“Doing what?”

“This,” she says and gestures between the two of us.

“We’re just having dinner.”

Her eyes narrow and I ignore the accusatory stare, picking up my bourbon and taking an easy drink of it. It burns just right on the way down, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

“I just want to feed you,” I say in a tone that I hope comes out somewhat innocent.

“And fuck me,” she whispers so softly but with a roughness I haven’t heard from that sexy voice of hers. I stare into her gorgeous gaze, daring her to blush, to be embarrassed by it, but she only stares back with desire in her baby blue eyes.

“Yes, and fuck you,” I say. It doesn’t go unnoticed that she clenches her thighs. “You want that, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure I should be sleeping with you,” she says simply but with a firm resolve in her voice. My heart beats in a way that makes it feel tight. Like there’s not quite enough room for it to beat again.

“Are you seeing someone else?” I ask her. My knuckles brush against the white tablecloth as my hands start to fist. I stop them and try to keep my body from showing what I’m really feeling. She better not be fucking anyone else.

She loses the conviction in her voice when she answers, “No.”

“Then why shouldn’t we?” I say, glancing at the waiter as he makes his way toward us.

“Because—” Jules stops as soon as she notices him. She plasters on a fake smile that doesn’t reach her eyes and waits patiently for him to address her.

“Are you ready for me to take your order?” he asks me but I gesture to Jules, taking another sip to settle my irritation.

“For you, miss?”

“May I have the herb-grilled salmon, please?” She passes the menu to him and rests her hands in her lap, giving him her full attention. Meanwhile, I can’t take my eyes off her and wondering why the hell she thinks she shouldn’t be seeing me.

“Are the grilled vegetables all right with that?” he asks her.

“Yes, they’re perfect.”

The waiter scribbles on the notepad in his hand then turns toward me.

“Sirloin, medium rare. Vegetables are fine.” I preemptively answer his unasked question, still staring at Jules. The waiter takes the hint, nodding once and immediately leaving us.

“You were saying?” I say, picking up my bourbon.

“I—” Again she hesitates, sensing the change in my temperament. “I don’t know if I should really be seeing anyone.”

I wait for more, taking another sip.

“I’m not sure how to,” she says, waving her hand in the air, at a loss for words. “I’m still—” She can’t put a sentence together.

“I want to fuck you, Jules. Give me one good reason why there’s a problem with that.” I hold her gaze listing all the reasons in my head, but ignoring every last one of them. She needs someone to fuck, to hold her, someone to make her smile. I can do that; I can be that person.

“It’s just sex?” she asks and from the look in her eyes, I don’t know what answer she wants in return.

Fuck, I wish it were. I can’t explain why I want her this badly. It’s more than the physical attraction, but I’ll never admit the truth to her.

“Just sex,” I lie. “If that’s what you want.”

She licks her lush lips, peering down at her silverware and then up to me. “I’d be using you,” she says as if she’s confessing a sin.

A bark of a laugh leaves me and my tense muscles relax.

“Use me, Jules.” I stare into her blue eyes flecked with silver, feeling the tension between us morph into something sweeter, something darker and depraved. “I want you to.”

Julia

It starts with a kiss.

Then dinners and dates.

It starts with a smile.

Your evenings run late.

It tempts and teases.

And makes you want more.

But it’s not how it starts,

When it can only end in war.

There’s something about him tonight. Something darker that I didn’t see before. It’s the way he looks at me like I should be running from him. It both scares me and lures me in.

Lifting the glass to my lips, my one and only glass, I finish off the sweet wine.

“Did you write today?” Mason asks. We’ve made a bit of small talk and light conversation. I’m still feeling him out. I thought I wanted this thing between us but the air changed a bit ago, and the tension is something else now. Like we’re at war, although I don’t know why.

“I did, yes.” Every bit of it was about Jace, though. Something I’d rather not bring up with Mason. I pick up my glass again, finding it empty and cursing internally.

I head off whatever other questions he has for me by saying, “Why dinner tonight and not just drinks after?” My voice is low, nearly accusatory, but unlike what happened earlier, he doesn’t seem to mind.

It takes a moment for him to respond, but he does. “Because I had to eat and so did you.”

He takes another bite of his steak and then asks, “Would you rather we were just having drinks tonight?”

“Yes.” My answer is immediate. He doesn’t seem taken aback. He’s calm, unmoving and unbothered.

“Why’s that?”

I can’t look him in the eyes as my fingers nervously move up and down the silverware. I don’t know how to put it out there. “How did you know my name?” I ask him.

“From the papers,” Mason says and then quickly takes a sip of his drink.

I nod my head. That’s how everyone knows me. “The papers?” I say, hoping he’ll elaborate.

“I’ve read a few things.”

“Then you may have me at a disadvantage. The papers know far too much about me,” I joke, seemingly innocent, but I’m sure he’s aware that I’m prodding.

“That’s possible, probable even.” He smirks at me, his brilliant smile adding to his charm. I try not to let it affect me, but I’m at his mercy whenever he looks at me like that. I consider the facts and list out all the reasons I have to end this. Maybe the conversation with Kat got to me more than I thought.

I’m vulnerable. Check.

I’ve never done this before. Check.

I don’t know that I’m okay with this. Check.

And a man like Mason could crush me. Check a thousand times.

“Well, all I know about you is that you’re a bit of player,” I say and dare to hold his gaze.

“I used to be, yes.”

“Used to?” There’s a tension between us. It’s hot to the touch and it makes me want to move closer to him, but I know that I need to keep my distance right now.

“Yes, used to. I mean it. I used to be … more unattached, then I met someone.”

“Oh.” I’m surprised by his confession and also by the immediate reaction I have to him meeting someone who made him want to settle down. Maybe all the thoughts and emotions are playing on my face, because Mason continues.

“She’s not in the picture anymore and it wasn’t anything serious at all.” He answers my questions before I have to ask them and I’m grateful for that. “It just changed things for me.”