His Wicked Love

by Anya Summers

  Although, judging by his complete and utter avoidance of her today, it appeared Mason preferred to maintain boundaries and keep their relationship strictly physical. That was fine by Emily. If that was what he wanted, she would roll the dice that way.

  When Tibby took over the dinner rush, Emily headed home and showered quickly. She dressed casually in jeans and an easy to remove blouse. Then she trudged back over to the lodge in search of Mason. She wanted him. And she needed to prove to herself that she could make it just a physical relationship.

  She knew he tended to sequester himself in his office. The door was open. And there he was, all big and broad-shouldered, hunched over paperwork. His hat was off. His hair looked like he ran his hand through it a hundred times today. She liked his disheveled appearance. It made him more real and infinitely more likeable. It softened his normally gruff edges. She liked the way he looked, period. And the way he looked without his clothes on was enough to make her hormones sigh. The man took her breath away in his mocha flannel shirt. He’d rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, the sinewy muscles in his arms flexing as he worked.

  Now that she had been with Mason, she couldn’t go back to ignoring the fact that he seemed to know just the right temperature to bring her body to a boil. Just looking at him, she felt moisture between her thighs. Need hammered her veins. Her nipples hardened.

  She shifted and his caramel gaze snapped up from whatever had him so engrossed at his desk.

  His body was rigid, with lines of tension in his broad shoulders. His face was shuttered, his jaw clenched. Except his eyes gave him away—liquid pools of lust that darkened as she entered the office.

  Her mind made up, Emily shut and locked the door behind her. Then she approached, noticing how his gaze flickered over her body. Heat pooled in her center. She put a little extra swagger into her hips, intending to draw his gaze. It worked. The man wanted her.

  Mason cleared his throat and acted as if he was unfazed by her entrance. “What do you think you’re doing, Emily?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” Emily sauntered over and undressed with each step. She toed off the ballerina flats she’d slipped on. Unbuttoned her white blouse and let it flutter to the floor. Mason’s gaze caressed her exposed flesh, stopping at the black lace bra barely covering her cleavage. She shimmied out of her jeans, but not before removing the foil packet she had placed in her back pocket.

  Her blood thrummed in anticipation as she advanced until she stood before him in nothing but her black lace bra and panties. Mason didn’t move to touch her. She watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. His lips were pressed into a thin line. His hands gripped the arm rests of his chair.

  Desire—for her—was evident in every hard plane and angle in his rigid body.

  If he wasn’t going to take the initiative, then she would. Emily straddled his lap and hissed at finding him rock hard in his jeans. She rocked her hips against his groin and moaned in the back of her throat at the delicious, hot feel of him. She braced her hands on his firm shoulders and leaned forward, nipping his lower lip between her teeth.

  “Emily. Fuck,” Mason said as he caved, finally putting his hands on her. They caressed the slope of her spine until his big hands gripped her ass. His touch singed her to her toes.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I want. I want to fuck, Mason. Let me, Sir,” she said, panting. Need coursed through her system, overriding everything else. She needed him inside her. Needed to feel every solid inch of him. When her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, she yanked at the material, ripping buttons off in her haste to feel his flesh beneath her palms.

  She moaned when she traced the hard lines of his rock hard stomach down to his belt buckle.

  She planted her lips over his when she freed his shaft from his jeans. Mason capitulated with a rough growl. Granted, it could be because now she had her hand around his cock. Men were fairly easy in that regard. But she loved the feel of him in her hands. That this was the first time she was free to touch him as she liked. She stroked his silky-smooth member with her hands, trailing her fingers over the velvety crest. She traced over the veins to the base of his shaft, where she surrounded his cock and squeezed him.

  At his groan, she lifted her mouth from his and ripped open the foil packet. With his hot gaze following her movements, she rolled the condom over his length.

