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Authors: Margaret McHeyzer

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BOOK: Yes, Master
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“How?” this piques my interest and I sit forward in my chair.

“It’s a bit difficult to explain. But you’ll meet her tomorrow. You have a tux right? It’s a very swanky affair, black and white event.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ve got a tux, but tell me about your woman.” Mason almost spits his beer out when I finish the sentence. “What’s so funny?”

“She’s definitely not my woman,” his cheeks pink up a bit with his coy and elusive answer.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Um, doesn’t matter. So tell me what’s been happening with you? No woman I see.”

“No, nothing serious. I mean sure I get pussy, but nah after Joanna I’m not really that…” I pause and think to myself,
interested in women, wanting women
, “interested. So it’s just shallow meaningless sex when I want it.”

“You know, if a book was written about you, it would be called Man Whore.”
 

I look at Mason and I must have a scowl because he bursts into laughter which makes me smile.

“Let’s order and you can tell me about this hot shot film Mr. Movie Star’s working on.”

I grab my phone and dial for pizza. Mason sits on the sofa looking at the TV but definitely not watching it.
 

He looks worried, after all these years I can tell all his signs of anxiety and stress. His eyes glass over, and his shoulders slump forward but it’s the slightly down turned left hand side of his mouth that gives away just how stressed he is. And that’s exactly what he’s doing sitting on my sofa pretending to watch TV so I won’t question him. But that shit doesn’t sit right with me, and we’ve been through so much for me to ignore it.

“Mase,” I say as his gaze doesn’t waver. He’s deep in thought and he mustn’t have even registered me in the room. “Mase,” I say a little louder.
 

Again, I get nothing from him.
 

“Mase!” I half yell at him, it’s then he snaps his head up and looks at me with a look I’ve only seen a few times from him.
 

There’s an expulsion of desire, heat and raw passion radiating from his entire frame. From the top of his head, to his shoe clad feet. I can see his chest rising and falling quickly and I can hear his labored breath hitching rapidly. Shit, what do I do? If I keep looking at him, I’ll try and do something stupid,
like kiss him
.

So I do the only thing I can do, get up and leave.

“I’ll just grab us some beers.” As I walk past him my leg brushes up against his, I feel it. That damn crap they talk about in books. The electricity and zing and everything else those love sick horny teenage kids say.
 

But fuck, I won’t do anything about it.
 

I’m not gay
.

I spend a few extra moments in the kitchen just catching my breath and clearing my head before I go back out. When I do, I see that Mason’s a little more composed in himself too.

Just as I hand him another beer, the doorbell rings telling us that our pizza’s here.

“So tell me about the movie you’re working on,” I say as I sit as far away as I can from him, not wanting to touch him so I can’t lose control.

“Apparently there’s Oscar talk with this one, Ry.”

“What’s it about?”

“I play an emotionally broken man. He has two kids and he’s been divorced for about five years. The character’s been harboring a painful and tragic secret all his life which makes it difficult for him to find his place in the world.” I think about this story line as I eat a couple of pieces of pizza.
 

“What’s he been hiding that has him so broken?” I ask as I take a swig of my beer.

“He was sexually abused as a kid by his father.” I have to exercise every ounce of strength in me not to scream out that that story’s me with most of the details correct.

“And what happens to the guy?” I try to sound as casual as possible.

“He goes through a few years of self-torture and has no personal love. He goes to therapists, and tries whatever he can to move forward.”
 

“And?”

“He ends up not being able to take the pressure any longer and kills himself.” Mason says and then shoves more pizza in his mouth.

Is that where I’m headed?

To a life where I can’t handle the pain and the humiliation any longer and I finally end up taking my own life?

A very real and probable future.

Chapter 3

Last night was difficult for me. When Mase went to bed, I lay on my too soft mattress across the hall from him and had a restless night’s sleep.
 

Every time I closed my eyes I saw
him
, the beast.
 
