MasonsRule-ARe (3 page)

She lifted her lashes and met his dark gaze directly. Again, the intensity stole her breath. Yes, the demand still came through loud and clear. But now she saw more. Lust? Want? It was hard to tell exactly, but it was enough to fortify her.

She reached for the buttons near her throat and began undoing them. Thank goodness she'd worn this blouse and not the one with the tiny buttons. She would have been here all night trying to get those undone.

"Whatever you're thinking about, stop. When a Dom asks you to perform a task, he expects you to comply for his pleasure, which means you need to focus on him."

"Okay. Uh… I mean, yes, Sir."
 

A small satisfied smile crossed his lips and she adored the slight transformation. For a second, he appeared far more approachable and even more impossibly gorgeous. Heat shot through her and gave her an added boost of courage she needed. She peeled the blouse from her shoulders and when he held out his hand for it, she gave it over.
 

Without taking his eyes from her bra-clad breasts, he draped the silk shirt over a nearby chair.
 

"Continue," he said.

She found her unusual predicament quite empowering. Sure, he issued a command she now followed. But the further she went, the more confidence it gave her, because he was reacting to every inch she bared. He genuinely seemed to enjoy what he saw.

Next she unzipped her straight skirt and shimmied the fabric over hips that were fuller than she liked. She might have more padding than he was used to, but she never let that bother her and she wasn't going to start now. Women with generous curves always looked special in her mind, in a sexy, old school Hollywood way. What she had taken a token amount of time to indulge in was her love for everything vintage. Had her life turned out differently, her chosen career path might have looked a lot more creative than investigative journalist.
 

Or bloodhound, as her editor liked to call her.

"Rebecca?"
 

She jerked her head up at his question, realizing she'd stopped mid-strip.

"If you're too shy to take your clothes off in front of me, I'm afraid this situation is going to be extremely difficult."

"I'm not afraid." She pushed at her skirt until the fabric pooled at her feet. When she stepped free, she noticed his gaze locked onto her high-heeled shoes.
Ding
. Point one in her favor. She chose carefully from her meager collection and opted on the most flattering spiked stilettos with thin leather straps fastened around her ankles. When she bent forward and reached for the shiny silver buckle, he turned his heated gaze back to hers.

"Leave them on." The husky sound of his request slid across her skin like a sensual caress, making her pulse pound harder in her ears.

Her nipples bunched underneath the lace of her bra and tiny tingles erupted between her legs. At this rate, she'd never get undressed without begging him to end the bad sex karma she hadn't even realized was getting to her.

"Please continue," he said.

Rebecca reached behind her and unhooked the metal clasp of her bra and slid the straps down her arms. The cool air of the room hit her sensitive areola and a small moan slipped out before she could stop it. His eyes widened and she felt her panties grow damp. She started to cross her arms across her middle, but the stern look on his face stopped her in time.
 

"Cup them for me, sweetheart. Never try to hide such beauty. Ever."

Rebecca ignored the heat of her rising blush and followed his instructions. She scooped her ample breasts and pushed them together in a way she hoped he found pleasing. It was so hard to concentrate when all she could think about were his hands doing this instead of hers, and what they would feel like.

"Now show me how you touch them when you're home alone and horny."
 

Rebecca blinked. Was he serious? She stared at him for a full twenty seconds waiting for his expression to change and let her off the hook. Instead his eyes narrowed and his mouth pursed into a slight frown.
 

"Again, if you're going to question every request, this isn't going to go well."

"I didn't say anything," she said.

"Body language is even more potent than words, my dear."

His tone made her face scrunch into what she imagined was not a flattering look. Maybe this wasn't going to be as easy as she thought. She could quit now and go back to hiding in the club corners with envy, or she could stop fighting it and follow through with what she came here for.

Rebecca straightened her spine and slid her hands closer together until her fingers circled her nipples. To her surprise, some of the knots in her stomach began to loosen as she increased the pressure under Mason's intense scrutiny. Something about the way he watched her made her feel more desired than ever before. He didn't seem to be in a rush to finish like all the others.
 

"What's going through that pretty head of yours, Rebecca?"

Heat bloomed on her face but some of her hesitation had disappeared. "It dawned on me I've never done anything like this before.” His puzzled expression let her know she said too much.
 

Damn.

“I mean with the lights on before and with a man like you."
 

He looked thoughtful for a moment, as if contemplating what she said. She held her breath hoping her recovery passed by. He slowly rose from the chair and she watched his careful movements as he approached her. Sure he was handsome, but it was more than his looks that drew her inexplicably to this meeting today. His air of confidence and the utter control that followed far outweighed his appearance on the attraction scale.
 

He stepped into her space and stopped, pulling her hands from her breasts and placing them at her sides. "Not a virgin but not a lot of experience either. Interesting."

Rebecca didn’t respond. Better to let him cling to his belief she was inexperienced rather than face the truth this soon. Plus, he made it impossible to speak with him this close to her nearly naked body. He had a way of scrambling her brain patterns to the point it was impossible to put together a decent sentence. It took all of her concentration to remain upright and not lean into him. It seemed her body had a mind of its own and all it cared about was getting close to him.

"I think we're going about this the wrong way, under the circumstances." He spoke close to her, his breath brushing the shell of her ear. She tried hard to hold back the shiver his voice caused and failed. "I've decided what I want for my birthday."

