His Pawn (The Manhattan Tales Book 1)

by Thorne, Willa

  I threw my head back, fighting the urge to cry out as he hit every sensitive nerve in my slick channel. I steadied my gaze on him, sucking on my lower lip, and moved my hands up and down his chest as he continued the pace. He suddenly grabbed my wrists. His eyes still held that fiery blaze as he looked up at me.

  “You might be on top, darling, but I’m the one in control.” His voice was calm, commanding. He suddenly picked up the rhythm to a frenzied pace, bucking his hips as he drilled into me.

  “Oh, God. Mason!” I lost myself in this moment and gave a loud moaning whimper. My body was close. I only needed a few more sharp, deep thrusts. He gave it to me, hard, quick, mercilessly. I felt the pressure build and then explode around his large length and I cried out loudly, calling his name over and over again. He let go of my wrists and pulled me down to him, cupping his hand over my mouth. I moaned against his palm as he continued his hard thrusting.

  After a few minutes, he couldn’t hold back and he reached his peak. He grabbed my shoulders and gripped hard, pulled me down onto his cock as he let go deep within me. He kept me grasped by my shoulders; my hair fell over his face as he breathed hard.

  “I doubt I’ll need to hit the gym this morning,” He grinned as he gently slid me off him. “Unfortunately I need to get ready for work. As it is, I’m running late.”

  He took me into the shower with him, and we took turns washing each other. I enjoyed the aromatic smell of his masculine body wash, but we had to keep the shower quick since he was already running late by fifteen minutes.

  Mrs. O’Malley had mirth in her eyes as she greeted us in the kitchen. I felt my face become red and hot, knowing why she seemed to be smiling to herself. Mason seemed to be careless about it as she handed him his stainless steel mug of coffee and a toasted whole wheat bagel which had been wrapped in brown paper. Without shame, he kissed me goodbye before leaving for the office. The kiss was deep, tender.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” He said to me, and then turned to Mrs. O’Malley. “Have a nice day, Mrs. O’Malley.”

  “Good day, dear.” She waved with affection.

  I made myself a cup of coffee and grabbed a cereal bar from the cupboard and slinked away to my guest bedroom, hoping to evade any commentary or questions about what she’d seen and heard from us that morning.

  14. Jilly Bean

  My heart was full to bursting when I entered my bedroom. I fell back on my bed with a huge smile on my face, daydreaming and fantasizing like a ridiculous schoolgirl. I couldn’t stop thinking about Mason. He’d opened up to me, let me see past his icy guise. By mid-morning, I received a text message from him.

  Mason: I am going to pick you up at seven tonight. Wear something nice.

  I was beaming. He’d never taken me out in public except to get books and pay my fees at NYU.

  I sent him a reply instantly: Where are you taking me?

  His reply was evasive.

  Mason: ;) It’s a surprise. P.S.- Don’t forget about the party tomorrow night.

  Oh, right. I had nearly forgotten. Ever since that night in High School, parties really weren’t my thing, but this one was different. This was the type of party that I never would have imagined myself attending. I paused, thinking about possible publicity. Would this evening make it into the gossip section? Would Mason’s father see this? No, I can’t live in fear. Mason loves me, I just know it. Last night showed me everything I needed to know. I had to call Elyse.

  “Hey girl,” she answered the phone immediately, sounding hurried.

  “Hey Ly, did you remember the party tomorrow night?” I asked.

  She was quiet, and then sighed. “Yeah about that. I’m not going.”

  “Why not? Please? It will be fun.” I tried to reassure her, but I wasn’t sounding so confident myself about it.

  I needed her to be my partner against all the other elitists attending this thing. I didn’t know why Mason decided to attend. This didn’t seem to be his sort of scene, either.

  “I don’t want to be the only broke girl there,” I said.

  “You’re not, babe. You have Mr. Money Bags Mason. I, on the other hand, have nothing to wear. Besides…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Besides, what?” I prompted her.

