“I’ll see you on Saturday, Mason,” I say, my voice coming out throaty but final.
His burning eyes hold me in place with more force than if I glued my feet to the ground myself. My eyes are transfixed on his, and as he leans forward a fraction of an inch, my mouth parts, sucking in a shaky breath. This man shouldn’t make me nervous. But he does.
Time seems to wait along with me. Slowly. So, so, slowly. He brings himself closer, letting our breath mingle before brushing his lips against the corner of my mouth. I lift my chin to meet him, seeking him out, but the moment I do, alow chuckle vibrates from deep in his chest. “See you Saturday, Pix.”
He looks down his stupid crooked nose at me, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.
Cocky jackass.
Mason follows me into the elevator, a smirk firmly in place as he stands at my back and uses the mirror to watch me. It annoys me that he can be so confident. He doesn’t show any reaction to what’s just happened. He just smiles and carries on.
He needs to be brought down a peg—or two.
“Ugh!” he gasps, then groans as my hand squeezes his balls. Not enough to hurt him but enough to make him squirm.
“What’s the matter, Bossman? You’ve lost your smirk.”
He exhales through his nostrils, and I have to bite my lip to stifle a laugh. But my triumph doesn’t last long, his breath rushes out heating the shell of my ear as he rolls his hips, grinding his erection into my back. I tighten my hand around his balls. “You think I don’t like your hands on me, baby?” His teeth pull at my earlobe and I can’t help but drop my head to his shoulder. “Harder,” he groans, rolling his hips as I squeeze him tighter.
His chest rumbles with a laugh as the elevator pings. Warm, wet lips smash into my dimple before he rights me.
I remove my hand just before the door slides open to Vinny.
I don’t go to my apartment right away. I hate being alone on any night of the week. But tonight, I’m rushing to Joey’s door for an entirely different reason. He hasn’t returned my text and when I tried to call him on my way home, he didn’t answer. It’s not unlike him, but after the six missed calls from before, it makes me worry.
Joey gave me a key when he moved into the flat, and I use it freely. But the coward in me is hesitant as I approach the door.
I knock.
“Joe?!”
When he doesn’t answer, I pull out my key. Worry sits like lead in my gut, slowing down my every move. He must be home. Joey is always home.
“Joe?!”
The lock clicks and I push on the door. I’m greeted by complete darkness.
“Joey?” I call out.
Something’s wrong. I can feel it.
Gingerly I reach for the light, flicking it on and bathing the small flat in a yellow glow. “Joey?” I call out, even though I’m certain he isn’t here.
I let the door click closed and then cross the room to his bedroom in a rush. As I expected, I find his bedroom empty and my shoulders sag as I let out a frustrated huff. Not knowing what else to do I sit on his bed and wait, calling him three more times before giving up and going home.
My apartment is quiet, and I waste no time disappearing to my room to crawl into my bed. It’s been the longest day, and I already know the next couple days won’t be easy with the ball and now Joey. I know something is up, and it makes me anxious not being able to get hold of him.
My phone beeps with a text.
Mase
I’m thinking about you
Butterflies take flight in my stomach, making it dip and bottom out.
He’s thinking of me?
Thank you for this evening. I really am looking forward to Saturday