Memories so clear and so vivid that I thought he was in my room with me. A few times I cowered away on my bed as I heard him telling me what to do. To
‘spit on my cock, boy so I can fuck you good’
I started crying when I remembered the first time he did
that
to me, it hurt and I was screaming at him to stop. He just laughed and said to bite down on the pillow.
 

That was the third time I went and stayed with
him
. I was crying so much, but also bleeding so much, I thought he’d damaged me and I couldn’t bear to even wipe when I went to the bathroom.
 

He let me recover from that night, but the next time, he was rougher and introduced a vibe. He said I needed it because he came too quickly and wanted to get hard again, so he fucked me with his dick and then with a vibe. But that wasn’t the worse of it.
I wish it was.

By 5am I gave up on the little sleep I did have. I dragged myself out to the bathroom, closed the door and turned the shower on hot. Sometimes it was the only way I could wash away the thoughts of
him
, to burn my body with scorching water and scrub it in hope that everything
he
ever did to me disappeared down the drain, just like the water that was caressing my worthless body. But no matter how much I did that, I would never feel clean.
 

I always felt so,
used
.

Whilst in the shower my thoughts abruptly stop about
him
and swiftly redirect to the man that’s lying in the bed across the hallway from my room.

What he’s wearing as his hard muscled body is soundly sleeping. How his hair must be falling over his face as his breath lightly grazes the strands that haphazardly are strewn across his lips.
 

I close my eyes and lean into the sliding glass shower door. My forehead, hot and clammy from the shower, finds the cool of the door and instantly it sends shivers all the way down my body. The difference in the temperature is not unwelcome, it’s more enticing to feel the stark contrast between my overheated body and the cold of the glass.

My right hand is at my throat, I can feel the tightness and pressure my fingers are putting around my neck.
Mmm, yes I like that.
 

Slowly my hand slides down from my throat and finds its next stop, my left nipple. I pinch it and pull it to emulate the same touch I want Mason to be doing to me right now. God, the feel of the hot water running down my body as my fingers expertly make my nipples stand on end is fucking unbelievable. My cock’s starting to strain and I need to relieve it.

My hand wraps around my shaft and slowly I move it up to the tip. I flick the end with my thumb and I grunt with the shudder it sends down to the core of my body.
 

Mason’s lips flood forward and I want them on me, closing my eyes tighter I can feel him. Feel his body in here with me, feel his entire torso pressing up against my back. How his raspy tongue would feel, rough and hard as he licks my shoulder blade and growls in my ear.
 

I turn my head and his minty breath’s right there, it’s mingling with the water and it feels terrific. I turn a little more and he pins me to the door, I want nothing more than to feel every part of him. His cock’s pressing into my ass, yes, I want it. I manoeuver myself back trying to gain that friction, and the ultimate closeness to him.
 

“I want you, Mason,” I sigh but he doesn’t say anything.
 

He leans around and captures my mouth in his. His hand comes around and starts stroking me. Shit he’s everywhere; his tongue’s seductively licking my mouth as his lips haven’t broken contact with my own.
 

His stubble’s scratching at my cheek and all I want to do is grab his head so I can fuck his mouth. Oh yeah, his body’s caging me to him, and his hand is stroking my hard and eager cock. He drops it and cups my balls while he tightens his fingers around them. His other hand entwines with mine as he places them together on the door out to the side of me.
 

I turn to see our fingers perfectly fitting together as the slight skin tone difference hold the hues of a well stroked oil painting.
 

“Yes, Mason.” His hand speeds up and I can feel the tightening in my balls starting. He flicks the head of rock hard cock and I groan in his mouth.
 

Yes, that’s it.
 

He pushes against my ass and I can feel him, just there. Ready to enter, it feels so good. I feel like I’ve had a blanket of Mason thrown on me, and fuck I love it. He strokes me and holds my cock so tightly in his hand that it causes me to rapidly hurdle toward my release.
 

