Chapter Sixteen #2
She hands me a bottle of water. “I know you said you have a boyfriend, but you might want to reconsider that.”
I unscrew the cap and take a long sip. “The men here are creeps. Even if I didn’t have a boyfriend, I wouldn’t want any of them near me.”
Miss Deveroux leans forward, and her sickly sweet perfume almost makes me gag. “I’m not talking about the men here. I’m talking about one man. I know you know who I’m talking about.”
My fingers close around the bottle, and I stiffen. “I thought there was a rule about mixing business with pleasure.”
Miss Deveroux pulls away and shrugs. “It’s more of a suggestion, but when you’ve got someone looking at you like Mr. Payne is… he can give you one hell of a good time.”
“I don’t think it would be worth it.”
Miss Deveroux raises an eyebrow. “Not even to shave time off your debt?”
I clear my throat. “I doubt he’d shave off enough…”
The more Miss Deveroux jokes about it, the harder it is to ignore.
I am not desperate enough to sleep with Mason to clear my father’s debt. Still, knowing that he watches me and that his hunger is evident to those around him, makes me want him even more.
Damn it.
Why does the only friend I have in this place have to be observant?
Why can’t she just give me cleaning advice while we joke about making it out of here?
I don’t like knowing Mason has staked his claim with a bracelet, and I like it even less knowing that my resolve is wavering.
It’s the real reason why I haven’t yet considered an alternate deal, and why all my conversations with Noah are brief and touch on random topics.
I can’t bear the thought of him hearing the uncertainty in my voice.
Miss Deveroux smiles. “Why don’t you consider participating in the hunt, then? You’re in good shape. I bet you could outrun at least half the guys here.”
My stomach dips. “The hunt?”
Miss Deveroux reaches under the bar and pulls out a screen.
After pressing a few buttons, she slides it across the table and waits.
When the dark screen lights up, my eyes widen.
The woman in the video is wearing a white dress, and her dark hair is whipping behind her as she races through the forest.
A group of men are calling to her in the distance, their voices loud and taunting.
“I don’t understand.”
Miss Deveroux polishes a glass with a glint in her eyes. “The women who agree to participate in the hunt must outrun the men chasing them in the forest on the edge of the property. If they can avoid being caught for a certain time, they get to leave.”
I glance up sharply. “What do you mean they get to leave? Just like that?”
Miss Deveroux nods. “Their debt is forgiven, and they even get offered money.”
I hand her the screen and place a hand on my hip. “What’s the catch? That sounds too good to be true.”
Miss Deveroux’s smile turns mischievous. “I knew you were smarter than you looked. There’s no catch, but I’ve worked here for almost three decades, and I’ve only seen a handful of women win.”
My heart drops. “A handful? How many have tried?”
“Too many to count. It’s too good of an opportunity to pass up.”
Someone calls out to Miss Deveroux, bringing our conversation to an abrupt end. I spend the rest of the day floating from room to room and replaying her words in my head. I imagine racing through the forest, the cold nipping at my cheeks and neck, and debate whether or not it’s worth it.
I’ve never been a fast runner, and I’d be even worse under pressure.
But Miss Deveroux is right.
It’s too good of an offer to brush off.
After finishing my first round of cleaning, I duck into Miss Deveroux’s office and leave the door ajar. My hands are trembling as I sink into the couch in the corner of the room and stare at the screen.
I’m on my third rewatch of the clip, my mind racing to come up with solutions, when the door creaks open.
I hastily toss the screen next to me and look up.
Mason is in the doorway in his usual pressed suit. The first few buttons of it are undone, and his sandy, tousled hair is gleaming. He glances from the screen to my face and back again.
“It’s not what it looks like.” A flush creeps up my neck and onto my cheeks. “Miss Deveroux just told me about the hunt, and I was curious.”
“I knew you would be.”
I frown. “It’s barbaric, and it’s rigged.”
