Chapter Three
SKYLAR
Ican’t keep my eyes off him. I can’t stop gawking at him, my mind racing with images of his body beneath those thick layers that are keeping him warm. He’s handsome, charming, and he makes me feel comfortable.
Maybe that’s just it, I think, but I know it’s not true.
The more time I spend with him, the further my thoughts spiral out of control, and I can’t stop wanting this sexy older man.
I don’t even know why. It’s not as if he’s tried to flirt with me; he’s only being polite and kind, and trying to ease my troubles.
But, every passing second has me desperate to spend more time with him.
That’s why I drink my cocoa slowly and stretch out every story as long as I can. I let his hazel eyes, strong jawline, and perfect physique burn into my memory. This is just a meeting with a stranger in the mall, but I’m not going to forget it for as long as I live.
He only introduces himself, after my second cup of cocoa. I’d gotten so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even realize it until then; Mason Hanwell.
The name suits him perfectly. We spend the afternoon chatting, and I tell him about my year of hell; from the start, when my parents passed away, until last month, when the Mercers were killed.
He doesn’t look at me funny, and doesn’t judge; Mason only sits back and listens, letting me vent and get it all out.
I don’t even realize how badly I needed it, until I’m sitting in the coffee shop with him.
“And I guess that’s that. My year of hell. And now I’m stuck hiding in an apartment in the city, too scared to go to the mall because someone might try to reach out and grab me. I’ve been scared for so long,” I end.
“It sounds as if this world has been cruel to you,” Mason says softly.
“I’m sure it happens all the time; we just don’t see it, right?” I reply.
Mason had shed his coat as soon as we sat down, exposing the tight sweater beneath.
It clings to him. Stretching and straining against his firm body.
Nothing above the waist is left to the imagination.
My God, I can only imagine what the rest of him must look like.
My cheeks burn red at the thought of it, but the warmth radiating between my legs doesn’t help rid my head of naughty ideas about Mason.
“You’ve got a point there,” Mason shrugs, lifting his cup to his mouth. I can’t tell for sure, but it looks as if he’s flexing, showing off his strong arms. I want to lick my lips at the sight of those solid arms but stop myself, hoping he doesn’t notice.
Of course, he does. He hasn’t broken eye contact with me since we sat down and it’s so terribly attractive.
People don’t maintain eye contact like that these days.
Usually, they give you a few glances and then they look away.
This man hasn’t stopped and God, it’s so charming.
A smirk tugs at the corner of Mason’s lips, and my cheeks become an inferno.
“Would you look at the time?” Mason asks, checking his watch. My heart sinks at his words. He’s probably going to say he needs to go home to a wife and kids, and I don’t want to hear it. I’m jealous that I’m not the one he’s going to spend the night with.
“Do you need to head out?” I ask, unable to hide the disappointment in my voice.
“Head out? No, not at all. It’s just nearing dinner time, so how about we take this party from the coffee shop to a restaurant?” Mason asks, and my heart skips a beat in excitement.
“Yes,” the word leaves my lips without reflection. “I mean, if I’m not imposing or anything. If you’ve gotta go, I’ll understand.”
“I’ve got nowhere to go,” Mason shakes his head. “Not until I know you’re feeling all better.”
Those words make me excruciatingly wet, so much so that I can’t help but slide the hand resting on my thigh over my pussy, just once, desperate for some relief. I suppress the moan, but bite my lip.
Fuck, he saw it again, didn’t he?
At least I know it’s not going to be another night of bitter loneliness.
***
We go for dinner at a steakhouse in the mall.
While Mason licks his lips at the steak on his plate, I lick mine at the thought of him.
Since my parents’ passing, I haven’t gotten out much.
I have no interest in going out or seeing people, especially not guys my age – more boys than men.
They use you, hurt you, and toss you aside as if you are a piece of meat.
Maybe that’s why Mason takes my fancy, so quickly. Maybe that is the reason I can’t stop thinking about him taking me. I am getting more nervous as the night goes on. He is a real man, confident and experienced.
If anyone deserved me, it’s him.
“So, what’s running around in that head of yours, Skylar?” Mason asks. I must have gotten so lost in my thoughts of Mason that I didn’t even realize how long I’d been quiet.
“Uhh,” I sputter, put on the spot. Can I be so bold as to tell him the truth? That my mind is racing with thoughts of him. If I do, would he be against it or for it? Did it even really matter? Before I can stop myself, I slide next to Mason in his booth seat, in a sudden yet lazy movement.
“I hope you don’t mind,” I say, brushing myself up against him. There’s no way of stopping it. My body’s doing its own thing, pulling me closer to Mason in any way it can.
“I don’t mind at all,” Mason replies. “If it were up to me, I’d have you on my lap.”
I wasn’t expecting him to say that. My heart pounds in my ears, and I start breathing nervously. Does he feel the same way I do? I suppose it wouldn’t take a genius to figure it out, with the way I’m gawking at him.
“You would?” I ask, my voice meek.
“Anyone would. You’re perfect,” Mason turns to look at me, properly. His eyes dart from mine to my tits and back again. We had a few drinks with dinner, so I’m guessing that’s what’s loosened us up.
I’m definitely not complaining. The more time I spend with Mason Hanwell, the more intrigued I am with him. He’s older, handsome, and the kind of man that could give me a spanking that I’d enjoy.
Looking down, I can see the bulge in his pants. It’s flexing and straining against the material, just like his arms in the tight sweater he’s wearing.
“Is that… for me?” I ask, running a hand up Mason’s thigh, and grazing it against the thick outline beneath the fabric.
A groan escapes his lips; it’s almost loud enough that someone might hear.
“It is,” he replies. “It’s all fucking yours if you want it.”
“What if I said I wanted it right now?”
“I’ll take it out and fuck you on this table. To hell with the consequences,” Mason replies.
“Who says I’m going to let you fuck me?” I ask, grabbing his dick through his pants.
Mason jerks beneath my touch, sucking in a sharp breath.
“What if I told you to take it out and play with yourself? Let me and everyone in here watch?” I have no idea what’s come over me.
I’ve never been like this, bossing a man around, especially a man like him.
He’s strong, he’s massive... He shouldn’t do as I say.
Mason doesn’t reply, until I let go of him.
“Then I’d do as commanded,” Mason says finally. He’s panting, and I let him catch his breath. When he finally looks ready, I get up and lean close, to whisper in his ear. “You want to know what I’m thinking about?”
“More than you could ever imagine,” Mason replies.
“I’m thinking about how much fun it would be to watch you squirm and scream when I deny you satisfaction,” I drop back into the chair, looking up at him with a grin.
“You want to order me around?” he cocks a brow.
I suddenly feel as if I’ve gone too far. I sit upright again, looking away from Mason nervously. “Ye… yes. I mean, if you—“
Before I can finish that sentence, I see Mason’s breathing go staggered. He’s not put off by the idea; he’s embracing it.
“I don’t want to,” I say, trying to get back to the confident self I was a second ago. “I’m going to.”
“Your wish is my command,” Mason replies.