Chapter 40 – King
Chapter
Forty
KING
Ianswer Mason’s call wearing the same smile I have on my face anytime I hear his voice. But nobody in this diner knows who I am or who I’m on the phone with, so I allow myself the simple pleasure of being openly pleased to hear from him.
“We have plans tonight, Hotshot,” he says.
“We do?”
“That date that’s not a date you asked for.”
My smile grows wider. “Oh, yeah?”
“Pack an overnight bag and meet me in my office at seven.”
Now I’m all kinds of intrigued. “Can I get a clue as to where we’re going?”
“Somewhere nobody will look twice at us.”
“At least tell me what I should wear.”
He hums softly. “Smart casual. I have to run. See you at seven.”
He ends the call, leaving me wondering what the hell smart casual consists of in Mason James’s world.
The waitress smiles and flutters her eyelashes at me.
Fuck, I’m grinning like an idiot. Because I’m going on a date with Mason James.
It’s like I’m sixteen again, about to go meet this really hot guy who makes my stomach do a fluttery kind of thing that it’s never done before.
Mason is waiting for me when I get to his office, with his overnight bag slung over his shoulder. He’s wearing a dress shirt—the sleeves rolled up, showing off his toned forearms—and dress slacks. I’m glad I opted for similar attire.
“So, where are we going?” I ask him.
He smirks. “To the roof.” He brushes past me and heads for the elevator. “You ever been in a helicopter before?”
I fall into step beside him. “Plenty of times.”
He chuckles. “Good to know.”
“Someone’s flying us somewhere?”
He flashes me a cheeky wink. “Not someone. I’m flying us somewhere.”
Will a single day go by without this guy surprising the hell out of me? “You can fly a helicopter?”
He winks at me. “I think you’ll find there’s no end to my talents, King.”
Cocky fuck. There are a few employees working late, and that’s the only thing stopping me from pinning him to the wall and sampling a few of those talents right now.
Mason is a skilled pilot. He’s all serious business while he flies, and it doesn’t take long for the twinkling lights of Atlantic City to come into view.
“We’re going to Atlantic City?” I ask, peering out the window.
“Yup. Close enough to get there fast; far enough away for nobody to know us, and full of people too busy having fun to notice us even if they did. Seemed like the perfect place.”
I can’t argue with that. It’s a perfect date that’s not a date.
There’s a concierge waiting at the helipad on the top of the hotel when we land.
He greets Mason by name before handing him a room key.
My stomach is bubbling with nervous excitement as he leads me toward the presidential suite.
He’s obviously been here before, but I don’t dwell on that.
I’m in Atlantic City with Mason, in one of the best casinos on the strip.
He drops his bag on the floor while I check out the suite, which is bigger than my apartment. He walks up behind me while I stare out at the incredible view of the ocean through the floor-to-ceiling window. “Would you look at that,” I say, pointing at the incredible sight before me.
He runs his nose along the back of my neck and his hand over my ass. “I’m too busy admiring you to bother looking at the ocean,” he says in a husky voice. “And I think it might be a good idea for us to get out of this hotel room before we end up not leaving it at all.”
I spin around and grab his hips, tugging him closer. When I run my hand across his zipper, I find him already hard. “That doesn’t sound like the worst idea.”
His grin is wicked and wolfish, and I want to devour him. “We have all night. Would be a shame not to check out the casino, at least.”
“I guess. What’s the point of having a billionaire boyfriend if not to have him fly you to Atlantic City in his own private helicopter and watch him blow some of his fortune in a casino?”
He laughs darkly and grazes his lips over mine. “Oh, babe. I never lose.”