Page 44 of Choosing the right Man

“Are you ready?” he asks. The question jolts me back to reality.

“Yes. Let me grab my purse and jacket.” I snatch the flimsy cover-up from the back of a chair, and he takes it from my fingers. I turn as he carefully positions it over my back, his fingers trailing the naked skin of my shoulders.

Goosebumps appear on my flesh. There’s no way he doesn’t see my response to him. There’s no point in trying to hide it. Perhaps it’s time for me to let happen what’s going to happen.

I grab my purse, and he leads me from the house. I don’t glance at any of my neighbor’s homes. I don’t want to know if they’re looking out, if they’re wondering why I’m dressed up, why there’s a strange man escorting me down the walk. I can’t say it’s innocent and nothing more than a work thing, because I know it isn’t.

Something’s going to happen — and it will happen soon.

His driver is in front of a large black SUV. I’m glad to have a chaperone, knowing my inhibitions are lowering by the minute. The driver, Rex, the same man who took me to the airport, smiles, and I greet him. He holds open the back door, and I slide in. I’m full of nerves as Mason moves in beside me, sitting far too close. I notice there’s privacy glass between us and the driver. My stomach flutters. There goes my chaperone.

“Look at me,” Mason demands.

I move in slow motion as I turn my head and do what he huskily demands. Our eyes meet and hold. My breathing deepens, and his scent envelopes me. I squeeze my legs together, the pressure unbearable. I feel all of this from nothing more than a kiss on the fingers and a few words. But I know the power of his touch, know what it does to me.

“Are you done fighting this?”

I’m silent as I try to work through the jumble of thoughts in my head. I sigh.

“This isn’t a work event, is it?” I ask.

“Yes, it is,” he tells me. “But I won’t lie. I want you on my arm.”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m in a relationship.” The words are a statement.

“You wouldn’t be here with me if it mattered,” he says.

He’s right. I wouldn’t be here with him. I wouldn’t desire him. My boyfriend left me long ago, as I left him. We’ve both broken our vows. It’s breaking my heart to finally realize this. I nod.

Mason doesn’t ask this time. One moment we’re separated, and the next, he pulls me over him, sitting me on his lap as he closes the space between us, taking my lips in a desperate kiss.

I don’t even pretend it isn’t what I want. I grab hold of him, my hands wrapping around his massive shoulders. I hold on tight as he ravishes my mouth, and his hands travel down my body.

The skirt of my dress hikes up as he caresses my bare thighs, then he shifts me so I straddle him. My knees are spread wide as I press forward, feeling the power of his hardness push against my damp panties.

My tongue tangles with his. I can’t get close enough, can’t feel enough. I want him fiercely and I’m not capable of waiting anymore. Trying to deny myself has been torture. He’s beautiful and desirable, and most importantly, hewantsme. He makesme feel like I’m special and needed, like I’m the only person he sees.

I want to reach between our bodies, want to feel the power of his erection, want to feel if he fits in my hand. I want to take him and guide him inside me. I’ve lost all interest in this dinner. I’ve made my decision, and all I want is to get naked with this man.

I reach for his pants, losing my mind in my desire to have him. His fingers slide beneath the elastic of my panties, and he groans when he slips them over my wet flesh. I’m more than ready for him.

The car stops.

It takes a moment for me to realize the front door has closed with a gentle finality. The driver is coming around. I lean back, mortified.

We gaze at each other. Mason’s face filled with pained passion. I’m sure mine looks exactly the same. Neither of us says a word. I don’t know what we’ll do next.

I watch as a shutter comes over Mason’s eyes. I watch him pull away from me. I’m hurt. I shrink a bit inside. I don’t understand what’s happening. I finally decide to give myself to him... and now he’s pulling away from me. Has it all been nothing more than a game? Has he simply wanted my surrender only to throw me away once he has it?

“I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened here. I don’t have sex in cars. I certainly don’t do it when I have to appear in front of clients. If I could skip this dinner and take you home, I would.”

His words are so cold and clinical. Have I been used and put back in place? This night started so magical, so wonderful for a few minutes, and is now utterly devastating. I want to run.

But I won’t. I committed to being here with him. I’m not going to show him how much his coldness hurts. He seems to betwo different men — the one pursuing me, and the cold man the rest of the world sees.

He unlocks the door, and it immediately opens. He steps out and holds a hand to help me. I brush it off. I’ll be professional, but I’ll do it on my own. I don’t need him. I’m through being rejected.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

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