A few hours later, my head spun with information overload. It was time to go home, but I had so much left to do. Mary was a hard taskmaster. I could now recite the entire company structure, operate a space station level phone system, and formulate Mason’s current schedule for the next six months. I was proud of what I’d accomplished, and I wanted to achieve even more.
The work consumed me, and I jumped at the sound of a voice interrupting my train of thought. “You’re not ready to quit on me, are you?” Mason stood tall and handsome, watching me from his office door. I could feel myself flushing yet again under his eye.
I fought to cool the heat building inside me. “No. Mary has been wonderful. She left a few minutes ago. I was just getting a few things to be ready for tomorrow morning.”
He walked toward my desk, a wolfish gleam in his eye. I felt his nearness as he stood over me, smelled his masculine scent. My mouth went dry, and I could feel my blood pulsing through me. I held my breath in anticipation.
Leaning forward he cupped my face in his large hand and gazed into my eyes. Tiny electric charges zipped through my body from his touch. Melting back into the black leather office chair, my lips parted and my breath escaped as barely a whisper. “Yes?”
He grinned. “When’s my first meeting?”
I blinked. What? Meeting? OH! “Ah, um, yes,” I stammered. “Your first meeting is at eight-thirty with the head of your gaming division. At ten-thirty, you meet the finance office. And at noon, you have lunch with a member of the board.” The words came tumbling out in a rush. His nearness rattled me. I couldn’t think with him so close, but close was where I wanted him.
He stood up, shifting away from me. “Thank you Ms. Hendrix. I will see you tomorrow at eight o’clock sharp.” And then he was gone, moving silently like a jungle cat. His power and magnetism followed him, leaving the room empty and me bereft.
Chapter 8
Mason
I wiped a film of sweat from my forehead. Working with her was magic, but when the work day ended and she left, it was torture to be without her.
Just the thought of Kinsey’s scent—jasmine, it must have been—made my throat constrict. I cleared it, and tried to catch my breath. In the office, my body’s reaction to her nearness was beyond my control. I was almost relieved whenever my phone rang or a crisis called for my attention. It put some space between us. I needed and dreaded that space.
At home, the space killed me. I sat staring at my cell phone, tapping my pen nervously, my leg jiggling. Where’s my usual cool, calm self? I wanted to call Kinsey. I wanted to hear how her day was. Screw that, I just wanted to hear her voice. What is happening to me?
Mark teased me mercilessly that I would never settle down. He loved to hear about my escapades and always called when he saw me in photos online with yet another woman. Being featured in People’s Sexiest Men edition last year had been great for my sex life, but not so helpful for forming any type of emotional attachment to a woman. I never knew when I met someone if they wanted me for me or wanted me for the man in the magazine. I never had any trouble getting my needs met. It came so easily sex had grown rather boring.
Of course, Mark laughed when I complained. Married for five years with six-month-old twins, his sex life was non-existent. His wife, exhausted by the constant nursing and lack of sleep, was a hard no in that department. She was also adamant that Mark would help and that their kids wouldn’t be raised by a nannies and babysitters like Mark and I were. Well, like we were until Dad died. Anyway, all that work meant that he wasn’t getting any, and he envied my unlimited supply. He didn’t realize how quickly it grew old.
The women I met were all smoking hot, and they would all do anything I asked. I was bored out of my skull with the beauty queen buffet. Kinsey was a different kind of delicious. She was unique. She wanted more—a degree, a profession, a life of her own, not just a next to a rich husband at society dinner parties. She wanted more than just… me.
Kinsey changed the game on me. There I was, as nervous as a teenager about to call his first crush. Instead of dodging phone calls, I was searching for the courage to pick up the phone and call her. What am I doing?
I only lasted a few nights before I just couldn’t take it anymore. I missed her when she wasn’t near. I wanted to be with her.
