Chapter 5
Mason
The heat punched me in the face the second I stepped out of the airport. Thick, wet, relentless. Like breathing through a damp towel. My lungs protested before my brain caught up.
I’d played hockey in Miami before, but never in the summer. This was different. The sun pressed down like it had a grudge, and by the time I reached the rental car, my shirt was already sticking to me.
How did people live like this?
“Welcome to Hades,” I muttered, tugging my cap lower.
Driving didn’t help. Traffic surged and stalled with zero logic, music thumping from open windows, palm trees blurring past glass towers, pedestrians darting into the street like they had nothing to lose. The GPS rerouted me again. Construction.
By the time I reached the high-rise, my patience was thin.
Wrestling two suitcases, a garment bag, and a carry-on out of the car in a sweltering parking deck felt less like unpacking and more like punishment.
I hauled everything into the elevator and leaned back against the wall, sweat dripping, jaw tight.
At least the key fob worked. Floor 10.
If the AC wasn’t blasting, I was turning around and going back to Canada.
I found the door to my condo fast and didn’t hesitate. The sooner I got inside, the sooner I could breathe again.
A deep breath steadied me. This was it, my new home, at least for now.
The moment I swung the door open, I stopped dead in my tracks.
“What. The. Fuck.”
The decor hit me like a slapshot to the face. Bears, moose, pine trees. It was as if someone had raided the cheesiest cabin gift shop in existence.
A plush bear rug lay sprawled across the floor, its glass eyes glaring up at me. Nearby, a lamp shaped like a tree stump tried to pass as art. Across the room, a couch drowned in plaid pillows leaned against a wall that might’ve been plywood if it weren’t for the faux-log paneling.
“Gideon, I’m going to kill you,” I muttered, dropping my bags.
I wandered into the living room, mouth hanging open. The only saving grace was the view. Floor-to-ceiling windows opened onto Biscayne Bay, a showpiece of shimmering water, palm trees, and ocean breeze. The contrast made the horror show inside look even crazier.
I rubbed my face, trying to process the disaster before me. At least the place was clean and new. And the kitchen... Okay, the kitchen was actually decent, if you ignored the pine cone cabinet pulls and the “Live, Laugh, Loon” sign over the sink.
I shook my head and let a reluctant smile tease my lips. Damn it. I had to admit it. When Gideon committed to a bit, he went for broke.
I pulled out my phone, thumb hovering over his contact name. I could already taste the rant I owed him about this decor disaster. But I was filthy and sticky from travel. Shower first. Then I’d rip Gid a new one.
“You’re gonna pay for this, Giddy,” I promised the empty room, shaking my head as I imagined his smug, unapologetic laughter.
I headed down the hall toward what I assumed must be the master bedroom.
Poking my head into the first door, I was relieved to find a tastefully decorated guest room.
At least one room escaped whatever disaster had overtaken the rest of the condo.
I shuddered to think what fresh hell awaited me in the master bedroom, probably a giant taxidermied moose head looming over the bed, its glassy eyes boring into my soul as I tried to sleep.
The door at the end of the hall stood slightly ajar. Bracing myself for whatever monstrosity waited inside, I nudged it open.
I stalled in the doorway.
“Holy shit.”
The words slipped out on a breath as my brain short-circuited and my body refused to take another step.
A blonde woman was sprawled out on the king-size bed, her skirt hiked up to her waist, pink lace panties on full display.
Her golden hair spilled over the pillows, soft and tousled like she’d just rolled out of a dream you never wanted to wake up from.
She had curves for days, the kind that weren’t just sexy but downright dangerous.
Her lips parted on a breathy whimper as her hand drifted down her belly, fingers grazing the lace at the apex of her thighs.
She looked like a fantasy. All long legs and bare skin, lips parted, eyes hazy and unfocused. My body locked up. I couldn’t move. Hell, I could barely breathe.
My heart slammed against my ribs, every nerve in my body snapping awake. I gaped like a fool, rock hard, tongue thick and useless.
“Jesus.”
