STORY EXCERPT:

The two weeks she had intended to stay in Camden had turned into two months. Each time she was due to leave, Agatha feigned illness, and Katie volunteered to stay with her. Each week, from the moment she had showed up in Camden, Agatha laid an envelope on her dresser with one hundred and fifty dollars. Now with Mason’s proposal, she didn’t know whether she would be staying there or returning to Chapel Hills. The following morning, with Mason’s proposition on her mind, she sat down with Agatha.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” the older woman said, taking a seat across from her.

“Mason asked me to marry him.”

The old woman stared at her for a long moment before she replied.

“That doesn’t surprise me. What did you say to him?”

“I didn’t give him an answer. I decided that I would talk to you first.”

“You know how I feel about Mason, and you also know how I feel about you. I would like nothing better than to see the two of you together, but you’ve still got a mother, and you should speak to her first.”

“I don’t know, Aunt Agatha. I don’t know what Momma would say about it.”

“How old are you, Katie?”

“Twenty-five.”

“You are no longer a child. Mason is a decent man and she should be happy for you. Go ahead. Give her a call and tell her the good news.”

Katie walked over to the phone and hesitated before she made the call.

“Go on. Call her,” Agatha urged.

The telephone rang for a long time, and just when she was about to hang up, Blanche answered.

“Hello, Momma,” she said, staring at Agatha.

The conversation went on for a few minutes, before Katie summoned up the courage to tell her mother the real reason for the call.

“Momma, the real reason for my call is to tell you that Aunt Agatha’s friend Mason has asked me to marry him.”

Katie kept listening and from the look on her face Agatha knew that Blanche had not given her blessing. She took the receiver away from Katie and listened to the tirade her mother was meting out, while the young woman headed to the bathroom.

“Blanche,” she interrupted her. “Stop and listen to me.”

It was obvious that the tirade hadn’t stopped.

* * * *

“What did you say, Blanche? You know better than that. How dare you compare Mason to those three scoundrels?”

Blanche was unhappy with the turn of events. She wanted her daughter away from the Ridley brothers, and had accused her friend Agatha of handing Katie over to Mason Oliver, whom she also deemed a Ridley.

“If you can’t see what a lovely girl Katie is, and how she is trying to turn her life around, then I have nothing more to say to you.”

With those words, Agatha ended the call.

“Why would Momma be so against me marrying Mason? She doesn’t know him.”

“That is the problem. She doesn’t know him. She doesn’t know what a wonderful young man he is.”

“Aunt Agatha, how well do you really know Mason? Sometimes I get the feeling that you know him a whole lot better than you let on.”

“Katie, you will learn that life is full of surprises. People will hate you, people will use you, try to hurt you, but know what?” she asked, putting a hand on Katie’s shoulder. “You are your own best friend. You know you can depend on you. Don’t forget that. Now let me call Mason and get him over here. The time has come to put all our cards on the table.”

The stress seemed to be taking its toll on Agatha. She said she needed a rest and a little time to think before Mason came over, but Katie knew that his visit was resting heavily on her mind.

In spite of her mother’s negative comments, Katie decided she would make her own decision. She was, after all, twenty-five years old and it was time to make her every decision in life. Her thoughts were on Mason. She thought she could feel his hands touching her, awakening her senses. He had opened a new world to her in the bedroom. She’d never experienced any of these things with the Ridley brothers, and couldn’t wait to share more of his unusual desires.

* * * *

Mason arrived a little early, and his spirits were no higher than Agatha’s. He joined Katie in the kitchen as she put the finishing touches on dinner.

“Have you thought over what we spoke about?”

“I have, but my mother is making things difficult.”

“Thought I heard your voice,” Agatha said, standing at the kitchen door. “Let’s all sit down. I have no idea how this evening will turn out, but we can’t put this off any longer.”

Katie brought in a pitcher of lemonade and set it down on the table. She poured three glasses, gave them each one, and joined them. There was an uncomfortable silence as they sipped their drinks.

Mason broke the silence.

“Agatha, last night I asked Katie to marry me. I know we haven’t known each other for a long time, but I am serious about her and want to make her my wife.”

“Well, Mason, you know how I feel about you. There’s nothing I would like better than to see you two together, but Katie has a mother, a mother who’s not keen on the idea of you and Katie getting married.”

“Doesn’t anyone think that I should have something to say in this matter?” Katie asked. “I can make my own decision.”

“It’s not as simple as that,” the older woman said.

“What could be so difficult? I’m not marrying the King of England, for God’s sake.”

“I want you to think carefully about what I’m going to ask you,” Agatha said.

ADULT EXCERPT:

“I feel much better now,” she replied.

“Have you had dinner?”

“Yes, and it was delicious. I had roast duck and wild rice.”

“Mmm! That sounds delicious. Did you have dessert?”

“No. I didn’t. Have you had dinner?”

