Free Wasted by Suzannah Daniels Page A

and realized that every beer I drank was one less for
her.”
    Having no idea how to respond, I stood and
looked at him dumbfounded.
    He put his glass of water on the end table
and patted the seat beside him. “Can I talk to you for a
minute?”
    “ Okay.” I sank into the
cushion, my mind diving into a thousand different
scenarios.
    “ About last
night.”
    I scooted sideways on the sofa, so I could
watch him as he spoke.
    “ I was wasted.”
    “ I know.”
    “ I said more than I should
have.”
    I reached over and laid my hand on top of
his. He smelled clean, and as always, his skin was warm to the
touch. “Mason, when I told you that I would listen to your story, I
meant it.”
    “ It’s not a nice story,
Lex. There are no happy endings.”
    “ Your story’s not over yet.
You can make it end any way you want.”
    He glanced at our hands, and he rhythmically
rubbed his fingertips across my knuckles. “I want to believe
that.”
    “ Then believe
it.”
    An amused grunt escaped his lips. “Life’s
not quite that simple. Not mine, anyway.”
    “ So tell me about
it.”
    He reached up and trailed his fingertips
along my cheek, his touch sending my heart into a frantic pace. His
fingers traced along my jaw until they spanned my neck, cupping my
nape and pulling me toward him.
    He tilted his head, his lips hovering near
mine. I could smell his fresh breath, see his amber eyes studying
me. I wanted him to do it. I wanted him to kiss me. The thought
both terrified me and thrilled me at the same time. He moved
closer, and my breath froze in my lungs.
    His touch was innocent enough, but it burned
through me, releasing tingles of excitement. I remained motionless
for what seemed like an eternity until his lips finally made
contact. They were soft and tender, teasing me with a gentleness
that left me wanting something more.
    As I closed my eyes and leaned into him, he
deepened the kiss, his mouth tasting of mint as his tongue sought
mine. Grasping his face in my hands, his whiskers rough against my
palms, I clung to him as he consumed me. He was sweet and sexy and
raw, and the hunger that ripped through my body shocked me.
    I knew I should push him away. I should let
this moment end in one beautiful kiss. But I didn’t pull back. I
didn’t stop him. And I wasn’t sure why.
    Something about Mason Cambridge excited me,
made me want to ignore the plethora of cautions that popped up in
my brain. Maybe it was his easy smile, his light-hearted demeanor.
Maybe it was his magnetism, some unexplained draw that propelled me
towards him. Whatever it was, I could feel it increasing its hold
on me. I knew enough now to know that there was more to him than I
originally thought, and I wanted to know his story.
    He pulled away, leaving me gasping for
breath. His lips teased my neck, skimming their way to the hollow
just above my collarbone. He made a gentle sucking motion, his
tongue warm against my skin. Pulling back, he gently kissed my lips
again.
    “ You don’t know how much I
want to tell you my story.” Releasing me, he exhaled. “But I
won’t.”
    “ Why?”
    “ The only thing worse than
a drowning man is a drowning man who pulls someone else under with
him.”
    “ I can swim.”
    A half-cocked smile reached his lips. “Not
with a rock tied to your ankle.”
    He stood and scooped up his glass of water.
“I think I’ll go back to bed in hopes that I’ll wake up later minus
the hangover.”
    I stood up, too, and motioned toward the
kitchen. “You want me to fix you some toast or get you some
crackers?”
    “ No, but do you have plans
tonight?”
    “ No. I have a meeting this
afternoon, but nothing tonight.”
    “ Good. Let me make you
dinner. You know, a roommate appreciation dinner for putting up
with my drunk ass last night.”
    “ Don’t worry about last
night.”
    “ I insist.”
    I shrugged my shoulders. “Okay.”
    “ My cooking skills are
limited, so do you mind having breakfast for dinner?”
    A