by Aubrey Cara
“Thank you for letting me know,” she said her voice flat, even though his confession had stirred emotions she didn't want stirred.
“I also wanted you to know I'm still talking to you. So if you did want to talk to me—about anything—I'm available to talk to,” he said this with an olive branch tilt of a grin.
He was still talking to her? He had some nerve. She wanted to punch him in the face. She also wanted to return his smile. Did he have to be so open and...charming this morning after she'd been warring with herself all weekend? She'd missed him. She'd been mad at herself. She'd been mad at him. It was so aggravating that now that she saw him she wanted to run into his arms and burrow against his chest. You don't take comfort from the man that upset you.
She had to remind herself she was angry at him.
“Thank you for letting me know,” she said in the same dead tone she'd used before.
“Okay. Well then...I hope you have a nice day.” A neutral mask dropped over his face, like last week hadn't happened. Like all he was, all he'd ever been was her platonic boss. The man she'd been mesmerized by, yearned for, drooled over for a year but couldn't ever have. The man she didn't know and could never read.
He turned to walk away and she bit out, “Do you think me not talking to you is a joke?” She wasn't sure why she wanted to keep him engaged. Get a rise out of him. She just needed him as frustrated as she was and unhappy enough that it showed across his face.
“No, I don't think any of this is funny.” He ran an aggravated hand through his hair. “Not that it helps or makes any of this better, but I deleted the pictures.”
He said it like they had been naked pictures of her she hadn't known he'd taken instead of pictures of her books. The thing was she felt like they had been nudie pics of her. She would have almost preferred finding naked pictures of herself on his phone. Maybe she wouldn't have felt so exposed.
“I've decided I'm keeping the books, though. And I bought most of them.”
She gritted her teeth. “Good for you.”
“I read those book, you know.”
She hadn't known. She'd wondered. She'd wondered about a few things.
“And I liked what I read. So I'm keeping them.”
Before Mimi could reply she became aware of Ms. Linda on the other side of the office. The older secretary's eyebrows were raised as she pointedly stared at her computer, like she wasn't listening to every word they were saying.
Dammit.
“Can we not have this conversation here,” she hissed.
Jaw clenched tight and clearly unhappy he turned to go and she said, “It's not that you read them, Mason. It's that you used them against me without my knowledge.” To her horror her voice hitched on the last word and she realized she was close to crying.
Double dammit with dog doo on it. Maybe she should have just called in this morning.
“I'm a little confused. Are we having this conversation or not?”
Her lips pressed together in a stubborn line. “Not.”
He nodded his head once. “Fine.” Without another word he stomped to his office and slammed the door hard enough she jumped. So did Ms. Linda whose face formed a perfect 'o' of shock as she looked straight at Mimi in question. Before Mimi could react Mason's office door whipped back open as he charged into her space.
Hands braced on her desk he said, “Grab your stuff, and come on.”
“What?” she asked her head reeling.
“On second thought,” he said coming around behind her desk. “You don't need your purse.”
Before she knew what was happening the air was knocked out of her with an “oomph” as she was hefted over his broad shoulder. His broad bony shoulder that was even now pressing into her belly with every step he took down the hall. She couldn't recall his shoulder being this boney.
“Mason,” she squealed, very aware Ms. Linda was probably getting an eyeful. “What the hell are you doing?” She grabbed handfuls his shirt and belt. Feeling like she was about to fall, she clung to him as he stormed through the door and down the stairs. This was something from her novels she could do without.
“We're clearing the air,” he said, punctuating this statement with a none too gentle slap to her ass.
She squealed in outrage this time. “Dammit Mason! I do not find this-this-” What did Kat always call Caleb? Oh yeah, “Neanderthal act sexy!” But she did. Just a little. And she hated herself for it.
“Angel, this ain't no act,” he said, his drawl thicker than she'd ever heard. “And if this was foreplay you'd know it.”
They went out the back door and across the back parking lot. The cold air whipped through her silky blouse and up her skirt. Before she had time to complain he hauled open the passenger side door to his SUV and unceremoniously dumped her in.
Her, “You high handed assho—” was cut off by the slamming of the door.
Mason was in the driver's seat, revving the engine before she could even think of opening the door and storming back upstairs.
He was backing out of his parking spot when he bit out, “Put your seatbelt on.”
“No,” she said, just to be difficult. She folded her arms over her chest staring straight ahead.
He slammed his foot on the brakes and threw the vehicle into park, making her jerk forward in her seat. He pushed her back, reaching over her and with angry jerks and pulls as he fastened her seat belt.
She reached to unfasten it and he pinned her place with an angry glare. “Don't.”
She resented the flip her belly did and the tingles that raced down her spine at his ferocious look and dictate. Her hand hovered over the belt in defiance as she sent a challenging glare right back at him.
“I swear to all that is holy, Miriam Westfall, if you touch that seat belt I will haul you out of this vehicle and put you over my knee in front of every one of those damn workers right now, for a spanking you will not soon forget. Do I make myself clear?”
