Chapter 18 #2
“It’s good, I couldn’t imagine doing anything else, and it’s a bonus I can do it with Montgomery. The houses we sell are always next-level architecturally, listed properties or have something to them. It’s easy to sell something you love.”
I sip my wine, smiling at his confession. I like this game. “Tell me more.”
“I’m allergic to dogs,” he blurts out, his words suddenly flowing from him like a broken tap. “Just being in the same room as one sets me off. My eyes get red and itchy, and my face gets puffy. It’s awful.” He looks at me, his face dropping. “What?”
“Dogs. You’re allergic to dogs?”
“Yep. Hate the things.”
“What?!”
“I’m allergic to dogs,” he says, looking at me like I am crazy.
“I heard you. Crap!” He laughs at my dramatics. “Fucking plot twist! This is it. This is your thing.”
“My thing?”
“Yes. The thing that makes you imperfect. You have it all, the looks, the money, the life.” The heart.
“All but the dog. Damn it, is it too late to turn the plane around?” I stand, stepping past him as I playfully go to leave, but his arms wrap around me, pulling me down onto his lap. It has me laughing into his chest.
“You want a dog?” he mumbles into my neck.
I pull back so I can see his face. “Well I did,” I say, rolling my eyes.
His eyes flick all over my face, and I wonder what he finds so fascinating. “I haven’t found it yet,” he tells me.
“Found what?”
“Your imperfection. And I’m pretty sure there isn’t one.”
Mase
We stumble through the suite door, not bothering to look around the room before we hit the deck.
“Let me take you to the bedroom,” I moan as she dips her hand past my waistband, freeing me from my trousers.
“Later,” she pants.
Not needing to be told twice, I smother her lips, strip her tights from her legs and slip the thin material of her lacy underwear to the side. I glide my knuckle through her slick flesh.
“Fuck!”
“Mase,” she begs, grinding her hips forward to find friction.
I line myself up and slide into her, dropping my head to her shoulder as she struggles to take me fully.
Her warmth surrounds me, pulling me in and squeezing with every tremor.
This fucking woman.
“Move! Please, move.”
“Stop. Talking.” I grind out, fighting to keep my control.
I should have taken her on the plane instead of being a greedy prick. The wait has us both riled up. I roll my hips and she cries out, but I’m too far gone to turn back.
I flip her to her knees, sinking myself back to the hilt. I squeeze the two full globes of her ass, watching as her cunt struggles to take me.
“Oh god, Mason!”
I grasp the back of her neck and push her to the ground, my other hand clenched against her hip and keeping her glued to me. My hand slips around to her throat, my teeth trailing along her ear. “Squeeze me.”
She ripples around me, and I don’t move, letting her do the work for me—and fuck does she work for it.
Clenching herself around me relentlessly until I’m on the edge of insanity, and the grip on her throat becomes too tight.
She bucks back into me and I drop her, letting her fall to the floor.
Rolling her over, I bend, placing kisses up her body and over her partly exposed tits—it’s all I could manage in our haste.
I keep going. Up her neck, across her jaw, sliding back into her heat as I reach her lips.
“Am I too rough, baby?” I murmur, brushing her throat with the back of my hand.
Her eyes darken. “Not nearly enough, Bossman.”
My cock turns to steel inside her.
She meets my every thrust, every roll of my hips, every swipe of my tongue. Each and every one met with her own need. Our bodies move as one until it’s too much and we fall over the edge together, deep into the abyss.
Nina
It’s dawn when I wake, and my stomach churns with the need for food. We skipped tea last night, choosing to hole up in the room—mostly naked—instead.
Mason lies on his back, one arm behind his head and the other covering the crown jewels. His powerful body laid bare for my hungry eyes.
He couldn’t be gentle with me last night. As much as he would try, it always ended up the same way it started.
His need for me uncontrollable, but mine just as insatiable.
I’ve never had as many orgasms as I did last night, and I know I need more sleep after such a late night, but I can’t sleep when I’m this hungry.
I pull back the covers and tiptoe to the door, stepping out and into the suite. We are on the seventh floor of The Four Seasons Hotel, and after our less than classy entrance, I finally get to survey the beauty that is the Eiffel Tower suite.
Naive maybe, but I expected a room—just one—a bathroom and perhaps a pokey little window that I pictured hanging out of with Mason at my back. Cute, boutiquey, Paris kind of vibes.
This isn’t that.
Everything about it is luxurious with high ceilings, fresh white walls, and cream and soft beige furnishings.
Everything complements something else in the room.
Like the two windows that look out over the city, both wide and the size of the wall, yet dressed with thick velvet drapes, showcasing the stunning view.
White flowers are placed in vases and cover nearly every surface, the smell caressing me like a fresh summer’s day.
I step past the sectional sofas and towards the bow window that looks over the terrace. It extends from the room, offering panoramic views over the iconic tower.
“Wow.”
This place is… incredible.
Too much? A little. But he is too much, and I only want more of him.
