Truly Yours Read online

  “I downed a couple of sandwiches, but I skipped dessert. Get your ass on my face.”

  I burst out laughing. “Smooth.”

  He finally peels open his eyes. “Did you girls have fun tonight?”

  Nodding, I grin, thinking about our discussion. “Yeah, we did. Ate dinner, chatted, talked with our parents.”

  “Oh yeah? Did you tell your folks about me yet?” Mason smirks, knowing how strict and religious they are.

  “Totally. Confessed that I’m living with you in sin, and we’re now fucking regularly. They told me to give you an attaboy!” I playfully punch his shoulder, and he grins.

  “Well, we’ve already discussed wedding vows, so it’s best they’re caught up to speed here.” He sits up and pulls me onto his lap. Mason brushes his fingers along my cheek and tucks loose strands of hair behind my ear. “Then I can tell them all about how much I love their daughter and would do anything for her. How I’ll provide for her, care for her, and love her until my dying day. I gotta compete with Hunter now, so…” He smirks, but I know his words are true.

  I laugh, but my eyes fill with unshed tears at his admission. “You’re too sweet to me,” I tell him softly, leaning my forehead against his.

  Mason cups my cheeks and kisses my lips, soft and quick. “I mean it, sweetheart. Until my dying day.”

  Nodding, I choke back my emotions. “I know you do. It’s why I love you so damn much.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mason

  Sometimes I really hate my fucking job.

  I knew what I was getting into, but days like today are really hard. Crime scenes with children are my hard limit, but I know I don’t always have the choice. Suicide is another for me, but I use my experience to get through it, knowing the family will want answers. The why and the how usually, and even though it’s not something we can always give them, I strive to. They want closure.

  But today was an act that doesn’t hit close to home, rather it hits right in the gut. As I sit in an office and peruse the case files, I’m disgusted by how much politics and our government control the healthcare system. It’s one of the many reasons my father and I butt heads so much. Our views differ greatly, and nothing he says will ever convince me that money and power are worth more than a human life.

  An elderly man in his seventies shot his wife of forty-eight years and then called 911 to let them know he was going to shoot himself. He said she was sick, and they couldn’t afford her prescriptions or hospital bills. The gentleman also had his fair share of health concerns, and the financial burden was too heavy for him to carry. He was his wife’s caretaker, and somehow, he got it into his head that killing her and then himself was the best solution.

  Sadly, his story is only one of many.

  Without their medications, they would’ve eventually died, but probably while alone and sedated in a hospital bed. At least this way, he could make their own fate without suffering. I don’t get how our own system could fail so many people, and on some level, I understand this man’s thought process as painful as it is to admit.

  “The letters are the saddest shit I’ve ever read,” my colleague Jada says as we file. “And I’ve seen some sad shit.”

  Jada is one of my mentors, and I admire her greatly. She’s in her forties and tells it like it is, something I also appreciate. There’s never any guessing with her.

  “You can tell his hand was shaking when he wrote some of them,” I say, looking over the photographs we took. “As if he was questioning his decision for a bit but then found the strength somehow not to change his mind.”

  “In the last few notes, his writing became sloppier as if he had his mind set and just wanted it to be over.” Jada frowns, looking over the pictures. “It’s a tragedy.”

  Nodding, I agree. Filing is grunt work, but I also get more responsibility now. Some days, I’m grateful for it, and other days, like today, I’d rather not have to think about the hardships of life that bring someone to killing themselves.

  Ever since revealing my past to Sophie and being in the field at work, Emma is on my mind more than before. For years, I’ve blocked it out, not wanting the memories to surface. However, now I like thinking about her—when she was happy—when we were happy. Sometimes, it seems like a lifetime ago, and other times, I remember it like it was yesterday.

  Sophie can tell when I’m having one of those days. She doesn’t push or force me to talk about it; rather, she’ll lay with me and just let me hold her. Nothing will ever convince me that Emma’s death wasn’t my fault. I failed to react to the signs. Even if she’d cried wolf so many times before, I should’ve known better than to leave her alone. She’d been going to therapy and group sessions, but she was damn good at putting on an act when she wanted to. That much I know, and she proved it time and again.