  “What kind of party is this anyway?” She asked and I could hear the background New York City traffic: blaring horns, shouting, loud music and so much more. She must be walking toward the subway.

  “It’s a Masquerade,” I responded. “So it’s not like anybody is going to recognize you.”

  “A Masquerade? What kind of rich-people bullshit is that? That’s so cliche.”

  “How is that cliche?”

  “Listen, Jill. I used to do things to these people back when I was younger, before we met. It put me in juvie. I don’t belong there. You know.”

  I sighed. I knew the what she was referring to, and she wasn’t going to talk about it on the busy streets of New York. Before we were friends, she spent time with groups who were not good for her. Having an incredible talent for art, she was exceptional with spray paint. But instead of using it for beautiful murals, she used it to vandalize property with profanity. She also slashed the tires of parked Maseratis and threw rocks at windows in exclusive neighborhoods. She was a girl crying out for help, and that sort of property did not go unguarded. She was arrested more than once and ended up in juvenile centers. I wasn’t going to push her to attend a party filled with the types of of people whose property she used to vandalize. The one and only wealthy person she warmed up to was Mason. Even I was surprised when she invited him to join us for Mexican food.

  “Ok,” I said sadly. “I have no problem letting you borrow something. We can go shopping for a mask this afternoon after my class if you change your mind.... it’s not like anybody would know who you are. But, if you don’t want to go, it’s fine.”

  Elyse was quiet for a moment. “Fine, I’ll go… for like, an hour. But you have to let me borrow something. Just pick out a mask for me, I guess. I’ll be working until eleven tonight.”

  “Yes!” I jumped and I could almost see her roll her eyes. “I’m about to go down the subway so I’ll talk to you later babe. Love ya.”

  “Love ya too.” I smiled as she ended the call.

  I knew Elyse enough to know that she was at least a little intrigued by this party, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Her past bothered her, even though she didn’t say it in so many words. There was a rebellious streak in her that she’d been trying to tame. It was all over her expression and her voice whenever she mentioned it. I hoped she could let go of it and enjoy herself tomorrow night. She kept so much bottled up inside her and it would be great for her to attend a party where she didn’t have to worry about showing her face.

  Mrs. O’Malley had stepped out to buy groceries and run errands but I remembered that Mason mentioned a costume store on Madison Avenue where I could get a mask. I also knew I was going to have to succumb to the use of his AmEx. He said it was in the top drawer of the desk. I used the key he left me in case of emergencies and leafed through the desk in his study. It felt so wrong unlocking the top drawer, even though he had given me permission a long time ago.

  I didn’t see a credit card when I first opened the drawer. I gently leafed through some documents, wondering if it had slipped between some papers, but was careful not to disorganize everything that Mason had compartmentalized. I was about to phone him to ask him where the credit card was in his desk, when I spotted a white envelope with the corner of a grainy black and white photo sticking out of it. I couldn’t help but take the bait, even though this wasn’t any of my business. It was probably work-related.

  This is so wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this. I scolded myself as I picked up the envelope and looked inside. There was a handwritten note from Mason on his own custom stationery. It read: Think of the better times.

  Interesting. I pulled out the photos and gasped, dropping them in surprise. I think my heart stopped bea
ting for a second. I retrieved the photos and studied them more. They were grainy, black and white pictures taken from a surveillance camera. The dates and times were printed on the bottom of the three photos. The photos were of me… and Mason.

  I looked at the first photo. He had me pinned against the wall, lifted me up with my legs straddled around his waist. I was still wearing black lace thigh-highs and my five-inch heels. My nude form wasn’t showing, and his business pants were still on his hips, but it was evident what we were doing. Fucking. That was one of many times he’d taken me in the library of his penthouse.

  What. The. Hell?!

