Hissing, Mason grasped her face. “Fuck, baby, I can’t last. Please.”
She raised her head and bit into his inner thigh, raising a squawk from him. “No begging, Dorsey.”
Running her tongue up the rigid flesh of his erection, she dipped her head and swallowed his spongy tip.
“No, Eva. I can’t stop!”
She dug her nails into his outer thighs, leaving crescent moons on his skin. “Then you want me to sink down over your cock?”
“Yesss.”
Hastily, she located one of the condoms she’d picked up a few days before and rolled it over him.
“Want me to slide down on you like this?” She hovered over him, holding his gaze as she slowly dropped down on him. His girth stretched her perfectly. Her pussy hugged him, her walls soaking and smoothing his way.
Her breath hitched and stopped. When he was fully rooted within her, she met his gaze. “Mason…”
A smile twisted his lips. “Yeah, baby?”
“I need you more than you know.”
His eyelids flickered. “I was hoping you’d say that, darlin’.”
With joy in her heart, she began to move. Rising and falling on his veined shaft, his head nudging her G-spot again and again. Heat lashed her insides. She ran her hands over the swells of his pecs, swirling her pinkies over his nipples. He groaned and lifted her, letting her drop over his cock.
She held his gaze and he never looked away. Desire built between their gazes and their bodies, reaching a fever pitch.
“You’re going to make me come,” she whimpered. Harder, faster, they matched their rhythms, perfectly attuned to each other’s desires and needs.
He slammed into her once, twice…
With a muffled cry, she splintered. Waves of ecstasy struck her, towing her under. Dark tendrils of passion mingled with absolute joy and love. For a shimmering moment, the words were on her lips. Then Mason surged upward and claimed her mouth, swallowing anything she might have said.
She fed him her tongue as though it were love words, hoping he understood. He stiffened and rumbled his pleasure, spurting his hot seed. The warmth of it in her body thrilled her and her belly flipped.
Together they continued to move until their releases flowed away. He gripped her waist and turned her onto the mattress. Their bodies still joined, he held her tight to his chest. Her cheek was pillowed on his chest and his heart beat erratically beneath her ear.
She felt his hands moving in her hair. Shivers passed down her spine. Outside, a true Christmas storm brewed but in here, she was safe within his hold. Her son was in the other room, safe and sleeping soundly, waiting for Santa. Though he wouldn’t get the dinosaur he wanted, he’d have a good Christmas. And next year would be better. It had to be.
A little voice in the back of her mind asked how that could possibly happen if she’d still be dumping half her pay into the Dorsey account, but she whisked the reminder away. At this moment, nothing was going to pop her fragile bubble of happiness. Not finances, a toy dinosaur, or even Bill.
Mason pressed a trail of kisses over her shoulder and up her throat, ending at the soft spot behind her ear. He smoothed his tongue over it and she broke out in gooseflesh.
“Merry Christmas, Eva.”
She smiled against his skin. “To you too.”
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
Her heart tripped, flipped and sped out of control. Did she want to hear it?
He went on, his voice a low rumbled against her ear. “Eva… I need you more than you know too.”
A cry burst from her and she turned her mouth into his, meeting his impassioned kisses stroke for stroke. Her world tilted on its axis and began a new rotation—a rotation that travelled around Mason, who was now her sun.
“Fuck! What do you mean the settlement will be a hundred grand?” Mason yelled into the phone. He paced before his desk, boots stomping but doing nothing to alleviate his frustration and growing fury.
His lawyer was on the phone, giving him the rundown about Jack Caffrey. The man was going to have a long road of recovery ahead of him, and while the health insurance would cover his medical bills, he still needed something to live on. Disability wouldn’t cut it, and it was only right to provide a settlement. But to the tune of three hundred thousand dollars? Dorsey Forestry couldn’t support that kind of number. Not without bankruptcy.
Or a buyer.
His chest burned. A week ago, he’d practically admitted his love to Eva. Since Christmas Eve, he’d stayed with her every night. He couldn’t drag himself away from her. Fuck, he wanted to marry her. But now he didn’t even know if he could support her and Brady. If the company went under…
He listened for long minutes while his lawyer explained everything in detail. As he talked, Mason formulated various plans, imagined himself going through with them, and then discarded them one by one.
When it came down to it, he’d always have a job in this area because he could wield a chainsaw. Taking down trees wasn’t his passion—he preferred the business end—but it was good, honest work.
And I can support a family on it.
Breathing a little easier, he steeled himself to say the words he’d planned to say for a long time.
“Drayer, we’re going to start the ball moving on selling out Dorsey Forestry.”
As soon as the words were out, a hollow chasm spread through his stomach as if it were a rampant disease. Would his dad take the high road in a time of trouble? The man had made it through highs and lows in the industry. When Mason was a kid, they’d had spells of bounty and ones of lean. Never would Earl Dorsey bug out because he had to pay out a big chunk of money to a worker.
But Mason’s business sense told him it was best. Besides, he didn’t have the love for Dorsey Forestry that his dad did.
While Mason continued to talk to his lawyer about the particulars, he spun to look at Eva’s desk. Her empty chair gave him a sharp pang. What happened if the business sold and she was replaced by the owner’s employee? Chances were it would take place.
“Fuck. Drayer, I can’t talk about this anymore right now. I’ll do what you suggested and get to the bank to gather the statements from the last two years. All right. I’ll speak with you soon.”
Switching off the phone, that hole in his gut grew. Was he making the right choice? A voice in the back of his head told him he couldn’t afford to take a huge hit to his finances like the one Jack Caffrey’s settlement would require. Mason believed with his whole heart that the logger deserved it. He just wished to hell his insurance had paid it. Withdrawing chunks from the bank account would mean little working capital. They could get to the point where he wouldn’t have money to pay for the fuel bills to cut the logs down, haul them out or ship them. Selling now wouldn’t keep them from paying the settlement, but Mason wouldn’t deal with the aftermath.
