I hear Vinny tut in the front seat, obviously a lot fucking smarter than his boss. “Vinny, take me back to the studio, please.”
Mason’s head snaps between us. “What now?”
I stare out the window, not wanting to speak or look at him when he can so easily cut me with his words. He came to me last Friday at the club, not the other way around. He came to me at the studio this week, and he came to the café today. For him to sit and judge me on my actions is infuriating.
Wait.
I whip my head around to face him. “How did you know where I was?”
He averts his eyes to the front of the car, it’s quick, but I don’t miss it. I look to Vinny, but his eyes are focused on the road.
“You followed me?” I shout.
“Vinny was in the area and saw you, then notified me,” Mason says dismissively as if it isn’t weird.
“Why? Why would he do that?” I frown.
Mason sighs, running his hand through his hair. “Because I asked him to,” he mutters, his head dropping back against the seat.
“Unbelievable! Do you have any idea how fucked up this is?”
“Watch your language,” he scolds me.
“Fuck yo?—”
Before I can finish, he unbuckles my seat belt and tugs me across the seat to straddle him. One hand finds my hip while the other glides up my neck.
“I do what I do so that I know you are safe. I have an overwhelming need to protect you, Nina, and I won’t apologise for it,” he whispers, quiet enough that Vinny can’t hear. His eyes skim every inch of my face as if he can’t pick a feature to settle on.
“I want to take you out.” His features soften, his thumb stretching up to brush across my cheek. “Please, don’t fight me on this. This isn’t me.” He shakes his head, his eyes resolute. “You make me fucking crazy.” The feel of his fingers flexing against my hips makes me shudder. “Give me a chance to show you.” He licks at his bottom lip, his mouth so close I can almost taste him. “One more night. If you still hate me after that, then I’ll leave you alone.”
I sit back on his lap. “Like a date?”
“You can call it whatever you want.”
I bite my lip to hide my smile. “I don’t hate you, Mason.”
He smirks, all cocky, and although I love the way he is looking at me, the way he feels beneath me, I know I need to make this harder for him.
“Say please,” I taunt softly into his ear.
“Baby,” he rasps, making my stomach bottom out. “You know what will happen if you demand my manners.”
I ground down on him, brazenly rolling my hips over his cock as if I have every right in the world to do it. As if he’smine. “Say. Please.”
He tips his chin up at me, dropping his dark eyes to my lips. “Please.”
Leaning in, I brush my mouth over his. “I’ll think about it, Bossman.” I smile, climbing from his lap and back to my seat.
He shakes his head at me as he rearranges himself in his trousers. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.
Glancing out the window, I notice we are nearly at the studio, and then realisation sinks in. I look to Vinny, feeling mortified that I allowed the sex maniac beside me to corrupt me. My cheeks heat.
Sensing Mason’s eyes on me, I look at him.
“Vinny, give us a minute, please,” he asks.
Vinny exits the car and stands at the entrance of the studio.
