MASON (Billionaire Bastards, Book One) Page 12

  His hand slides to my bare knee.

  I shift my leg closer, subtly uncrossing my ankles, widening the space between my thighs. Mason’s fingers inch toward my crotch, the warmth of his palm flattening the goose bumps that prickle along my skin. He pauses.

  And then my breath hitches as his hand begins to move again, tracking inwards toward my panties. His fingertips brush against the flimsy, damp lace.

  I’m acutely aware of our driver in the front seat, and clench my thighs in playful protest. What can he see in the rearview mirror? Mason deftly pries my legs apart, and pulls back my underwear to reveal the soft folds of my pussy. His thumb glides along the slit.

  “Mason,” I say, voice hushed, anxious.

  “Shhh,” he whispers, breath hot against my throat. He pinches my clitoris between his thumb and forefinger and squeezes. “Just relax.”

  Impossible with his hand stuffed down my underwear.

  He leans over and kisses my earlobe before taking it between his teeth. Beneath my clothing, he rolls my clit from side to side.

  An unexpected noise of approval purrs from the back of my throat. I fight to clench every muscle from the swiftly mounting climax, but his fingers masterfully deflect my efforts. Sweat beads between my breasts.

  Mason slips two fingers inside me, keeping his thumb pressed against the tight nub of my sex. “Jesus,” I gasp.

  He smiles at me sexily and withdraws his fingers, using them now to draw careful circles around my clit and my wet pussy lips. The tenderness brings me over the edge.

  An intense orgasm crests through me like a huge descending wave. I pant in short, desperate breaths, grasping the edge of the seat like a vise. My hips buck and I bite down on my lip to stop from crying out. Mason continues to caress my pussy until the last of my climax fades. Face hot with embarrassment, I burrow into his shoulder. “Fuck me,” I say, with a nervous laugh.

  He buries his head in my hair. “Oh yes, Miss Landers,” he says. “I certainly intend to. And that is a reward for your patience.”

  Mason leads me up to his penthouse, his body pressed against mine on the slow up the elevator.

  I can feel his erection nestling snugly between my backside, and a fresh wave of arousal washes over me. Shifting my hips, I swirl my ass against his groin.

  “You naughty girl,” he says, his breath a whisper against my neck.

  I imagine his cock forging into me, and my stomach twists. His hand slides up the back of my thigh, shifting my skirt to expose my backside. He caresses my flesh and then flattens his palm across my flesh. A stinging sensation tingles down between my legs.

  In one swift motion, he reaches around and pulls me up against him, his fingers on my crotch, warm through the material of the skirt. His mouth hovers over my ear. “I have every mind to bend you over and fuck you right here,” he says.

  My pulse thrums in my ears.

  I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror, scarcely recognizing the flushed-face girl that stares back at me. My eyes are glassy with desire, lips swollen with the need to be kissed.

  The elevator pings and the door swooshes open. We spill into the hallway. Mason’s hands are all over me, un-tucking my blouse, gliding across my hips, my stomach, my breasts. We move in a frenzy to the door of his suite, and he pins me against the wall, hands up over my head. His eyes are deep blue, swimming with lust, and I revel in that power.

  “You are so God damn sexy,” he says.

  The low growl of his voice stirs in my belly, and a response catches in my throat.

  Mason’s mouth covers mine, desperation seeming to seep from his very core. His lips and tongue move with fervor. I grind up against his cock, unable to fully touch him with his hands tight against my wrists.

  “Inside,” he says, against my lips.

  As always, I submit without protest, my body vibrating with restless anticipation.

  Chapter 23

  “You’re sure?”

  Mason’s eyes bore into me, searching my face for hesitation. I breathe deep, lift my chest, and exhale. “Positive. Greek currency is about to take a plunge. If we get in now…”

  He nods. “And you’re sure we’re not going to get scooped on this?”

  I mentally review my research, cataloging the information I’ve been studying for days on end. The window of opportunity is fast closing. I bite down on my lip. “I’ve analyzed the data backwards and forwards.”

