Page 75 of Enemies with Benefits (Finding the Right Brother #1)

Three Years Later

"I swear to God, if you don't fucking quit," I snarled at Mason as he tested my patience for the millionth time that week.

"Wow, it's impressive how pissed you get over the stupidest things," he remarked, absolutely not helping and not giving me what I wanted.

"I will end you, I swear to God, Mason."

"Ooh, such a big threat from a man who isn't going to follow through on it."

"Don't test me."

"Mmm, but I think I will."

"That's it," I growled, launching myself over the table and bringing him to the ground with a slam that jarred him.

The laughter on his face didn't die, but there was a new spark in his eyes as he prevented me from getting hold of him, arching up.

The flexible dickhead wrapped his legs around me and rolled us to the side.

He was no less gentle than me, slamming me to the ground, into the side of the couch, and sending a pain through my elbow.

Not that it stopped me from shoving his legs down so they couldn't keep their grip, reaching to grab his arms, and use them to try to swing him onto his back.

He went, and hard at that, but his grin returned as his hands shoved at his shorts. Our lazy day in lazy clothes had just become more active, and now his dick was out, slapping against his stomach because lazy clothes meant no underwear in the world of Mason Beckett.

Not that I was going to complain. I followed him down, wrapping my hand around his shaft and feeling a thrill when he arched into my touch with a groan.

My frustration with him quickly found a new outlet as I watched him.

Bending forward, I released him long enough to shove my pants down, using my elbow to stay upright as I kissed him.

He was, of course, already riled up from constantly pissing me off, so he nipped at my bottom lip with a low groan that was just shy of a growl, knowing if I wasn't hard already, I was going to be quickly.

It didn't matter what roof we were staying under. If we could help it, there was going to be lube nearby because...well. I snatched the bottle off the table, and when I reached down to quickly and roughly prepare him, I stopped when I felt something in the way.

"Really?" I growled in annoyance as I gripped the flared base of the toy he had apparently put in when I hadn't been paying attention. "You asshole. You've been fucking with me all goddamn day because you?—"

"Knew," he said with a shit eating grin. "You're easy, sweetheart, what can I say?"

"Dickhead," I grunted, pulling the toy out, twisting it to make his muscles jump at the sudden sensation.

"No regrets," he managed to moan as I worked the toy in and out.

I should have known, even when I thought I could predict what he was going to do, I could never be completely sure.

Even if I’d known he was intentionally getting on my nerves to get me going, I wouldn't have predicted the toy, and I’d be forced to deal with the reality that he could push my buttons whenever he wanted.

Still, that meant a lot of fun for both of us, and he was leaking wildly as I took my time making sure the toy had him nice and stretched.

For science, of course.

I wasn't nice about pulling it out either, and he grunted, the sound showing his discomfort, but his mouth opened for a different reason when the head of my dick pushed inside him, swiftly followed by the rest. The devilish bastard had chosen a toy that was slightly thinner than my dick, so we both got to experience him stretching wide to accommodate me.

I practically bent him double as I got my knees in position on the carpet, using it for leverage to rut down into him, feeding on every groan and yelp of pleasure.

Sure, sometimes we had peaceful sex. The kind of sex that was almost lazy in how sensual and slow it was.

The first time he'd done it to me, taking his time riling me up but never letting the intensity crank up, I had been a little lost. I definitely enjoyed myself, but the whole thing felt so slow, so careful and gentle, and I had to spend a couple of hours afterward on my own.

The asshole had known what he was doing and what I needed, though, and he'd left me in peace. When I’d crawled into bed later that night, he let me wrap him up and bury my face in his neck until I fell asleep, feeling close to tears until I finally drifted off and had the best sleep of my life.

Mostly, though, it was like now, quick and hard, our emotions, passions, and needs coming out in a rush as I took what I wanted and he got what he needed.

It was just the way things were for us, and it worked.

If other people thought it was weird or unhealthy, well, that was their fucking business.

Mason was my man, and I was his, and what we did to make each other and ourselves happy was what worked.

Burying my face in his neck as I came deep inside him, I felt that sense of freedom I'd never known with anyone else.