He raked his hand through his hair, continuing to stare at Eva’s desk. Not a single picture of her son graced the top, which was the reason he hadn’t known about Brady. That fit with her personality—she was close-lipped to a fault.
But she had admitted that she needed Mason. Warmth spread through him. For her, that was akin to telling him she loved him.
To be fair, he hadn’t exactly said the three big words to her either. Now he didn’t know if he had a right to. Asking her to start out in more hardship than she probably already knew? Taking on the debt and mess of a business?
He glanced at the calendar, already knowing it was Saturday. His lawyer was always available to Mason on weekends, but thank goodness Eva wasn’t. He couldn’t have held that conversation in front of her. Luckily she was home with Brady, maybe enjoying a lazy Saturday morning together.
Undecided, he swung like a pendulum between thoughts. Going out to the bank and gathering those statements meant shoving off the wrecking ball. Staying here meant going down on a sinking ship.
He slammed his fist down on the desk top. His father’s picture danced on the surface. An omen? But what was it?
His dad wasn’t here to pick up the pieces and offer his level head to the situation. All Mason could do was move forward in the way he saw fit. And at this moment, he only saw a tunnel out.
Then maybe he could convince the love of his life to marry him.
Fishing in the front of his jeans for his truck keys, he went out of the office and into the wintry air. The white world glittered in the brilliant sun, but to him, it was black.
During his drive, his mind was consumed with thoughts of Eva. By selling the company, he might be cutting her job. But if he could get a good faller position at one of the neighboring companies, he could probably support them without trouble. They’d be rich by no means, but they’d have everything they needed. Hell, he already had the warm, solid house for her and Brady. Unloading the house she lived in seemed a better course than fixing it up. Besides, Mason could never give up the view of the wetlands.
Weeks ago I was thinking of heading back out West.
He passed by the diner. His old friend Whit’s truck was parked in front. As he didn’t have a warm woman to curl up with on the weekends, he spent his time at the diner, talking trees and soaking up what companionship he could, along with cup after cup of hot coffee.
Mason shook his head. He didn’t want that forever. He’d been a bachelor long enough. And he wanted a family.
Images of Brady’s happy face on Christmas Day flitted through Mason’s mind. He’d helped Eva spread the meager bounty of gifts beneath the tree. A bicycle sporting a bell and a red bow was wheeled in from the garage. At the time, his heart had broken, feeling there wasn’t enough for Brady. And there was nothing for Eva.
But when the child had awakened and set eyes on that bike, happiness had flooded Mason. Together, he and Eva had watched the little boy open his gifts and take his bike for a spin around the small living room. He hadn’t asked about the dinosaur he never received, but Mason read its lack of appearance in the lines etched around Eva’s mouth.
Still, they’d spent a wonderful day together. He’d shoveled a path in the snow for Brady to ride his bike and later they’d shared a venison roast and vegetables. Brady had proudly wielded his fork at his mother and said with a mouthful of meat, “Mom shot this deer.”
She’d blushed to the roots of her hair. The sight had driven Mason’s heart into his mouth. At that moment, he didn’t give a damn if she’d poached ten deer off his land. She was welcome to them. He just wished she’d trusted him enough not to have lied about it.
Maybe that will come in time.
Arriving at the bank, he stiffened his upper lip and went inside to ask for the statements. Eva took charge of the financial part of the business—paying bills and balancing accounts. He could dig up the records in the filing cabinet beside her desk but this was simply easier, and he’d have unmarked copies for his lawyer.
“Hi, Mason.” The bank teller smiled as he approached her window. He’d gone to high school with her, though she’d been a few years younger. Hell, he knew everyone in this town. Most likely they all knew the time at which he climbed out of Eva’s bed and made his way home the day after Christmas.
He told the teller what he needed and she set about printing the statements out. When the final one was spit out, still warm from the printer, she stopped and examined it.
“It’s not reflecting the latest transaction.” She looked between her screen and the paper.
“What’s that?”
“Eva was in here early this morning and withdrew two hundred dollars.”
Mason’s heart seized. His throat clamped shut and his bowels turned to water. Suddenly he felt as if he’d missed the top step of a flight of stairs. Falling, dizzy, tumbling feet over ass and crash-landing at the bottom in a tangle of despair.
He cleared his throat. “Eva?”
“Yes, she made a withdrawal. Let me just write it down here.” The teller inked the information at the bottom of the printout.
Mason’s eyes refused to focus. She was withdrawing funds from the Dorsey account? Money that wasn’t hers?
The memory of blood-spattered snow flashed behind his eyes. She’d lied once. What else could she be lying to him about?
Fighting for calm, he collected the stack of statements and went back out.
In the truck, he scanned withdrawal after withdrawal. From ATMs, online transactions and random remote branches of the bank. Small amounts, but she was still taking money that wasn’t hers. Many small deposits were tracked too. He wasn’t sure what those were, but he didn’t care right now.
Betrayal rose up in him, a black cloud of rage that blocked out all the light of his love for her. Why? He slammed the heel of his hand off his steering wheel violently. Then again drove his knuckles into the dash with a deafening crash. The papers fluttered across his lap.
Each tiny letter and number spelled one thing to Mason—Eva was a liar. And she didn’t return his love.
* * * * *
Eva jerked her head up at the sound of a truck in the driveway.
Mason!
She hurried to the door, happy that she’d returned from her errand this morning. She’d had no choice but to drive to the neighboring town and withdraw more of the money she’d put into the Dorsey account in order to pay her babysitter. It was that or have no childcare next week.