The shrill sound of my doorbell has me freezing in the shower mid hair wash. I’m not usually a jumpy person, but it’s always in the shower that my apartment seems to come to life. I start to wash the shampoo from my hair double time, the bell ringing again, more violently than the first time. Not bothering to use any conditioner, I snatch my towel from the floor and wrap it around my body before I rush from the bathroom, my feet leaving puddles in their wake.
I pull open the door just an inch to see who it is.
A delivery man is standing with a long rectangular box in his hand. He thrusts it through the small gap in a rush, making the door bounce back into my forehead.
Ouch!
“Can you sign here?” he huffs.
I try to hold my towel, the box and the pen, but it’s a task. I’m sure by the time I kick the door closed, he has probably seen my nipple. Not that the impatient jerk deserved the extra tip, he could see I was fresh from the shower.
Pulling my towel tight, I scurry to the sofa and sit down with the box. It’s matte black with gold foiling decorating it in deep swirls. Sliding off the lid, I find a single white rose nestled in the silk lining. I can’t help my smile. It’s a goofy, all-teeth kind of smile that you hope no one ever sees.
One lone rose.
It’s beautiful in its simplicity, and I knowexactlywho it’s from. Slipping the note from the box, I stare at it.
It’s from Mason, I’m sure of it. But something nags at my gut as I peel back the seal.
Still, excitement flares through me as I slide out the card.
You want my manners?
I want your taste.
On my tongue, my cock, everywhere.
Please.
Excitement turns to shock as a wave of arousal sweeps over me, catching me off guard. I sit and stare at his words, rereading them until they don’t make sense anymore.
I was expecting something sweet to go with the beautiful gift. I was not expecting this. Grasping the pillow at my side, I begin to fan myself, thoughts of Mason andhistaste—that I’ve already stolen—causing my body to heat.
I am so flipping turned on it’s ridiculous.
He would have known what his words would do to me, and I’m not sad about it. He’s had me eating out of the palm of his hands on every encounter so far.
I take his note with me to my room. The rose long forgotten.
Lying back on my bed, I let the promise in his words and the gentle touch of my fingers find the release my body desperately craves.
Mase
Elliot
Come here
I frown at my phone, wondering what the hell Elliot wants. It’s Friday and his day off.
Where?
My office
What? Is he in today? I push my chair back from my desk, striding to the door. The reception area is empty, and Alice stands the second she sees me, her back ramrod straight.
“Is Montgomery in today?” I ask.
She nods. “Yes, he got in at around ten. Can I get you anything, Mason?”
