“Christ. Get a room.”
A familiar voice broke us both from our erotic moment, and I remembered we were still on a busy sidewalk, in the sweltering humidity, just outside the ice cream shop.
I whirled toward the voice and found Ian standing there in a yankees cap. He wore a white fitted muscle shirt that showed off the intricate tattoos that covered his biceps and forearms. He gave me a half-smirk as he blatantly surveyed how my violet sun dress stuck damply to my form.
Mason cleared his throat.
“Nice rock.” Ian grinned with a wink in my direction.
“Thank you. It belonged to Mason’s grandmother,” I explained, but Ian was more interested in staring at my cleavage.
Oddly, Mason seemed to ignore Ian’s shameless admiration.
“We should get going before we fry on this pavement,” Mason added as casually as possible. He wrapped an arm around my waist. “I’m sure you have things you need to get done, Mr. Brennan.”
He looked pointedly at Ian. Ian gave a smile that could probably melt panties.
“I’ll see you both around.” He gave Mason a wink and then continued his way down the sidewalk.
“Come along,” Mason ushered me down the sidewalk before I could process that strange run-in with Ian. “I’m going to finish cleaning you up.” His growl was sinful as he forcefully guided me back to the glass doors of his hotel.
****
On Monday morning, Piper called to tell me that the office was going to be slow for the week and that I didn’t need to come in. I stared at the phone, profoundly confused.
“You can stay with Mrs. O’Malley, but give me a ring if you decide you want to go anywhere.” Mason said gently yet with a domineering tone.
What? Since when do I have to ask permission to go anywhere? Mason was never that controlling or protective in the past.
“Mason.” I snapped, watching him get ready for work. It was about six in the morning. I always loved watching him get ready for the office. Watching him tuck that crisp white button down over those taut olive muscles always made me wet for the rest of the day. Today, however… I wanted answers.
“Yes, my love?” He gave me a smile through his reflection in the mirror. I observed how the smile did not reach his eyes, as it often did. He observed his three-day stubble in the mirror, trying to ignore the inquisitive stare I gave him from the other side of the room.
“What’s going on?” I asked in a snippy tone.
He turned and looked at me with a half smirk on his handsome face. He was two seconds from charming my panties off, unless I got a grip on myself.
“You’ve been acting strange ever since your father called on our date night.” I persisted.
“Yes, I’m sorry about that. You know how he gets when he’s had too much of the drink. I try not to let it affect me, but he is still my father.” I watched him pull his light gray suit jacket over his muscled shoulders.
I pursed my lips. He was giving me an answer without actually giving me answers. Evasive, at best.
“I’m going to be your wife. You need to tell me things,” I cut in.
A smoldering gaze bore into me. “What’s going on is this: I’m going into the office. I will be home for lunch, and I expect you ready and waiting in my study at one o’clock, sharp.”
“And what if I disobey?” I narrowed my eyes, attempting to be a challenge. He was trying to distract me with sexual suggestions. Again.
His beautiful lips curled into a smile and his eyes darkened to the dare. “Oh, I hope you do.”
He turned back to the mirror and fastened his light gray silk tie. I was already wet and ready, and it was only six-thirty in the morning. I opened my mouth to make an argument, but he spoke instead.
“I almost forgot to tell you that I’ve been invited to a benefit on Friday evening. I had Elizabeth mail in the RSVP a few weeks ago, but I’m bloody terrible at remembering these things.”
“That’s why you have a secretary. She keeps your head screwed on tight.”
Mason let out a loud laugh. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and held me in place. I wore his rumpled white button-down from the night before and my hair was a mussed mess, but he didn’t seem to care. His hand slid slid beneath the partially-buttoned fabric and squeezed my breast.
“Mm. Does this mean I need to order take-out for one on Friday?” I closed my eyes.
His thumb and forefinger played with a single pink nipple, twisting and rolling it before he trailed his lips down the nape of my neck.
“Goddamn, Jillian. No.” His voice was gravelly between licks and nips down my neck. “You’re my fiance, not my dirty little secret. You’re my fiance. I want everyone to see that you are mine on Friday evening.”
My heart fluttered wildly in my chest from those words. I love this man, truly. Deeply.
“Everyone, including your family?” I asked in a hushed whisper.
His body tensed momentarily, and he retracted his hands. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about my family. I will deal with them in due time.” Those words were dominant, precise and direct.
I only nodded.
“You are my family.” His thumb and forefinger took my chin and tilted my gaze up to meet his. His eyes searched mine, wanting to be assured that I knew of his sincerity.
“I love you,” I whispered. It was all I could say at the moment. He knew how to leave me breathless.
“I know you do… and I know that you have been worried about my family’s reaction to our engagement. You needn’t worry about them. My choice is made.”
“Yes, but you know they won’t be quiet about this. Zara said-”
“Do not worry about them. Leave me to handle it.”
His lips planted a tender kiss on my forehead, then on my lips. After that, he left the penthouse.
****
“Shit. It must be unreal to have this kind of money to blow.” Elyse stood in the sitting room of Mason’s penthouse as she held up a royal blue silk gown.
