Chapter Twenty
Iwokethenextmorning tucked safely inside of Mason’s enormous bed. Light filtered through the window, warm and inviting, far enough away that it didn’t hurt my eyes. Having a large bedroom had more perks than I initially expected. The down comforter wrapped around me like a cocoon of pure warmth and fluffiness.Why don’t I own one of these?I wondered for a moment, before remembering it likely cost more than I would spend on a car.
Mason was already dressed in a tailored blue suit with a silver tie. His gelled hair and perfect face brought back delicious memories of the previous night. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, scratching at the skin beneath it, followed by his tongue. I blushed furiously as I thought of all the things he did to me with it and how thoroughly I enjoyed them. With cataclysmic force, the awful images of the night before also replayed in my head, ripping away thoughts of pleasure and replacing them with fear and pain. It took me a moment to make space for all the mixed emotions raging within me, and I grimaced as I sat up.
“You should call in sick today,” he told me while straightening his tie and fiddling with his cufflinks. “Last night was too much. I’m worried about you pushing yourself too hard.”
“I’m not doing that. There are too many things to do, and I’m still on my probationary period.” I pushed the blanket off of myself, and his gaze flicked over me with intense heat. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m excellent at compartmentalization.”
He rolled his eyes as they met my face. “I expected as much, but even you have your limits.”
“What do you know about my limits?”
He smiled at me in the mirror’s reflection. “Not enough, but I plan to learn more.” I giggled as I stretched. “Seriously, Claire, this is all going to come crashing down at some point and it would likely be better for your career to do that here instead of at work.”
I ran my hands through my hair. He could be right. I still hadn’t lost my shit over what happened, and full-on sobs were close by, but for now, I was in control of myself. “I can leave if I feel it coming on, but I need to at least make an appearance.”
He nodded, noncommittally, and pointed to a chair in the corner. “That outfit should fit, and is work appropriate.”
I walked over to the clothes he pointed to, my body sore and used, but in the best way. He fucked me within an inch of my life twice the previous night, though so much happened, it felt like a few days rather than a few hours. I stretched and groaned, catching his watchful eyes in the mirror above the dresser as he checked me out. The items were beautiful, the right size, and nicer than anything I owned.
“This is too much, Mason.” I picked up the silk blouse, shivering at how wonderfully it brushed against my skin.
He walked toward me with that delicious, predatory gleam in his eyes. “It’s not, and they are the least of the things I plan to give you.” He placed his hand gently on the small of my back and pressed a kiss beneath my ear. “Shower, get dressed. Breakfast is ready for you downstairs. My driver will take you in, andno,he is not involved in any unsavory activities. He just works for me.” He winked at me, suggesting that anything to do with him must be untoward. From the residual sting in my ass cheeks, I had to agree.
“Okay,” I sighed, feeling a little inadequate in the face of all this largess. We could argue about all this later; the clock above his armoire said I only had time for getting to work or fighting, and I decided on the more responsible of the two choices. “What’s your driver’s name?”
After I finished taking the best shower of my life, and dressing in the nicest clothes I ever wore, I went down to the nook Mason and I sat in the night before and found Rochelle fussing over an espresso machine.
“Oh, Ms. Green, Mason told me you favor lattes. Your breakfast is on the table and I’ll have your coffee for you in a moment.”
“Um, thank you,” I muttered, feeling awkward, but not wanting to interrupt her doing her job as instructed. I got the distinct impression that arguing with anyone around here about Mason’s orders would result in nothing but them being as uncomfortable as I was. She left me alone to drink the best latte I ever had, and to eat a crab meat eggs benedict. I groaned outright as I ate, glad to be alone and not have to worry about how embarrassing my reaction to the food was.
I put the dishes in the sink, hating that I was leaving them for someone else but knowing that’s what was expected. Dishes in my sink at home didn’t bother me because I was the one coming back to them. I shook my head, forcing myself to get over the remorse of making other people clean up after me. I would be here for at least a few days, and it would make everyone’s lives easier if I played along.
I stepped out the front door, finding Lawrence standing outside a black town car waiting for me. The temperature dropped several degrees overnight and the cool breeze nipped at my skin.
“Good morning, Ms. Green. Are you ready to head out?” Lawrence wore a crisp suit, and I nearly rolled my eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation.
“Good morning, Lawrence. Yes, I am.” I couldn’t blame him for myboyfriendhaving more money than sense and ridiculous ideas about how things should be. As I did with Rochelle, I accepted the service amicably, though I would rather not. He opened the door for me, and I ducked in, settling into the soft leather. Mason was sweet for doing this for me, but I seldom ate in restaurants, and being waited on to this extent made me jumpy. I twitched nervously the entire ride, feeling like I should do something, help in some way.
We pulled up at the library at eight-thirty. Emma stood on the steps, glancing around. I almost laughed at the confusion on her face as I stepped out of the car, and then the smile when she realized it was me.
“You had me worried!” she shouted as I approached. “You are literally never late, and I’m the one who brought you out last night.” She shook her head like she regretted the idea. “Mason seemed pissed. Is everything okay with him? What happened after you left, and why exactly did he take you to thebackof the club?” She jabbered at me relentlessly as I walked up to the door. I rolled my eyes at her. As I put the key in the lock, she placed a hand on my shoulder, trying to look serious. “Claire, were you screwing him atmycelebration?” She would enjoy nothing more than to hear that I was.
“Emma, aren’t you hungover? You talk too much.”
She laughed as I pushed the doors open and let us in. “Yes, I am, but I took some aspirin and drank some pickle juice. So, I’m okay.”
“Pickle juice?” I gaped at her. “You drank pickle juice? Why the hell would you dothat?”
“What? It’s great for a hangover!”
“If you say so.” I shivered at the thought and headed back to my office to do my usual checking in. My breath caught as I opened up my emails. I exhaled, finding only normal library-related questions awaited me. I put my head between my knees, hyperventilating as I tried to calm down, and wondered if the breakdown Mason predicted was on the horizon.Stay alert.I reminded myself.No email doesn’t mean no trouble.
Whoever this person was, they wanted me to suffer, and maybe they thought of a better way to do it than sitting behind a keyboard.Like destroying everything you own.My text notification went off, and I checked my phone to find a message from Mason.
Mason: Claire, I hope you are well. Do not leave without Lawrence. He will take you wherever you want to go. He has my credit card in case you need anything. Do not go home. It's not safe. I will have everything you might need delivered here. Be safe.