Chapter Thirty
Chloe
My phone is off while I stay with Audrey on Sunday. I’m leery of going to work on Monday, but I push the thought aside. I like my job, and I don’t want to let my personal life ruin that.
I borrow a suit from Audrey for work Monday morning, making me feel like a million bucks. There’s a reason people spend so much money on clothes. I’ve heard the saying that clothes make the person but never realized how true that was until slipping into a thousand-dollar suit. I’ll feel horrible if something happens to it, but Audrey waves her hand as if I’m foolish. She assures me they’re just clothes and clothes are replaceable.
My morning flies by without a problem, without a sign of Mason. But as lunchtime nears, he approaches me. I see an unreadable expression on his face.
“Come eat with me,” he says. Two women I work next to gather their belongings and head downstairs to the deli. I’m supposed to go with them, but they smile and say goodbye without looking back. If the boss wants to change your lunch plans, there’s no arguing.
I’m not thrilled, but I obediently stand and follow him to his office. If he wants lunch, I’d much rather it happen in public. But there are too many people in the offices, and I don’t want to have a tantrum and make a scene. If I want employees talking about us, making a scene is a good way to accomplish it.
We arrive in his office without speaking a word. He closes the door, and I see that food has already been delivered. He was sure I’d come back with him. Of course he was. People don’t deny him what he wants.
“Look, Mason...” The silence feels like a weight dragging me beneath icy water. “We made a mistake, thinking we could jump into an affair. It’s not who I am. I don’t think it’s who you are, either. You’re a respected businessman in this community, and you need to be more discreet in your personal affairs. I think we should admit this isn’t working. Yes, there’s sexual tension, and yes, it’s obvious I want you, but we can both agree to get over it and have nothing more than a working relationship from here on out.”
I’m proud of how calm I sound as I give my rehearsed speech. It’s clear and precise, and there’s no wavering in my tone. He listens as if he hears me. There’s a flare in his eyes, but other than that, he doesn’t give a reaction.
“I’m sorry about Saturday night. I... I was caught unaware in the car. I don’t do relationships. I don’t develop feelings. But you’re sliding past my defenses and I... I don’t know how to handle it, so I shut down. I know I hurt you.”
An apology seems foreign from his lips. I know it isn’t something he normally does. My defenses are instantly shattered at the vulnerability in his voice. I want to protect him, want to help him.
“You’re a man who knows what he wants. You like sex without commitment. There’s nothing wrong with that if your partner feels the same. I thought I could be that way, thought I could do that since my boyfriend doesn’t want me. But I can’t have sex with someone and have them treat me like a whore. Even if that’s what I’m being.” The last words are spoken barely above a whisper.
He moves quickly, approaching me and tugging me against him. There’s fire in his eyes.
“Don’t!” His voice is a low growl. “We have something together, something that doesn’t happen every day. I’ll admit it scares the shit out of me. I’ll even admit I saw you and branded you, instantly wanting you. But that has changed. You’re not a whore. Don’t ever say that again!”
“What do you want from me?” I ask. I know he wants sex, but it seems he wants more. I’m confused and vulnerable.
“I don’t know what I want,” he says, his voice rising. He’s angry, but it isn’t me he’s upset with; the situation is throwing him off balance, something he isn’t used to. He isn’t sure what to think about it, what to do about it. I completely understand how he’s feeling.
His heart thuds against mine, and he leans forward, placing his forehead to mine. It’s such a gesture of submission, of vulnerability; my heart melts. He’s as scared of these feelings as I am. To see this man who can have anyone, but wants me, come unglued, act vulnerable is more than I can handle. He’s giving me power here, he’s giving me more than words. He’s giving me what I need more than anything else.
I’m terrified because I’ve developed real feelings for him. I never expected that to happen. I should feel more guilt, but suddenly I don’t. I feel too good with him. It feels right. Can I be in love with two people at once? What kind of a person does that make me? It doesn’t seem to matter anymore. Even with all of the pep-talks I’ve given myself, this one moment of vulnerability he’s showing me is enough to break through all of my self-doubts and guilt.