My best friend was in awe of the private shopping spree that Mason had sent to the penthouse. I’ve never shopped from home before, not unless it was online, and this was an entirely different experience. There were at least a dozen gowns, shoes and jewelry to choose for tomorrow evening’s benefit. I have never been to such a fancy event before. Amy, Mason’s personal shopper, was present in the sitting room of the penthouse, and so was a stylist representing the boutique from which Mason placed his demands. Still, I called Elyse for help. I needed my best friend, and she was more than happy to offer her narrative feedback.
“This will make you look like a gold-digging whore,” she scrunched her nose and hung the skimpy blue gown back on the rack. The stylist representing the boutique gave Elyse an icy glare, which Elyse ignored.
“What is the benefit for?” She asked as she rummaged through the racks.
“It’s for Kids Against Grief. The charity is raising money for children who have suffered grief from losing one or both parents. It’s a really good cause. Have you heard of this organization?”
Elyse was quiet and her face was blank. “Yeah.” She picked up a dress, surveyed it, and then hung it up on the rack.
“It’s just too rich for my blood. It is ten thousand dollars a plate!”
“I hate to break it to you, babe. You’re marrying into that rich life.” Elyse smiled slightly in my direction, although her blue eyes still seemed empty.
“I can still see if I can get you on the list to come tonight,” I grinned.
“Fuck no.” Elyse answered with a slight smile. She looked at me. “Having to mingle with Jackson and all those rich-folk types? I’ll pass.”
“I noticed how you specifically mentioned his name.” I pulled a black gown from the rack and looked at it.
“Don’t get any ideas, honey. He’s no different than those jerks I dealt with in college.” She paused in her words for a second, then shook her head and continued perusing the selection.
Suddenly, her face lit up.
“This one! You have to try it on.” She was beaming as she held a plum, floor length silk gown. It was simple, yet stylish and elegant.
“That is very beautiful and the color will compliment your complexion,” Amy chimed in. She took the dress from Elyse and handed it to me. “We may have found a winner.”
I went into the guest bedroom and tried the dress on, but called Elyse in to help me zip up the back. I was hesitant as I viewed myself in the reflection. My hips looked so round and the neckline dipped a little too low for my tastes. I sucked on my lower lip as I debated silently.
“Oh wow.” Elyse breathed. “Gorgeous.”
“I’m my own worst critic.”
“Aren’t we all?” Elyse smiled. “There is only one problem I see with this dress.”
“What is that?” I blurted the question, thinking about my oh, so round hips.
“Mason might not make it through the night if he sees you in this. He won’t be able to keep his hands off you.” Elyse waggled her eyebrows at me in a suggestive manner.
I giggled softly as she helped me unzip the dress.
“Let’s pick out the accessories to go with this, and then I have to get to work.” Elyse smiled.
Elyse has always been selflessly supportive. She really is the best friend a girl could ask for…
25. Jillian Pryor
Elyse was correct. Mason could not keep his hands off me on the night of the Benefit. He took one look at me as I stepped into the sitting room and I saw the hunger and lust blaze in his eyes. The plum silk hugged my curves and draped in a soft ripple down to the floor. The neckline dipped low, but was not unsophisticated. Amy helped me choose a pair of sparkling diamond chandelier earrings and strappy heels to compliment the gown. My hair was tousled into curls that draped over one shoulder.
His eyes seared over my form, and his hands gripped my round hips firmly, pulling me into his hard body. I felt the hard raging erection in his black tuxedo pants. It pressed into my stomach and my breathing hitched.
“The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can feel that hot, tight little cunt wrapped around my cock.” His whisper was sensuous in my ear.
Oh, my. I love his filthy words.
“I’m going to possess you tonight. You’ll feel my cock plunge so deep inside that sweet, tight little pussy, leaving my mark on you forever.”
Rich, dark promises. Liquid heat was already pooling in the lace between my thighs. A slow, delicious ache was forming down there.
He adjusted his pants to hide the raging need. I’d never seen him in a tux before, and that dull aching need for him was rapidly becoming a throb.
“I need a drink to dull the need,” Mason whispered into my ear. “What will you have?”
I bit my lower lip, overstimulated by the decor and the guests in attendance. The event was being held in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I felt both intimidated and in awe by all of the characters in attendance, and the lush decor.
“You know what I like,” I smiled.
“Oh, I know exactly what you like.” His lips quirked upwards into a predatory grin. Then, he kissed my hand and left me at our assigned table while he went to the bar. I watched him walk away, checking his phone while he approached the bar.
I looked around at the posh surroundings. Women in exquisite gowns sipped champagne. The men were all dressed in tuxedos. I felt out of place. I’d like to say that nobody was paying attention to me, but that’s not true. The women surveyed me up and down, and their eyes always landed on the ring on my finger. Some of them arched a perfectly manicured brow as they looked me up and down, then they’d turn and whisper to one another.
There’s Mason Woodward’s new flavor, I could almost hear them say. I sucked in a deep breath and looked around uncomfortably, attempting to hold my head high. I could play their game.