Fumbling to pick up my phone, I dropped my pen and watched as it rolled across the glass top of my desk and fell to the plush cream carpet. Bending down to retrieve it, I bumped my head on the underside of my desk. Cursing, I rubbed the spot. What is wrong with me???!!!
The anxiety made me angry, which gave me enough courage to pick up the phone. I was going to call Kinsey. She was going to prove to be just like every other woman—pretty on the outside, empty on inside. I was going to see her for who she really was and get this fascination out of my system once and for all. I stabbed the call button with my finger and listened as it rang.
“Hello?” Kinsey’s melodic voice answered on the first ring.
“Ah… hi. Um… it’s me, Mason.”
“Oh, Mason! Sorry. I didn’t recognize the number.”
“I apologize for calling so late, but I… um…” I scrambled to come up with a good excuse for calling. I should have thought of that before I’d dialed. A thousand ideas came to me at once, but only one would bring me closer to her.
“Mason?”
I cleared my throat. “I think we need to go shopping. I, uh, noticed you’ve been wearing the same thing almost every day, and I realized with college and all… well, you might not have what you need.” I stammered and stuttered my way through.
It wasn’t just an excuse. I noticed everything about Kinsey, and her clothes were no exception. She needed a wardrobe more appropriate for the office. She deserved the only the finest designer clothes, and I was eager to get them for her. Except, I kept picturing her out of them.
“Sorry,” she said. “You caught me in the middle of studying for my last final. What did you have in mind? You want to take me shopping?” I pictured her with her hair in a messy bun, one pen stuck in the back of it, chewing on the end of another as she made notes in the margins of her textbook. ”Mason, that makes no sense. Why?”
“I think you need a few more things for work. You need to make a great impression on my clients as they walk in. We are an elite company, and you work for the boss.” What reasoning would she accept? “I know you haven’t gotten paid yet because you’ve only been with us a week, so until you can shop for yourself, I want to get you a few things.”
Silence stretched across the phone lines. I could hear Kinsey breathing, but she wasn’t saying anything. Had I overplayed my hand? It was true, she did need office wear, but I really just wanted an excuse to spend time with her.
“All right.” She sounded unconvinced, but I took the yes. “But just a few things.”
Victory!
“And you take the cost out of my first check.” Of course she had to have the last word.
I didn’t care. I’d won.
Bap! Lunging, I stretched to reach the ball flying toward me, and barely caught it with the last inch of the racquet. Fwap! I volleyed it back. Bap! It bounced off the wall again, flying toward Noah.
Back-and-forth the ball spun from one racquet, off the wall, to the other racquet, and back. It created an exhausting rhythm, and we danced to its beat. Beads of sweat dripped from my nose and soaked my shirt, making it stick to my skin as I thrust and parried. Noah played with a violent swing that occasionally snuck one past me and hit the ground just beyond my reach.
“That’s it. I’m done. You?” He collapsed in a wet, smelly heap against the wall of the racquetball court and let his racquet fall to the floor beside him.
“I thought you’d never ask.” I eased down next to him and leaned my head back, eyes closed. We had just spent a non-stop 45 minutes playing racquetball in the basement gym at his office, and after a long day of work, I was spent.
“I’m getting too old for this.�
�� At 47 Noah was in phenomenal shape, but he never missed an opportunity to point out his elder status or share his wisdom. It’s how we became friends, after all. He’d sit at the head of the dinner table, expounding on his company’s latest developments, and marketing strategies while we listened and learned. First Mark was his student, and then it was my turn. I soaked in all the information he shared. I would never have been able to start my own company without our chats over coq a vin with gin and tonics.
“Hah! You and me both. I just met this girl...” I paused. Do I want to go there with Noah?
Noah rolled his head against the wall to look at me. “A young one? Yes?” A devilish smile crossed his face. “She wearing you out?”
I had never been afraid to talk about women with Noah before, but this was Kinsey, his daughter. It just felt dangerous. “Yeah, she’s younger. Still in college.”