I search the suite for the room service menu, then fall back to the plush cream sofa. I don’t know much French so it’s hard to navigate what I’m reading, but I think I spot avocado, and I know crepes are pancakes, but I would be devastated right now if I didn’t like what I ordered.
I’m nervous when the dial tone starts.
“Bonjour, comment puis-je vous aider?”
Shit, I should’ve waited for Mase. “Uh Bonjour, roomy servicce?” I say in a French accent, my hand snapping up to my forehead.
This is mortifying.
“Of course, Madam. What can I get for you?”
“Uh, du croissant?” I squirm, wondering if I have gotten that right.
“Two croissants. Would you like any coffee?” she asks.
“Oui, merci. Uh, uno sugarr.” I don’t know if Mason will have sugar, but I should get some just in case.
He’d probably say something cocky like, ‘I have some sugar here for you, Pix.’
“There’s sugar in your room, Mrs Lowell. Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“No, uh, merci.” I frown, Mrs Lowell? “Wait. Are you English?”
Realisation dawns on me as I replay the conversation in my head.
She giggles into the phone. “Australian, you did great, by the way.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Oh, wow, how embarrassing.”
“Not at all, it’s refreshing that you gave it a shot. We get a lot of orders in many languages, and not many take the time to give the native language a go.”
“I didn’t even want a croissant. I just didn’t know how to ask for anything else.” I laugh.
“Well, that just won’t do. What is it you would like, Mrs Lowell?”
“It’s Anderson. My name, it’s Nina Anderson.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. It must be an error. I will correct that on the system.”
“It’s fine, honestly. But I’d kill for some eggs, scrambled, on toast.” I ask cheekily.
“Absolutely, and so you know, all of the concierges are bilingual; it’s part of the job. Just let us know what you’d like, and we will happily help you.”
“Thank you so much. Sorry again about my horrific French.”
“You’re most welcome. Breakfast will be with you shortly. Enjoy Paris, Miss Anderson.”
“I will.”
I am. Because of him. And scrambled eggs on toast.
An hour later I crawl back into bed, my belly full and my eyes tired. Pulling at Mason’s arm, I slip in under the sheets, letting him pull me back and into his warmth.
“Where have you been?” he asks, kissing my neck.
“I was hungry. I got you a croissant.” I smile to myself.
“Hmm, I was going to take you out for breakfast.”
“You still can, it’s early yet.”
“Good. We can work off that croissant and then go for round two,” he says, rolling me to my back and hovering above me.
“I had eggs.” I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to stop my smile.
“Eggs? And I got a measly croissant?” He nips at my ear, playfully.
“You were asleep. It would have gone cold.”
“Right, let’s work off those eggs, then we are going to feed me. My Pixie is an impatient little devil.”
I laugh into his neck as he pins me to the mattress.
Mase
I chuckle to myself as Nina bounces over to the elderly couple at the nearby benches. They smile up at her as she speaks to them, and her infectious personality has them warming to her instantly. The elderly gent stands, taking the camera from Nina just as I make it over to her.
“Come on, I want to get the whole tower in the picture,” she says, pulling me in the opposite direction to where I was headed.
She hasn’t stopped all day. We’ve been to the Louvre, the Triomphe and now the Eiffel Tower. She didn’t want to stop for lunch, but I made her, promising to come back again soon so we can see more of the city.
Once she finds the perfect spot, she plants herself in front of me, beaming at the man just a few feet away who holds my camera in his wrinkled hands. I wrap my arms around her waist, hugging her to me, then direct a rare smile at the camera.
She looks up at me, a dimple forming on her cheek. It gives me pause. So many thoughts whirl through my mind, but what I have in my pocket is at the forefront.
Nina frowns as she searches my eyes. “What is it?”
The world around us creeps into the moment, stealing her attention as the crowds of people on the green start cheering and whistling. I look up from Nina, scanning the area until I see them.
“Oh, Mase! He just proposed, how romantic. Woooo, congratulations!” she shouts, cupping her mouth with both hands.
I shake my head, laughing as I lean in to kiss her neck.
Now is definitely not the time.
“Thank you so much!” Nina exclaims, running to retrieve the camera.
She starts to snap photos of me as I approach her, and I shove my hands in my pockets, squeezing the rounded edge.
“Stop that. I will have a million photos of myself at this rate.” I pull her to me by the camera strap that hangs around her neck, dropping my lips to hers. I suck her bottom lip into my mouth and then pull away.
“Where to next?”
“Notre Dame!” she squeals, grabbing my hand.
“Nina, wake up.”
“No,” she groans, her nose twitching.
I grin, pulling the covers from her body. “I’m taking you out tonight. Up!”
“Maaaseee.” She reaches for me—or maybe the covers. “Please, I’ve had the most incredible time. Let’s order in; I’m so tired.”
“It’s already planned, table is booked and it’s a big fucking favour. You want to get up, baby.”
Her eyes pinch in at the sides as she glares up at me. “How long do I have to get ready?”
“An hour.”
She smirks, then rolls out of bed completely naked, disappearing into the en suite.
I drop to the bed, smug, knowing I will be getting laid tonight.