Page 20 of The Spare (The King Dynasty #2)

"Stop teasing me." I reach forward, trying to snatch the drink out of his hand again but he's faster, moving it out the way and I fall clumsily against his chest. That spark in his eyes gets deeper, more playful.

"Can you at least not drink in front of me then?

" I push off him, folding my arms and scrunching my face up showing him how displeased I am.

Though I don't think he cares, the selfish fuck.

He gives me a sly smile, his eyes dragging down my face. "I'm a thirty-year old man, Mel. Who just made three million dollars in one day. I'm having a drink to celebrate. I can't help it's not tomorrow yet."

"Come on!" I pout. "You can't even not drink for one night? Even for me?"

"Ohhhh no," he half laughs, shaking his head firmly.

"Nope, even for you, butterfly. I've already had to give up something really important to me.

" His eyes smolder as they look down at me, and I find myself holding my breath at the intensity.

"And if I had to give up alcohol too, I think I might kill someone. "

His tongue strokes his bottom lip in a seductive movement that has my pussy clenching greedily, wanting his tongue there.

"Oh, please!" I scoff, hitting him lightly on his arm. "The Mason King giving up something? Surely not you. You're the most selfish man I know!"

And he is.

Him blatantly telling me to disregard class because he wanted my attention proves it.

"You wound me, baby," he says, putting a hand to his chest and slumping over to the side. He rights himself quickly, laughing as I giggle at his antics. Anything to not read too much into him calling me “baby” the way he just did, making my heart fall into my stomach.

I get up. "Well, you enjoy your drink. I'm going for a dance."

I need to dance off this frustration so I hurry to the entryway to the VIP section, but I don't even make it through the curtains before he snatches me up by my hand.

Feminine pleasure fills me as I clock the slightly pissed off look on his face, because I successfully made him put down his drink in favor of the dance floor.

Smiling brightly, I tug him along behind me as I work my way deep to the center of the carefree crowd. The energy here is infectious, the club goers lost in their race for a dopamine hit. Some people dance in groups; there's several couples grinding against each other.

I let go of Mason's hand and toss my head back, moving my body to the beat and raising my arms in the air, swaying and rolling my hips to the music as it takes me over.

I open my eyes and look up curiously at the feel of his hands encasing my hips in a tight grip as he comes close behind me, moving his body with mine.

This isn't the first time we've danced. Mason and I are often partners when we go to a charity gala; however, this is our first time dancing like this, and I become even hungrier for him.

I give him a small smile, turn my face back and close my eyes once more, losing myself to the music like everyone else.

But I also lose myself in him, shamelessly soaking up the feel of him against me. Hard and warm as the music transports me into another realm.

A hand leaves my hips to press into my stomach, and he pulls me firmly against him in a rather rough movement that has me gasping and crashing back to earth with him.

I raise my arms and sink my fingers into his hair as he presses his lips to my shoulder, and I grind my ass into his pelvic to the beat of the music .

He chuckles sexily in my ear, and his minty, whiskey breath washes over my skin as we sway.

Our hands smooth over each other, and he holds me tighter and tighter until I'm suddenly spiraling again, wondering at what this is between us.

"Butterfly," he whispers in my ear, but before he can say anything else, I feel another body press up against my front and I open my eyes in shock, looking into the eyes of a brown-haired man in his mid twenties.

He'd been dancing nearby, mingling with anyone and everyone, seemingly having the best night of his life.

But unfortunately, he's too uninhibited.

He leans forward, his eyes hooded, getting ready to kiss me. My jaw goes slack, but then there's a hard jerk as Mason moves fast.

His hand leaves my belly to wrap around the man's neck in a rough slap and squeezes in a grip so hard the man's eyes bug out of his head, and he's obviously so stunned he can't react. The man jerks, his body brushing against mine as he attempts to move.

I shrink against Mason's front, crying out in shock, but I'm trapped between the two men as Mason just calmly squeezes.

And squeezes.

My chin quivers as I stare into the eyes of the stranger who's eyes begin to flicker, looking like he's slowly going unconscious.

"Mason! Mason let go of him!" I raise my hands and wrap them around his forearm, tugging. The muscles are tight with strain, and when I tilt my head up to look at him, Mason's face is pulled tight in a hateful expression, and his eyes looks a little lost.

I press my lips to his neck. "Mason, calm down. He didn't hurt me. Let him go," I say, feeling my knees buckle.

Mason's chest heaves against my back, but his forearm loosens, and he makes a grunting noise as he lets the man go abruptly and then puts his hand back on my stomach, pulling me somehow even closer.

The man collapses to the ground in front of me coughing a sickening, hacking noise that has me taking another step into Mason.

Dante steps quickly in front of me and grabs him up, marching him away from us and off the dance floor.

I turn in Mason's arms, my eyes wide. I'm ready to set him out, but the look on his face draws me up short.

He's standing still. The people dance around us, not even noticing we're in our own world as he stares at me with an ashamed, slightly guilty look on his face, but he's quiet, just waiting for me and my reaction to what he just did.

No doubt wondering if I'm going to reject and belittle him like everyone else always seems to.

The crowd next to us doesn't miss a beat, and so, neither will we.

From experience I know that Dante will handle the guy, and he'll probably walk away with a bunch of money after signing an NDA, so he's not my worry.

Mason is.

I bring a hand up and touch his cheek gently before going higher and running my hands through his hair in a slow, soft movement. One I've only ever dreamed about doing. His eyes close, and he takes a slow, deep breath. Though we're in public, it's so intimate that it floors me.

"I'm okay, Masey," I reassure him, stepping into him again and beginning to roll my hips slightly, urging him to dance with me. His eyes open, regarding me with a sad look.

"I'm sorry, Mel," he says in a soft strained voice. So low that I almost didn't hear him. My eyes prick. He looks so tortured, so tense, that I rise to my tiptoes and press my lips to his jaw. Letting myself have this.

He softens immediately, bringing his arms around me and pulling me in close, and I eat that up, too .

"He didn't hurt me Mason, because of you," I whisper against his ear as he relents and begins to move with me. We start off hesitant at first, but soon, he lets the incident go and puts a hand to my hip as we move together properly now, and it's so sexy.

Natural.

I wish like hell our clothes were off, but after a couple of hours he just takes me back to my dorm and leaves.

Leaves me by myself once again.