  “What are you thinking?” Jada’s voice has me blinking away my thoughts, and I look up at her.

  Clearing my throat, I set the files down on the table. “I was wondering if there had been signs, warnings. If they’d called anyone to tell them they loved them or sold off any of their items. The typical things you see in planned suicides like this.”

  “According to Briggs…” She grabs one of the files from the pile and flips through a few pages. “He spoke with the daughter, and she seemed distraught but also not completely shocked. She’d been surprised he had a gun, but not that the father did it.”

  I furrow my brows, thinking. “I wonder why that is. Why her father being the killer wouldn’t surprise her?”

  “That’s not our job, Holt,” Jada warns as she always does. I want to dig into the nitty-gritty details, but our jobs are to process the scenes, establish the murder weapon, and help figure out the who. All the other stuff is unnecessary to solve the case. Even if it could help a family member find closure to know those details or just so I can sleep at night, it’s not our responsibility.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I grumble just to annoy her.

  “So how’s that girlfriend of yours doing?” she asks, handing me the files so I can put them in the proper box.

  “Amazing.” I smile, just thinking about Sophie. “Went to her fall concert last week and watching her play is always incredible. She’s so damn talented and special. Sometimes, it’s hard to believe she picked me.”

  Jada gives me a pointed look and opens her mouth, probably to yell at me for putting myself down, but she must think better of it and doesn’t say a word.

  A minute later, she asks, “Has Daddy Dearest met her yet?”

  “Only a couple of brief times,” I tell her. “The most recent time, he showed up uninvited. They exchanged greetings, but that was about it.”

  “And what about Serena?” She smirks, resting her hand on her hip. “Has she met Sophie?”

  “A few times.” I snort but don’t get into that whole story of the two of them. “Why are you so curious, anyway? You want an invite or something?”

  “Well, you talk about her so damn much, I feel like I know her. Plus, we spend a lot of time together at work, so maybe she wants to know who you’re spending your days with?” Jada arches a brow.

  “I intentionally don’t talk about work much. Being home is my safe zone,” I explain. “Sophie listens when I need to vent, but otherwise, if I don’t bring it up, she doesn’t either.”

  “From what you’ve told me, both of you have gone through some tough shit. Remember not to hold your feelings in, even if it’s hard to talk about. Trust me, I’m on my third marriage.”

  I chuckle, shaking my head when she smirks at her own dig. “Third time’s the charm, huh?”

  “Lord, I hope so. I’ve applied for marriage licenses and changed my last name so many times, the workers in the clerk’s office know me personally.” Her smirk widens.

  “They probably run away screaming when they see you, knowing all the paperwork you’re about to make them file,” I tease, loading up the evidence box and putting the lid on top.

  “Ha-ha.�
� Jada rolls her eyes. “Joking aside, I locked up my emotions, which is something we’re taught to do in this job. However, at home, you need to release them and let your partner in. If you’re having a crap day because of what you saw, then express it. Otherwise, they think it’s about them, and that’s when shit goes downhill.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” I taunt, grabbing a Sharpie so I can label the box. “Sophie’s a great listener too. I know she’d be open to talking about work, but I just hate bringing negative energy home when being with her makes me so damn happy.”

  “Yeah, you have that sick in love glow about you.” She circles a finger around her face to mock me.

  “And I’m not even sorry about it.” I grin, taking the evidence and walking toward the exit. “I’m leaving after I put this away. Unless you need me to help you with anything else?” I press my back against the door, waiting.

  “Nah, you’re fine. I’m just going to sign these docs, and then I’m done too.”

  “Have a good night then, Jada.” I flash her a wink before heading out.