  I looked at the other two photos. They each had different dates marked on them from the security footage. All three dates were from two months ago, when the contract first began. In the second photo, I was splayed over his home office desk, being taken from behind, but the photo was cropped in such a way that our private areas weren’t shown. Still, it was clear what we were doing. The last photo was another of him taking me in his office chair. Just as the first two, the photo was cropped, leaving out the pornographic parts, but you still got the idea…

  I was confused, bewildered and even a little angry. What on earth was he doing with photos like this hidden in his desk? These were very private photos of intimate things only he and I shared. But perhaps they weren’t as intimate as I had naively thought they were back then. Immediately, I grabbed my cell phone and called Mason.

  “Jillian,” He answered in his smooth business voice. I assumed there were others in the office with him.

  “Mason, I want to know why you have surveillance photos of us fucking, in an envelop in your desk.” My face was red and my heart was pounding so hard. I didn’t know what to think of this. It was beyond weird.

  “I’m in a business meeting right now, Jillian. I’ll call you back when I’m finished.” His response was smooth.

  “I want to know now,” I answered, trying to maintain my composure.

  The tension was thick over the phone and I could feel him stiffen for a few brief seconds.

  “I kept those as memoirs for when the contract is finished. I want to look at you and remember-”

  This time I was the one to interrupt him.

  “It’s still about the contract?” I was crushed. “Screw the contract, Mason.”

  He maintained his same professional demeanor.

  “You interjected me before I could finish speaking. I wanted to discuss that with you tonight over dinner at Carlito’s. I’d like us to reconsider the terms.”

  I felt my brow furrow. “Let’s discuss it now.” My voice was sharp. My blood was boiling.

  “Not now, Jillian. I am in the middle of a very important proposal. We will talk tonight. Be ready at seven.” Then the call ended.

  I was shaking as I snatched the surveillance photos. I slammed the top drawer to his desk, and locked it. Fuck the credit card. I was in no mood to shop for a mask at this point. Red flags were flaring in my mind. Something was not right.

  My intuition told me that something was wrong. If he wanted memoirs, he could have real photos of me taken, or have me for keeps. He didn’t have to keep those photos… He could have the real thing. I sucked in a deep breath, fighting back the tears that burnt my eyes.

  This is so gross. Why am I crying all the time? It was no use fighting though. The tears fell down my face as I left his office. You’re being too emotional about this. Let him explain tonight over dinner. Think about everything that happened last night and this morning. His affection. He’s let you in, I tried to reason with myself as I stormed down the hall.

  I hadn’t heard anyone enter the penthouse. I was lost in such thought, I hadn’t paid attention to where I was walking. I bumped right into someone. I stumbled back, and so did she…

  Through my blurry vision, I looked up to see another female figure. Her hair was pulled into a smooth, sleek twist. She wore glasses like me, and sported a plain cream blazer and matching pencil skirt.

  “Who are you?” I asked hoarsely, fearing the worst. Mason had women on the side… I felt irrational as I jumped to this conclusion.

  She only smiled and extended a hand to me. “I’m Piper Rochester, Mason’s cousin. It is nice to finally meet you.”

  “Oh,” My cheeks flamed, feeling foolish. He told her about me? Mason had mentioned her a few times but he seemed angry with her about something. He was terse with her on the phone when they last spoke.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m glad to finally meet a family member,” I gave a flushed smile and immediately wiped my face with my right hand before offering her my left hand to shake.

  The memory of Mason’s sister pricked my spine. My handshake became stiff as I recalled that unfriendly encounter. Piper tilted her head slightly as she assessed me.

  “Trust me. My brother and I are the only family you could possibly want to meet,” she said this empathically. No kidding.

  Her gaze glanced down to a white envelope with the photos, and she looked up at me through the frames of her glasses. She said nothing as I gripped the envelope tighter.

  “Are you alright?” She asked, seeming genuinely concerned as she studied my puffy, swollen eyes and tear streaked face.

  “Yeah,” I answered, not sure what else to say.

  She studied me for a moment, as though she could read everything about me with one stare, but then she looked around.

  “I was hoping to catch Mason. He hasn’t returned my calls.”

  “He’s at the office today.” I answered.

