by Alexa Riley
When I got back home tonight and saw she wasn’t there, I panicked. I tore through the house calling her name, but then I realized where she went. I found her cuddled up with her grandfather, both of them sleeping soundly.
I push away from the door, walking over quietly and brushing her cheek with the back of my hand. When her eyes open, she smiles up at me, then she blinks a few times in confusion.
“Mason?” she asks in a whisper, as if she can’t believe I’m here.
“Let’s go home, sweetie. Let him get some rest.” I motion to her grandfather, and she nods.
Before she takes my hand, she leans over and gives him a kiss on the cheek. After that, she lets me pull her away. She takes a couple of steps and leans into me, clearly still tired.
I reach down, put my arm around the back of her legs, and scoop her up in my arms. For a second I think she’s going to protest, but she melts against me and closes her eyes. I kiss her forehead and carry her out to the waiting car, needing to have her in my bed.
I hold her in my arms on the car ride home, brushing my lips across her face all the while. I feel like I can’t stop touching her, and I don’t know how to stop myself.
Once we arrive, the driver opens my door and I carry Kennedy the rest of the way up and into our bedroom. Our bedroom. Fuck, I love the sound of that. It makes all my possessive and protective instincts push forward. I have to own her. Every inch.
But tonight she’s soft and sweet in my arms, and she feels so young and delicate.
I place her on the bed, and she hardly moves as I remove her dress and panties. I strip her bare, and she lies there on my sheets, a perfect young body to warm me.
I want to move between her legs and bury my cock inside her warm cunt. Reaching down, I push her legs apart and get a better view of what’s mine now. What I’ve bought and paid for. There’s a small patch of short hair between her thighs, and her pink opening is so tight and small. But I know that her being an escort means she has been with plenty of men, so I’m sure she’ll take me just fine. I grit my teeth and pull the blanket over her, covering up her body. I can’t stand the thought of another man touching what’s mine.
I strip off my clothes and slide into the cool sheets beside her, but I don’t reach for her. Instead, I pull the blanket away from her body again and start stroking my cock. I’ll give her tonight to sleep, but I’m still using her for my pleasure. I look down at her naked tits and fist my cock tighter. I thrust up and down on my shaft in a punishing rhythm, looking over every young inch of her.
When I’m close to the edge, I use my other hand to cup the tip of my cock and catch all my cum. I release into the palm of my hand and create a little pool of my thick warm seed. Sitting up, I bring the hand full of cum to her pussy and release the seed all over her. I rub my cum on her tiny pink clit, her puffy lips, and push some inside her. I feel her clench on my fingers as I do it, and I decide to get her off, too. Just a baby one while she sleeps.
I don’t touch her anywhere else, though my mouth aches to suck her tits. Instead, I use my warm cum to slick her clit and rub in circles. It takes only a few moments for her to let out a soft moan as she clamps around my hand. A perfect little orgasm for my baby girl while she sleeps.
My palm is sticky with her release and my own, so I put it to my mouth and lick it clean. The taste of us together is enough to make me want to jerk off again, but I restrain myself. I reach for her, pulling her back to my front and holding her as close to me as possible. I let the ridge of my cock settle between her legs, and I feel her wet warmth against it.
I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight with the ache in my cock, but I let out a contented breath just being next to her. I know she won’t go anywhere now. She’s exactly where she’s going to stay for as long as I want her. I wonder if she’s ready for just how long that is.
Chapter Eight
Kennedy
I shoot up from the bed, not remembering where I am. Then I see the scattered shopping bags and boxes from the day before. The light from the bathroom spills into the room as the day before flashes through my mind. Mason bringing me back here and putting me into bed. Mason doing other delicious things to me and making me fall into a deep, restful sleep. All of my worries slipped away last night. For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. Grandpa went to bed remembering who I was…
But all too soon, reality bleeds back in. A lump forms in my throat as I think about how Mason found me. I never planned to tell him about my grandpa. I never really meant to tell him anything about me at all, but after less than twenty-four hours in his employ, I’m guessing he knows everything now.
He has to if he found me last night. Not that I was hiding. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. I hoped to return before Mason got back. All of it makes me feel like I’ve lost a little bit of power. Now he knows everything, how dire my situation really is and how I have no other options. He could do anything with me and I wouldn’t leave. Would he abuse that power?
I glance at his side of the bed. I know he slept on it for part of last night. The other part, he'd slept on me. Caging me like I might try to slip away in the night. Looking over at the clock, I see it’s already ten o’clock. It makes me fly from the bed, stumbling over one of many shoe boxes and almost face planting on the carpet.
I can’t believe I slept this late. I never sleep this late. The big, heavy drapes cover the windows and block out all light. Crap, I wonder if I’ll be in trouble. I should be at work right now. Why didn’t he wake me when he got up? I head straight for the bathroom but stop when I see a note sitting on the counter.
Don’t shower. I’ll be back for you later.
I hold the letter in my hand and read it over and over again, still wondering if I’m in trouble. The note really gives me nothing, but between not being home in bed last night like he’d told me to be, and now being late this morning, I’m guessing the odds are he’s pissed. I drop the note back down on the counter and rush through my normal routine, omitting the shower like he said.