“It’s also exhilarating and fun,” Mason counters. “I’ve seen the women who participate, and even when they lose—most of them do—it ends up working out for them.”
I dig my nails into my palms. “Because they get passed around like a prize?”
A smile tugs at Mason’s lips. “Because they get to be fucked by multiple men. Sometimes, all at once. Sometimes, a few of them watch, but for one night, they’re at the men’s mercy.”
My throat is very dry. “How is that a good thing?”
Mason stops in front of me, and his eyes sweep over me. “Because they get to stop pretending, and they surrender control.”
I lift my gaze to his and ignore the low buzzing in my ears. “That doesn’t sound like surrendering control. It sounds more like they’re being manipulated.”
Mason raises an eyebrow. “No one here is forced to do anything, London. I know it’s hard for you to accept that, but it’s the truth.”
“It’s not as black and white as you make it out to be.”
“And it’s not as horrifying as you’re pretending it is.” Mason’s voice drops an octave. “Watching that footage isn’t a good idea. You need to forget it.”
I narrow my eyes. “Because you don’t think I stand a chance? You don’t know me well enough to make that call.”
“I knew you well enough to know you’re as intrigued by the idea of being fucked as you are by being able to get out.”
“Fuck you, Mason.”
He covers the distance between us in an instant, and a flicker of fear snakes its way up my chest. “I told you what would happen if you don’t get that damn attitude of yours under control. Are you baiting me?”
I clasp my hands behind my back. “Only you would make that assumption.”
“I’m a patient man, London,” Mason says, “but I’m not a saint. If you keep pushing me, I will have to punish you at some point.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would,” Mason warns. “I don’t care if you want to participate in the hunt. You’re not fucking doing it.”
I search his face. “I thought everyone was allowed?”
“Everyone is,” Mason replies. “You aren’t, because I’d have to beat the shit out of any man who goes anywhere near you, and I’d rather not do that. I run a business, and I don’t want to lose clients.”
His words send a quiet thrill through me.
The thought of Mason coming to my rescue and mowing down anyone who gets in his way makes something deep within me tighten.
Shit.
Why can’t I get rid of this primal pull toward him?
Maybe you need to get it out of your system, for both of your sakes. It can’t hurt, right? He could go back to whatever he does, and you’d be free to focus on paying off the debt in peace.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I’m wracked with guilt and horrified.
I can’t just screw Mason and get on with my life.
He’s watching me intently, and his eyes move over me again, leaving a trail of heat in his wake that makes me feel exposed.
I don’t like the look in his eyes, and I definitely don’t like how it makes me feel.
“Not yet.” Mason’s whisper caresses my skin. “We’re getting closer.”
“Never,” I say, my voice rising. “Get out of my head.”
“Forget about the hunt, London. I’m the only one who’s going to fuck you, and when I do, you won’t be able to look at anyone else.”
“You arrogant son of a—”
Mason presses me against the wall, cutting off the rest of my sentence. He rubs himself against me, and all reason flies out the window.
His bulge is pressed against me, doing strange things to my insides.
Waves of desire build within me as Mason raises my arms over my head and holds them in a viselike grip.
What the hell is he doing?
And why am I letting him do it?
When I don’t protest, Mason rubs himself against my center, and a moan escapes my lips.
I squeeze my eyes shut and press my lips together.
He releases my hands, and my eyes fly open, watching as he creates space between us. “Stop testing my patience. You’re going to come to me willingly, and you are going to enjoy every goddamn minute of it.”
With that, he spins on his heel and exits the room, each step filled with confidence and ease.
I wait a while longer before I sink against the couch and bury my face in my hands.
Miss Deveroux finds me a while later, hands me a bottle of water, and offers me a pat on the back.
Then, she ushers me outside and hands me the cleaning supplies.
I spend the rest of the day buried in work and ignoring the ache between my legs.
There has to be a way for me to steer clear of Mason for the remainder of my sentence.
Mason fucking Payne is going to be the death of me.