  Then Mason’s hands were at her pussy, shifting her panties to the side as she lifted her hips. He stroked through her labia. Pleasure simmered as he delved between her slick folds, and she mewled. At finding her drenched heat, he lifted her hips up as she fit the head of his cock at her entrance. Emily lifted her gaze and held his as she thrust down, enveloping his length.

  She moaned.

  Her hands dug into his muscled shoulders as she rocked her hips, setting the rhythm and pace. He was so huge. His shaft triggered every pleasure sensor in her sheath. She rolled her hips in a clockwise motion as she canted her hips. Mason let her have control for all of two glorious minutes. Then his hands clamped on her hips, fingers digging into his flesh, and he moved her over his cock.

  He thrust and met her time and again until she was moaning his name like a litany, trying to remember to call him ‘Sir’ and failing.

  One of his big hands drew back and smacked her across the butt. The slice of pain combined with the pleasure as she thrust down.

  Emily came. Hard.

  “Oh, Mason,” she keened. Her head fell back as she rode him and the waves of her climax as it roiled through her body.

  Mason pumped his fat cock inside her quaking heat over and over, setting off another round of tremors. His lips sucked and nipped at the sensitive hollow of her neck. Her hands threaded into his hair to hold him in place. Then he strained and mumbled a deep, masculine groan of satisfaction against her skin. His shaft jerked inside her sheath as he climaxed. His fingers dug into her buttocks, moving her until his tremors ceased.

  When his hold slackened, before he could hold her close and make her feel things for him, she shifted in his lap. Mason tried to stop her as she climbed off him.

  “Wait. Where are you going?” he asked, confusion and satiation clouding his face, along with banked lust at watching her boobs jiggle.

  “Thanks for that. I have an early morning,” she explained, dressing as quickly as possible. Hard to do when her legs were the consistency of jello, but she managed.

  “But Emily,” he said, reaching for her.

  Yet she skedaddled out the door before he could stop her. Then she heard him cursing as she left the door to his office open as she exited. She didn’t do it to be mean. She just didn’t want him to follow her right now.

  If he was going to make their relationship strictly about sex, then so could she.

  Mason wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, other than the fact that Emily had just ridden him like a cowgirl. He shut his office door fast before anyone caught him in his state of undress.

  He’d kept himself away from the kitchen on purpose. Because he knew deep down he was weak where she was concerned. He’d had a taste of her. Once wasn’t enough. Twice wasn’t enough. And now, he very much feared he would never have enough of her.

  She’d been a vision. Her hair still up in a messy bun with tendrils escaping. He’d watched her striptease as she had sashayed toward him. They would have had to dynamite him out of his chair. Mason hadn’t been able to move. He’d grown hard instantly. And then she’d straddled him and she had consumed him.

  She’d rocked his world and then left so swiftly, he was surprised she hadn’t left a trail of fire in her wake.

  As he straightened himself up and disposed of the condom, he wished he could say that it changed things. That he could give in. But there was too much at stake. That had to be the last time.

  If he tasted her again, he didn’t know that he’d be strong enough, unselfish enough, to let her go. Not when everything inside him roared that she belonged to him. That sh
e was his submissive. That until now, he’d merely been biding his time until her advent into his life.

  Chapter 16

  In his office the following day, Mason and his brother had a meeting. One of the main rules they had established when they decided to go into business together some ten years ago, was that they keep the business side of things, the running of the lodge, out of their house as much as possible. Living together could be trying enough. Adding in the element of working with each other with their marginally different personalities, while it was an asset as it helped them offer more and gave the other someone to brainstorm ideas with, it could also spell disaster if they weren’t careful.

  Today, with the continuing theme of attempting to save the lodge from going under, they had the lodge accounts between them. Mason sipped his black coffee, which had gone cold. It didn’t matter. He needed the infusion of caffeine.

  Before the theft, he’d looked forward to balancing the accounts. He’d almost been cocky about it. And perhaps therein lay his arrogance and why he’d never seen the potential betrayal. In the first year he and Cole had opened this place, they’d managed to eke out a profit. Those profits had continued and grown each year. Had created a surplus beyond their wildest imaginings.

