Page 41 of King of Sinners

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Charlotte

I lounge back against Mason, the giant tub easily holding us both. The warm water had been filled with Epsom salt and it is doing wonders to soothe my sore skin.

Mason washes my arms, my legs, my stomach, his hands stroking over my skin, but he’d been careful to keep his touches sweet and not sexual.

That didn’t stop me from feeling his erection pressed into my behind.

I reach back to skate my fingers along the engorged skin, but he stops me. “You need a break and I need to get to work.”

I sigh out my disappointment as he kisses me and then rises up from the bath, stepping out and into the shower as I watch from the tub, the sight of his hands skimming over his own skin, sending my pulse racing once again. The man is a god. I rest my face on the cool tile of the tub’s edge, wishing we could hide from the world and stay wrapped in this cocoon for a little while longer. Even if it’s mostly fiction, it’s been wonderful.

Mason turns off the shower, opening the glass door and wrapping a towel low on his hips, his chest and abs still on full display. I can’t get enough of looking at this man. Leaning over the tub, he kisses me again, my lips clinging to his as I close my eyes.

“Cold yet?” his fingers gently brush over my cheek.

“Almost.”

He reaches for my hand, clasping my fingers in his and then pulls me out, stepping back into his shower and turning it on.

A wave of emotion rises up in my chest as he closes the shower door, leaving me to my shower. I could get used to being cared for. How long had it been?

Dipping my head under the hot spray, I wash up and then wrap in a towel, heading out of Mason’s room and into my own.

As I step out into the hall, he calls from the kitchen. “I’ll be back tonight. Breakfast is already out.”

I pivot, stepping into the living room. “Bye.” The word comes out tight. Last night and this morning had been like a dream, and they’d left me feeling…vulnerable. Emotional.

Does he do this with all the women he’s dated? Because I’d made that comment about playing house…but this didn’t feel like play. It feels real and it’s messing with my head.

Our engagement is fake. It’s for my protection and his…enjoyment? That doesn’t feel quite right. I look down at the diamond sparkling on my finger, wondering if it holds any answers.

He comes to my side, giving me one more long kiss before he’s gone. I can’t see the elevator from here, the hallway blocking the doors, but I can hear it close, the soft whir of it carrying Mason down to the parking garage.

My head dips as I turn to my room, facing another day of being alone with little to do.

I take my time getting ready, testing all my new makeup and products, carefully blowing out my hair.

I look at the effect in my bathroom mirror, turning my head. I look like a billionaire’s fiancé, styled like this.

Going into my closet, I pick out a dress, and then put on my jewelry. One hour down, many more to go…

Grabbing my laptop, I decide to look through my pictures, check my email, and send a message to Kim. It’s been way too long since I reached out and she must be worried. We’re talk-every-day kind of friends.

But as I open my account, the first email that catches my attention is sent from UNLV. My heart leaps into my throat.

With a trembling hand, I click open the email to find my worst nightmare come to life. In completely plain terms, the email states that the university would allow me to walk during graduation, but if I wished to receive my degree, I’d have to repeat my visual arts class. It’s a requirement for the degree and my grade is failing.

My vision blurs as my hand comes to my mouth. I have so few things I really want to complete in my life…

I probably would have left Vegas after what had happened with the Kincaids two years ago. I’ve been fighting the urge to flee, but I’d held back because this was more important.

Mason alluded to the fact that I was a runner last night, and I’m not sure he’s wrong. After my mom left, I convinced my dad to move to a new town. I didn’t want to be known as the girl whose mom didn’t love her enough to stay.

In high school, I’d quit track when my coach pressed me to be tougher. I was a hard worker, but he seemed like the type who’d never be pleased. And after my dad’s death, it had taken everything in me not to leave Vegas. My degree had been the only thing holding me here.

And now…it’s slipping through my fingers.

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