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“I’m proud of you, baby,” said, cupping his cheek.
His eyelids closed, and he swallowed audibly.
“None of that.” I removed my touch and slapped his ass. Hard. “Focus on your interview. This one won’t be with Silas, but if you get called back for a second, it will. Troy told me the woman you’re meeting with today, Shari, is a sweetheart—and I’ll let you in on a little secret—she was married to an abusive narcissist for ten years before breaking free.”
Having that tidbit of information would give Mason’s subconscious some comfort when sitting with her.
Blowing out a steady exhale, Mason nodded. “I’m a good fit for the position on that team Silas is building. I’m just nervous.”
“As anyone would be.” I straightened his tie and smoothed down his starched collar even though it didn’t need it. “Now go and nail this interview, and when I get home tonight, I’ll allow you drop to your knees for me to celebrate.”
Mason’s pupils swelled, his lips parted. “You’re finally going to let me give you something?”
“Mason.” I pursed my lips and shook my head. We’d had the discussion before about what he’d realized one night while not being able to sleep. Even though truth had clicked in his brain, sometimes he forgot how fulfilling my desire to love him was a gift he laid at my feet—or rather, on my bed. “You’re the best at both—offering me your body and taking my cock. I couldn’t ask for a better man.”
His eyes welled, and I had to slap his ass again. “Get in your car, baby. And be yourself—let Shari know the real you because I promise—she’s going to be impressed by who you are.”
He drove away a few minutes later, and since I had roughly ten minutes before my office hours started, I headed on foot to the Dunks three blocks down from Humanity House. I shot off a text to see if Zeke wanted anything.
While the summer sun lay warm on my back as it rose in the sky, the heat of the day hadn’t yet taken over the air. Thankful the nonprofit I worked for didn’t require a strangling tie around my neck, I breathed deep, telling myself complete contentment and peace would eventually settle over me.
Mason and I had agreed to let our past remain behind us—I just had to focus on doing as he had been finding the strength to do. Perhaps it was time for me to return to therapy and find a way to move on from the part of me that could never again see the light of day.
The scent of coffee and donuts assaulted me as I stepped into Dunks, grinning that a star had aligned for me. I’d somehow hit a lull in their usual morning rush. I strode right up the counter and gave my and Zeke’s orders, noting the sounds of others filing in the entrance behind me. While I’d already had waffles and strawberries with Mason earlier that morning, Zeke had skipped breakfast and had asked for a bacon, egg, and cheese on an onion bagel.
A hand brushed over my bare elbow, and I shifted to the side, smiling to offer apologies for bumping into the person behind me.
I recognized the blond curls, the sly smirk on his lips, but his blue eyes carried that same glint from the last time I’d run into him.
“Well, hello again, handsome,” he purred, leaning toward me in a cloud of flowery perfume.
I stepped back fully, creating distance between us. “Good morning,” I stated gruffly, needing to dismiss him and for the Dunks employee to get me Zeke’s sandwich asap.
“Can I help you?” The worker behind the counter said to the blond, turning his focus off me.
“I’ll just have one of those blueberry muffins, Janice,” he spoke as though he knew the woman, his wink making her blush.
“You got it, Joseph.”
The blood left my head on a crash course with my toes.
Blond. Dressed in a rose-colored top and designer jeans with a hint of a pink thong peeking from the waist band. Joseph.
Fuck.
I spun on my heel and walked out of Dunks without Zeke’s sandwich, but I couldn’t wait, couldn’t take the chance of Joseph Delaney the third wanting to converse with me again. I feared smashing in his nose for what he’d done to Mason—for making it impossible for me to one day be free to dress like I truly wanted.
I also feared him pulling a knife to slash my face.
He’d stopped texting Mason, but the threats he’d made, the words he’d written, assured us the young man wasn’t stable.
Had he followed me? Watched us in the parking lot?
“Hey!”
Flinching, I glanced over my shoulder.
Joseph hurried toward me, bag in hand. “You forgot your order!”
