Page 184 of Tell Me I'm Enough

He holds up a sign that says:CAR OFF AND WINDOWS UP. THINGS ARE ABOUT TO GET REALLY WET AROUND HERE.

Once I shut the car off, he puts the sign down and walks over to a box on a nearby chair, pulling out a pink car marker. And with a smirk, he hops on the hood of my car, staring directly at me—hair slicked from the water, shirt clinging to every muscle, and the most devious look on his face—then he writes in huge letters on my windshield:PRETTY GIRL.

The girls all start cheering immediately, fake fanning themselves, and acting like a bunch of horny teenagers.

He hops back down, holding my stare while I fight back a smile. Then Chase hoses the windshield down, making me jump a little because I wasn’t paying attention—too distracted by Mason.

Tank takes one of the rags and points to the girls in the back before squeezing it out over his shirtless and ripped body. That boy is the definition of a meathead gym boy, but he’s also one of the sweetest guys in the Sig house.

“Damn, I love supporting philanthropy,” Chloe groans out.

I can’t stop laughing at all of it. They’re all so insane andveryentertaining.

Suddenly, every door is being yanked open, and I scream when I see Mason—trouble written all over his face.

“You better not!”

“Look around, pretty girl. Little too late.”

I look around the inside of my car and realize every girl has been dragged out by one of the boys and are now outside, rubbing soap all over them and squealing.

I look back to Mason, the anticipation feeling like a hot wire I’m about to touch—gladlytouch at that.

I shake my head, even though I fully want whatever’s about to happen…to happen.

He reaches over and plugs his phone into my aux, and Birthday Sex by Jeremih plays as he turns it up to the max volume.

My hand slaps my mouth in shock, and the laugh I’m trying to hold in is threatening to come out very loud and very unladylike.

Mason signals outside the car to a couple of the guys, and suddenly the car is covered in soap so thick you can’t see outside any of the windows.

“I heard someone has a birthday coming up,” he whispers. “I’ve got a gift to deliver.”

The blush that creeps onto my cheeks is beyond embarrassing.

Mason slides into my car, fully soaked and covered in soap. He starts dancing on me the best he can in this awkward position, and no matter how funny he’s trying to be, it’s still all ridiculously sexy.

He gives me every one of his best moves, grinding on me, rubbing his hands along my thighs, and even taking the soap off his body and spreading it along my cheek before taking his tongue and licking it off.

“No way did that taste good!” I say, shocked and appalled.

He moves right next to my ear, his mouth brushing against my skin. “You always taste good.”

He tortuously kisses my neck before sliding back out of the car and pulling me with him.

“What are you doing?” I ask, still breathless and laughing.

“I need a rinse—stat!”

Before I can say no, I’m soaked head to toe in water.

Mason picks me up and places me on the hood of my car, hands gripping tightly onto my hips.

“Put your hands on my shoulders and hold on.”

I do as he says, confused, but going along with whatever he tells me to do. He starts moving me back and forth on the hood, and I burst out laughing. “I’m not a fucking rag, Mase!”

His voice drops lower, just for me. “I wish it wereyourmess I was cleaning up right now.”