  Piper wet her lips in keen thought.

  “Hmm.” This alone told me that she’d already checked with his offices and he was not there.

  “He mentioned a business proposal.” Perhaps I gave away too much information.

  “Ah, he might be out in a lunch meeting.” She gave me a smile and walked down the corridor toward the kitchen.

  I thought she was an interesting character. Her personality lacked any vibrancy and her attire was quite bland. Still, I felt as comfortable as I could be with a stranger, and I was glad to finally meet a family member of Mason’s.

  “Is Mason taking you to my brother’s party tomorrow?” She asked lightly as she went into the kitchen and helped herself around the kitchen. I watched her boil a kettle of water for tea. She must have been here often, because she was quite comfortable here.

  “Yes, but I still don’t have a mask,” I answered.

  Piper shrugged blandly as she selected a tea bag from the cupboard. “I have a few if you don’t mind borrowing. Most ladies prefer something new, but-”

  “No, I’d love to borrow one,” I interrupted, relieved.

  She looked at me with a smile. “I can see why my cousin likes you. I’ll have them sent over tomorrow afternoon. You can choose which one you like.”

  “I guess you have attended these things a lot?” I asked. “Do you think my friend can borrow one, too?”

  “Ah, yes your friend is going. That’s right.” She mused. “Just pick what you like. Some of them are quite versatile. They’ll go with any gown.”

  “Thanks. I’ll save Mason some money.” I grinned, and then we both burst into light laughter. I really liked Piper. I thought we could even be friends… if things between me and Mason lasted long enough. I felt so confused about those photos. I mean really… who keeps old surveillance photos like that in a desk inside an envelope?

  ****

  Just as he promised, Mason showed up at seven sharp. I’d chosen a sleek black cocktail dress in silk. Unlike my Dior from the thrift store years ago, this was the latest design. It hugged the curves of my voluptuous body. I’d never be skinny, but this dress made me feel like a sex kitten. I matched it with Louboutins. I had no idea what to do with my hair, so I used a curling iron and a bit of hair product in an effort to tame my waves and make them appear more sleek and organized. I wore a bit of mascara and some red lipstick.

  Mason was waiting in the foyer with a bouquet
of purple callas and orchids. Flowers? Wow… He flashed me a grin that could have scorched the panties from my hips. My heart skipped around in my chest.

  “I’d kiss you, but I’m sure you don’t want me to ruin your lipstick,” he smirked.

  I gave him a deadpan stare. I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down to my level and kissed him deeply. I was still upset about the photos, but after seeing him at this moment, I knew he’d give me answers. When we finally broke the kiss, I giggled softly and wiped away the red smear on his lips.

  He trailed his lips down the nape of my bare neck and I moaned softly, and already I felt heat pooling within the silk of my panties.

  “I should take you right here,” he said in a low voice, gripping my hips with one hand while he slid his other hand up the silk of my dress. I was almost panting, but I still needed him to explain.

  “Tonight,” I said, trying to hold onto any self-control I had. “I’m hungry.”

  “So am I, but not for food,” he gave me a feral smile, but he still helped me into my emerald coat and ushered me in a gentlemanly fashion out of the door. The valet had his Mercedes-Benz ready for him at the front curb.

  I looked around for Rick and did not see him anywhere. The valet driver handed the keys to Mason and he was given a generous tip. Mason then opened the door for me and slipped into the driver’s side. Wow… I hadn’t been in a car with him like this since the night he rescued me in my drunken state. It was just us. I was beaming.

  We rode in silence as he maneuvered through the streets of Manhattan, and parked in front of a very swanky Italian restaurant. The bright red sign in the front said Carlito’s. Another valet driver greeted us, and I was curious to know if Mason remembered what a parking garage looked like. He placed his hand on the small of my back as two gentlemen in suits held the glass doors open for us. There were a few people waiting to be seated, but Mason said he’d already made reservations and we were immediately shown to a private booth in the back of the restaurant.