  The moment I get home, I smell food cooking in the kitchen. When I see Sophie at the stove, stirring something, I quietly walk closer and softly brush her hair off her shoulder. I feel her shiver, but she doesn’t say a word. Instead, she tilts her head slightly, giving me the access I crave.

  Lowering my face, I press a kiss below her ear and then down her neck. Sophie continues stirring the pasta sauce, and if I wasn’t so damn hungry, I’d tear her ass away and haul her into the bedroom.

  “Mmm…Liam. You’re home early.” She moans, releasing a deep sigh.

  Liam? My eyes pop open, my hand stalling on her waist.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” she continues, her voice sweet like honey. “Because I was thinking we’d start with dessert first.” A deep growl escapes my throat. Then she wiggles her ass against my dick. “Mmm…what do you think?”

  I cup her ass cheek after slapping it and earn a squeal in return.

  “Ooh, dessert first it is.” Sophie arches her back, sticking that ass out further. Then she looks over her shoulder and bursts out laughing. “Oh, come on! Nothing?” She chuckles as if she’s the only one in on this joke.

  Because she is.

  Sophie turns off the burner, then spins around to face me. “You’re no fun when you don’t play along.” She gives me a pouty face.

  “You called me Liam…” I step back, crossing my arms.

  “Hence, the joke!” She cackles. “Not funny?” Sophie bites her bottom lip as if she’s trying to hold back a smirk.

  “Not even close.” I grab her waist, then haul her over my shoulder. She shrieks, and I smack her butt again. “And after the day I’ve had, I’m about to show you just how not funny that was.”

  “Mason!” she shouts, hitting my back. “Put me down.”

  “I’m about to make sure you never forget my name again…” I walk into her room and lock the door behind me. “Starting with stripping you naked.”

  “I didn’t forget your name…” she argues with a playful tone.

  I toss her on the mattress, then tower over her. “In fact, I should tie your naughty little ass to the bed.”

  “Mason…no.” Her expression turns serious, and I immediately regret the words. That asshole Dalton taped her to a chair, leaving her helpless and scared for her life.

  “You know I’d never hurt you, Soph.” I lean down and kiss her, rubbing the pad of my thumb against her cheek. “If I tie you up, it’d only be to please you. Never anything else.”

  Sophie smiles with a nod, then wraps her legs around my waist, completely pulling me on top of her. “I do know that, but maybe instead of tying me up, you can use handcuffs.” She waggles her brows, then smirks. “I have some.”

  I pull back, shocked. “You do?”

  “They were a gag gift,” she explains, shrugging. “But they totally work.”

  “Okay.” Leaning back, I reach behind my neck and tear off my shirt. “I have a few ideas.” I wink, and she points to her nightstand. After digging to the bottom, I find them, and once I’ve stripped her down to her bra and panties, I cuff her hands in front of her.

  “Keep your arms up, baby…” I tell her, raising them above her until they reach the headboard. “Don’t move.”

  I slide my tongue between her lips and cup her cheeks. The kiss turns hot and passionate, and I have to push her hands back twice.

  “Hands up,” I remind roughly.

  “Mason…” she whines, moaning. “You’re torturing me.”

  “I’m just getting started, baby.” I wink, then lower myself down her body, feathering kisses between her breasts and down her stomach. Once I’m between her legs, I move her panties to the side and slide my tongue over her.

  Sophie moans and wiggles underneath me, but when I slip two fingers inside and suck on her clit, she shakes and arches her hips. I love how her body responds and how hot she gets when I touch her.

  It’s been two weeks since our very first time, and when we make love, it never feels like enough. We always want more—more of each other, more togetherness. After breezing through a dozen condoms in only a few days, Sophie suggested we get tested together, and since she has an IUD, we didn’t have to worry about an unexpected pregnancy. The moment our results came back that we were both clean, we ditched them and have gotten a bit carried away. In the shower, in the kitchen, on the table, her bed, my bed, the dining room. Now I don’t have to worry about stocking condoms all over the damn house.

