Authors: Eliza Gayle
MasonsRule-ARe
MASON'S RULE
By
ELIZA GAYLE
Copyright © 2014
All Rights Reserved
Eliza on Twitter: @elizagaylebooks
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ABOUT THE BOOK
Mason's Rule, Purgatory Masters Book 3
Mason Sinclair followed everyone else's rules until family lies tore his life apart. Now
he
sets the damn rules and expects everyone to follow them. Period. But as the complex charade he calls his life begins to unravel, he meets a reporter with questionable motives and killer curves who may be the final straw.
Stuck in the past and unable to move on, Rebecca Adams sees a contract with a mysterious Dom as her one-way ticket to the truth.
Finally
. The fact it comes with a sexy side of kink only sweetens the deal. Give that girl a pen.
Sign on the dotted line. Go wild. Kiss her guilt goodbye.
If only things went according to plan...
*****
Chapter One
Mason Sinclair walked away from the party where his brother, Tucker, and Maggie had just gotten engaged. As much as he wanted his family to be happy, it was difficult to let go of the uneasiness settled inside him. His stepmother's recent public revelation that their father was a serial polygamist brought him no relief. No, Savannah Lewis only stirred up more questions and put the rest of their family's secrets in danger of being revealed. That left him worried more than ever about their future and the short timeline in which to protect everyone before the bottom dropped out.
Despite the love Tucker had for Maggie, Mason has seen some of the same turmoil about the future in his brother's eyes. He didn't need his gut to tell him more trouble waited for them just over the horizon.
Now their long gone and carefully hidden brother, Levi had returned to join the mix and fallen in love in the process. He suspected it would be only a matter of time before Levi's ready-made family would become official. A dull throb behind one eye served as a warning that Mason needed to think about something else and quick. He had no time to deal with pain today. He took a deep breath and kept going.
Leaving the Purgatory Club behind, he slipped into his private dining room at the adjacent restaurant he and his brothers all technically owned, Fire and Ice, and stopped just inside the threshold. He studied the woman waiting for him as she stared out the third-story window overlooking one of the city's most popular green spaces. In the winter, the city turned the space into a small ice skating rink for the holidays. He often stood in the exact spot and watched families come and go throughout the day. Life had changed for the modern family over the years, mostly in part to new technology. Now, instead of paying attention to each other, they were glued to their smart phones. Not that his family had better role models. His mother and stepfather dedicated their lives to acquisitions. More specifically to how much they could get. Greed, power and revenge were basic staples in their everyday lives.
Mason shook his head and re-focused on the woman. This was neither the time nor place to get caught up in familial memories. The whirlwind of a woman who entered his life about as subtly as an afternoon thunderstorm — fast, vicious and out of nowhere — asked to meet with him to go over the sexual submission contract he offered her. As far as he was concerned Rebecca Adams had two choices: either accept his terms and play the game he wanted, or leave his club empty-handed. No matter how much he wanted her, his threshold for nosy reporters was pretty damned low.
Yet she stood there taunting him. Her curly blonde hair hung loose and messy to her shoulders as if she finally gave up the fight on keeping it under control. His mind zeroed-in on the soft curls circling her head and he imagined his fingers grasping a handful as he entered her from behind while she stared outside...
In the window, her curvy figure reflected back to him. Pulling at him like an irresistible magnet. She kept her attire strictly professional in her typical work style, with probably no idea of the effect her simple pencil skirt and button-down blouse had on him. His hands itched to turn her around and peel the silk shirt from her shoulders and place his lips on the satiny flesh underneath. Ever since she showed up at Purgatory weeks ago, with her little notebook and innocent eyes, they'd been skirting around the tension between them as they tap danced through her constant questions about his life and the club.
Finally, he decided to broker a deal with the compelling woman. Which brought his gaze down to her ample backside. It always made his dick stand at attention as more fantasies ran through his head. All of her insistent probing had given him more ideas than he could count, although to his credit he tried everything to resist her. Not an easy feat when she violated his thoughts more often than not.
Their latest accidental meeting resulted in her scent clinging to his clothes, tormenting him when he dared to remove them that night. He spotted her in the crowd at Purgatory and decided to observe her more closely. When an unexpected altercation broke out at one of the play stations, she was bumped into him back to front and he wrapped his arms around her to keep her from falling.
That's when it happened. The already subtle moments of her perfume were wiped away with a flood of orange and musk. He never smelled anything quite like it, but he knew he wanted more. As soon as she saw who held her, she jerked from his hold and ran. He watched her hurry away as the remnant of her touch left an indelible imprint on his brain. Things had pretty much gone downhill from there. Her remembered scent left him on edge and out of sorts. To his utter horror, it started to affect his day-to-day life. He couldn't get her out of his mind. This latest development ultimately led him to give in to his obsession and offer her a contract.
