by Ellie Danes
I nodded. “I think you’ll surprise yourself. And I’m sure you could use some money for your school, bills, whatever, right?”
She bit her lip. I had noticed she wore some very strong lipstick today, almost the color of ripe strawberries on a summer day. Looking down again, I felt the heat course through my body once more. I shifted, sliding my hand into my pocket to hide any changes that might have been occurring down below. I was usually very good at controlling myself. Not so much in Harper’s presence, though.
“I want to accept,” she finally said. “I just... Are we going to be working closely together? What is my job supposed to be?”
Closely together. I liked the sound of that. I shrugged, trying not to scare her off.
“We’ll be working close.”
“That’s awfully vague,” she blurted.
My eyes met hers. A small, uncertain smile played on her lips before she took another sip of champagne.
“Just relax,” I told her. “It will be fun, and no one here is going to hurt you or be any trouble.”
“Except that Xander guy.” The corner of her lip lifted up.
“I promise,” I said, trying to keep my anger over that incident from being betrayed by my voice. “You’re safe with me.”
She nodded, almost draining her champagne.
“What do you say about finally finishing that tour? You’re going to need to know where everything is if you’re joining our staff.” I offered.
“Well, I suppose I could stay a little while longer.” She said.
I took her empty glass, extending my hand to her, daring her to take it. She hesitated a little, meeting my eyes for a moment before conceding.
Tugging her a little closer and gently leaning in toward her ear, I whispered, “Trust me.”
She nodded and followed me into the living room without saying a word, but I could see the goose bumps on her arm.
Chapter Five
Harper
I wasn’t drunk. I had downed two full glasses of champagne in the past hour and I couldn’t even feel a buzz. But when Mason grabbed my hand, black dots filled my vision as my face heated.
His fingers gently cupped my face, lips working to kiss mine hungrily, tongue sliding between my lips. I could feel the pressure build up as his tongue explored the cavities of my mouth, one hand already working up my leg...
I tried rubbing away the goose bumps as Mason took my glass over to the little coffee table. My mind had just gone there again. I cursed silently. That damn dream had really thrown me for a loop.
“Ready?” He asked, taking my hand again.
His fingers tightened against mine as we walked down one of the many hallways of the mansion. He turned toward me a little, giving me a grin as the hallway gave way to a closed white door.
“This is like a secret passage.” I said, gesturing to the dimly lit hallway.
He laughed, a sound that was quickly becoming my favorite, if only for the sincerity of it.
Letting go of my hand, he took out a set of keys from his pocket, smoothly unlocking the door and opening it. “After you, my lady,” he said, a boyish grin on his face as he ushered me in front of him, his hand just barely touching the small of my back as I walked in.
His arm curled around my arched back, tugging me to him as his mouth worked its way from my lips to my neck, peeling back my clothes to reveal my covered breasts. Sloppy kisses trailed down my body as he kissed the spot just between my breasts, his fingers playing and kneading at the soft mounds beneath my bra. I writhed beneath his touch, my head falling back against the wall as his lips...
I almost tripped going into the room. Mason caught me by my arm, unaware of what had just gone through my mind.
Light flooded my vision as we entered the room. A huge study lay before us, with full-length windows letting in as much natural light as possible. On one side of the room, a gigantic video monitor hung from the wall and a comfy sofa offered some relaxation, while on the other side a desk and some comfortable-looking chairs sat across from each other. On the adjacent wall, I could see more monitors and equipment.
The thing that caught my attention the most, however, was an expensive black camera sitting on a tripod behind the desk, facing the chairs.
“What is this room for?” I asked, turning back toward Mason.
Mason strode over to the desk, following my gaze toward the camera. He looked at me, a smile playing on his lips. “This?” He gestured toward the elaborate display. “This is where we interview potential clients.”
“Oh,” I said. “I see.”
He went on as if he hadn’t heard me, though his eyes had a glimmer in them as he continued. “The clients have to reveal everything about themselves, here.”
