Page 4 of Mase
“Please. I need you. I need you more now than ever, Mason.”
“I’m here,” I whisper, but something has changed, something I can’t acknowledge because I need to be here for her.
I need to follow through with my promise.
ONE
SUMMER
I swipemy sweaty palms down my white linen dress and take a deep breath. This is it. This one night is going to change my entire life.
In only a few short months, I’ll finally be free.
From the moment I was matched with this man on theIndulgenceapp, I felt a connection.
Of course, we’ve barely exchanged more than sexual preferences, but in his photo, I captured the longing in his green eyes that made them appear darker and found myself completely transfixed. The longer I looked into his orbs, the more I felt like I was seeing deep into his soul.
Something told me he’d been hurt, that this was more than sex for him, and I knew he would take good care of me just from the description on his profile. He was searching for something, and for tonight, I hoped that something was me.
If only for this one night, when I sold myself for someone else’s pleasure.
My mind flips through some of our exchanges, and I’m quite possibly out of my depth.
Saintly Sinner: Are you as innocent as you’re trying to portray?
Innocent Angel: Do you want me to be?
Saintly Sinner: Yes. Although, I’d love someone who is innocent but happy to feed into my darkest thoughts.
Innocent Angel: Like what? What dark thoughts?
Saintly Sinner: I want to take you roughly. Uncaring if I hurt you. But I want to know you’re enjoying having me treat you like my fuck toy and using you.
Innocent Angel: I can be whatever you want me to be.
Saintly Sinner: I only want you to be one thing.
Innocent Angel: What’s that?
Saintly Sinner: Completely innocent.
He asked for completely innocent, so that’s exactly what he’s going to get.
MASE
The whiskey burns my throat as I knock back another glass. I contemplate using the little blue pill that Tate somehow managed to get a hold of for me, then decide against it. I’ve waited so fucking long for tonight—days, weeks, months, years, and the last thing I want is to fuck this up and to not feel everything after not feeling a damn thing for so long.
Besides, I pride myself on never doing drugs, especially after the shit that happened to Tara and the scumbag she got messed up with. When he and their baby died, I had a choice: to support my wife or walk away. She begged and pleaded with me, telling me she was addicted to prescription pills to help with her mental health, and I believed her. I shouldn’t have, I should have walked the fuck away then and there and slammed the door behind me. Not spend nearly ten years trying to make us work, knowing damn well she was heartless.
I stood back and watched her fuck her way through the town. I listened with envy to my best friends’ countless sexual encounters, and not once have I strayed.
But fuck, did I want to.
Until the guilt hit.
I promised to be a better man than the one I loathed, and I was, even if I didn’t feel like it.
My body is ready for this, it’s ready to be the person I so desperately want to be.
