KYLE: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 4) (99 page)

“What made you assume that I wouldn’t be up for experimenting?”

That was not what he was expecting. That was three times in one afternoon she had surprised him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “I’m not sure, and I feel like that question may be a bit loaded.”

“No. I really want an honest answer. I hadn’t ever considered myself close-minded or a prude, so I want to know.” She leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees. Mason’s sightline went right down the front of her shirt.

“I had this image of you in my head as the sweet, virginal bride. I know you were most definitely not a virgin,” Laura smacked his thigh, “but I had a hard time imagining you being into something a little… eccentric.” He felt like an idiot. This whole situation was stupid and completely avoidable… and was all his fault. He kicked himself for not being man enough to just have a conversation with her in the first place.

“I would have said yes, you know,” she said, her voice getting husky. Laura subtly pressed her breasts together. She knew this was neither the time nor the place, but despite the mess and the amount of time gone by, she still liked him, and after the way he’d touched her, actually wanted him very badly.

Mason’s face lit up. She hadn’t quite forgiven him, but the chance was there. He hoped to make something out of it. “Well, Miss Ross, I do believe that concludes this interview.”

Laura looked confused until she saw the door to the room open a crack. She caught a glimpse of a cell phone ready to snap a photo at a moment’s notice. “Thank you so much for your time, Mr. Decker, and for answering all of my questions. I’ll be in touch when the story is set to run so you can sign the release.” She stood and shook Mason’s hand before gathering her things to leave. Their server had miraculously reappeared with the check.

Mason blindly handed her his card as he watched Laura walk away. She was supposed to have been his all this time, and he was determined to correct what had happened.

Laura returned to work the next day more confused than she had ever been in her life. She passed the flash drive off to her department editor and disappeared into her office. She had spent the night before listening to the interview on repeat just to wrap herself in the velvety tone of his voice and to swoon over his accent.

She took the time to edit out the last couple of questions she’d asked; there was no need for anyone to know about Mason’s tendency toward kink.

A knock shook her door. She opened it to discover Frank standing there. “Hey, baby. You have plans for tonight?”

Laura really wasn’t super excited to see him at the moment. “I’m going to call it a Netflix and pizza night tonight. I’m not in the mood for company. Sorry.”

“Sounds good. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He bent down to kiss her. She returned it, but without her usual enthusiasm.

She’d told herself when she got up that morning to just focus on her work. The day before had been a fluke, and she doubted she would see him again, since she’d gone out of her way to humiliate him.

She flipped her computer on and got organized while silently berating herself for that spectacular lapse in judgment. Her inbox had a hundred messages to answer, mostly from Daniel. She scanned through those and would just go meet up with him about what he wanted later. An unknown email address caught her attention.

There was nothing in the subject line, but the message was from
[email protected]
. She gaped at the screen; the tiny arrow hovering over the link dared her to open it. She closed out the window instead. She was not ready for this.

It had taken her ages to get over him and get her life together, and now here he was, just dumped back into her life as a glaring reminder of a broken relationship. “Nope. Not gonna do it. No way,” she told herself. Lunch had been flirty, but she had no intention of going there with him. Or that’s what she kept telling herself.

She picked up her notes and decided to go drop in on Daniel. She knew the temptation to open that email would be impossible to resist; killing a couple of hours chewing the fat with Daniel was a surefire way to distract and bore her.

Laura returned to her office at lunch to find a package on her desk. It was small, solid, and wrapped in brown paper. There was no return address printed, but she had a feeling she knew who it was from.

“Just open it. Then send it back,” she told herself as she tore the paper off. She burst out laughing at the cover. Mason had sent her a book on raising pigs. He had remembered her favorite animal. She sat and thumbed through the pages, admiring the beautiful photography, until she came to the chapter on castration.

On the first page was a pink Post-It with just two words on it: See me – M. She put the book down and had a giggle. She appreciated the humor; the pig symbolism wasn’t lost on her either. She woke up her computer hoping that she wouldn’t find anything scandalous after opening his email. He’d sent it to her interoffice address, which was monitored.

She held her breath, unsure of what to expect, and clicked the message link. She relaxed when she saw there was nothing dirty or alarming, just an address:

285 Central Park W

# 12

7pm

***

Of course his address overlooked Central Park. Of course the man she was once supposed to marry turned out to be a gorgeous, successful, billionaire tech tycoon. Of course she should be running in the other direction because he was an alpha with a fetish. Her life had just become a romance novel cliché.

