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“Yes. Right on the money.”
“Would it be horrible then if I used you right now to further piss off Whitney?” I asked, eyeing her across from me. She was engaged in conversation with the guy next to her, but her eyes were us and shamefully so. They didn’t bother to avert even when I caught her stare.
“It would be torture. But I’m not going to stop you.”
I chewed my lip, already feeling the buzz from just half a glass of wine. So lifting my legs, I draped them over Mason’s lap. His heavy lidded eyes shot awake when my skirt rode several inches up my thighs. Sitting up, he pulled it down for me, muttering under his breath as he shook his head. “Yeah, I know you don’t actually belong to me but fuck if I’m going to let any guy here look up your skirt.”
“Sorry,” I grinned, crossing one leg over the other. Mason watched my dress ride up another inch but this time he left it to study me with disbelief.
“You know, you’re fucking evil when you’ve had a little bit of wine,” he said, taking the glass from my hands and setting it aside. I feigned shock for having my drink confiscated.
“Really? You’re going to be the controlling boyfriend right now?”
“No, I’m going to be the guy who tries to prevent the worst case of blue balls he’s ever had in his life.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the more you drink, the more you like to torture me apparently and as much I want you to flash me your panties, I’m not exactly sure I can handle seeing that much of you right now.”
I chewed my lip so hard it hurt. “And why not?” I asked, thrilled by the dead seriousness in Mason’s eyes.
“Don’t fucking tease me, little girl. You know exactly why not.”
God. “I do.” I felt a wickedness crawling through me as I chewed my lip. “But for some reason I want you to spell it out for me.”
Mason sneered. “You don’t want that,” he murmured, eyes staring hard ahead at nothing. I hooked my fingers into the neck of his sweater and felt the inaudible groan he let out.
“Why, you don’t think I can handle it?” I challenged. “Tits. Ass. Cock. I know those words, Mason, and I know you think I’m so deeply prissy and vanilla but I’m actually a big girl, so you can go ahead and use them on me,” I said, burning hot and for some reason wanting to feel even hotter. My heart beat faster when Mason turned to me.
“You want it then?” His mutter was raspy and low and his eyes burned so deep into mine I felt paralyzed before he even spoke. “Fine, Taylor,” he whispered, pressing his hand down hard on my thigh. “You walked in here and the first thing I thought of was how goddamned good you looked and how bad I wanted to rip that dress of those perfect tits of yours. I thought about what you’d look like in those boots and those boots alone and it turned me into a bit of a fucking crazy person for a second because I had some very real thoughts about grabbing you, taking you home and fucking you on my bed till I could hear those pretty lips screaming my name. Does that get the point across or do you want to hear just how hard and deep I imagined my cock inside you?”
Holy fuck.
Just like that, panties ruined.
And suddenly, I was the one who couldn’t look Mason in the eye. I stared ahead, breathing jaggedly and trying to figure out how to calm myself down and come back to Earth. But promptly ruining my process was Sofia, who found us at the couches and forced everyone to scoot down for her, which of course had me quickly smashed up against Mason’s hard chest, arms around his neck and my skirt riding so high up my bent legs that he actually growled as he yanked it back down this time – and so hard that it brought my deep-V several inches lower on my breasts.
“Fucking Christ, Taylor,” he hissed, removing me from his body. “I need to either fuck you now or you need to get far away from me.”
I stared, stunned by his words. When my arms fell from around his neck, he let out a hard breath, flashing me an I didn’t mean it that way look, but it was too late. A disturbed frown pinched my brows as I felt suddenly as cheap and dirty as the diamond on my neck was supposed to make me not feel. What the hell are you doing, Taylor? I demanded myself before swinging my legs off Mason’s lap and getting up. “Restroom?” I asked Noah in a perfectly normal voice so as to thwart attention. When he pointed me in the direction, I turned, avoiding Mason’s eyes as I made a beeline back into the penthouse.
What the fuck?
My heart was beating fast as I walked aimlessly inside. I wasn’t so much trying to find the bathroom as I was trying to figure out what exactly made me feel like shit just now. Oh. I know. Probably the fact that I’d just heard Mason express genuine desire for me for the first time, but it fucking sucked. It essentially translated to, “If you’re not servicing me, you’re of no worth to me,” and it made m
e feel so goddamned stupid for being so openly flirtatious with him tonight. Why, why did you let Sofia hype you up? I scolded myself, remembering that Mason Leo was still Mason Leo. He was a man I’d hated for a reason for years, who thought with his dick before all else, and I might actually be insane if I thought that hanging out with me for a week would somehow alter his way of thinking.
“Bathroom’s the door next to the mirror.”
Jumping, I spun around to find myself facing Whitney. “For God’s sake, what do you want?” I asked, apparently fresh out of fucks to give for the night. She simpered.
“Grabbing a bottle of water. But now I’m just laughing to myself.”
“Well, enjoy.” I turned to go but she stopped me with what she said next.
“I know you haven’t had sex with Mason yet. I could tell even before the weird little exchange you just had on the couch.” She grinned when I stopped to look at her. “See, you can’t even pretend or deny it. You’re obviously with him to get Aaron’s attention, and he obviously gave you that beautiful fucking necklace because he’s hoping to squeeze a lil’ sex out of you before whatever arrangement you have going on is over.” She smiled as she shook the water from her hair, waiting patiently for me to hit back with a retort. But I had nothing. “I mean I can’t blame Mase for being curious about fucking his little brother’s ex. Though honestly, I doubt the taboo of it will make up for your lack of bedroom enthusiasm. Aaron told me all about it,” she said, smirking at the absolute shock frozen on my face.
There was no lack of bedroom enthusiasm – unless Aaron was talking about the few months after the worst time of our lives, which I prayed to God he wasn’t because he knew exactly why I couldn’t bring myself to have sex at that time. I didn’t feel bad about it either, because I was every bit justified and if Aaron had really gone and griped to Whitney about how I was feeling during that time, I was about sure now that I’d murder him once I saw him in St. Lucia.
