He drops his head. “No, and I feel like a dick for it.”
“Don’t. I had to poke it out of her. She feels like she can’t, with your dad being—”
“I know.”
“Mase you could help her, be there when she can’t.”
“Nina, he is sixty-two years old. He shouldn’t need babysitting.”
“No. You’re right. But if it’s peace of mind for your sister whilst she studies, surely that’s enough of a reason to do it anyway?”
He looks at me with a glare but has absolutely nothing to say. “I’m glad we agree.” I smile, rolling my lips. “Thank you for bringing me tonight. I really did have a great time.”
“Yeah?”
I nod, leaning in and giving him a soft kiss.
“Hmmm, just you wait till I get you home, angel.”
15
Nina
Mase insistedwe stay at his place tonight so that we would have more time in the morning before we have to go to work, and I couldn’t argue with his logic. And the idea of more orgasms.
That’s just a bonus.
We stop off at my apartment so I can get my dance clothes for tomorrow. Again, his idea to give us more time in bed in the morning. I grab my tights, cami and trainers, and then drop down at my bedside to get some underwear. As I search for my comfy boy shorts (they are all I can dance in), my black suspender belt catches my eye.
I’ve never worn the set. It was something bought years ago on sale when shopping with the girls. They totally talked me into it.
A buzz of excitement rushes through me at the thought of surprising Mason.
I quickly strip down and slide on the panties and bra, pulling the suspender belt over the top to my waist. I look in the mirror and my eyes widen.
It looks good. The lace shows just a glimpse of my tan skin beneath it—enough to drive him wild. I’ve never been into lingerie like some women are, but I must say I feel fantastic. I wonder if Mason has had women dress up like this before. My shoulders sag. Of course he has, stupid.
My phone starts to ring in my bag, and I grab it.
Bossman
“You changed your name in my phone?” I laugh.
“What’s taking you so long?”
“Have some patience.”
“No, I’m coming up if you’re not out that door in the next thirty seconds.”
“That’s unrealistic, give me two minutes.” I hang up, then grab my all-in-one up off the floor.
I get dressed, stuff my clothes into my bag, and then hop to the door as I try to get my heels back on. Just as I swing open the door, Mr Impatient raps his knuckles on the wood surround.
I drop my head to the side. “I was coming.”
“Not quick enough,” he says, far too serious.
“You need to loosen up.” I smirk, knowing exactly how I want to christen my new underwear.