  “If these numbers are correct, the daily totals in the restaurant have increased steadily since we re-opened by nearly fifty percent, with the specials accounting for more than half the revenue,” Cole commented.

  “They are. I’ve triple checked them to be certain. The changes Emily made to the menu have done well. I’ve had the front desk contacting the cancellations that came in due to the restaurant being shut down, offering a twenty percent off discount if they rebook with the explanation that the restaurant has been re-opened with a fabulous new chef.”

  “Any takers?” Cole asked.

  “About half so far. It helps. We’re making a comeback. And Billie is still working her way down the list,” Mason said. It was a good, positive direction, even though they were nowhere near their typical operating capacity for this time of year. And they still had miles to go before he could relax. It wasn’t turning over as swiftly as he would like. He still felt like his balls were in a pincer over their finances. Yet it was a start.

  “If the trend continues, we might eke it out past Christmas.”

  Concern creased his forehead and, rubbing a pensive hand over his beard, Cole said, awareness in his eyes, “It’s still not enough though. Not with the damage that’s been done.”

  “No, it’s not.” And for that, the fault and the responsibility rested on Mason’s shoulders. He realized he wasn’t the one who had drained their savings. But he’d been the one to hire her. He’d been the one to trust her. His judgement, his skill for reading women, had been so far off with her as to be nonexistent.

  “Well, it’s a step in the right direction. I’ve been thinking of ways to help increase revenue. Why don’t we offer a few packages that have free fishing expeditions tacked on, free guided hikes and the like? I don’t need a paycheck for the foreseeable future. And I won’t take one until this place is in the clear.”

  “You sure about that?” Mason asked. He already wasn’t drawing a salary until their accounts were fixed, and to help supplement what he was paying Emily.

  “As long as the employees are paid, yep. I have a nest egg I can draw from for things I need,” Cole stated with a nonchalant shrug.

  “I don’t want you taking anything from your cabin fund, Cole.” To hell with that. Mason wouldn’t let Cole pay for his mistake.

  But Cole being Cole, and much more level-headed of the two of them, replied, “So it will take me another year until I can have work on my place begin. All it means is that we’ll have to live together a while longer. It works, as long as your panties aren’t in a twist over something.”

  “Cole.”

  “Cut the shit, Mase. We’re in dire straits here and you know it. As part owner, my word on these matters is just as final as yours. Just because I let you run the day to day operations of this place doesn’t mean I can’t put two and two together. If I don’t draw a salary for the next six months, it will help out the bottom line. This is what we are going to do, period. And I won’t take no for an answer. Now, I’m going to put together those packages we discussed and email all my previous clients. Even if twenty percent of them take the bait for a free day or two on the water, it will increase revenue.” Cole finished his diatribe with a stubborn expression over his face, so like their father’s. Mason knew the look. It meant Cole was digging his heels in and Mason would have an easier time of it moving one of the nearby mountains than he would his brother.

  It was guilt more than anything that stopped Mason from getting angry or arguing with him. Cole was putting off his dream, his desire to build his own home on the land they owned away from the main lodge grounds, because of him.

  “Fine. I’ll agree to it, but mainly because I don’t want to fight with you on this,” Mason replied. Out of the corner of his gaze, he noticed something fluttering near the door. He glanced up. The door to his office was cracked open a sliver, doing a damn fine job of concealing who was eavesdropping on their conversation. Except the few fiery strands of red hair were unmistakable.

  “Come in, Emily. Shut the door and have a seat,” he commanded, making sure she understood from his tone that disobedience would not be tolerated.