“Everything?”
He nodded. “Everything. Their deepest secrets, their desires...”
“What?” I stopped him, looking up to find that he had crossed his arms, leaning up against the desk and watching me curiously. “Why would anyone do that?”
“It helps us determine how successful they’ll be in our program, and who they would be the most compatible with. We have to understand what they want in order to make their experience the best it can possibly be. It’s hard to grasp until you’ve been through it.”
I said nothing, instead noticing how broad his shoulders looked as he relaxed against the desk, how he stared at my face with such intensity that he seemed almost to be looking deeper. His eyes reminded me of a predator stalking its prey. I didn’t know if I felt exhilarated by that prospect or frightened.
What was he trying to figure out about me?
A shiver crept up my spine and I had to break eye contact.
“What about you?” He broke the silence.
“What about me?” I asked, puzzled.
Cocking his head at me, he smiled slightly. “Why don’t you try? I’ll interview you. It’ll help prepare you for your job here.”
“I don’t think—” I paused. He still stared at me with that same, mysterious look on his face. “Maybe...”
“You have to be loose. Open minded. No holding back.” His brilliant blue eyes glittered again, taking me in, reveling in my indecision.
I didn’t know what sort of questions he would ask me, or how personal they would be. I could only remember Avery’s advice: I couldn’t shut him out or mark him off as just another asshole guy who was going to take advantage of me. Not without giving him a chance.
He still looked amused at my indecision. Hesitantly, I moved to the chair across from the desk, looking straight at him. “Let’s do it.”
With a nod, he walked over to a large camera light, flipping it on. I squinted a little as he adjusted it. “You think you’re ready?”
“Are you going to record me?” I asked, suddenly nervous.
He gave me a reassuring smile. “Just for fun.” He flipped on the camera, the red of the recording light flashing for a few moments before remaining steady.
“I’m definitely not ready to be a movie star.” I bit my lip as I attempted to hide my nervousness.
He walked over, moving to stand behind me. Although he didn’t touch me, I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he whispered, “Harper, trust me. You’ll be fine. No one else will see this. Just you. And me.”
Trust him. Yeah, right. The way he looked at me as he walked back over behind the camera made me suspicious, like he’d done this a few times before. But then he launched into the questions, making it hard for me to focus on anything else.
“What is your full name?”
“Harper,” my voice squeaked. I drew a breath and cleared my throat, raising my voice a little, trying to ignore his gaze as I spoke to the camera lens instead of him. “Harper Browning.”
“Good,” he said, nodding, encouraging me. “What is your eye color?”
“My driver’s license says blue.” I said without thinking. I felt like an idiot. “They’re blue,” I added with less uncertainty.
“What was the name of your last boyfriend?”
I laughed, although the picture of Jake in his dark hoodie blocking my way out of the apartment still haunted my mind. “Asshole.”
A smile broke out on his face as he laughed. I liked making him laugh. Suddenly, I felt the need to please him with my answers. To make him happy, maybe even make him laugh again.
Calm down, I told myself. My thoughts were racing far too much.
“Jake,” I said, once he had stopped laughing. “My last boyfriend was named Jake.”
“And what are you looking for in a man?”
I thought for a moment, considering. “I guess a gentleman—I know that sounds cliché.” I added, shrugging my shoulders.
Mason smiled again, but remained silent, listening. So I continued. “Someone who knows how to treat a woman, someone who knows what makes me tick. A real gentleman, but with a little bit of a bad boy side, I guess.” My eyes dipped and I was feeling like more of an idiot than before. A bad boy gentleman? I should have just stopped with the gentleman part.
He didn’t look disturbed, though. Instead, he folded his hands. His eyes hadn’t left my face.
“That’s good, Harper. Really good. It’s good to know what you want.” He paused for a moment. “We get in depth here with our clients, Harper. The next few questions might ask you to stretch yourself a little. Do you want to continue with the interview?”
