“How long have you been in London?” he asks with genuine interest.
“Since university. I moved here with Lucy in my first year. I lived with the girls for a while after that, but when I eventually opened the studio, I found myself a little place on my own so that I could be closer.”
“The girls?” he asks, circling his thumbs over my hip bones.
“Lucy, you met her tonight and Megan, my two best friends. We shared a two-bed for four years whilst we studied and then found our feet after. Took turns on the futon.” I grin as the memories of our uni days flash in my mind.
“They didn’t want to move with you?”
“What? To my one bed, one bathroom.” I laugh, pushing back on his chest as I look around at the dark grey units. “This place is beautiful, although I’d say my apartment is a little cosier.”
He studies the room around him as if trying to see it from my eyes.
“What do you do for a living?” I ask. “Where does all of this come from?”
“Once upon a time. My parents. We’ve tripled our fathers’ empire in the last five years,” he declares, his own pride shining through.
“You’re close with your parents?”
His beautiful face drops, making me regret my question. “I used to be with my dad. My mum died when I was four years old.” His reply comes out robotic, expressionless, like he’s already zoned out.
I run my fingers through the hair at the base of his neck, sensing he needs the physical touch.
“I’m so sorry, Mason.”
“Please. Don’t.” His eyes bore into mine, adrenaline coursing through my veins as he pins me with his stare. Slowly, he lowers his mouth to mine, coaxing my lips into a kiss so urgent it sets my body aflame.
Grasping the backs of my knees, he pulls me, so I’m sitting on the edge of the worktop, our bodies perfectly aligned. I feel his hard cock against my centre. He rolls his hips, and a shudder runs through me. His groan vibrates against my lips, and I feel it, all the way down there.
Our kiss turns desperate.
He pulls back as he bites my lip, making me moan out loud. I don’t let him go, though, my lips finding their way instinctively back to his, but he quickly forces us apart again.
“Fuck!” he yells, running his hands through his hair.
I smile up at him as he tries to compose himself. Annoyance at his lack of control evident in his stance.
“Bed. Now. You need to sleep,” he stresses.
“Youneed me to sleep more like… You just want me sober, don’t you, Bossman.”
He shakes his head, hands on hips.
“Where am I to sleep, Mr. Mason?” I ask cheekily, hopping down from the kitchen island.
“Where the fuck do you think, Pixie?”
“Pixie?” I frown. Mason is in on this too?
His face grows serious as if he has just realised what he’s said. Not wanting to kill the mood, I take off on a run from the kitchen, searching for the stairs. I can hear him close behind me, and I flick my head around as I hit the first step, spotting him rounding the corner. My breath catches with the excitement that lives in his eyes. I see him smile, and then everything goes dark.
I pause mid-step, my heart hammering in my chest. Hands dust my waist as warm lips find my ear. If I didn’t already know, the sheer strength and dominance in the body at my back would tell me it’s Mason.
I can smell him, feel him, taste him on my lips.
“Too late now, angel.” He uses his body to move mine forward, and as we reach the top step, he bends, lifting me over his shoulder.
“Wait!” I squeal.