“Good luck,” Noah laughed. “Always best to pick a groupie, Mason. They know the ropes and have no expectations. College girls are clingy. You want marriage, go the debutant route.”
“No. This one’s different.” I thought about how to phrase it. “She’s special.”
“They all are, Mason. They all are.” Noah lurched to his feet. “I’m gonna hit the showers. I’ve got an early call with London in the morning. Good luck with your new lady.”
I nodded. “Good luck with London.”
Noah left the court before I could say anything I’d regret. A wave of relief washed over me.
Chapter 9
Mason
This was a bad idea. Stupid. She’s gonna see right through me.
What had felt like a great idea when I’d asked her, suddenly felt like a pathetic trick to win over a pretty girl. I hadn’t been this nervous about a girl since I was fourteen and asked Cindy Johnson to homecoming. Of course, back then I was a freshman, barely five-foot-five, had braces and acne, and my voice still squeaked. The summer between freshman and sophomore year, I matured, and my life changed. By senior year, I was six-foot-four and starting receiver for my high school football team. I’d never felt nervous again… until Kinsey.
With her, all those insecurities came rushing back. I never should have offered her the job. I don’t know how I am going to work with her every day, see her sitting at that desk. She made me feel like a teenager just discovering my first crush.
I shook my head; I had to focus. She was all woman with her long legs, taut physique, and a smile that could bring a man to his knees. My body’s response to her was beyond my control.
I moved swiftly down the hall, into the elevator, and down to the lobby. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought I was running away. Over the years, I had successfully avoided the entanglements of relationships. Work had always been my sanctuary. By hiring Kinsey, I’d made it my own personal torture chamber.
Not too far from the office was a row of high-end boutique clothing shops awaited me. After a morning full of meetings, I’d called and told Kinsey to meet me there. She’d sighed and agreed, but only after I reminded her how much she needed new clothes. She had a few good things, but not nearly enough for a busy Monday-through-Friday schedule.
She needs a few paychecks under her belt, I told myself while I waited outside the dressing room. She can’t even begin to afford new clothes yet. This is for her. I bought that line, but she didn’t.
“I really don’t need all this, Mason. I’ll never be able to pay you back.” Protesting loudly, Kinsey came and sat next to me after modeling the fourth or fifth outfit of the day. “Let’s just get two or three outfits that I can mix and match. My entire first paycheck won’t cover all this.”
“Kinsey,” I started, taking her hand and turning her to face me. I sucked in my breath at that immediate connection I felt every time I touched her. “You are the executive assistant to the CEO of Phantomfire Media. You have to dress the part.”
She still didn’t look convinced, but she nodded. I paid for the clothes, led her out of the store, and we continued down the sidewalk.
We were met at the door of the first boutique by a tall, thin saleswoman who could have doubled for a runway model. Her high cheekbones, flat-chest, and pencil thin waist normally would have set my heart racing and sent my blood south. Today, though, she bored me. Kinsey’s petite form and lush curves held my complete attention.
“How may I help you today, Mr. Alexander?” the saleswoman asked.
I pressed my hand against Kinsey, moving her forward despite her hesitation. “She needs the works:” I said. “Office wear, black tie, entertaining. Clothe her from the skin out.”
Kinsey’s jaw dropped. “Mason, that’s too much! We just talked about this!” She turned to me, frustrated. “How about just enough for three days? I have a washer. I don’t need new underwear.”
The saleswoman looked to me, and I nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Outerwear only.”
We continued on into the sitting area and strolled across the cream carpet, past the occasional orchid, to the matching cream couches. The only other people in the shop were mannequins, and even they weren’t quite as tall as the saleswoman who, after serving us two flutes of bubbly, top-shelf champagne, got straight down to business.
“This way.” She led Kinsey to a hidden fitting room and ushered her inside. Then, she began to trot back-and-forth from the racks to Kinsey, selecting new fashions, discarding Kinsey’s rejects. She cycled Kinsey through outfit after outfit, only leading her out occasionally for my approval before taking her back for more. I could see Kinsey biting her tongue, wrinkling her brow, and I knew it was only a matter of time until she finally exploded.