  Mason’s eyes shimmer with that look he gets whenever he’s about to invest in something big—like a shot of adrenaline that settles behind his pupils and turns them to liquid ice. His cheeks are flush with excitement. “This is a huge investment for Daylight Holdings.”

  My throat tightens. “I know. And I’ve been careful.”

  Meticulous.

  I glance over the spreadsheets again, calculating the figures once more. There’s no way I can be wrong on this…

  Mason punches a number into his phone and puts it on speakerphone. Holden answers seconds later. “We’re going in for thirty million,” Mason says. He stares at me, searching, still, for any hint of hesitation. My nerves are like livewires, but I force myself to remain calm. Assuring.

  I am channeling my Killer Instinct.

  Still, I never asked him to go in for quite so much money. I just made the strong recommendation, he’s the one pulling the trigger for thirty million dollars.

  My throat goes dry.

  Oh, I know I’m supposed to be patient, and I have been. It’s been three weeks since Mason’s “lesson” and I’ve been obedient, watchful. I listen to his phone conversations, mentally taking note of his mannerisms during negotiations. I ply him with coffee, stay out of the way, and every so often, when he asks for my opinion, I carefully construct a response that demonstrates I am learning, processing, and above all, being very, very, patient.

  This is my first bold move since my “punishment” and I have a good feeling that if things go right, an office amid the other day traders is within my reach. I’ve become a familiar face among them, spending lunch hours and coffee breaks in the busy room that hums with pinging computers, low chatter, and constant phones ringing. I hover, without intrusion, soaking up their wisdom and patterns. I’ve even staked out my cubicle, an empty one near the coffee room—I’m sure it’s reserved specifically for me.

  I’ve become friendly with Misty, though the temptation to call her Gertrude still surfaces when she doesn’t return the friendliness, or snubs my attempts at small talk. It painfully obvious we have nothing in common.

  Holden whistles low from the speakerphone. “That’s a gamble, Mason.”

  Mason shoots me a quick glance, eyebrows pinched with concern. I give him the thumbs up, smiling.

  “My intel is good,” he says.

  There’s a pause, and then. “Tell me she wasn’t the only one on this.”

  Immediately, my spine stiffens.

  Mason folds his arms and sounds confident in reply. “I’ve done the due diligence here, Holden. Call Lucas in if you want.”

  Now my blood thrums with unease. My heartbeat picks up speed. If—when—this deal goes through, Mason’s partners will have no choice but to respect me. I’ll have earned their trust.

  Unless the market moves the wrong way. Unless, despite all my analysis, I don’t really know anything for absolute certain.

  Holden breathes through the phone. “Fine. I sure as hell hope she’s right on this.”

  “She is,” Mason says.

  Touched by his obvious support, I glance down at my spreadsheet, and study the numbers again.

  As the clock ticks down, a sense of dread begins to coil around my throat. Stop it, Liv. It’s just my insecurities playing tricks on my mind. Testing my newfound confidence. I blink back an anxious tear and stare at the web page, waiting for the transaction to complete.

  Something isn’t right. The numbers are moving, but they’re moving suddenly in the wrong direction.

  Bile rushes to my mouth.
“Mason, stop!”

  His expression hardens. “What is it?”

  “I think I made a mistake,” I manage, without stuttering. My breath comes in ragged gasps of fear. “Back out, before it’s too late.”

  Mason hovers over my computer screen. “It’s already too late,” he says. My stomach does a full-on summersault.

  “Stop second guessing yourself,” Mason says, voice laced with annoyance. “This is what I’m talking about—once you’ve made the decision, you can’t go back. I thought you’d started to shed this insecurity…”

  His words trail off as messages start flashing on the screen in red.

  I’ve made a terrible mistake.

  I know the exact second Mason realizes it, too. Sweat beads across his brow, and his shoulders go so tight you could snap an elastic off them and it would bounce right back. He is mad—beyond pissed.

  And how can I blame him?

  I just cost Daylight Savings thirty million dollars.

  That has to be the company’s biggest loss ever, or at least one of them.

  I clutch my stomach. “Oh my God, Mason. I am so sorry.”