“Yes, but would you like to have dessert?” he asked her.

“Not really. I don’t have room for dessert.”

“But I want you to have dessert, Katie.”

She recognized that tone in his voice, and she closed the curtains and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Are you still dressed?”

“Yes,” she said, softly.

“Are you still wearing underwear, Katie?”

“Yes, would you like me to take them off?”

“No, don’t do that. I want you to lie down on the bed.”

“I’m lying down,” she whispered.

“Put your right hand down the front of your underwear.”

“I’m doing it,” she replied.

“Now touch yourself. Are you doing it?”

“Yes,” she said softly, her eyes closed tightly.

“Do you feel the way I make you feel, Katie?”

“Ye-yes,” she stammered.

“Are you wet?”

“Yes, Mason,” she replied, a tremor in her voice.

“Now move your hand up and down your wet cleft. How does it feel?”

“I feel good, Mason. So good. I wish you were here with me.”

“Tell me when you’re getting close,” he whispered into the phone.

Mason could hear her moans and her groans.

“Yes, sweetheart. I want you to keep talking to me. Squeeze your nipple,” he whispered. “How close are you?”

“I’m really close, Mason. Fuck, I’m so close.”

“Stop!” he shouted. “Remove your hand, Katie.”

“But why, Mason?”

“Remove your hand immediately,” he shouted, his voice ringing in her ears.

She was suddenly quiet.

“Why did you stop me?” she asked, frustration evident in her voice.

“I want you to save it for me. I want you to save that lust and passion for me.”

“But there will be enough for you, Mason. Please let me come.”

“Katie, save that orgasm for me. If you don’t, I will know. Promise me you’ll keep it for me.”

“I will, Mason.”

“That’s a good girl. I’ve got some work to do. Will you be all right?”

“Yes, I’ll be all right.”

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered.

“Mason, I’ll be busy around two tomorrow afternoon.”

“Why? Where are you going?”

“I have an appointment with Mr. Lindhurst at two o’clock. He’s going to read me the contents of the Will.”

“I should’ve been there with you.”

“I won’t do anything without first talking to you. I’ll make another appointment for Friday, when you’re here.”

“That’s a brilliant idea. I have a big surprise for you when you return.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?”

“Good night, Mason.”

“Good night. Remember what I said. Save that orgasm for me.”

* * * *

“Let’s talk about this later,” he said, cornering her in the elevator. “Are you still holding that orgasm for me?”

“You know that I am.”

“Touch yourself right now,” he whispered, his mouth close to her ear.

“Here in the elevator?”

“Yes, Katie. I missed you so much.”

“What happens if someone might get in with us?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll shield you if that happens.”

She lifted her skirt and pushed her hand down the front of her underwear. Mason kept watching her, and she stared at him, while touching herself. Luckily the elevator made it all the way to the thirtieth floor without stopping.

“Don’t stop touching yourself,” he said, taking the key from her hand.

He opened the door and led her straight to the picture window.

“This is a beautiful view,” he said. “Such a handsome landscape, don’t you think?”

She murmured her agreement, as he gently rubbed his hands along her arms, and kneaded his hard arousal against her buttocks. He circled her waist and moved his hands higher, filling each one with a handful of creamy goodness, before working his way up to the hard scarlet tips.

“So luscious,” he said, rubbing his fingertips around her peaks. “You want me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

“Are you really still holding that orgasm for me?”

“Yes, Mason.”

“You know you can tell me the truth,” he replied, nipping the edge of her ear with his teeth. “You didn’t wait for me, did you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Who were you thinking of when you stole my orgasm?” he asked, pulling her hand from her underwear.

“You,” she replied, her breath escaping her lips.

“No, you weren’t. You were thinking of Bridges Ridley, weren’t you?” he asked, sliding his hand down the front of her underwear and teasing her wet clit.

“I was thinking of both of you, Mason.”

“Did we both touch you at the same time?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Which of us made you come? Was it Bridges or was it me?”

“You, it was you, Mason.”

“Fuck,” he exclaimed. “You’re so wet.”

She widened her stance giving him better access to her aching clit, and he slipped a finger inside her.

“You want both of us, don’t you?”

“No, Mason. I want just you.”

He pulled his hand away, spun her around, and gazed into her face. Then, bunching her skirt around her waist, he shoved her underwear down to her ankles. He dropped to his knees and spread her legs farther apart. Pushing his hands between her thighs, he seized her butt cheeks, a little too tightly, and pulled her closer.

“This is mine,” he said, his tongue dancing on her clit.

“Mason,” she called out.

“What do you want? Tell me,” he said, his tongue exploring every part of her wetness.

She moaned, rested her elbows on the window sill, and pushed her pelvis toward him.

“Is that what you want?” he asked, shoving the edge of his tongue into her clenching channel.

Her body writhed under his tongue, and she exploded, one hand digging into his scalp, and the other supporting her against the window sill.