I giggled, trying to expel some of my nervousness at that question. I already felt as if I had flunked the test, or whatever this was.
“Well, is this something I might be doing if I worked here?” I asked.
“Oh yes,” Mason said, nodding. “We have to know what makes our clients—as you said—‘tick.’”
I fiddled with the bottom of my dress, slouching a little. “Okay,” I conceded. “Let’s do it.”
He sat down in a big cushy chair behind the desk. My eyes followed him instead of staring at the camera. He leaned forward a little, the next question out of his mouth coming as a surprise to me.
“Tell me your biggest fantasy.”
“My biggest fantasy?” I gasped, suddenly uncomfortable.
He nodded. Was he testing me? I couldn’t tell.
Taking a breath, I pushed forward. “I’d like to go on a nice date somewhere.” I said, struggling to find the right words without sounding like a complete idiot. I wasn’t Avery; I couldn’t simply tell anyone my deepest secrets and desires. And, I wasn’t a client. “With the past I’ve had, a nice date would be good enough for me.”
Mason made a noncommittal sound. “A nice date, hmm? I don’t think that’d be good enough for our interview.”
He got up again, prowling like a lion as he paced a little, his strong profile filling my vision. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye before putting his gaze on the ground, pursuing his lips a little.
“What’s your real fantasy, Harper, what do you desire?” the words echoed a little in the empty room.
I gave him a blank stare, pretending that I didn’t know what he was talking about. His hand ran through his hair as he moved his gaze from the floor back to my eyes, his face not revealing anything at all.
“What sort of answer are you looking for?” I asked, helplessly. “I don’t know.”
“It isn’t about what I’m looking for, Harper. Everyone has a fantasy of some sort; you just have to dig deep enough to get at it. Can you do that?”
“I...”
My mind shifted. I closed my eyes, and the room went black. Suddenly, I was back on the bed from my dream, watching as Mason made his way down my body, savoring every inch of it with his mouth and tongue. His blue eyes looked up at me as he reached my hips, hands cupping my ass firmly as he brought my body up to his lips. “I want you,” he told me, “I want you to enjoy this, Harper.” His lips tightened around my sweet spot as he buried his face between my legs, tongue circling and stroking me inside and out, inside and out, again and again.
“Good,” he mumbled, his mouth still pressed up against me. His fingers slipped inside of me, stretching my tight space and forming it to his will, hitting places deep inside. I groaned beneath his touch, hands burying themselves in his hair, taking tufts of it and tugging lightly as my body convulsed against his touch, nearing the edge of pleasure. I cried his name and he looked up at me again, wickedly stopping his movements.
“Harper,” he said, and my eyes fluttered open.
I realized I had pressed my legs tightly together. I relaxed them, unsticking them from the leather seat and running my hands across the front of my skirt, half expecting to find it up around my waist. My sweaty hands stuck to its silky material.
I shivered slightly; the daydream had been so real, so clear. I didn’t even quite know how my mind had made up such a scenario with Mason as its key player. I had never experienced anything like that dream in reality.
“Where did you just go?” He asked, smiling a little. “Did you find your fantasy?”
A fantasy. That’s what it was. It had never happened to me, yet I could feel every sensation; imagine every single touch and taste and sense present in the dream. I closed my eyes again, biting my lip. The taste of my cherry lip-gloss filled my mouth as I thought about what to say momentarily, before my mind took over. “I’m with a man,” I said, breathe catching in my throat before I accidentally said Mason’s name.
“Yes?” Mason prompted, his tone interested.
“We go to a beautiful restaurant by the sea, one where you can practically see the whole ocean from the window. We drink wine and he’s a perfect gentleman throughout the entire thing, opening doors for me, that sort of thing.” I laughed a little, opening my eyes to peek at Mason. He still stood, hands folded together, listening attentively. I grew serious again, letting my unconscious mind take over as I once again immersed myself in the fantasy. “He asks if I want to go back to his place. I do.