“That’s enough!” She sputtered, looking cute as a button with her hands on hips as she ended the fashion show. “We pick from these! I’m not trying on one more thing!”
Kinsey
I don’t know what I thought shopping with Mason would be like, but it was ten times worse than I could have imagined. ‘Cruella,’ my secret name for the size-zero saleswoman, had fun trying to stuff my size-six backside into the smallest clothes she could find. I know she did it just to torture me.
For the gazillionth time, she stuffed me into yet another classy dress and fitted jacket, and paraded me before Mason. His eyes sparked, and I watched as his nostrils flared.
I finally put my foot down and called a halt to the charade. He wasn’t going to let me get away with paying for all this, and I knew it. When I declared I was done, he tried to hide a snort and chuckle by pretending to take another sip of that awful champagne.
“We’ll take that one too.” He quirked up one side of his mouth in a half smile, nodding briefly at Cruella before his eyes returned to me. “You look beautiful, Kinsey.” And at this, the most handsome smile lit up his face, making him even more irresistible. When he smiled at me like that, I melted. A goofy smile snuck across my face, and my brain wanted to say yes to whatever he asked of me. I had to keep reminding myself I didn’t need him to take care of me. I couldn’t help that I wanted him to.
Turning back to the saleswoman, he continued. “She will wear this one out. Please box up everything else and have it delivered to this address.” Standing up and straightening his suit coat, he pulled a business card from his interior pocket and handed it to her.
I ran my hands down the dress and stared at myself in the shop’s floor-to-ceiling mirror. The maroon skirt attached to a scooped V-neck that encased my breasts and ended in a high-waisted look. Long black sleeves started above my collarbone, outlined my chest, and then continued in a black stripe down each side of my body, complimenting my curves. It was beautiful. So were the dozen other outfits he had chosen for me.
I blushed just thinking about the silky, filmy underthings the saleswoman was boxing up and sending to the office. Mason won that round, but I was determined to resist next time. I didn’t know what he wanted from me, but wanted more than a man than a fat wallet and hefty bank account. I wanted to finish college and establish myself. I was not going to
be a kept woman.
Besides, Mason was off limits. I worked for him, and he was friends with my father. Those were two big strikes against him.
Walking out of the boutique, I shivered at the secret thrill that rushed through me. I sashayed to the car, delighted by the feel of my new gossamer panty set, lighter than air as I moved.
I wonder if Mason pictured me in these as he sat there.
Pulling up to the curb in front of the office building, the limo came to a gentle stop. I watched through the tinted window as the doorman came out of the building and stood by the door, ready to open it when we emerged.
“Kinsey.” Mason groaned out my name in one slow moan that was filled with such longing I lost myself in it. “Come here.”
As if I was outside my body, I watched myself move. Even while I told myself to resist, I felt myself sliding over to sit next to him. Before I could settle onto the leather seat, he gathered me in his arms, pulled me onto his lap, and lowered his head. Without warning, his lips brushed mine, the kiss so gentle I barely felt it. I melted into his arms, and he kissed me again. The hunger on his lips filled me with need. I whimpered, my arms wrapping around him as I tried to climb inside his skin. I had dreamt of this moment for years, and it was so much better than I’d imagined.
He cradled my head as his lips met mine for a third time, I could feel his member swelling as he pulled me closer. He laid feather-soft kisses on my eyelids and nose, but then he hesitated as if arguing with himself. Finally he pressed his mouth to mine again.
I didn’t want it to end, but he suddenly set me back down on the seat, out of breath, grimacing as he adjusted himself in his pants. “We can’t do this,” he said.
Lifting my trembling fingers to touch my swollen lips, I could still feel the lingering echo of his kiss.
Mason: The Lost Billionaires, Book 1 Page 6