“Slow down, Love,” I moan as I throw my head back onto his shoulder. I start shaking and my heart skips a beat as streams of cum coats the shower wall.
 

“Thank you.” I turn to kiss Mason but, he’s not here.
 

Ducking my head out of the door I try to see where Mason’s gone. He’s not here, shit. Leaning my back up against the cooling of the glass, instantly my heart regulates as I run my hand over my mouth touching my lips.

I imagined all of that.
 

And I fucking hated that it wasn’t real.

I stay in the shower until I’m totally at ease and my body’s finally calmed down.

Leaving the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my hips, I open the door and Mason’s standing at the entrance of his room, leaning up against the frame. He’s wearing black draw string sleep pants and no shirt.
 

I can’t help but look at the piercings in each of his nipples, or the way his hair’s loose and out and casually falls around his face. Or the erection in his pants that I so desperately want to taste. I want to know how he feels against me, with me and inside me.
 

“Morning,” I say as I turn away before I do something stupid.

“Morning,” he replies and his voice floors me, it cuts right through me all the way to my core. It reaches deep inside and ruggedly squeezes the life out of my body. So sexy and so wanton, and he’s not even trying.

I get into my room and shut the door, and then I lean my back up against it. I let my head fall back against the flimsy wood and try and regain whatever sane thought I can.
 

What am I going to do?
 

Mase is staying with me, it’s only the second day he’s here and I’m fighting with my inner demons from the moment I let him inside my damn house.
 

I want him, but
I’m not gay
.
 

It’s not right for me to lust after my best friend like this. We’ve been friends for twenty-four years and since
that
man disposed of me, I’ve wanted Mason. I know he’s not into me, over the years I’ve seen him with women or he’s told me about the women his bedded. But fuck it. Why can’t he look at me like I want him to?
 

Why can’t he want me the way I want him?

But more importantly, why do I want him so much?
 

I lie on my bed and close my eyes, just for a moment.

Bang.

Bang, bang.

Bang.

I startle awake as I leap off the bed and sprawl on the floor.
 

“Ry!” Mason yells from the other side of the door. I jump up off the floor and swing the bedroom door open.

“You scared the shit out of me, Mason.” I run my hand over my eyes and face trying to wake up. “What do you want, man?” But I’m met with silence. When I look over at Mase, he’s staring at my body. He’s mouth’s open and his eyes are so wide. He rakes his stare down my body, then back up again. He lifts an eyebrow as he ogles me. I look down and notice I’m completely naked. I fell asleep on my bed with just the towel wrapped around me and he scared me with his bashing that now I’m standing before him totally exposed.
 

He’s not moving away, and neither am I.

“Mason.” I lower my voice as he looks up at me and just stares.

He can see straight through me, totally bare and open, for him to see all my secrets.

“We need to leave in an hour,” Mase says as he takes a step closer to me.

I can feel his heat, and my body instantly reacts to him.
 

Don’t be a coward Ryan, just reach out and touch him.
 

His brown eyes turn from a hard brown into a molten chocolate as we stand a mere step apart from each other.

Our breathing is labored and rapid.
 

Mason reaches forward and brings his hand up to my chest, but before he touches me, his demeanor changes and he retracts it, dropping it beside his body.

“I can’t,” he whispers as he turns away from me and goes into his bedroom.

My head spins as I close my door and stand completely ashamed in my room.

He doesn’t want me.

Why would he?

I’m broken.

Chapter 4

I’m standing in my stupid penguin suit waiting for the limousine that Mason’s called to arrive. I haven’t dared to leave my room, because truthfully, I don’t trust myself around him.

Every time I’m near Mason, all I want to do is cross that line and touch him. Whether it’s a touch to his arm, or a kiss on his lips, I just want to feel him.

I’m sitting on my bed, and I’m praying that when we get to this event that Mason will leave me and go to his woman.
 

BOOK: Yes, Master
2.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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