The divider rolls back up. The driver doesn’t even glance at me.
I’m alone again with Lucy, who’s not paying attention anymore, and Mass. He’s looking at the window, jaw set in a tight line, and I don’t really understand this. He seems almost like he’s in a terrible mood. Like bringing me home is some kind of chore.
But I can’t help myself. I’m deeply curious about him. What kind of man carries himself like this? What kind of man has a private jet, a driver, and an assistant like this incredibly beautiful woman? He’s obviously rich. And I’d wager he’s connected.
Once Lucy’s gone and we’re driving again, I turn to face Mass. I’m afraid, but he doesn’t seem particularly menacing. Honestly, it feels like I’m barely here.
“Can I ask you something?”
He frowns in response. But he doesn’t say no.
“What’s your last name? I mean, my family, they know a lot of people in New York?—”
“No last names. I don’t want to hear yours and you don’t want to know mine.” He moves closer. One large hand presses against my knee and moves up to my bare thigh. His palm is warm and slightly callused. I’m surprised by that. He must work with his hands on something.
“I mean, I’d like to know the man I’m going home with.”
“We have four hours together. You can call me Mr. Mason if you like and I’ll think about you in that little red dress while I peel you apart. Would you enjoy that, Allie? Letting me explore you? Tease you and touch you? Four hours isn’t long, but I plan on using every available minute.”
My mouth drops open. I lick my lips and try to steady myself, but my nervous system suddenly goes into overdrive.
“I think… I’d like that…”
“Don’t think. Be decisive. I don’t want to fill and fuck a woman who isn’t sure.”
I blink rapidly in surprise. “I’m sure. I mean, yes, I’d like that.”
“Good.” His palm slips to my inner thigh and he tugs me against him. “I want you enthusiastic. I want you dripping and pleading. Just like you were on the sidewalk. I want you begging, Allie. I want you right on the edge, your body tense and thrumming with how badly you want me to break you. I’m going to enjoy your taste tonight. And I’ll dream about that red dress when you’re gone. But for now,” he pushes the hem of my dress up. “This black one will have to do.”
He leans forward and his lips press against mine.
It’s electric. His kiss is possessive and dominant, and I believe every single word he’s telling me. Coming from any other man, it would sound like obscene bragging. But from him? It’s a promise. He’ll make this a reality. All I have to do is surrender.
And I let myself. I open my mouth. His tongue invades me, and I kiss him back with stupid abandon, aware that I’ve gotten myself into something much worse than I ever imagined, but I don’t care anymore.
I’m here in this moment. I’m doing this tonight. And when he drops me off in the morning, it’ll feel like this was just some wild dream.
For now, I don’t want to wake up.
MASS
My main office in the Fortress is in the heart of the first floor. It was once a gym, but I had it totally renovated a couple of years back when I got sick of riding the elevator to the top tower every time I wanted to work. Now the massive area is filled with books, couches, a huge fireplace fit for a medieval castle, and several desks. Computers hum and monitors glow. Several of my secretaries are working quietly at their stations. It’s big enough in here for a mid-sized company to operate. Except it’s just me and my trusted few.
Lucy’s at her station nearby, ignoring everyone as always.
“She’s comfortable but a little out of sorts still,” Satya says, pouring me a cup of tea. Behind me, a portrait of five dragons tearing the world apart looms over everything. “I’ll check back in shortly.”
“That’s good. I want her taken care of.”
“Could I make a suggestion, Mass?” Satya smiles warmly. The old woman is one of the rare employees who uses my first name.To everyone else, I’mMr. Cardoneor simplysir,which I prefer. It’s easier to keep a distance when they treat me like their boss.
“I suspect you’ll say it regardless of what I want.”
“You might want to see her yourself.” She places a small plate of cookies beside the tea. I never eat them, but she always offers anyway. She keeps saying one of these days I’ll give up denying them, and on that day, my life will change. “She needs some reassurance.”
“She’ll be fine.”
“Physically, yes, absolutely. But mentally?”