Going back out to the piles of shopping bags, I start digging for another dress I know I can wear flats with. I don’t want my feet to die on the four-block walk over to Mason’s office building. I settle on a soft pink one with no sleeves and a slim white belt to go around the waist. I slide on some white ballet flats with little bows on the tops, hoping it looks okay for the office. I top it off with a thin white headband with a tiny pink bow on it. I should probably clean up the mess, but I decide on doing it when I get back from work.
I know he told me he would come back for me later, but maybe if I show up, he won’t be so upset about my tardiness. I stop suddenly when I see all the contents of my apartment taking up Mason’s living room. It looks completely out of place with his stuff. It shows how different we are. A lot of my furniture came from my grandpa's house, some of it he'd actually made himself. I walk over to one of the open boxes and see my drawing books. I wonder if Mason went through my stuff.
I cringe. God, it’s like my life exploded all over his. I’m going to be freaking lucky if he doesn’t fire me. I dash to the kitchen and grab two muffins I see sitting on the counter before heading out the front door.
I see a man in a dark suit out in the hallway. He pushes away from the wall and comes to his full height as his eyes train on me. An awkward silence fills the air.
“Hi,” I say before turning and hitting the button for the elevator.
“Ma’am,” I hear him say from behind me. I turn my head to look back at him and find that he came to stand behind me. He’s not looking at me, but down at his phone, typing something in. I wonder what the heck he’s doing. It was almost like he was waiting for me. I don't say anything, not wanting to be rude. Maybe he lives in the building.
He’s not a tall man, maybe five-eleven, which doesn’t seem so big after having Mason in my space. Mason’s more than a few inches over six foot. But what this man doesn’t have in h
eight, he has in muscles. He looks like someone who used to wrestle, I think absently. His gray hair streaks over his once-solid black hair. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s in his early fifties.
The elevator dings, and he follows me on, hitting the button for both of us. When I step out, he follows me out the building and down the street. I start walking faster, unsure what the heck is going on.
“Miss Myers.” When he says my name, I stop and turn, and he almost runs into me. “I’m your security. No need to be scared of me.”
“Security?”
“Seems you like to wander. I’m here to make sure you don’t wander into trouble.”
“I don’t wander,” I fire back. He raises his eyebrows and smiles.
“Just doing my job, ma’am.”
His easy smile forces me to release the tension in my shoulders. Sometimes things would get a little scary when I walked home to my old apartment. It wasn’t in the nicest neighborhood. Heck, sometimes I didn’t even feel safe in my apartment.
That’s when it hits me. Why I slept so late. I hadn’t slept that good in as long as I could remember. Not since before my grandpa starting having his episodes.
I felt safe for the first time in what felt like an eternity, and that makes me smile back at the man.
I reach out, handing him one of the two muffins I’d grabbed from Mason’s kitchen. His smile grows. “I’m Kennedy, but I’m sure you know that already.”
“Brock,” he tells me, taking the muffin. “That’s awful sweet of you, ma’am.”
“How long did you stand outside the door this morning?” I ask as I turn and head towards Mason’s building.
“Mr. Foster called me around five.”
“Well, you must be hungry.” I take a bite of my muffin and he takes a bite of his. We make small talk as we walk to the office. I learn that Brock moved here six months ago when he got the job and is new to the city. I recommend a few local restaurants and cafes.
“So you don’t think he’s mad I’m late?” I ask, wondering if he has any information to clue me in.
“Said he had a few meetings to get to,” Brock says as we step off the elevator and onto our floor. Crap, that was probably something I should've known. I didn’t actually do any work yesterday, unless getting Mason off counted as work, and I’m guessing it does. The pit in my stomach comes back at the reminder of why I’m here. I didn’t spend the night in a boyfriend's bed.
I swallow the little lump in my throat, knowing this is going to be bad for me. I clearly get attached too quickly. It’s like the time Ben from second grade asked me to be his girlfriend and dumped me two days later. I remember crying to my grandpa for three days. One day longer than we were actually together. I didn’t even like him. He was always licking glue off his fingers and laughing about it. Somehow he still ended up as prom king when we graduated.
I shake the silly thoughts from my head. I watch Mason come out of his office, looking as good as he always does. The gray suit fits him so perfectly I wouldn't be shocked if someone told me he was born in it. Then I notice a stunning blonde with him. She looks like she’s ready to walk a runway.
A tight pencil skirt shows off her long legs, and it’s clear she has no problem getting into the thing. Her lips are painted red, reminding me I didn’t put on a speck of makeup this morning.
“I told you to wait at home,” Mason says, hurrying over towards me. The blonde follows him closely.
“I didn’t want to be any later.”
“This is your new assistant? You replaced me with her?” the blonde squeals, a look of murder crossing her face as her eyes narrow on me. She must be his last mistress…or assistant… Heck, I don’t even know what to call us. “She looks like she should be in high school.”
I look down at my pink dress. I thought it looked nice. But I do have my backpack on once again. I can’t seem to part with the thing. My grandpa gave it to me.