  Knowing Sophie’s history, I always make sure to ask her before doing anything she might not like. Even though she told me not to treat her like she’s fragile, I also know how triggers work, and the last thing I want to do is remind her of something those assholes did to her.

  I bring Sophie to the edge, teasing and licking her until she’s screaming my name. She tries reaching for me, but I give her a look that tells her she better get her arms up or else. When her breaths have steadied, I slide off the bed and smirk. “Ready?”

  She pinches her brows together. “For what?”

  Once I’ve removed my slacks and boxers, I grab her hips and flip her onto her stomach. She squeals and laughs as she looks at me over her shoulder. “Thanks for the warning.” She deadpans.

  “Oh, sweet Sophie…” I muse, sliding my finger up her arm. “The only warning you need is knowing you won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you.”

  “Mmm…I like the sound of that…” she purrs, licking her bottom lip.

  I kneel on the bed next to her and slide off her panties. Teasing her, I circle my finger over her swollen bud, and she moans before I even push inside her. I admire every inch of her body—her round ass, the curves of her waist, the sides of her breasts. I don’t know how I ever kept my hands off her. There were a lot of cold showers, that’s for sure.

  Towering over her, I bring my lips to her shoulder and kiss her smooth skin. Her dark hair cascades to one side, and I fist a handful, pulling slightly. “I’m going to take you from behind, baby, but keep your legs together.”

  “What?”

  “It’s going to feel really fucking good,” I reassure her. She’s already so goddamn tight; she’s going to squeeze my cock even more. “Trust me?”

  “Yes.” She blinks, looking at me. “Of course I do.”

  Leaning down, I kiss the tip of her nose. “If you don’t like it, tell me.”

  “I know.”

  She’s probably sick of me telling her that, but open communication is so important to me. I never want her to feel obligated to go along with what I’m doing if she’s not enjoying herself. Sophie’s sex drive matches mine, but sometimes, I have to hold myself back because I don’t want to hurt her. It’s so easy to get lost in the moment.

  I straddle just below her ass and slide my dick up and down her crack. Once I reach her pussy, I coat the tip with her arousal and tease her until she moans my name. “Mason, please…” she pleads, arching h
er back.

  “Keep your ass up like that for a second…” I tell her, stroking my length before pushing inside her. At first, I enter slow and gradual, but once I’m fully seated, I slide out, then ram back in.

  “Oh my God…” she squeals, trying to open her legs, but I don’t allow it.

  With her legs together like this, the sensation is tight as hell and so goddamn deep. “Fuck, baby. You feel so good…” I lean down slightly and press a kiss on her back. Then I reach up with one hand and grab her wrists, making sure the cuffs aren’t too tight in this position.

  I lean back on my knees until I’m straddling her legs and increase my pace as I spread her cheeks apart. Sophie pushes her body to meet my thrusts, and soon, we build a rhythm that has her coming undone, shaking beneath me.

  “That’s my girl.” I give her ass a little slap before pushing deeper. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer.”

  Sophie’s heavy breathing and moaning are all it takes for me to come deep inside her, grunting her name. I love being able to feel her bare, making our connection even more intimate, which didn’t even seem possible. I’m one hundred percent addicted to her.

  Towering over her with our breaths mingling together, I tilt her chin until our lips meet. “I love you, baby.”

  Sophie rewards me with the sweetest, most tender smile. “I love you, too.”

  After Sophie and I clean up and get dressed, we head to the kitchen hand-in-hand and finish preparing dinner. The sauce thickened in the pan, but it only takes a few minutes to warm it back up. I boil a pot of water for the noodles, and we work side by side as we exchange glances and smirks.

  “Can I ask you something?” Sophie’s voice is quieter than usual as if she’s nervous or embarrassed.

  “Of course you can. Anything,” I tell her, adding in a pinch of salt to the water.

  “Are you sure you’ve never liked Serena? I know she’s Emma’s sister, so it might be weird to even ask that, but I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. So if there ever was an attraction there or still is, I just want to know.” She bites down on her bottom lip.