I have to end this marriage.
Becca
It's as if I'm under a spell. A spell cast by Mason Kane. Have you ever been so captivated by someone that you don't mind spending every waking minute with them? Well, that's how I feel about Mason. It's strange to admit, but it's true.
Sure, his ego is sometimes too big for his own good, but with that comes confidence.
I feel his intoxicating draw as soon as he steps next to me … his warmth, his strength, and his cologne—a mixture of leather, and spice, and seduction. And don't get me started about his suits. Anything would look good on a body like Mason's, it's true, but his suits elevate him to the next level. It's as if James Bond has handpicked his entire wardrobe. Classy and perfectly tailored. It's delicious.
There's something about him … his power, and success, and drive. He's driven in a way that few men are, and I find that incredibly sexy. When Mason walks into a room, he commands it, almost without effort. People turn, and stare, and want to know this man.
Many want to be him.
In that sense, he's my opposite. I was painfully shy in school. I'll admit it. I've gotten better over the years, but I've always admired people who don't have that level of social anxiety.
God, just listen to me.
I'm gushing on and on about a man who's technically my stepfather.
I shouldn't be feeling this way … but I have to admit that I do.
I think I'm really falling in love with this man.
I'm lying on my bed in the soft light of my room and I realize I better start packing. I promised Mason I'd come by his apartment later, and stay the night.
I tap my cell phone and check the time. It's almost 8 pm.
I jump up and rummage through the top drawer of my dresser … where I've neatly stashed an enviable collection of lingerie. I decide to pick out something a little … naughty. I grab a sheer, black lace set. You can't go wrong with black. It's sexy and classy, and flatters everyone who wears it. If you don't believe me, you can ask Aubrey Hepburn or even the stripper down the street at Scandals. And if you ask men, most will pick black. Yes it's true, more men, if given the choice, will choose black even over red.
Next, I spritz myself with a little perfume, something ultra feminine—a floral scent that is sexy, like walking through a secret garden of jasmine and orchids, and rolling around in a bed of roses. I dab some perfume on the pulse of my wrists, on my neck … and even a dab in between my thighs. The fragrance is impossible to miss, which is a good thing. When it comes to Mason, I want to be unforgettable.
I also need to also think about clothes for the morning. Maybe we'll splurge and grab breakfast at Norma's—their Papaya Mango Brown Butter Cinnamon crepes are seriously to die for. I'm not even exaggerating. If you haven't tried them hun, I suggest you do sometime.
And honestly, the thought of waking up next to Mason tomorrow morning makes me giddy. I don't know what's come over me, but the thought of nuzzling into his strong chiseled chest and walking hand-in-hand with the King of Wall Street down the streets of New York City is enough to make my heart leap.
A man has never made me feel this way before.
I lean down and zip up my overnight bag when I hear something.
There's a thump, and then I hear what sounds like two people laughing in the living room. It's normally quiet around this time, so the commotion piques my interest. Maybe my mother is talking to Carl? I didn't think mom was having any guests over tonight, so I walk over by the wall and strain to hear.
"You like what you see?" Lorna says. "This is just the beginning … a taste, if you will."
A man replies, “You think you’re going to have me?”
"Oh, just wait till I wrap my lips around—"
The rest of the conversation is muffled and I strain against the door to hear more. It's clear that something is going on, and then something else becomes crystal clear … the man's voice is … Mason.
What in the hell is he doing here? He's supposed to be at his apartment. We made plans. And what's he doing with my mother?
Yes, I know they're married, but only on paper. He swore it was all against his will.
But if that's the case, why is he in my mother's house in our living room … being seduced by the sound of it?
"Ah, ah, ah—no hands … yet anyways," Lorna purrs. "Someone's awfully eager."
“That’s not what I came here to do,” he says. “This wasn’t what we agreed to, Lorna.”