  His response is cut short by his ringtone. Both his cell and landline are on fire. He pushes a button on the Bluetooth and turns away to stare at the window. If I were him, I’d be wondering how to throw me out of it without getting charged with murder.

  Slowly, I begin packing any personal items, while Mason tries to temper the anger of whoever is on the other line. Holden or Lucas? It doesn’t matter, he’ll eventually hear from them both.

  My throat goes dry. Thirty million dollars.

  I can’t even count the zeros in that.

  I’ll never earn that much money if I work twenty-four hours a day for the next fifty years.

  “I’m as much to blame here, Lucas,” Mason says into the phone. “The deal looked clean, I chose the number.” He bobs his head, responding to whatever Lucas has said back to him. “Right, I get it.” The tips of his ears go bright pink. “Fuck off. We both know you’d have made the same call. It’s not chump change, you’re right. We made a bad call, it happens.”

  Mason turns, freezing me under his intense stare. He catches me putting my coffee mug in my purse and shakes his head, mouthing, “You’re not going anywhere.”

  A minute later, he hangs up, and leans against the desk, hands in his pockets. My stupid eyes shoot straight to his crotch, and my heart aches knowing I’ll probably never get the chance to feel his cock inside me again. If losing the company this much money isn’t grounds for dismissal, I’ll be shocked. And I doubt our relationship—whatever it is—can survive after this.

  “As you were saying,” Mason says.

  I suck in a breath. Exhale with measured restraint. “I fucked up.”

  He nods.

  “And I’m so sorry. I know Lucas and Holden have a right to be mad, and they never liked me anyway, but I hope you will convey my most sincere apologies.”

  “It’s a good start,” he says. Our eyes meet, and in his, I find lust. He crooks his finger toward me, drawing me close with an invisible pull. “But losing thirty million dollars is a significant amount of money. I can’t just wave that off with an apology.”

  My voice catches. “What else can I do?” The tingle between my thighs betrays the innocence of my question.

  “You will be punished.”

  I don’t argue when he takes me over his knee, and carefully slides my dress up over my hips. He doesn’t bother to remove my thongs, but grips the string and pulls, making the lace rub against my pussy. My clit is already throbbing.

  His hand moves across my skin, tracing the curve of my buttocks, as though exploring. My lips and mouth go dry. The pads of his fingertips are everywhere.

  One second his hands are gently caressing, the next the flat of his hand lands on my right cheek with enough force to make me flinch. I bite down on my lips to prepare for the second blow, a sharp slap against the left side.

  “Do you think that is sufficient punishment?”

  I shake my head. My body trembles, desperate for his touch, aching for the pleasure that will eventually come from this pain. I don’t deserve it. I’ve fucked up, cost Mason and his company more money than I can even fathom. But I won’t let it rattle me. I can’t. I’ll make it right if it’s the last thing I do.

  He applies a crisp volley of slaps to each butt cheek alternately. I grit my teeth to stifle the protests, but his hand is like a slab of wood, each smack blending into the next.

  Each time his hand comes down, his fingers trail closer to my clit. I’m already soaked, and my nerve endings are electric, tense with anticipation of both the pleasure and the pain.

  My climax triggers suddenly, taking me by shock. I stiffen and arch, and then it releases in pulsating waves. Mason rubs my clit until the last of the orgasm fades. And as I lay gasping, stretched across his thighs, he leans close, breath feathering across the back of my neck. “Don’t ever make that mistake again. Do you understand, Miss Landers?”

  My voice goes hoarse. “Yes, Mr. Wood.”

  Chapter 24

  I’m scrolling through texts with my head down when I almost run straight into Lucas.

  He leans against the wall outside the ladies room, arms across his chest, a smug expression stretched across his handsome face. My throat instantly swells, in prickles of anxiety forming on my skin. It’s clear he’s waiting for me.

  “Shit,” I say. “I almost didn’t see you there.”

  Lucas unfolds his arms and tucks his hands behind his firm back. “You looked pretty deep in thought. Still thinking about how you pulled the wool over Mason’s eyes?”

  My spine goes rigid. “Excuse me?”