Even as my teeth nipped the sensitive flesh of his neck, he cried out with pleasure as he jerked himself off under me, coating both our stomachs.

He had never been shy about us being us, me being me, or him being him.

It drove me crazy on occasion still, but damn him to hell, he was right, there was a freedom to it.

I could finally trust that he wasn't going to tear me down or judge me just because I was an irritable, crabby bastard who had to do things a certain way, but he also wasn't afraid to call me on my shit when I went too far.

"Cheater," I muttered as I drew back, carefully pulling myself free as he lay on his back, chest heaving. I had to admit, most people looked good, well fucked, but damned if Mason didn't pull it off better than anyone else.

He grinned as he caught his breath. “Why, because I made sure I would actually be able to walk afterward?"

"Yes," I told him, flipping the toy toward him and snorting when he grunted as it made a wet slap against his chest.

"Ow," he groaned, rubbing the spot where it hit. "Play nice. That thing is almost as big as you, hitting me with it counts as assault with a deadly weapon."

"Give me a few hours and I'll assault you again with the real deadly weapon."

"I once thought that getting you a sense of humor would be a good thing. I was wrong."

"Payback's a bitch."

I got up to get the whinger a warm rag since he was the messiest. I even let him lie in my lap while I wiped him down, letting him grow lazy and almost sleepy where he lay.

Watching him, I couldn't help but smile and let him stay there even after ten minutes had passed.

Not even his family got to see him that calm and relaxed.

It wasn't even the sex that had done it, though that was part of it, both of us were pretty keen on expressing things through sex, it was just.. .being here, with me.

And what a strange and wonderful thing that was, something I’d never considered a possibility.

To have someone to simply...be with, who found my presence comforting and peaceful.

I had always been fine with the idea of being a protector, but Mason never needed protecting from me.

..hell, most people needed protecting from him.

But he...was at peace with me, even I could see that.

For about twenty minutes, I watched the light filtering through the window drifting over his face as he lay there, calm, eyes closed, while he drifted in his head.

We didn't live at the hotel, that was too weird for me, and he was too fond of the idea of separation from his family.

But we stayed there a lot, sometimes separately, like when he went up to Portland to deal with his club and I wanted to be close to the family, or when I wasn't keen on being surrounded by Becketts and hotel guests.

But together often, there, or at our place in Cresson Point.

It was ours, all of it.

He stirred when there was a sharp rapping at the door, and he cleared his throat. "What?"

"Mom said you guys need to stop ignoring your phones. You're supposed to be joining us for dinner," Micah said. "Can I come in? I hate talking through a door."

"How much of your uncle and dad are you willing to witness?" Mason called out, and both Micah and I groaned.

"You're an ass," I muttered, pushing him off my lap.

"You're so gross," Micah grumbled through the door.

"I can't tell if it's the fact that you guys have spent a lot of time together or if I'm just now noticing the genetic similarities, but it's so creepy how similar you can be," Mason complained as he got to his feet and stretched.

I took a moment to look him over, eyes drifting down the expanse of his back and lingering on his ass.

I was satiated but not immune, and in the face of feeling my dick stir to life again, I got to my feet and pushed him toward the bedroom as I gathered up the clothes and lube.

"Come on in, Micah," I called. "We're going to shower and change."

"God," Micah complained as he let himself in. "That's going to take forever. I thought teenagers were the horny ones."

"Don't let your mom hear you talk like that," I warned from the partially closed door to the bedroom as the shower came on. "And you're not a teenager yet."

"I will be. Next year."

"Yes, and if you keep talking like that, I'll make sure the next sex talk you get is from Mason."

"Dad, no!"

I smiled, both at his outrage and calling me dad.

I probably wouldn’t have had the chance if I'd been given a choice, kids hadn't seemed like a good idea for me.

Life didn't like plans, though, and I had ended up a dad anyway.

Well, I suppose I could have chosen not to be.

I was given that choice by Moira, after all.

Looking back, there had been no choice as far as I was concerned; I had felt obligated at the time.

But now I felt blessed, and surprise, surprise, I wasn't half bad at it.