“See her out.” Mason nods to Brock. The blonde has clearly been dismissed.
Brock does as he asks and steps back a little, giving the woman room to walk between us. She huffs before heading towards the elevator. I watch as Brock looks over at Helen, who is standing at her desk. Their eyes lock, and she blushes as Brock gives her a little wink.
“Thank you, Brock,” I tell him. I should thank him, right? He walked me to work. I don’t know the protocol here.
“Thank you for breakfast,” he says back.
I feel Mason’s hand lock around my arm, pulling me into his body.
“You two had breakfast? What are you thanking him for?” He fires off the questions as he leans down next to my ear. “Did he fucking touch you?” He growls the last part, making me turn to look at him. I hear the ding of the elevator as my eyes meet his.
“No, he didn’t touch me,” I say.
His eyes are intense, and my body does the same thing it always does when he gets that hard look. I know what’s coming as he drags me into his office, slamming the door shut behind us. Sealing us in.
Chapter Nine
Mason
“You mind telling me what that was about?” Heat rises up my neck, and I know I have no right to be jealous. But I am. I can’t stop the jealousy coursing through my body. This feeling is all too new to me, and I have no idea how to handle it or deal with it.
Brock isn’t someone who should be a threat to me. He’s old enough to be her father. But she’s the kind of woman that looks so innocent and sweet that any man would want her, no matter his age. I remind myself that he and Helen have something going on and that Kennedy is mine. But my claim to her is flimsy. I need to change that. Quick. I know just the way to do it. Her round with my child will show everyone how mine she is, and I need to make that happen now. Bind her to me in every way possible so she can never leave me.
She twists her fingers together and looks at the floor. “He was nice to me on the way to work, so I gave him one of the two muffins I took from your kitchen. I hope that was okay.” She sticks out her lower lip a little, and I want to suck it into my mouth. Bite it.
I take a step towards her and wait for her to look up to me. If I touch her now, I won’t be able to control myself. After a moment, her bright eyes meet mine, and I try to soften my face. I don’t want to scare her. I need her to fall for me. I want her to be here because she wants it, not just because she’s paid to be.
“That’s okay, sweetie. I just feel very protective of you.” I brush away a stray hair, careful not to touch her skin. I notice her headband with the bow. So fucking innocent. I don’t know how she got herself wrapped up in this, selling her little body to bastards like me. We shouldn’t even have the right to look at her.
She nods and gives me a small smile.
“One muffin isn’t near enough. I’ll order some food and you can eat.”
Stepping away, I grab my phone and make a call. Afterwards, Kennedy sits down in the seat in front of my desk and we go over my calendar. I’m trying to do anything I can to stop thinking about taking her on the floor, making her scream out my name so everyone in the fucking building knows she’s mine and I can get this jealousy under control. I have to, because I know if I do that, I’ll only get pissed people heard her cumming for me.
I explain the system that I’m struggling to use, and she beams. It’s one that she is familiar with. I sigh in happy relief as she comes around my desk and shows me what I’m doing wrong.
“When did you use this program?” I ask, wanting to know everything about her, all her details that make her who she is.
“It’s actually one I used at a restaurant I used to work at.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “They always had a long reservation wait, so we used this to schedule tables. They used me as a hostess sometimes and I picked it up really quick.”
Pride grows in my chest. “You’re very smart. This isn’t easy to use, and I’ve been through a dozen admins that couldn’t get it.”
She blushes at my compliment. “I did well in
school.”
I don’t ask her which school, because we both know she means high school. If she’s remotely close to twenty, I’ll sell my company on eBay.
I lean in closer, wanting to have her lips on mine. Just as I do, there is a knock on the door. “That will be your breakfast,” I say, kissing her on the tip of her nose.
It’s not exactly what I wanted, but it’s enough for now. I stand up and adjust my cock, because being this close to her is always painful. When I’m within touching distance of her, he can’t seem to stop wanting to bury himself in one of her warm, wet places.
There is an older woman delivering the food today, and I’m happy to note that the cafeteria staff here got the memo I sent. I don’t want other men in here with Kennedy. Brock is enough to have my mind racing, and I know he has no interest in her.
Once the woman leaves, I set the table for Kennedy and then sit down. This time I pat my lap and she walks over to me, sitting down on my leg gingerly. I grab her waist and pull her to me tightly, not liking the distance she is trying to maintain.
“You eat, and I’ll play,” I say, kissing her neck and letting my palm run over her body.
“Yes, Mason,” she breathes as her legs part slightly. My cock is throbbing at the sight. I know that she wants my touch. Welcomes it.
I wait until she takes a bite of food, and then I rub my hand up her thigh and to her stomach. “You need to eat more. You’re too thin. I want you to clean your plate today.”
Running my hand higher, I rub her breasts, feeling their softness under her dress. Her nipples harden and I can feel the tight buds through the material. I slip my hand down the top of her dress and cup one breast in my hand. I feel the weight of the soft flesh and pinch the tiny peak.
She moans at the touch, and I smile. “You like that?”
