by Jessica Marx
Kim glares at me, “how can I help you, Sam?” she pronounces my name with an obnoxious accent.
“I’m here to see Mmm…Mr. Grant,” I almost say ‘Mason’, but catch myself just in time.
“Oh, that’s right. He told me you would be coming by.”
Bitch. She totally knew I was coming. It’s her job. She just wanted to make me sweat. Jealous much, Kim?
“I’ll show myself to his office. I remember the way. Have a good night.” I know I will.
I stride over to Mason’s door like I own the place. I’m still a little anxious, but I don’t want Kim to know she got under my skin. I knock on the large double doors. I hear Mason’s voice on the other side telling me to come in. Good thing I saw Kim slide the door open last week or I wouldn’t even know how to open it.
I enter Mason’s office. He’s sitting behind his desk on the phone. He holds up his hand, signaling that he’s finishing up. I walk over to the corner and look out the window. Must be nice to look over the city like this every day. The view is incredible.
“Nice, right?” Mason asks after he hangs up the phone.
“Sure is. You must feel like the king of New York up here.”
“That would make you the queen,” he responds, sidling up behind me.
I close my eyes and smile. I love the way Mason feels against me. He makes me forget where I am - but only for a minute. I look over my shoulder to make sure his door is closed. It is.
“What are you looking for?” he asks.
“Just making sure the coast is clear.”
“You know I own this place, right? No one can stop you from being here except for me, and I’m not going to do that.” He kisses me lightly on the neck.
“It’s just…it’s weird. Your receptionist doesn’t seem happy I’m here. That’s for sure.”
“Kim?” Mason chuckles, “Kim doesn’t like any woman coming to my office. She’s very territorial.”
“Why is that?” I ask, “was she one of your flings?”
“No. I don’t date women in my office. Especially not one of my assistants.”
I turn around and roll my eyes, “seriously?”
“There’s an exception to every rule.” Mason takes a few steps back, “are you hungry?”
“Yup. Where are we going?”
“My place.”
The smile fades from my face, “your place?”
“Yes. I hope that’s okay,” Mason asks, concerned, “I can make other arrangements if you like.”
“No. It’s fine - great. Just not what I was expecting.”
None of this is anything I expected. This crazy whirlwind of a week is turning into much more than I could have ever imagined. The thought of being alone with Mason in his apartment both scares me and turns me on.
“Perfect. Shall we?” Mason holds out his arm. I loop mine through his and we leave the office.
I hope I don’t look as terrified as I feel. If anyone here sees the two of us, tomorrow will be a shit storm of questions and looks. Then there’s the small detail that we’re going to spend the next few hours alone. No interruptions. No one in the next room. Just us. Anything can happen - and I’m not going to lie - I’m ready for anything.
The town car pulls up to Mason’s building and I look up. The building is one of the older, original structures. There are plenty of glitzy new places, but this one has a vintage appeal. I never spent a lot of time in the Tribeca area, but I’ve heard a lot about it. I know from magazines that lots of celebrities live here. I also know I could never afford to live here on my own.
Dan opens my door and smiles at me as I get out of the back seat. I quickly wonder how many other woman he’s been through this same scene with. The thought flees my mind as fast as it entered. Mason gets out behind me and takes my hand.
“What time would you like me back, Mr. Grant?”
“You can enjoy the rest of your night, Dan. I’ll take care of Ms. Roberts.”
A shudder of anticipation rushes through me. I wonder if there’s a double meaning in what Mason says. Maybe I’m just hopeful that there is.
Mason leads me inside. The doorman greets him and tips his hat to me. The lobby is large and grand. The walls are lined with columns. The ceilings are tall and both have all sorts of carvings in them. I continue to look around as he guides me to the elevator.
“I love the architecture of this building. That’s one of the reasons I chose it.”
“Yes, it’s beautiful,” I reply, making conversation.
Mason holds my hand all the way up. He’s barely let me go since we left his office.
We arrive at the top floor - the penthouse. The elevator doors open, but there’s no hallway. The entire floor belongs to Mason. I step out behind him and my jaw drops.
Mason’s apartment is like something out of a magazine. It has the same modern, stark, monochrome style as his office. The room is surrounded by windows - also like his office. There is a balcony around the entire living area - at least as far as I can see. It’s hard enough to find a balcony that’s anything more than a fire escape, let alone one you can host a party on.
“This building used to be a factory of some sort,” Mason explains, putting his things and my bags down near the elevator.
He takes off his coat as he walks toward the kitchen and drapes it over the back of one of the white bar stools lining the kitchen island.
“This is amazing,” I comment, still looking around.
“Thanks. I’m glad you’re here. I don’t get too many visitors.”
“Oh, please,” I snort, “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of visitors,” I exaggerate the word.
“Not really. Occasional dinner parties for elite clients. My father, when he feels like stopping into town and doesn’t have a woman with him.”
“I’m sure you’ve had many lady friends here.”
“‘Lady friends’?” Mason laughs, “no. I very rarely bring women here.”
“Wow, I must be special. Another exception to one of your rules?”
“Yes. You are very special, Samantha.”