In exchange for helping him with his publicity problems, she would get an exclusive interview and he'd take her under his wing and introduce her to her wildest submissive fantasies.
He loved the shocked look on her face. Even better the soft gasp he heard when he pushed the contract across the table and told her to read it before giving him an answer. That was weeks ago. Chaos descended on his entire family since then, after the shocking press conference with Tucker's mother, where she confessed to punishing her dead husband more than ten years ago. With little time to think of anything else, his personal desires fell to the wayside—until the edginess returned. That's when he realized he hadn't heard back from Rebecca and the possibility she wasn't interested sank in. With the news splashed everywhere, anything he could offer her for a story wouldn't exactly be exclusive anymore. She had what she needed without having to conduct a single interview with him.
None of which diminished his burning desire to be her mentor.
Then out of the blue she called his secretary this morning and asked for an appointment, citing the outstanding contract as her reason for the request. He instructed his secretary to book a late dinner at Fire and Ice for them.
He strode further into the room and wished he could read her thoughts. Her body language gave him no real clues. The lines of her body held no obvious tension, nor any noticeable fidgeting. Her muscles were neither rigid or loose, leaving him with nothing but a beautiful sight as his gaze roamed from the petite red flower clipped to the side of her hair to her black patent leather heels. The shoes looked more functional than sexy, yet made him want them digging in his back as he fucked her.
Without seeing her face, she appeared as cool and collected as always, while his body burned alive from the inside out. Except when she thought no one was watching her at Purgatory he saw her calm reserve dissolve into shocking desire. Those heated moments haunted him, especially alone at night.
Everything logical in the world told him going forward with an agreement between them was a bad idea that could and likely would go horribly wrong. Again, all useless warnings with her standing in the same room, breathing the same air. From the first moment she looked at him with soft, inquisitive eyes and he whiffed the scent of her favored perfume, nothing but being inside her mattered. In fact, he planned to get so deep inside her, she'd forget everything but her submission. Whatever her goals for continuing to investigate Purgatory and its mysterious owners would no longer matter. She had the soul of a submissive and like a blank black and white slate, he planned to fill in the colors.
Another insistent throb in his head caught his attention. He unlocked his teeth from their death clench and relaxed the muscles in his shoulders. It was time to do something about this tension holding him hostage before he succumbed to the pain. The longer he stood there and lusted after her, the tighter his pants got.
Time to get this meeting started. Mason shifted his stance and walked further into the room. "You're early," he said.
Her body stiffened before she turned, greeting him with eyes a little wider than normal and her mouth slightly open. "I assumed you'd prefer punctuality," she said.
A slow smile crossed his face. "You'd be correct in that assumption, Miss Adams. Please, have a seat." He held out a chair at the table and waited for her to comply. She walked over and took her seat while Mason tried not to stare at her amazing legs. He'd already imagined them wrapped around him as he pushed in her chair.
He settled into the place across from her and tried to remember her goal in coming to town: to dig into his family's past. This was simply a temporary detour. More was at stake here than sex. "I take it you've read through the contract?"
"I have," she said.
"Are you here to accept it?" He waited long enough to hear her answer. He wasn’t going to waste time getting to the point.
"That depends. I have a few questions." She tucked her hair behind her ear and he couldn't help follow the finger trailing down her neck.
Mason leaned forward. "I figured you would. Feel free to ask whatever you'd like. I don't want any confusion between us. Something like this isn't to be entered into lightly."
She tipped forward as well and leveled a stare in his direction. "There are many possibilities I could begin with. Especially when it comes to some of the activities you listed as requirements from a submissive. However, I prefer to get straight to the point and the most important question of them all."
He smiled again, anxious to hear what one question held that much importance to her. Not that his body cooperated much with his brain when it came to her. Before she could ask, he stood from his chair and pulled her from hers. They melded together. Just once, he thought to himself, before he slid his mouth across hers. To his delight, she didn't move. He licked her bottom lip then bit it lightly.
"Ask your question, Miss Adams, before it's too late."
Her chest rose and fell as he waited.
"What happens when the contract ends?" She gulped for air. "I mean what
really
happens?"
Mason traced his finger across her lips and cheek as he considered her question. Her bravado had slipped a little. "What happens when the contract ends is spelled out quite clearly." He pressed his lips to hers. "When it comes to the terms of our agreement, there are no hidden agendas. What you see is what you get. Once the contract terminates, so does this." His fingers wove through her curls and tightened on a handful of the satiny soft strands. He pulled gently until her head tilted back and bared her throat.
"You've come here to accept my contract."
"I want to make sure I know what I'm getting into first." Her mouth opened wider when he pulled a fraction tighter on her hair.
"What specifically did you not understand in the terms?"
She was stalling.
"You've basically asked me to bare myself to you both emotionally and sexually by giving up control."