What about you? - 11

Chapter 11

Mason had had a reasonably disruptive childhood. An only child, he’d grown up trying to protect his mother who’d always been the delicate flower that she was now, his father in contrast was hard, an angry man, crushing any vitality she had on a continual basis, regardless of whether Mason was there or not. In his adult years looking back, he always wondered how the hell they ever came to be married. He’d still only been young when they split, just a week after his twelfth birthday. The breakup, he later realised, was because his father had impregnated his secretary, and his mother in response had a nervous breakdown.

With her institutionalised for the next few years, he’d been forced to spend time with his father, and so became the object of this same anger. Mandy, the second wife was no doormat like his mother, and the anger that his father felt at the lack of control he had over his new and errant wife became ammunition for his treatment of Mason. He’d got older like all boys, and started to stand up to him, and then his mother was out of hospital, getting married and wanted him back.

Mason knew it was a bleak part of his life. Hitting seventeen he firstly started an affair with Mandy his thirty four year old step mother, which lasted six months, only to be discovered by his father. When it ended, it left him VERY sexually experienced, and instead of being mortified at his behaviour and the way it crushed his father, the pleasure such revenge brought meant he only looked for more controversy.

It was then he’d become a real player, sleeping with more girls than was wise, after being completely shunned by his father. His mother took him in on his breaks from university. But that came to an equally rapid end when his step father Derek found him to quote the older man in flagrante with his sixteen year old daughter and he was banished by those too.

Alone again, Mason had taken an apprenticeship with a petroleum company straight from University. The animosity towards both himself and his parents had only fuelled his desire to succeed, and he became a success, working and playing hard until he took on an executive position whilst still in his mid twenties.

He’d rarely been home since that fateful day when his mother had looked at him with sadness and disappointment in her eyes. But the death of his step father earlier that year and meant that he’d seen his mother the previous month when he’d come home for the wedding. It was only the fourth time he’d seen her in more than twelve years and he knew that it was his doing, his behaviour that had devastated her over the years.

If he’d been home, or at least in more regular contact with him mother in those intervening years  then he’d have instantly realised that the man who Kate was guiltily devoted to was his own second cousin Peter. He vaguely remembered hearing about the dreadful accident, but had never shown enough interest to appreciate the extent of his injuries, and the implication it had had on all of his family. It had happened maybe six years ago, and wasn’t discussed any more. Also Peter was almost ten years younger than him, he’d been a small child when Mason had been pushed out of family life, he didn’t even know the other man.

Back at the apartment that night he could barely sleep. All he could visualise was her, Kate, clothes and hair still crumpled from bed, face fresh looking up at him, then when he’d kissed her, her hands and lips reciprocating his own investigations.  Mason realised he’d spent the last few weeks groaning, sighing and ruing his wrong decisions over Kate, and now he knew that he may never see her so desperate for him again. Hell he may never see him smile again. It was going to be a long night, and he had no chance of sleeping.

It was Saturday morning, and finally Kate felt back on form. Physically she was fit, she was well rested, but emotionally, that was a different story. Her time with Mason had fragmented her. For the first time in ages she didn’t know what to do. He was right. She was lying to herself. But she’d always known that. She was never going to have anything back from Peter, he was purely an emotional responsibility. At some point she had to think of the future, not just hers, but his too. He was so dependent on her, if anything happened to his mother, she’d be all he had. Even more commitment and heartache.

Sighing, she dressed in jeans and a sweater, it was definitely her time to take Peter out, and having missed two evenings with him she wasn’t anticipating him being easy to manage. She was right.

Two hours later she was sat on the floor outside his bathroom. He was barricaded inside. This was typical for him, his bolthole. Originally the staff at the unit panicked trying to break the door down, worried about him injuring himself, but these days they were more relaxed.

                “Come on Peter. I told you I was sorry. But I was very ill. I couldn’t get out of bed. But this is the first day I’m well and I thought we could go to the cinema, come on. There’s a 3D showing of Toy Story at the Capital Cinema. Your favourite!”

His only response was a grunt, so she started to talk about Weedy the Sheriff. He was a huge Woody fan, even before his accident, and she knew firing his anger was a sure way of getting him to unlock the door.

Before she could count to ten the door swung open and he burst out scowling. “It’s Woody Kate! NOT Weedy! Come on!”

She rose to her feet then smiled at the troubled boy in a man’s body, “sorry Pete, forgive me?”