And, like a dummy, she was going to go through with it with the hope that, now that they both had experience and hopefully some maturity behind them, they could handle themselves like goddamn adults. Laura shook her head. She didn’t have much faith in them.

Laura dove headfirst into her rewrites. They were extensive. Judging by the notes on one, Daniel obviously regretted assigning her to write about the Trump campaign.

She was so consumed in her work she hadn’t realized it was nearly six-thirty. She dashed to the bathroom to do a quick retouch and braid her hair back. The weather looked overcast, and a film of mist had settled on the window outside. She added a second coat of mascara to make her blue eyes pop and dashed out the door.

There was no point in trying to get a cab; the streets were a parking lot this time of the day, and the walk would take her less than fifteen minutes from her office, closer to ten if she booked it.

She came up quickly on the St. Urban building and slowed when it came into view. She needed a chance to catch her breath. She stopped at the stoop and checked her watch: five ‘til. She’d made it on time.

She steeled her nerves and approached the doorman.

***

Mason was on pins and needles all day waiting to find out if Laura would come. He hadn’t received a response from her regarding the email or the book. The silence was killing him.

His phone rang, and he hoped it was the front desk. “Yes?”

“Mr. Decker, there’s a Ms. Ross here to see you. Are you expecting her?”

“Yes, please send her up.”

Laura got on the elevator with the doorman, who tried to make pleasant conversation. “So, how long you known Mr. Decker?”

“Oh, about ten years.” Her voice sounded clipped to her own ears. She didn’t want her nerves to come off as rudeness.

“Wow. How come we haven’t seen you around here before? Mr. Decker bought his place when the market crashed, uh, seven – no – eight years ago.”

Laura was willing the elevator to go faster. She was not in the mood to make small talk. “I’m an old friend from before he moved here from in Western Mass.” Finally the elevator stopped and the doors popped open. She thanked the doorman and set off in the direction of his apartment. She paused at his door to smooth her hair back off her face and straighten her clothes.

She knocked twice, and immediately the door opened. Mason was standing in the foyer, barefoot, in worn jeans and a vintage t-shirt from a 1980s Specials tour. He radiated warmth and familiarity.

Mason broke out in a huge smile. He was so relieved she had shown up. Laura wore another pencil skirt that clung to the curve of her hips. High black patent leather pumps displayed the muscles in her slim legs. His eyes feasted on every inch of her

Laura smiled at him shyly. She was suddenly seized by insecurity. The look he gave was equal parts predator and sex.

“Come in, Laura. Make yourself at home. I have some wine chilling in the parlor.” He took her coat. His fingertips grazed her shoulders as he pushed the trench off, her skin prickling in response. Laura’s breath hitched. She didn’t think they would make it to the parlor, at least not for wine.

She turned to face him. Mason skimmed his hand up her neck, curling his fingers in the hair at her nape. Laura felt her pulse speed up. She looked up into his eyes and saw something behind them she hadn’t seen in a man since they split: tenderness, longing, whatever you call it, it was all there in Mason’s gaze.

The last vestiges of fear and restraint slipped away when Mason drew her in for a kiss.

Laura had forgotten how soft and skilled his lips were. His tongue brushed over hers. He was gentle, loving; she wasn’t sure how to feel about it besides she knew she needed him.

She reciprocated his kiss. This was her way of forgiving him. Laura needed that connection, needed to feel something besides loathing for him again.

Mason pushed her against the wall, his hands exploring the smoothness of her skin, becoming reacquainted with her body. Laura wrapped her arms around Mason’s neck; the need to be close to him was overwhelming as she pressed her pelvis to his. In that moment a switch was flipped between them.

Mason became nearly manic, fumbling to unbutton her shirt. He needed all of the barriers, both physical and emotional, between them to come down. For too long he had fantasized about seeing her, about feeling her in his arms again, and here she finally was. Letting her go was not an option.

He broke the kiss to remove his shirt. “Bedroom,” he demanded. His breath had become ragged. Laura nodded in agreement as Mason grabbed her hand and led her down the hall.

Laura sat on the edge of his bed, a coy smile teasing at her mouth as Mason laid her down.

He gripped her forearms, an air of authority settling in around his body. Laura looked up at him, slightly alarmed at his assertiveness, but she remembered what he’d told her and figured out what her role was. She let him take control.