Looking over she felt her eyes widen as she realized a handful of the mechanics were standing around the opening of the back of the garage watching her and Mason with interest. A flush heated her cheeks in embarrassment and she suddenly wanted to bash Mason over the head with a blunt object. It was bad enough all the mechanics on duty heard them having sex last week. She wasn't about to let them see her getting spanked.
“Don't just sit there,” she said through gritted teeth. “Drive, dammit.”
Mercifully he put the jeep into gear and eased out into traffic. They were on the road, both silently fuming, a full minute before Mason said, “I'm not Jay. Don't put his shit on me.”
That swing had come from left field and hit Mimi like a ton of bricks. “Well, Zeke and I aren't your dead family. You can't just play house ‘til you're tired of us, then leave.” She wanted to take back the words the second she said them.
He slammed his foot on the brakes so hard other cars' horns were blaring as they raced around him in the other lane. She was thankful for her seatbelt.
He just sat there staring at her.
“Is that really what you think?” he said with deceptive calmness.
She swallowed thickly shaking her head. “No-I don't know. Maybe. I don't know what to think. I don't know why you'd want to be with me. I don't know why...I'm sorry.”
He nodded once, and looked back to the road and easing his foot back onto the gas. The muscles along his jaw and shoulders started to ease.
They drove for a while in no apparent direction and when it was clear he wasn't going to say anything she said, “I know you're not Jay. I know what you did isn't the same. But the feeling—like I'd been duped—brought everything back. I feel like I have a target on my back. Something that says I'm easy to take advantage of. And then I wondered why the hell you were with me. I mean you're wealthy, and privileged, and have probably dated gorgeous women from equally privileged families,” she rambled. “Or at least I've always thought you did.”
“I did,” he said si
mply.
Well, that shut her up.
“I'm from money. I'm spoiled. I've always been a little spoiled. I've always gotten what I've wanted...with the exception of dying with my family, having my family back, and you. I couldn't have you.”
Mimi's mind reeled. She locked onto the first things he'd said he couldn't have. “Do you still wish you'd died with your family?” She hated asking. Hated more he'd think it...wish it.
“I had. Not in a blow my brains out, drive off a cliff kind of way. But I had. Until recently.”
It was clear he meant until she'd entered his life. “Mason, I'm not—” She was going to say what he should be living for. She didn't want that kind of responsibility. But she kind of wanted to be what he was living for. To be that significant to him. More than she wanted to admit. Instead she said, “I don't know what you want from me.”
“My aunt and my parent's friends set me up with a lot of women I had no interest in, and I went along with it. For years I went along with it. They were all shallow surface relationships. They had no depth. But the more I went out with women 'I just had to meet,' the more I wanted something that felt real. I wanted a woman that didn't care if I was driving an old beat up Jeep Cherokee or luxed out Range Rover.
“Then there you were. Mimi Westfall. The one that got away. More beautiful than when you were sixteen.” He said it looking over at her in such a way that her pulse did a hard thud before starting up again.
“I wracked my brain thinking of ways to get you to see me. Want me.” Then he smirked and said, “Hiring you was the smartest or most foolish thing I've ever done. Every day you came into work wearing your prim little business clothes. These tight long skirts that hide as much as they show off. And these silky button up blouses.” He reached over and flicked the top button of her shirt she was wearing, and she batted his hand away. He just took her hand and kissed her fingers.
She felt the kiss tingle all the way up her arm and rather than pull away she let him go on holding it. It felt too good, too right to pull away.
“There have been hours, upon days, upon weeks I've fantasized about unbuttoning your silky blouses, angel. You were close enough to touch but I had to keep my hands to myself.”
“I never knew. I had no idea that all this time—I mean other than asking me out when I first got hired you never even hinted that you were interested.” She would have noticed, wouldn't she?
Maybe she'd been too wrapped up in weaving daydreams of her own about Mason she hadn't noticed. But that was a lie. She'd felt some kind of pull that rang of sexual chemistry. She'd just thought it had been the wild imaginings of her sex starved mind. Her horny-single-mom-desperation-stench had been at an all time high this past year.
“I was so out of my element when it came to you,” he said, surprising her. Hadn't she felt the same way? “This is hard for me to say, and it might sound arrogant.”
“That's never stopped you before.”
“True,” he said. “Mimi, I wanted to be everything you ever wanted and ever needed. I still do.”
Her breath hitched. How could she stay mad at a man that said that? Especially this particular man? Maybe it was a bit arrogant but so damn revealing. She'd thought he'd had all the power, but this confession. God, what did it take for a man as controlled as Mason Coleman to allow himself to be this open and vulnerable?
He was doing this for her, she realized. Only her. He'd never bare himself this way to anyone else. There was still something she had to know. “Did you enjoy any of the...extra? I mean, was all that an act to get me off?”
“Yes, I enjoyed it and no, it wasn't an act. I mean. Maybe a little at first.” Mason's light chuckle and wicked grin told its own story. “I uh, read those naughty books you got.”
She tried to pull her hand away then but he held firm. “You have mentioned that,” she said. “I'm not exactly thrilled that you just wanted to see how high I let my freak flag fly.”