I should’ve backed out. I should’ve shut the door and walked away.
But damn, she was gorgeous, and the slow slide of her hand down her belly held me there, thought draining out of my head.
Then her finger slipped beneath the lace, a soft moan spilling from her lips, and whatever sense I had left vanished.
“Fuck,” I groaned under my breath.
Her chest heaved, and her breathing grew ragged as she plunged a finger inside herself. Her breasts lifted as she arched her back, hardened nipples pressing tight against the thin fabric of her blouse. I clenched my fists, desperate to join her.
I couldn’t keep watching. I had to stop this.
“Ahem.” I cleared my throat loudly.
The woman jerked. Her eyes snapped up, wild and frightened. Her hair was a tousled mess, and there was a breathless panic at getting caught, and damn, the sight did things to me.
She stammered out a ridiculous excuse, her blue eyes barely meeting mine. “Oh! I, um... I was just...” She gestured vaguely at the bed. “Testing the equipment. You know, for safety reasons.”
I blinked, stunned into silence. Was she serious? And holy hell, was she gorgeous. All long legs and golden hair, with the kind of curves that made a man forget how to speak. Which explained my current predicament.
Finally, I found my voice. “Is that so?”
“Uh, yeah, I was... finishing up some last touches.” A deep crimson color bloomed on her face.
Last touches. In my bed.
“Touches,” I said under my breath, willing my traitorous body to calm down. “I noticed.”
“Are you from the interior-decorating company?” I asked, trying to make sense of the situation.
“Y-yes. I’m Lila. From Samantha Grace Interiors.” She stumbled over her words, panic lacing each syllable. “I didn’t expect you to be here for a few days. I was just doing a final walkthrough, making sure everything was perfect.”
“Right.” I barely heard myself as I tore my eyes from her and let my gaze drift around the room. The decor was a mess: tacky, over-the-top, and more porn-set than penthouse. What the hell had Gideon done to this place?
“There’s a stripper pole,” I said flatly.
She swallowed hard. “Uh, y-yes.” She stepped toward the pole and gave it a firm tug. “See? It’s solid... and ready for action.” Her eyes widened as she realized what she’d just said.
“Uh-huh,” I growled, stepping deeper into the room. A disco ball hung from the ceiling, catching the daylight that leaked past the blinds. “And the disco ball?”
She recovered slightly. “Here, let me show you.” She picked up the remote and pressed a button. The disco ball spun to life, scattering dizzying flecks of light across the room.
“The motorized blinds block out all natural light,” she explained, flipping another switch. The room cut to black before she clicked again, and the blinds lifted. “And you can customize the LED mood lighting to suit any... atmosphere.”
A swirl of colors danced along the walls: deep reds, sultry purples, provocative pinks. I shook my head, half amused, half horrified. This was spectacularly ridiculous.
“And the... mirrors above the bed? The restraints?”
Lila looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt. “Yes, I tested them myself to make sure they were sturdy and... I mean, everything is top quality. Built to last.”
Heat rushed to my dick as I pictured her “testing” those out. It was going to take more than a cold shower to get that image out of my head.
“Very… interesting,” I muttered, scanning the room. My gaze landed on a wall covered in larger-than-life photos.
Of me.
Nearly naked.
From that damn Apex underwear shoot Gideon had tricked me into.
Christ almighty. Gideon was a dead man walking.
I cringed at the sight of my bulge immortalized in high resolution. Some of the images I’d never even seen before, artistic shots of my mostly naked body up close and personal. I opened my mouth, then closed it again. What the hell was I supposed to say to that?
Lila followed my gaze and giggled. “You certainly have excellent taste in men,” she said, her voice lilting with appreciation. “That guy is gorgeous. I’ve been drooling over him ever since you sent me the photos. Those rock-hard abs. That... package. Spectacular.”
“Uh, thanks?” I managed.
Realization slammed into me like a freight train. She had no idea who I was. With my offseason beard and a T-shirt on, I hardly resembled the guy in those photos. She thought I was Gideon. And that I was into men.