I wrap my arms around him, and we stay like this for several moments. Neither of us thinks about the food waiting for us. Neither of us is thinking about anything outside of this embrace. I can’t walk away anymore. It seems I can’t walk away from anyone even when I should.
“Kiss me,” I say. I’ve made up my mind. I don’t even care anymore if I’ll hate myself for it later. In this moment, right here and now, I can’t walk away from him.
He pulls back and looks in my eyes. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve decided, and unless he rejects me again, we’re moving forward. Maybe I’ll regret it, but I can’t walk away from him.
Fire is always brewing beneath the surface with him, lighting his eyes. He wraps his hands beneath my butt and pulls me up as he moves toward the couch. His lips settle on mine. It’s a gentle kiss — a relieved kiss.
But as soon as he lays me down and covers my body with his, all gentleness evaporates. It’s been too long in coming. We need each other too badly. My clothes are shed in a rush as he fights with buttons and zippers.
His mouth trails across my neck, down my chest, and over my trembling stomach. I look at him as he sheds the last of his clothes, needing to taste him as he’s tasted me. His body is sheer perfection, not a single pinch of extra flesh on him. He’s solid and smooth, tanned and beautiful.
I lower my head, and my mouth trails across his chest, my tongue circling his nipples. He moans as I suck one. My core tightens and tingles. I’m on fire. He tastes as good as he smells.
I pull his pants off, gasping as he springs free, his thickness greater than I imagined. He’s smooth and hard, thick and long, and absolutely beautiful. I wrap my fingers around him and slide them up and down, the shiny gleam on him giving me lubrication to pleasure him.
I have to taste him. My mouth circles his thick crown, and I groan around him as my fingers squeeze. He’s delicious. His fingers clench in my hair, tugging hard as I move my mouth up and down his length. His body is tense, his legs tremble.
“Enough,” he groans, pulling on me. I want more. I want his hardness buried deep inside me.
He flips me over to my back, no clothes between us. I’m mesmerized by the passion in his eyes as he lies over me. He kisses me, and I hold on tight, our mouths colliding.
His hands are on my hips. He moves his head as if he’s going to explore my body more, but I cling to him. I don’t want that. I want him buried within me.
“Condom,” I pant. “I want you now.”
“Yes.” He reaches for the table next to the couch, pulls open the drawer, and the beautiful sound of a condom packet ripping open is a symphony to my ears. He quickly sheaths himself, then positions his body over mine.
“Look at me,” he demands.
I open my eyes and gaze into his. He clutches my hips, and I can’t turn away. Our bodies are damp with arousal. We’re both ready. He kisses me one more time before leaning back. Then he begins pressing into me.
He’s so thick, so hard, so big. I stare at him, completely lost in his gaze as he buries himself deeper. He rests for a moment as my body adjusts to him. We fit beautifully.
Then we move together, both of us frantic to know each other, to complete this journey in an explosion of pleasure. Our moans ring through the room as he thrusts in and out of me. Pressure builds. He kisses me, hard and rough, as he pushes harder and harder, faster and faster.
I can’t do much more than hold on tight and pray I’m not lost forever. The orgasm takes me by surprise, ripping through me, leaving me bare and vulnerable without any defenses. He follows quickly behind me, crying out my name as he finds his release.
It takes a long time for us to come down from the high we’ve reached together. He doesn’t let me go, doesn’t disconnect from me. I cling tightly, not wanting this moment to end, not wanting to return to the real world.
But reality settles in. There’s no other choice. We disconnect, finally part from each other, and both of us dress. I’m unable to talk, not sure how I feel. Can we walk from his office without either of us saying a word to the other?
“This is right, Chloe. Don’t think it isn’t,” Mason demands.
I turn and look at him. Do I have regrets? Shockingly, I don’t.
“Thank you.” He gave me a gift I didn’t realize I needed.
“This has just begun,” he promises.
“I know.” I smile at him.
Whether it’s right or wrong, we’re in this together now. I don’t think either of us has any idea of what comes next. I just know we finally jumped off the cliff together, and there’s no turning back. There will be an end date, I just don’t know when it will be. I guess I have no other choice but to enjoy the ride for as long as it will last.