  She peeked in, her lower lip between her teeth, apprehension dotting her visage, holding a manila file folder in her hands. Mason indicated with a wave toward the unoccupied chair. If she so much as stepped a toe out of line, he would spank the fucking hell out of her. This was not the time for her to act out in any manner, or snoop on private conversations. If the confidential information she’d overheard got out, it could cause a panic among the staff. The gossip alone could be detrimental to the lodge’s financial comeback.

  He raked her form with his gaze, noting the stiff lines of tension. Her propensity for curiosity was absolutely the last type of problem he needed. Emily did as he asked her, for once, and slid gingerly onto the leather chair.

  Her vibrant energy illuminated his office.

  When she was settled, he pinned her with his gaze and asked, “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough. You didn’t think to tell me that you could be out of business by the end of the year?” she said, not cowering or denying that she’d overheard their conversation about the lodge’s troubles. At least she was honest. That had to count for something.

  Mason controlled his expression and replied, “It’s need to know only, and technically isn’t our fault.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

  “Look, what I’m about to tell you stays here. If you breathe a word of it to anyone, I won’t hesitate to give you the fucking spanking you’ll deserve. The previous chef embezzled funds. The court and the police have not been able to track down what they did with the money they stole. If it looks like we can’t keep this place open past the new year because of the situation, we will notify the staff and give everyone a nice severance package. Besides, didn’t you tell me you were quitting?”

  She snorted and rolled her eyes at him over his threat of discipline. Mason contained the smile her response evoked. Only Emily was so glib with him. And yet he noted the blush that spread across her cheeks, the slightly rosy hue that told him she wasn’t as unaffected by his threat as she let on. His hands itched to tame her, touch the spark that was uniquely her.

  Her eyes glittered with bemusement and she said, “Now you’re going to remember that. Your secret is safe with me, for what it’s worth. And maybe I can help.”

  “Honey, unless you have a wad of cash stored somewhere, I doubt it,” Mason quipped, although the tightly wound ball of stress that had been lodged in his chest relaxed some. Emily wasn’t anything like their previous chef, in temperament or design. And her desire to be of assistance made him like her more than he already did.


  “Cooking classes,” she replied confidently, an air of shimmering excitement emanating from her.

  “Excuse me?” Mason asked. Cooking classes? Why would they want to offer those? It didn’t make sense.

  “Add it to the menu of activities offered to lodge guests for a nominal additional fee, just like you do with the various expeditions Cole leads. We charge a fee that covers the cost of supplies and my know how, plus some extra for the lodge. They’re all the rage in the big cities. It doesn’t even have to be what’s on the menu, but basics and couples’ cooking and stuff for kids. There would need to be insurance extended for potential injury but it’s not much to add to the coverage likely already on this place. Plus, the possible income stream would make the profits outweigh the risk.”

  “And how much do you want for your fee?” Mason asked, looking at her through new eyes. It could work. He hadn’t expected her to have such a head for business, which had been stupid and arrogant of him. Emily was intelligent and adventurous. She had a keen eye for what brought people into a restaurant. Extending that knowledge into other avenues associated with the restaurant was something he needed to start trusting. Her instincts thus far had been dead on. But what was her angle? What did she want in return?

  “I would tack on twenty-five percent for the lodge, and then ten percent for myself above the costs of material. However, for the first year, I would let all the profits above the cost of materials go directly to the lodge in return for a stake in the restaurant,” Emily stated.

  “You want to own part of the Elkhorn?” he asked, stymied. She wanted to be a partner in the restaurant? Mason knew she’d been angling for something, but this wasn’t what he’d expected. Cole’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared under his hat at her pronouncement.

  “Yes. And I’d want full control over the menu,” she replied, and for once her expressive face was unreadable.

  Her idea had some merit. Mason really wanted to know where she’d learned the business savvy skills she was displaying. It would require more conversation than he’d had with her so far. He already knew from watching her that she had a solid work ethic, that the kitchen and wait staff adored her, that guests were charmed by her. And he wanted to know more. That was a first for him. Typically, after the fun times with a sub were finished, he moved on to the next.