Mason slithered down to the edge of the bed. Without breaking eye contact, he mouthed the zipper on the side of Laura’s skirt and skillfully unzipped it with his teeth, then pulled the whole thing off in one smooth motion. He cocked an eyebrow as he took in the sight of her fair skin decorated with a hunter green bra in satin and matching hot pants. Laura looked on with satisfaction as he ran his tongue over his upper lip. She felt sexy and powerful. It was an incredible aphrodisiac.

Suddenly, he yanked off his belt, adjusting her so she was at the head of the bed, and strapped her wrists to the headboard. A thrill of excitement and a tiny bit of fear pulsed through Laura’s veins.

Mason ran his hands over the curves of her body, catching his fingers in the waistband of her panties, stripping them off. She let out a little sigh of pleasure as he teased his way back up her leg with light, gentle touches from his mouth and fingertips.

Laura arched her back, lifting her bare hips. Her body was crying out for him to hurry it up already. Wetness grew between her legs; she wanted so badly to touch him.

Mason moved further north and drew a nipple into his mouth, sucking deep through the fabric. He wanted to enjoy tasting her again and drew out the foreplay. He pulled the bra down and suckled the other side, slowly nipping and kissing his way back down to her navel.

Mason murmured something against her belly, but she couldn’t hear him over her own begging. “Mason. Please,” she whimpered.

Mason licked and kissed up her inner thigh, making Laura sensitive to the point of pain.

When Laura thought she couldn’t take the torture anymore, Mason flicked his tongue over her clitoris. Her body tensed and her hips rocked. He pressed her down, a silent order to keep still while he took care of her.

Laura was in agony. Mason was taking his time, tormenting her. He sucked her clit into his mouth. She tasted amazing. He savored her sweetness as he worked her with his mouth. “Oh god, Mason,” she moaned, urging him on. Two fingers slipped inside of her and teased her g-spot, the double stimulation rocking her, bringing her perilously close to the edge.

Right when she thought she would come, he stopped and completely withdrew from between her legs. “Oh, God.
Why?
” Laura pleaded. She had never been a patient one, and this delayed gratification stunt he was pulling was killing her slowly. She pressed her thighs together to feel that last bit of sensation to just get the orgasm over with.

Mason pried her thighs apart with a shake of his head. “You don’t come unless I tell you to,” he instructed, moving around to the headboard to unbind her hands. “Get on your knees.”

Laura dropped to all fours while Mason dropped his pants. She smiled like an idiot when he approached her at full attention. “Open your mouth.”

Laura had a feeling she would really enjoy this new side of him.

Mason gently gripped the back of her head as she played. The warm wetness of her mouth and the velvet of her tongue felt amazing.

Laura sucked and worked him, stroking with her hand for help. His moaning and labored breathing egging her on. “Stop. Get on your back. I want to fuck you.”

Laura stopped, but she drew a slow lick up the vein of his shaft and over the sensitive tip before doing so.

Mason tore open the condom wrapper and sheathed himself before crawling between her legs. He continued his crusade to unravel her by teasing her opening with the head of his cock. She pulled Mason in for a long, passionate kiss before suddenly being righted.

She found herself straddling him, still not fully penetrated. She tried to slide him the rest of the way in, but he gripped her hips. “You can take over. I want to watch you, and don’t you dare close your eyes,” he demanded before pushing the rest of the way into her.

She rocked her hips, taking him in deeply and completely, her swollen clitoris bumping and rubbing against his pubic bone.

Mason rubbed his hands all over her. He couldn’t stop touching her, couldn’t believe she was real again. The smoothness of her skin under his hands felt exotic, yet still familiar. As she picked up her pace, Mason sucked air through his teeth. It was all he could to not come himself right then. He stroked his thumb over her clit. He wanted to watch her unravel; he could wait.

“Yes,” she moaned, dropping her head back, putting her breasts on full display. Mason’s hands roamed her body, leaving trails of electricity wherever he touched. His free hand cupped her breast as the other worked her below. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“Look at me,” Mason commanded.

Laura locked eyes with him just as her orgasm crashed over her. Her hips rocked and bucked uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her.

It took the last shred of control Mason had to not close his eyes in his own ecstasy. The pulsing of Laura’s heat and her body’s reaction to him caused Mason to quickly follow with his own orgasm.