There he goes using my full name again. It doesn’t get old. It still makes my blood pump faster.
I take a seat at the breakfast bar. The exposed brick of the kitchen wall is the perfect contrast to the modern decor. I keep looking around, partly to take it all in, and partly to distract myself.
“Would you like a drink?” Mason offers.
“Sure. Whatever you’re having is fine.”
Mason uncorks a bottle of wine and pours two glasses. He then fills two glasses of water.
“I’m having both, so I suppose you are too.”
“What’s on the menu tonight?” I ask, taking a long drink of water.
“Not sure yet. Are you in the mood for anything special?”
You. “Not particularly.”
Mason opens one of the large refrigerator doors and removes a tray of cheeses and fruit. He places it on the counter and takes the cover off a pre plated assortment of crackers.
“Wow. Nice spread,” I joke, “did you just whip this up before work?”
Mason chuckles, “I had a few things delivered and stocked for us.”
I slice a piece of cheese and top a cracker with it, “mmm, that’s delicious. What?” I ask, noticing Mason staring at me.
“Nothing. I could just watch you all day.”
“Oh yeah, there’s nothing sexier than cheese and crackers,” I laugh, sipping some of the wine.
“Everything about you is sexy, Samantha,” Mason says in a noticeably seductive tone.
I swallow hard. He walks around the counter and spins my stool around so I’m facing him.
“I mean it. You’re sexy. Everything about you is captivating and I have not been able to stop thinking about you since you got here.”
“I’ve only been here a few minutes,” I reply nervously, but I know perfectly well what he means.
“No, silly girl, since you came back to N
ew York and walked into my office,” Mason takes my hands and gently pulls me up off the stool. Adrenaline is coursing through my body. Mason knows what he wants and he is not holding back. It’s extremely hot but also a little intimidating.
Mason stands in front of me and talks to me as he unbuttons my blouse, “I was thinking about how unfair I was to you yesterday in your kitchen. Now here we are in my kitchen. We can do whatever we want. Your mom isn’t here now.”
He removes my top and drapes it over over the stool I was sitting on. My nipples are hard and poking through the lace of my bra. I feel so exposed. Mason is just staring at me like he’s going to tear me apart.
“So tell me, Samantha,” Mason asks seductively, “what is it you want to do.” He unbuttons his own shirt exposing his perfectly sculpted muscular chest. He lays it over mine.
Oh. My. God. My knees feel like they’re going to give out, “I don’t know,” I reply timidly.
Mason reaches his arms around my torso, lightly pressing his body into mine as he does, and unzips the back of my skirt.
“Come on, Samantha, you must want something.”
My skirt falls to the floor. He presses his lips on my neck, and sucks gently. Then works his way down to my chest with gentle kisses. He extends his tongue out and licks the tip of my nipple through the lacy fabric while looking up at me.
Mason stands back up and unbuckles his belt. I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to be doing, but I can’t move. My body somehow feels like jello and fire at the same time.
He whips his belt out in one slick movement, folds it in half, and drags it slowly up my body. I get goosebumps from head to toe.
“You have nothing to say then?” Mason teases.
I shake my head.
“Well,” he starts, unbuttoning his pants, “yesterday, you seemed to like what I was doing.”
I nod.
“Don’t be shy, you can answer me.”
“I did.” I am so fucking turned on right now. I’m afraid I might explode if I open my mouth.
“I remember you very clearly saying ‘please’, correct?”
“Yes.”
Mason removes his slacks and folds them over another stool. His cock is completely hard and much bigger than I pictured, even after having it rubbed against me.
“What was it you wanted?”
I blush but I don’t think he can tell because I’m already red from the heat coursing through me.
“You.”
“You already have me, Samantha. I’m right here. I’m all yours. I think you know that. There must be something more that you want from me.”
I giggle nervously.
Mason looks me over, “you look fucking amazing right now.” He runs a hand over my panties. I suck in a deep breath.
“Would you like me to just guess what exactly it is that you want?”
I nod my head, “yes,” I whisper.
Mason narrows his eyes, a sly smirk on his lips. He takes my hand and places it on his erection. I wrap my fingers around his thickness and stroke him gently over his boxer briefs.
He stares at me, slipping a hand inside my panties. Then he slides a finger inside me.
“Mmm, you’re already wet for me, Samantha.”
I moan. He could just stand here and say my name in that voice and that would be all I need.
Mason continues to finger me and I stroke him harder. Feeling a little bolder, I remove his boxer briefs, exposing his cock. I gasp again. Seeing him naked like this, in front of me, is too much.
His smile broadens as I tug harder on his manhood, coaxing him toward me. I want him inside me so bad right now. I want to tell him but I’m too shy to say the words.
Mason leans in and kisses me - hard. He buries his tongue in my mouth and presses his body into mine, our hands working each other in rhythm. Our kiss is passionate and filled with longing and desire. I’m trying to tell Mason how much I want him without saying a word.
Suddenly, he grabs the back of my thighs and lifts me up. We continue to kiss. He places me gently onto one of the stools.
“Do you want to know what I want?” Mason whispers, breaking our kiss.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“I want to fuck you.”