“Alright, yes. At first, yes, I wanted to get an idea of what you were into. I mean, what if you you'd been into pegging?”
She snorted.
“Exactly.”
“Maybe I have been dreaming of sinking my big black strap-on into your ass,” she said, just to mess with him.
He visibly shuddered. “You can keep Peg the Violator in your naughty nightstand drawer little lady,” he said making her smile despite herself. “Lord Mimi, you have no idea how stupid and naive I felt reading those books. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was turned on, but I also kept thinking maybe I'd been doing it wrong for years. Like maybe I should call all the women I'd ever been with and apologize for being inadequate or something.”
Mimi rolled her eyes. She doubted any woman had ever thought Mason Coleman 'inadequate.' She knew first hand how 'adequate' the man was.
“You certainly had me fooled. You seemed so natural. Like you'd always been making women stand in the corner with their skirts around their waists.”
“That first time I spanked you...I wasn't sure if I could do it. Those stories opened my eyes and awakened parts of me that were damned uncomfortable. Mimi, the things I've done to you—what I want to do to you—Lord sunshine, I hadn't been raised that way. I didn't even know these were things I could want.”
Mimi let that sink in. She'd had years to come to terms with the things that turned her on and she was still not quite comfortable with it. Case in point, finding out Mason had discovered her naughty books and feeling like her whole secret world had been exposed.
Not for the first time, she wondered if she would have been able to be honest with Mason had he asked her point blank what kinds of kinky things she was into.
Now that the sexual haze of the past week had lifted she had some things to think about. And so did Mason. What happened when the newness wore off and Mason decided it was all too much for him? They'd jumped into a sexual frenzy of two people that were hard up. Mason hadn't been with anyone sexually for as long as she had.
What if all that kinky stuff was just their overwhelming need to get off? He'd said he wanted to be everything she'd ever wanted and needed. She wanted to be that to him, too, but if anything this weekend taught her was how easily she could be hurt by this man.
“I think we should cool it on the kink for a while. Maybe even cool it on the sex,” she said.
“What? I thought you liked—”
“I do like. Or at least I think I do. It's just that we rushed into a relationship rather impetuously.”
“I've wanted you since forever. There's nothing impetu—”
“I think we should pump the brakes.”
“That's the last thing we need.”
“Need and want are two different things,” she said quite imperiously.
“You're not making sense. I'm forgiven but we can't have what we had before? Are we together or not?”
“We're together.” Her heart hiccupped a little just saying it. “And I do forgive you. I just think our whole relationship has been in warp speed and we need to slow down.”
“Slow down?”
“Slow down. As in no more sex for a while. And definitely no spanking or corner time, or any other kind of kinky, dominating, kinky play.”
“Really?” He asked with a bemused look on his face.
She wanted to cry just thinking about what her dictate meant. That didn't stop her from arching a brow and tossing a challenging look Mason's way. “Is that okay? Can you do that?” she asked.
“Of course. That's fine. As long as you're not arbitrarily changing the rules here ‘cause you're mad at me.”
“I'm not doing this to punish you, if that's what you think.” Test both of them possibly, but not punish. “I need to know, for me, if we can survive without sex. I have so many what ifs right now. What if you stop enjoying the domination games we've been playing? What if I do?”
And if she were being really honest she'd admit she was scared and pulling back. Things had been fast and intense and she wasn't sure if
she could handle it. She hadn't realized how much she'd already lost herself in their relationship until she'd had some time away from him and all the things he made her feel. Things she still felt when they'd been apart.
She wasn't comfortable with how much she craved him.
“Mimi. If any of that happens we'll talk about it. Like we're doing right now.”
She arched a brow.
“Are we not?”
She blew out a breath. “Yes. We are.” She still wasn't thrilled with how easily she forgave him. She could barely remember why she was mad at him in the first place which was terrifying and made her want to put plenty of distance between them.
Looking around her she realized they were entering the cemetery, but she still asked, “Where are we going?”
He gave her fingers a squeeze, “I want to introduce you to my family.”
Tears clogged her throat. She blew out a breath trying to hold it together as they pulled onto the cemetery pathways. Down and around he drove, pulling partially off into the grass to park in a pretty area near a big cypress tree. She shivered at the chill in the air when she got out of the vehicle. He walked around taking off his jacket to put on her shoulders before his large hand engulfed hers once again.
She was instantly comforted by his masculine scent and warmth as he led her to three grave markers. Thaddeus Walker Coleman, Josephine Ann Coleman, and Juliette Elizabeth Coleman. They weren't ostentatious but clearly nicer than others in the area.
“This is them. Mom, Dad, Julie. I'd like you to meet, Mimi. Mimi, Mom, Dad, and Julie.”
“Hi,” she said lamely. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to say anything. She'd never met anyone this way. She'd never been with someone whose entire family was dead, let alone cared this deeply.
“Did I ever tell you where I was when they died?” His voice was gruff, his hand tightened on hers.
“No, you didn't.” A blank mask had dropped over Mason's face as he stared at the grave markers and she wasn't sure she wanted to know.