“Suddenly, I’m in a room at his house,” A room like this one, I wanted to say. And you’re the man, Mason.
“It’s dark outside and he’s drawn the curtains. The only light we have comes from a few scented candles in the room. Rose petals cover the floor and bed, and they tumble into my hair and onto my clothes when he lays me down, pinning me underneath him as he kisses me softly, gently. His kisses consume me, leaving me panting for more as he moves his mouth from my lips to behind my ear, down across my neck.” Mason sucks softly on my tender skin, licking and nibbling at my earlobe. The scent of vanilla fills my senses.
“Go on,” Mason encouraged.
I didn’t know if I should. “I like it when he’s in control, taking his time with me.” He pins my wrists up above my head with his hands as his mouth explores my skin, coming up every so often to kiss my lips, swollen already from the previous kissing, but still ready to taste him. He peels back my clothing, layer by layer, grabbing my hips in a firm, strong hold and dragging me gently toward him. “He makes me feel like I am the only woman in his life—and I am, the only woman in his life.” “You,” he says, “I want you. I need you.”
“It makes me want to give my whole self to him,” I say, struggling for words as my mind whirls with the thought of him, the fire of the candlelight reflected in his eyes. He undoes his belt, slowly, deliberately. I watch in fascination.
“And he gives his whole self to me.”
He is on top of me, sliding into my slick walls, his length opening me to him, leaving me wanting more. He stays deep inside of me. I can feel his panting breath on my sensitive neck. I run my hands across his toned back, feeling the muscles of his shoulders, his biceps, my hands coming to rest in each of his, interlacing our fingers together as we become one.
Again my legs were pressed tightly together, and I had to consciously relax. “Um...” again I struggled, unwilling to tell him the rest.
“You can tell me. Open yourself to me.” Mason’s voice sounded soothing, reassuring.
“He...” is deep inside of me, then not, as he pulls
away, giving me a brief moment of wanting before he is back again. Again he takes my hips in his hands, pulling me upward as he thrusts into me, hitting a spot deep inside that makes me groan with pleasure.
“He likes to please me. He knows exactly what I like.” He says my name, not looking away from my eyes as he stands over me, the movement of his hips speaking for themselves. I am the one who has to break eye contact, screaming into a blanket as my body convulses with pleasure, black and grey filling my mind as I embrace the ecstasy.
“The way he holds me...” I realized in horror that I was about to describe his strong grasp on my hips. “I feel safe,” I say instead. “I feel safe when he holds me.”
His grip tightens as he fills me, warmth spurting through my depths, a welcome feeling to my tired, exhausted body. He collapses on top of me, stroking my hair, his gasps echoing in my ear.
I opened my eyes with a gasp of my own, suddenly realizing that Mason was still staring at me. I consciously loosened the fists I had made, again smoothing out my dress. Crossing my legs, I suddenly wished I had worn nylons to soak up the sweat now coating my thighs.
He leaned back in his chair, watching me. I tried to determine what the look in his eyes meant; they seemed to dance, but then, they had since the first time I had met him. I couldn’t see his lower half because of the desk, but I wondered if by some crazy chance he had gotten as turned on as I felt. I realized that was a silly thought; I had hardly told him anything about my fantasy. My mind, my unconscious, had done most of the work.
I felt like a fool.
I anxiously smoothed out my hair with my still sweaty palms, waiting for him to say something. He didn’t oblige me right away. Perhaps he took delight in my embarrassment; I couldn’t tell. He just sat there, calm, waiting for something.
My cheeks grew hot. I glanced over at the camera; it was still recording. Why had I let him record me? I could only imagine how I had looked as my fantasy had played out, much too vividly, through my mind. Again I looked at Mason.
“That was good,” he finally said, his voice quiet. “Perfect, really. Better than anything I’ve ever heard before.”
