“You’re just scared,” he continues, still walking toward me. The guy is relentless. “But you don’t need to be… I want you, Becca. I’ve dreamed of you every single night since I first saw you.” How do you spell creepy? Oh, right, R-o-b-e-r-t.
As if the universe conspired to save me from his advances, someone knocks on the door. I step out of his reach and walk hurriedly toward the door, turning the handle without bothering to ask who’s on the other side. My heart skips a beat as I see the man in front of me. Yes, I know what you’re thinking… And you’re right.
“Becca…” Mason says my name as he steps inside the apartment. In his clear blue eyes, I can almost see my reflection.
“Mason…” I say, my heart tightening up so much that I no longer know how in the world it continues to beat. He smiles tenderly at me, and then he notices that we’re not alone. He looks at Robert with one arched eyebrow, and I notice his eyes wandering to the bottle of wine on the counter. Finally, he look straight at Robert. His smile vanishes, and he purses his lips; I wish I could have a hole where I could hide right now.
He looks into my eyes, and I give him a weak smile. I’m sorry, I mouth, biting on my lower lip with regret. With a quick nod, I give him my assent to do what needs to be done.
“Get out,” he tells Robert, turning to him with a serious expression on his face. He’s completely relaxed, but I notice his hands balling into fists, almost as if he’s ready to crash them into Robert’s face at a moment’s notice.
“You can’t simply walk in here and --” Without bothering to hear what Robert has to say, Mason walks over to him and grabs him by the scruff of his shirt.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” He tells him, and I can almost see Robert shrinking in size. To have someone as imposing as Mason telling you to fuck off has be an intimidating experience. He opens his mouth to speak but, like a fish suffocating on too much oxygen, he simply closes it again. When Mason lets go of him, he straightens the collar of his shirt and, trying to act as dignified as possible - and failing miserably - he walks toward the door.
Before he leaves, he throws me a pissed off look and then simply storms out, slamming the door behind him. I turn to Mason at once, looking as apologetic as possible.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him, desperate to know everything about the tender expression he looks at me... Somehow, I already knows what he wants to say, but I need to hear it all the same.
“I was wrong, baby girl. I was so fucking wrong,” he whispers, closing the distance between him and I and placing both his hands on my hips.
"Fuck the world, Becca," he says. "They can fucking take everything from me. My company. My title. My money. But I swear to fucking God they will never take me away from you. Ever again."
Tears stream down my eyes.
"I fucking love you, baby girl," he tells me.
"I love you too, Daddy," I says with a mischievous smile - so happy that I feel drunk.
“And I’m sorry,” he says, his eyes penetrating mine.
“I’m… sorry as well,” I manage to say, biting on my bottom lip as I remember the look on Mason’s eyes as he realized I was all alone with Robert.
“No, that’s my fault for being a fucking idiot,” he whispers, and then leans in to kiss me. The moment our lips touch, everything is right with the world once more. Heartbreak? What does that even mean?
“Promise me,” I whisper, pressing my forehead against his, “promise me that you won’t leave ever again.”
“I promise,” he tells me with a smile, and then runs his fingers through my hair. I look into his eyes, my heart beating a tender song of love. When everything seemed lost, the wheel of Karma turned and turned and now here we are… Together. And nothing will ever come between us. I just know it; whatever it is that life throws at us, we won’t allow anything to pull us apart, not anymore.
“I love you, Mason.”
“I love you too, baby girl…”
We kiss again and I place my hands on his chest. I can feel his heart beating under the palm of my hand, and it almost feels like it’s beating at the same rhythm as mine. Guided by more than simple lust—love—I take my fingers to his collar and start unbuttoning his white shirt. My fingers move slowly, but they work at a steady pace. When I finally open all of the buttons, I pull on the fabric of his shirt and untuck it, hooking my fingers on his belt.
“I never wanted anyone as I want you…” I find myself saying, a growing wetness conquering the space between my thighs. If a few weeks ago someone told me that lust could be this wild and uncontrollable, I’d just laugh. But now… Now I’m not laughing, far from it. And I couldn’t be happier to be proven wrong.
“That makes two of us, baby girl…” he says, resting his hands on my shoulders and pulling the straps of the dress down my arms. I let him pull the fabric down my torso, and he only stops when my dress is hanging limply at my waist. With his fingers on my stomach, he runs them up to my breasts and, settling his hands over the cups of my bra, he squeezes gently. I feel my nipples hardening under his touch, and my pussy continues to grow wetter with each passing second.
With a smile, I unbuckle his belt and start to pull his pants’ zipper down, my hands no longer shaking. All the anxiety and fearfulness that I felt only a few minutes ago has already vanished, almost as if I had never felt it in the first place. It’s funny how things can change so fast. In one minute you’re down in a pit, the other you’re flying too close to the sun.
Turning my hand around, I gently place my fingers over his boxer briefs, my skin prickling as I feel his thick shape throbbing against the palm of my hand. And to think that, for a moment, I was almost sure that I would never feel his cock ever again… Curling my fingers around his member, I start moving my hand over his shaft, stroking him softly; at the same time, he pulls the right cup of my bra down, baring my hard nipple.
A gentle moan leaves my lips as he leans in, wrapping his lips around my rosy tip and sucking it into his mouth. Sliding one hand down the side of my body, he places it over my ass and squeezes my cheeks; with his other hand, he goes for the strap of my bra and, with a simple flick of his fingers, unhooks it. My fingers become tighter around his cock as he pulls my bra down, taking it off of my body.
Sighing as desire lulls me into a dreamlike state, I slide my hand under his boxer briefs and grab his cock again, my skin prickling as his warmness spreads to my fingers. I need him so much, God… It’s almost unreal.
With a knot in my throat—one of lust and desire—I let go of his cock and take one step back. Smiling, I turn my back to him and walk to the couch right in the middle of the living room, leading him by the hand. He comes after me willingly and, once I’m close to the couch, he pushes down. I sit up at once and, in one flowing movement, I hook my fingers on his boxers and push them down, sending them with his pants to his knees. His cock springs free at once, slapping the back of my hand, and I grab it almost immediately.