Hearing that makes me gasp. Fuck. He is so hot. He really does know what I want. “Please. I need you. In me. Now,” I stammer breathlessly.
I lean back and he pulls my underwear off. He kisses me hard on the lips. I reach my hands to Mason’s chest and touch him all over. I’m so aroused It doesn’t matter what or where I’m touching, as long as my hands are on him. I pull him closer arching myself up to meet him.
Effortlessly, Mason slides himself inside me. I groan as he fills me completely. Every inch of him is inside of me, caressing my inner core. I wrap my arms around his back. Mason has one arm around the small of my back and one against the stool bracing himself.
He begins to grind into me, “You feel so fucking good, baby.”
Mason pumps harder and faster. I arch my hips up to meet him and he plunges deep inside me.
“Yes, yes,” I call. Mason already got me close enough to the edge, I don’t need much more.
He groans and thrusts himself in and out of me, using long, slow strokes now. I can feel him throbbing inside me and I know he’s right there with me.
Mason puts both arms around me and kisses me again. Our tongues are entwined together. I moan into his mouth. He presses himself all the way into me, and our bodies shudder simultaneously.
I grab onto him, my body shaking. I feel his warmth inside me. He moves slowly, holding me close, as we both release the years of sexual tension we’ve been holding back. It seems to come in waves for several moments until his body finally collapses onto mine.
Mason kisses me softly on the forehead and brushes my hair back before standing back up in front of me. Somehow, he looks even more gorgeous now than he did before.
I straighten myself up on the stool and smile up at him.
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“I have to admit, Samantha, that was more incredible than I thought it would be.”
“I love the way you say my name.”
“Samantha,” he repeats. Mason leans forward and kisses me softly, “Samantha,” he whispers in my ear. I giggle.
Mason picks his clothing up. I begin to collect mine. He pulls his boxer briefs back on, “hold on, don’t get dressed yet.”
He jogs out of the room and reappears seconds later with an armful of clothing, “I’m sure you don't want to put that hot little nine to five number back on,” he says, handing me a pair of sweats and a tee shirt.
“Thanks. I’m not sure they’ll fit though,” I reply, holding the pants up.
“Whatever. I’m sure they will be more comfortable anyway.”
I put Mason’s clothes on my body, inhaling a combination of his sweet, musky odor and fabric softener - eau du Mason - I love it.
“Hungry now?”
He’s standing at the other end of the breakfast counter in sweatpants and a fitted tee shirt. I’ve never seen him dressed down before. He looks just as sexy in sweats as he does in a suit.
“Starved.”
Mason opens the refrigerator, “what are you in the mood for?” he asks, rattling off several options his personal assistant must have dropped off earlier.
“Any one of those sounds fine.”
He removes each one of them from the fridge and lines everything up on the counter, then takes out two plates, “how about a little bit of everything?”
“Sounds perfect.”
We each load up a dish and heat them in the microwave. Mason refills our drinks and we sit back down at the counter to eat. We both must be starving because we start eating and don’t stop until our plates are half empty.
“I love the way you look in my clothing,” Mason says, taking a break to sip his water.
“Thanks. It’s cozy,” I smile, “I can change before I leave
.”
“Leave?”
“Yes. To go home later.”
“You can’t leave, Samantha.”
“Ever?” I ask, teasing.
“I might let you go home at some point, but you at least have to stay here tonight.”
“Tonight?” I repeat, “but I have work in the morning - and so do you.”
“Are you not allowed to have sleepovers on work days?” Mason teases.
“No. I mean, yes, but…I can’t show up tomorrow in the same clothes I wore today. I don’t have make up or - anything. I would have a lot of explaining to do.”
“Is that the only reason?” Mason asks. There is a hint of insecurity in his voice that I’ve never heard before.
“Yes.”
“I’ll take care of that for you.”
“How?”
“I just will. Don’t worry. Whatever you need, I will take care of it,” Mason assures me, “always,” he adds in a soft voice.
And I believe him.
I awake the next morning in Mason’s arms. I don’t move, just look around at the unfamiliar bedroom. Like the rest of the loft apartment, it’s like something out of a magazine.
The floor and lower part of the wall are black marble. The majority of the walls are window. There are thick gray curtains pulled halfway across to keep out the morning light. The bed itself is tall and cushy with soft blankets that we have pulled up over our naked bodies.
We stayed up late into the night making love again - and again. I’m finding it hard to believe that we’ve only been together for a short time. Everything with Mason feels so comfortable and so…right.
I feel him stir behind me. He pulls me in closer to him, “good morning, Samantha.”
“Morning,” I reply softly.
We lie there for a few minutes, until we have to get up and get ready for work.
“You can go ahead and shower, I’ll grab your clothes,” Mason offers, getting up out of bed.
“Okay,” I get up reluctantly. I have no idea what Mason is giving me to wear or where he’s getting it from, but we’ll see soon enough.
While I’m rinsing my hair in the shower, I notice Mason in the bathroom and suddenly feel shy.
“You better hurry up or I’m coming in - and then we’ll never get to work,” Mason warns.
I finish up and get out. Mason points to the bedroom, “clothes and essentials are on the bed.”