Laura collapsed, completely spent and panting on top of him. His arms embraced her. It was a warm, comforting gesture she didn’t realize she had been craving all this time.

For several minutes they lay like that, only shifting enough for Mason to slip out and toss the condom in the bedside wastebasket.

Mason closed his eyes and cherished the moment. Her body was slimmer than he remembered, but still fit his as if she were built for him. He inhaled deeply, and could smell the sandalwood and sunflower fragrance of her shampoo and the sweet feminine musk of her skin. Emotion filled his chest so full he thought it would burst. He loved this woman and knew he would until the day he died. “I miss you, too.”

Laura wept silently as she snuggled closer to hear the uptick of his heart as he spoke. Could she give him another try? He felt like the same Mason she knew before she caught him with the dominatrix, but he couldn’t be. Too much time had gone by.

For sure his bedroom demeanor was significantly different. He was never so in charge and expressive before. She didn’t mind being the submissive to him at all. In fact, it was a great relief to not have to be in charge of that part of her life too.

Wiping her eyes, she slid off of him. She was becoming too overwhelmed, to the point of panic. There was no way she would let him see her cry.

“Laura? What’s wrong?” Mason asked as he sat up. His hand reached out to rub her back, but he got nothing but empty air.

She paced across the Persian rug. What could she say?

“Laura, you’re making me nervous here. Talk to me.”

She whirled around, anger rolling off of her in waves. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong. You cheated on me!” Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, and to hell with not letting him see. “I walked in on you, and you just expect me to be over it and accept your apology? How can I get over that? And now tonight? Everything I have ever felt for you just came tumbling down on top of me. I loved you, Mason, and you broke my heart.” She snatched her shoe off the floor and hurled it at his head, narrowly missing his temple. All of the emotions she had felt in the months after his betrayal came bubbling back to the surface then. “I need to go.”

Laura scrambled around the room, haphazardly putting her clothes back on as Mason watched in shock.

She was about to walk out on him again. His hands shook, and panic rose in his throat. He couldn’t let that happen again. He made up his mind just as Laura was putting her shoes on. “You aren’t going anywhere,” he announced, and layered in as much authority as he could muster.

“Fuck you, Mason.”

Rising to his feet, he closed the gap between them in three long strides. “I said to sit down, now.” His hand circled her wrist as she turned away.

Glaring down at the unwanted advance, Laura saw red. “Let me fucking go, Mason. Now!”

“Fine.” He released her. Laura bolted from the bedroom and towards the front door. “Go on home then,” he shouted at her back. “Run from your issues, then. Isn’t that what you’re best at?” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them, but dammit, he had some unresolved feelings too.

Laura froze with her hand on the doorknob. “Shit,” she whispered. He had a point. The whole reason they were in this mess in the first place was because they didn’t talk. She just packed her shit and bailed.

After a deep breath and steeling her resolve she turned and slunk back down the hall towards the bedroom. Mason was sitting on the edge of the bed, still naked, with his head buried in his hands.

She couldn’t recall ever seeing him so defeated by something before. The scene was like a punch in the gut. Laura couldn’t understand why, but she felt more than a little ashamed of herself.

She rapped her knuckles on the doorjamb. “Can I come in? You’re right, we need to hash this out.”

Mason raised his head and, feeling defeated, waved her in. “Come sit down.”

“No. I’d rather stand.” She was so uncomfortable she couldn’t sit still if she wanted to.

“Mason, I–”

“I’m sorry I was–”

They both chuckled. “You go first,” Laura suggested.

“Thanks. Like I told you yesterday, I am so sorry. I was such a shit.” Mason stared at his hands. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “There is absolutely nothing I can say or do to erase what you saw, I know that, but believe me when I tell you that you can’t punish me any worse than I’ve punished myself the last eight years.”

“I know. I didn’t want to rehash this, but I guess I didn’t get out everything I had been swallowing since I left at lunch.” The weight of shame pressed down harder on her. “My idyllic little picture had been dashed to pieces. I saw the stupid white picket fence in North Hampton with the two kids and a minivan. I saw all of that with you, and then came to find out I didn’t know you at all.” She blew out her breath. “That was devastating, Mason.”

The dam had broken, and every word she’d dreamed of saying to him for eight long years poured out. “I wish you would have just told me you wanted to experiment. I would have done anything for you. God, I was so devoted to you – to our relationship!” She wiped the fresh tears from her cheeks.