Leave, Before You Love Me

Chapter Thirty-One

Mason leads me out of the bar and then hesitates to take his spot beside me as we walk, hand in hand, we leave our friends behind.

The rain lightly showers over us as we step outside onto the sidewalk, and Mason quickly pulls off his suit jacket, bringing me under it. It doesn't cover all of us, but it certainly helps to shelter us both from the uncooperative weather.

Mase holds me close as we accelerate our pace, but within seconds the skies open up, and the rain comes down harder, drenching his sport coat and the two of us underneath it.

Mason slows his stride until we stop, and the look he produces as he looks down at me causes me to laugh out loud. A slow grin spreads across his full lips as he palms my cheek with his warm hand, wiping away the drops of rain that fall upon my face with his thumb.

"Come here," He tells me, pulling me under a canopy a few feet away. The heavy rain causes his curls to fall loosely over his forehead and into his eyes, and I watch as he shakes his head, spraying water droplets everywhere. The sight reminds me of a dog shaking its coat after a bath, making me giggle.

"You think this is funny?" He growls, pulling me in by my waist.

Shrugging at his question, I nod at him defiantly. "You look like a wet dog!" I tell him, pulling at one of his curls. He nuzzles into my hand, kissing my palm lightly, and I look up at him through my lashes.

Mason's eyes graze over my face and focus solely on my lips. "Ros," he moans, and his hand slips behind my neck, pulling me into him. His mouth is soft upon mine, but it's as if this is our first time kissing. I don't know if it's from the drinks I have consumed or how Mase has been, but I am suddenly lightheaded, and his grip around my waist tightens.

I am wasted, lost in his touch, his need for me, his desire for me. I can't breathe.

"Excuse us, please" The words sound muffled, but they cause him to break our connection... and we pull away from our heated embrace.

Looking behind me, I gasp for air, and he apologizes to the older couple trying to enter the store we are blocking. I groan as he slips his hand away from my waist and he pulls me out from under the awning.

"Let's go, baby," He insists, and I hear the urgency in his voice.

The rain isn't letting up, and Mason holds my hand as we walk quickly down a few more blocks before getting to our destination. The downpour has completely drenched us; my hair sticks to my face, my dress molds to every inch of my body that it covers, and if my heels weren't hard for me to remain upright before, it's damn near impossible now. The water has made the soles like a soapy sponge, and my heels squish into the soggy leather with each step I take.

Mason leads us into the lobby of the Motif Hotel, and
one look at each other has us both amused and giggling at our drenched appearance; luckily, upon seeing us sopping wet, the concierge greets us and offers us warm towels and bathrobes to be sent to our room.

Thanking him, Mason is quick to whisk me off toward the elevators. "You must be freezing, Roslyn." He says, concern apparent in his voice. Mason punches our floor number and turns to me, sliding his hands up and down my arms to warm me. My body gives me away as I tremble from the chill I feel.

"I'm okay," I reassure him, my teeth chattering, "What are we doing here?" I ask him, wrapping my arms around myself.

Mason steps in front of me, shielding me from the draft coming out of the vent. "I thought it would be nice for us to have a night alone, away from everyone," He says, kissing my forehead, "Just the two of us." He murmurs.