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“Nothing, ma’am. Have a good evening.” He looked away from me, even though I was standing right there. Oh my God, did he think I was a prostitute?
I quickly walked over to Adam who was waiting by the elevator. When we stepped on there was actually elevator music. Like in all the old movies I used to watch with my mom. But I wasn’t really focused on the ornate details. I turned toward Adam. “What kind of women does Mr. Caldwell usually entertain?”
Adam turned away from me. “Mr. Caldwell doesn’t usually entertain.”
I laughed.
Adam looked uncomfortable. He probably hadn’t lied. The women that came to Mason probably entertained him, not the other way around.
“How often does he have visitors?” I asked.
“I don’t know, ma’am. I’m only part-time.”
“I see. Who was the last visitor that you escorted up to see him?”
Adam seemed relieved. “His brother came over a week or so ago.”
“Oh.” Mason had told me he hadn’t gone to any of those clubs or anything since we had met. So maybe that meant no late night visitors too. Maybe the guy at the front desk just thought I didn’t look like a normal guest at Trump International. It really seemed like he thought I didn’t look like one of Mason’s normal hookers though.
But it didn’t matter either way. I wasn’t going to get in my own head tonight. It was time I enjoyed myself. This was what single people did. Especially single girls who really wanted to start dating the man they were about to see. Stop it.
Chapter Forty-Six
Mason
I opened up the lid to one of the pans on the stove and oil splashed onto my t-shirt. “Shit.” I quickly pulled off my shirt and tossed it onto the floor. I didn’t know why I had offered to cook. I had no idea what the hell I was doing. Dinner didn’t really matter, though. Tonight was only about one thing. And we both knew it. But it was more than just sex to me. I needed to hold out until she begged me. If I could stick to the game plan, I could have her for as long as I wanted. Which meant she most likely had to eat this meal before I fucked her. Hopefully it was edible.
I opened up the oven door and looked at the casserole dish. It looked like it was cooking nicely. The broth was bubbling and it smelled good. I closed the door and leaned against the kitchen counter.
Bee was refreshing, but she was also torturing me. Ever since I had started attending the gala I had always gotten laid afterwards. Bee had ruined my perfect record. And I was mad at her. I had talked with her all night. Talked. And tonight wasn’t just about finally having her. It was about punishing her for all the hell she had been putting me through. The waiting was unbearable. I could feel my erection pressing against my jeans. Even thinking about her made me hard. Or maybe it was just because I hadn’t cum in over a week.
A knock sounded on the door. I took a deep breath. I just needed to stick to the plan. And hopefully she didn’t catch on that the front desk thought she was a prostitute. That would not be a good start to our evening. I ran my hand through my hair and opened up the door.
I don’t know what it was, but she seemed to look even sexier every time I saw her. She didn’t say anything, she was just staring at my abs. It was a good thing I was a messy chef. This was a pretty good start to the night. I had the urge to kiss her. But we weren’t in a relationship. I didn’t need to kiss her hello. Stick to the plan.
“You’re not wearing a shirt,” she said, without looking up at me. Her eyes seemed to be stuck on my abs. She was horny. Maybe even as horny as me. It was written all over her face.
“I got oil on it while I was cooking. I can go put on another one if you want.”
“No, that’s okay.” She finally looked up at my face. “Maybe I should just take mine off so we’re even?” She laughed and then looked away from me, clearly embarrassed. “I was actually debating whether or not I should wear any clothes at all. You know, the whole naked under the trench coat thing?” Her face was bright red. “But I’m not, see.” She took off her jacket. “Fully clothed.” She closed the door and her eyes gravitated back toward my six pack.
She was so innocent, yet somehow kinky as hell. There was no debate about what was on her mind. She looked nervous and excited at the same time. Wasn’t that enough? She clearly wanted me. Screw dinner. Screw the plan. I needed her now. I pressed myself against her, pinning her against the door. I grabbed her arms and lifted them over her head. She didn’t resist my touch at all.
“Keep your arms up,” I said. I pushed her sweater up her waist, over her breasts, and up her arms. I threw her sweater down on the floor.
She kept her arms raised and blinked her long lashes at me.
I had never been tempted to abandon a plan before. What was this girl trying to do to me? I moved my hand to her back and unstrapped her bra. I tried not to think about the fact that I was the one caving in as I pulled her bra slowly down her arms, exposing her ripe breasts. Her nipples were hard, making her arousal even more evident. She looked embarrassed, standing in the middle of my foyer without her top. She moved her hands to cover herself, but I grabbed them.
“Turn around.” I couldn’t wait to tie her up and have my way with her. I could still make this happen under my terms.
She shook her hands free and placed them on my six pack. I lowered my eyebrows. No one ever defied me. She was pushing all my buttons. She lowered her hands down my stomach and touched my belt. I looked down at her as she unhinged the clip and pulled my belt out of the loops. Her fingers were shaking as she unbuttoned and unzipped my pants. Everything she did was so sexy and it had me on edge.
“Turn around,” I repeated.
She bit her lip as she looked up at me.
Fuck it. I grabbed the back of her neck and brought her lips to mine. If she wasn’t going to listen to me, I’d just fuck her until she screamed my name. I was done playing games. I needed to be deep inside her tight pussy. I grabbed her ass and lifted her legs around me.