  A smirk plays on his lips. “Don’t be coy with me, Miss Landers. You’re not the first woman to try this.”

  I clear my throat. “I don’t know what you’re implying Mr. Hammer, but I’m just doing my job. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

  Lucas laughs without humor. “Oh, you’re doing a hell of a lot more than that.”

  Despite my attempt at self-control, my cheeks flush. I’ve tried to remain professional at the office, making sure to address Mason appropriately, never touching him in public, or giving off the impression that he’s anything more to me than my boss. But obviously our rendezvous are somewhat public knowledge—and it’s evident our relationship doesn’t meet the approval of Mason’s partners. It’s not my problem to fix.

  “That was some stunt you played last week,” he says. “You had us all convinced you’d tapped into some secret goldmine with that currency deal.”

  “My analysis was off. But I never claimed that it was foolproof and I’ve apologized again and again.” And I’ve been punished, I mentally add. The memory brings a stinging sensation to my backside, and I ache to be in the safety of Mason’s office instead of in the hallway with this wolf.

  Lucas is no gruffer or harsher than Mason, but he doesn’t make my insides flip. My knees don’t knock together with lust. Whereas Mason is still covering up his grief with a gruff exterior, Lucas is just mean. Pity the woman who tries to get through that spiked armor in one piece.

  Lucas’ lips twist into a sneer. “I’m sure Mason would have you believe that a simple apology makes that failure, but never forget, Miss Landers, this company belongs to the three of us. You’re just a cog in the wheel.”

  I push out my chest, standing my ground. “I’m aware of the hierarchy.”

  I’ve never questioned my position on the totem pole, just where on the lower part I land—and how quickly I can climb it. I stepped outside the bounds last week and made a bad call. Shit happens. Mason even said as much. I’ve atoned for my sins, and we’ve moved on. At least, Mason and I have.

  “If you want to know more about my position, I would recommend asking Mr. Wood.”

  Another sneer, this one catching me off guard with its cruelty. “But which position shall I ask about, Miss Landers? I’m sure you’re familiar wi
th them all.”

  My hand trembles, prepared to swipe it across Lucas’ face. Punching one of the partners is a guaranteed path to the unemployment line, but I’ve had just about enough of Lucas’ innuendos and insults. “I suggest you temper your words very carefully, because I don’t think Daylight Holdings wants a sexual harassment suit.”

  My voice carries far more strength than I feel, but it’s enough to loosen the animosity that makes Lucas’ face scrunch with disgust. His eyes soften a little, and I swear there’s a hint of amusement simmering under the surface of his hate. “I can see what Mason sees in you,” he says, his eyebrow lifting ever so slightly. “You’re a bit of a firecracker.”

  The back handed compliment makes my cheeks go hot with embarrassment.

  “Still, I’d advise you to be vigilant,” Lucas says. “Because I won’t allow him to throw away everything we’ve built here.”

  “That’s not my intent,” I snap.

  “Maybe not consciously,” he says.

  “Not in the slightest.” In my peripheral vision, I catch a glimpse of Misty, hovering at the end of the hall. Eavesdropping or waiting to go into the ladies room. I lower my voice. “Look, I don’t know why you have such a low opinion of me, but I’m not that girl.”

  Lucas leans close enough for me to smell the minty scent of his mouthwash. “Mason is different with you.” The sentiment echoes what I overheard on the island, and I’m still no clearer on what it means. “Distracted.” He runs his hand through his hair. “It’s a pivotal time for the company—I need Mason on his A game. Clear?”

  My body trembles with a dangerous cocktail of emotions, from angry to terrified. I lift my chin. “My job is to ensure Mr. Wood has everything he needs to stay focused.” A thin smile crests my lips. “I’m very good at my job, Mr. Hammer. So yes, we’re crystal clear.”

  Chapter 25

  I cradle two hot dogs drizzled with mustard in my hands and weave my way through the crowd of people waiting in line at Nate’s Hot Dog Stand. My grin is wide, despite the chaos, and my adrenaline hums with anticipation. I can’t believe Mason has never had a Nate’s dog.