He bit his lip nervously then fell into her arms sobbing, “I missed you, I hate it when you don’t come, you’re the only one who knows me, we have fun don’t we? We have fun?”

He’d lifted his head and stared at her eyes, every inch of him waiting for her reassurance. She smiled and wiped the tears from his eyes, “of course we do. We’re best mates, aren’t we! And we’ve got an hour to get to the cinema...that’s if you want to see Toy Story!”

Giggling he rushed to find his shoes.

The film was a success, though he knew it word for word, and they followed it up by a surprisingly uneventful trip to KFC. Fed, watered and both shattered, they made their way back to the home holding hands and giggling. As soon as he was safe, Saturday evening in Brentfort usually involved swimming in their basement pool, and a late supper watching DVD’s, so he never minded going back on that day, Kate stepped out on to the winter street and gave a huge sigh of relief.

Walking without a real care, she found she was meandering in the opposite direction to her home, and it wasn’t until she saw the entrance to the apartment block she’d left the previous afternoon that she realised where her subconscious was taking her. Mason. He said he was leaving, she didn’t know how soon, but she knew more than anything she wanted to see him, tell him she’d been wrong. Ignoring the lift she ran the four flights of stairs, glad of the distraction of her shortness of breath and lack of fitness from the target who may or may not be at the end of her climb.

Puffing and panting she knocked the door. Then waited. And waited. After an almost hopeless second knock with no answer, she was just about to turn and call the lift when the door in front of her opened revealing the object of her affection. Mason, sleep ravaged, eyes half closed, only those damned cotton shorts covering that memory creating body.

                “Kate?” he was rubbing one eye and staring in surprise.

                “I didn’t know if you’d still be here.” She offered suddenly nervous, biting at her lip. She heard Mason groan, a tortured sound, and suddenly felt more optimistic.

                “I was supposed to head back last night, but I had a family emergency. So I’m still here.”

                “I’m glad!” She burst out before realising what she’d said. “That you’re here I mean, not the emergency!” He chuckled a deep warm laugh and it made Kate’s knees weak.

                “I had to come and see you, you see I realised you were right, well partly. And I wanted to tell you.” Suddenly she was tripping over her words and she could only rely on showing him how she felt.

Before he could ask her what he’d been right about, she lunged forward her arms draping around his neck and she’d crushed her lips rather inelegantly over his. Instinctively Mason slid an arm around her waist, pulling her against him, with the other hand he slammed the door. Before Kate had time to register what was happening, she was pressed up against the now locked front door, his hard and rather excited body was heavy against the whole length of her. She hadn’t intended to throw herself at him like this, but as soon as she’d set eyes on him, that pent up desire seemed to come from nowhere, and she no longer had any control.  

Mason could barely believe that she was here, with him, wanting him and this. She’d come to him, found him and almost admitted that she wanted him as much as her.  It was more than he’d ever dreamed of.

                “Oh Kate,” he whispered as his mouth finally left her passion bruised lips and tracked along her jaw to the sensitive soft flesh at the base of her neck. And if she could have tilted her head anymore, offered him any more she would have, but she was wedged up against the door and could barely move. But her hands could, her hands were all over him, his broad shoulders, toned back, snug buttocks. It was when her hands drifted under the waist band of his shorts, and came around to the front that he pulled back, lifted his head and looked down at her.

                “Not here.” He breathed, “not like this. Never like this!”

Lifting her she wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed his neck with a hunger she’d long forgotten as he carried her through to the bedroom.

Setting her down he proceeded to slowly remove every scrap of her clothing, his mouth covering every inch of the flesh he revealed equally as slowly, equally as erotically. Kate was full of pent up emotions, she needed more, faster, harder, quicker, there was definitely an urge she needed to fulfil and this slow deliberate tease was too much for her.

Tugging him back to his feet, separating his talented ever pleasing mouth for her sensitive stomach, she pushed him back towards the bed. His calves hit the mattress and he toppled backwards, landing flat on his back. With a grin he watched her climb like a tigress onto the bed and over him. He’d loved his slow leisurely pace, but as she pulled off his shorts, threw her underwear across the room, and sat astride him completely naked, he knew he loved her fast pace too.             

Mason loved her body, it was made for his hand, his mouth, and it seemed that his body responded equally well to her touch. Gasping at the way she moved over him, he buried the niggling reminder that he had to be honest with this woman, and rolling on top of her went with the moment.