I clenched my fists, already imagining what I’d do to that smug, stylish bastard the next time I saw him.
My gaze swept across the bedroom, surveying the decor that would make a porn star blush. My eyes darted from the mirrored ceiling to Lila’s radiant face, then back to the restraints that still sat on the bed like an invitation. I felt a familiar stirring and quickly tamped it down.
Lila glanced at me nervously. The silence between us stretched just long enough to feel awkward. “You’re awfully quiet. What do you think?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Just... taking it all in.”
Her face brightened. “Oh! Before I forget, the special item you requested came in.”
Special item? What special—
She started rambling about shipping delays, but I barely registered it.
I was too busy staring at her. Long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, and those blue eyes.
.. damn. She was stunning. I pictured her tied to the bed, wrists caught in those restraints, arching beneath me as she moaned my name…
Get it together, Callahan.
I clenched my jaw, forcing down the desire that roared to life inside me. After the Vanessa fiasco, the last thing I needed was another complication. I’d been in Miami for five minutes. I needed to focus on proving myself to my new team, not getting distracted by the first gorgeous woman I saw.
“I present to you... the Mist-a-Dick!” Lila announced, dragging me back to the moment.
“The Mr. Dick?” I echoed, stunned. I felt a laugh bubble up despite myself. Was Gid out of his damn mind?
“Mist-a-Dick.” She motioned toward the nightstand like a game show host. There sat a rubber monstrosity glowing purple, veins and all.
“It’s programmable! I set it to spurt every six hours, but you can change the settings.
And look—” She pressed a button at its base.
The thing lit up with a purple glow. “It comes with different scent cartridges. I wasn’t sure which one you’d like, so I ordered them all. ”
My jaw nearly hit the floor. “Scent cartridges?”
“Mm-hmm! Sandalwood, lavender, semen...” She trailed off, wringing her hands and looking anywhere but at me. “I put in vanilla for now... it’s in the uh… balls.”
“Vanilla in the balls,” I repeated, dazed. This was unbelievable.
“Watch.” She pressed another button. The thing jiggled, inflated to double its size, then puffed out a sweet cloud of vanilla mist. I stood there, astounded.
“Jesus.”
She grinned impishly. “I didn’t know stuff like this even existed until you sent me that website link. You should see my inbox now—eye-opening doesn’t begin to cover it.” She fanned herself in mock scandal.
“I bet,” I said, still staring at the absurd display. The room, the Mist-a-Dick, Lila looking like a goddess while casually discussing fake dick aromas. It was too much.
She shifted, wringing her hands. “So, um... is the room not what you were expecting?” Her blue eyes darted around the bedroom.
“I can make any changes you need. Swap out the bedding? Different color scheme? Change up some of the... equipment?” Her voice trailed off as she followed my gaze to a shelf stocked with whips and paddles.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Stay calm. It’s not her fault. “I appreciate the effort, but yeah, there will need to be changes.”
Her smile faltered. “Right. Of course. I’m sorry. I should’ve double-checked the specifications.” She bit her lip and damn near undid me.
Guilt tugged at me, but I needed a real bedroom.
Not whatever the hell this was supposed to be.
I ushered her toward the door, eager to end this nightmare of an interior design reveal.
“I expect you to be available to meet with me soon to discuss it further.” My voice sounded harsher than I intended.
She straightened, her tone all business again. “Absolutely. I’ll clear my schedule.”
“Thank you. I’ll be in touch. Please see yourself out.” I watched her retreat, then closed the door behind her perky ass.
Then, I pulled out my phone and fired off a text:
Me: You’re a dead man, Gid. Watch your back, because payback’s coming.
I tossed the phone onto the bed.
Some kind of kink-themed bedroom. In my home. Oh, Giddy was going to pay dearly for this one.
My gaze landed on a leather whip mounted on the wall. Despite myself, I let out a low chuckle. At least Gideon kept things interesting.
As if on cue, the Mist-a-Dick inflated and then released a slow, sensual puff of vanilla-scented mist.
Fuck me.