I’m not his flavor. I’m his Queen.
“Jillian Pryor?” The voice was familiar, although I knew I hadn’t heard it in a while. It was surprised and quizzical.
A severely uncomfortable sensation spread over me upon hearing that voice. I looked up to see a beautiful woman, average in height staring down at me with sharp eyes. Her smile was feigned, and painted on with expensive red gloss. Her dark hair was pinned in a tight twist at the back of her head. The diamonds that glittered around her tanned neck were bulky and gaudy.
She stood with with two other women, who appeared to be in their early forties. Each of them were programmed to fake their smiles. Seeing these women reminded me of my days in Catholic High School, when I briefly tried to impress Nicole Balinski’s flock of sheep.
The uneasy discomfort continued to make my heart thrum in my chest. I felt completely awkward as I sat alone at that round table. I wished Elyse was here. She would have dished out some commentary that would have made these elitist women cringe with shock.
“Mrs. Sloane, what an unexpected surprise,” I looked up and greeted with the same fake plastic smile.
“I can say the same thing,” She continued the facade and glanced between her two female friends. She was pretending to be nice, but I knew what she was really meaning.
“So the rumors are true? Or are you here as a nanny escort?”
Seriously?
“I don’t know what rumors you are talking about, but why would a nanny escort this type of event? I see no children.” I looked around briefly, then looked my former employer squarely in the eyes.
Her comment was meant to be an insult, but it was a bad one. She sounded like an idiot.
“I see you’ve moved up in scale.”
“That is perhaps the most unintelligent thing I have heard in a long while.” I stared the woman down. I’ve never been gifted with quick wit when it comes to confrontation, but truth is truth.
“You’re a little out of your league. Don’t you think?” She finally addressed her point without dancing around the subject. The last time she’d seen me, I was just a geeky college student, a Brooklyn nobody who was trying to make a dollar to pay her way through school.
Three smug smiles faced me. My expression was dry. Really?
“Who is out of her league?”
Mason’s voice tore all of us from the moment. His inflection was commanding, and his gaze was turbulent as he glanced between the three women and me. “I do hope you were not addressing that question toward my fiance.”
He stood there, eyes blazing, holding a scotch in one hand and a glass of white wine in the other. Smoothly, he walked around the table and fluidly set the drinks down. The three women watched silently as he knelt over and kissed my cheek, and placed a hand possessively on my shoulder. He looked at them pointedly.
“That was a rather rude question, don’t you think, Mrs. Sloane?”
My former employer pursed her lips into a thin red line. I could see the heat flushing her face from embarrassment. Her two companions shifted uncomfortably.
Oh, my Mason.
“You have never found me posing that question to either you or your husband regarding these events.” Mason gave them a reserved smile. “... Even though I am very well aware that you cannot afford ten thousand dollars a plate. Have a pleasant evening.” He nodded to them in dismissal, as though they were nothing more than employees in his company.
Mrs. Sloane swallowed hard, overcome with humiliation. Without a word, she left our table. The ladies who accompanied her seemed less interested in being her friend after that. They drifted apart and floated back to their husbands or dates.
I inhaled deeply and exhaled, feeling my nerves.
“I’m sorry. I should have known better than to leave you to the wolves at a place like this. Are you alright?” His lips were lush against my cheek, and he handed me the crystal wine glass.
I took it gratefully and sipped. “You will have to leave me sometimes. You won’t always be around to babysit me, darling.”
He nodded, distractedly. There was still a
storm cloud around him. I could see it in his eyes, in the knot of his jaw. It has been a while since I saw that tense knot in his jaw. His hands curled tightly around his scotch glass and he downed the contents in one swig. Something was very wrong.
He looked around the room as he set the empty scotch glass on the clothed table. The expression on his face would easily cause discomfort to anybody who didn’t know him well.
“Mason… what is it?” I asked. I was extremely worried.
“We will not be staying for long,” he responded.
Jackson suddenly approached our table. I was so focused on Mason’s unstable demeanor that I didn’t even notice his cousin make his way over to us. A tall, gorgeous woman with silky black hair and creamy skin was at his side. She was most likely a model. She wore a sleek black, floor-length gown and there was a dazzling diamond choker around her throat. She smiled at Mason with interest.
“I just got the call from Piper,” Jackson said as he approached. He nodded at me with a polite smile.
“Hello Jillian. Congratulations on deciding to say yes to this boy here.”
“Thanks, Jax.” I smiled tightly, and I looked to Mason with concern.
“...Yes, she’s been ringing my phone, and Zara as well.” Mason rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
I was beyond confused by this cryptic conversation. I looked at Mason, and he seemed so far away at that moment.
“What happened?” I looked at Jackson, hoping to get more answers from him than I’d get from Mason at this point.
Jackson looked between the two of us and quirked an eyebrow at us.
“Mason’s father, my uncle, passed away last night. It’s been on the BBC World News in the last hour.”
The model at Jackson’s side remained silent, as though she was programmed to just stand there and look pretty.
Queen In Play (The Manhattan Tales Book 2) Page 21