She lifted her lashes and met his gaze. "What?" The sudden change of topic surprised her.

He leaned forward and kissed the side of her neck. But he didn't stop there. He dipped down and blazed a trail of heat with his mouth to the tops of her breasts. From there he licked a path to her nipple where he quickly enveloped it with his mouth.

Rebecca's sharp intake of breath echoed through the room as her nerve endings lit up, nearly combusting where she stood. "Oh, God.”

"Mmm.”
 

His touch was even better than she imagined these last few weeks. Her pulse raced and sweat broke out across her lower back. Every gentle tug of his teeth on her sensitive flesh sent a flash of heat racing straight to her clit. Each pulse brought her hips another inch closer to his leg and, to her horror, she imagined in a minute or two she'd be dry humping his pants, begging for more.

She must have done something to draw his attention, as he quickly jerked away and gave her some space. To her credit, she faltered on her heels at the loss but managed to pull herself together at the last second, instead of crashing to the floor.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't resist a taste."

Rebecca crinkled her forehead. "Isn't that what I'm here for? So that you can— I mean—?"

"Yes, that is my intention. Eventually. For now, I think you should go home and prepare for what's coming."

"And what's that?" she asked.

"You aren't signing a detailed contract like that for some quick fuck and go, if that's what you're thinking. Not my style, babe. This is going to take time and commitment on both our parts. A lot of time. Most of which will take place with my cock buried somewhere in your body." He reached out and stroked a finger down her bare arm, raising goose bumps in his wake. "You have one last chance to think over whether you want to sign. I'm telling you now this won't be easy—I won't be easy. More than likely, you'll want to call me a bastard a time or two. Yet once we start, you'll never want to say no."

Rebecca fought not to roll her eyes. Even with her body on fire and ready to beg for more of his touch, his arrogance had a way of bringing her back down. She was starting to understand how he operated, although she didn't know why. What happened to him to make it so easy to push people away? There was a hell of a lot about Mason Sinclair she didn't understand, but she wanted to know now more than ever.

She lifted her chin a fraction and met his gaze. "Can I borrow a pen?"

His right brow lifted at the same time his nose flared and she wanted to gloat over the tell-tale signs of surprise that crossed his face. After a few more heartbeats, he walked over to the table and plucked a pen from his jacket. He held it out over the unsigned contract and basically dared her to come and get it.

Challenge accepted, Mr. Sinclair
.
 

She made her way to his side with her head held high and spine ramrod straight. To hell with modesty. He pricked at her pride one too many times and she was ready to come out fighting. She grabbed the pen and turned to the tabbed page. Without another word, she signed her name and dropped the pen.

Before she could take another breath or utter a word, she found him pressed to her buttocks, his hand shoving her forward across the table, blanketing her with his weight.
Damn
. He made her feel downright dainty under his massive frame. That foreign sensation of vulnerability and protection rose inside her again, scrambling her brains.
 

His fingers found their way from the sensitive area behind her knees to the vee between her legs. He hovered so close to her labia, she could feel the heat coming from his hand. Or maybe that was her heat radiating against him. She couldn't tell anymore. Her breath caught in her throat.
Please
. The word filtered through her mind but thankfully didn’t escape her lips.

"Some resistance is expected, Miss Adams, since this is fairly new to you. However, you should be aware I will not hesitate to correct you in any way I see fit when it happens." As if on cue, those torturous fingers slid through her arousal and glanced across her clit.
 

"Ohh."
 

And then he was gone. Fingers, body and warmth.

"You will need to pack tonight. Whatever you think you need for a few days. Although trust me, it won't be much. Beyond that we will shop for. Tomorrow my driver will pick you up at 6 p.m. sharp and deliver to you my apartment. You’ll be staying with me for the duration of our contract."

Before his words sank in and she had a chance to respond, he lifted and turned her. He had her clothes in hand and held them out to her. With shaky limbs she took them and began to dress. When she had trouble fitting the small buttons of her blouse into their respective holes, he brushed her hand aside and finished the task himself. The efficient way he did it unsettled her even further.
 

"Don't look so disappointed, Rebecca. You'll only have to wait for what comes next until tomorrow. Tonight we'll both go to bed anticipating what comes after one night of sleep."

"What does come next?" she asked, now picturing what he looked like in a bed.
Shit.

"Does it really matter?"

She shook her head. "I guess not."

"Good girl." He lifted her hand and pressed her lips to her hand. "My driver will be waiting outside to take you home."

"I have my—"

"And if I thought you were in a good frame of mind to drive, I would let you. Don't worry. It will be waiting for you safe and sound when you need it."

She wanted to protest. Badly. But that look of arrogance he wore like a fricking badge disappeared. This was what he wanted. Maybe even needed.

"Okay," she said.
 

She looked down at her signature on the contract and her lip quivered. This wasn't just for him or her. No. Another person was at stake and she'd do whatever it took.
 

Anything.

Chapter Three

"Mason, are you listening to a word of this conversation?"

Mason looked up and met his attorney's gaze. Vincent Knight, the one person he divulged almost all of his secrets to, sat across the table looking at him with his brow furrowed, waiting.
 

He hadn't been listening much. Not with the anticipation of meeting Rebecca in less than an hour. He slept little last night even after jacking off—twice. The scent of her sweet skin had invaded his head and it hadn't gone away. He'd thought once he secured her signature on the contract, some of the tension riding him would lessen. How wrong he was.