The Price of Mason (Forbidden Men 10)

I paused at her shoulder.

Compassion?

What the fuck did that mean?

Usually, women told me they wanted to be on top or liked it from behind or wanted to be spanked. Shit like that. Compassionate sex was not an answer I’d ever gotten before.

Since I hadn’t exactly been planning on being cold and callous, I pulled back to look at her, no clue how to respond.

She smiled at me like an adult amused by a child’s ignorance. Then she reached up and stroked my cheek.

“I didn’t marry my husband for love,” she explained. “I married him for the money. Unfortunately, he’s a very selfish lover who’s never once considered what I needed. So I want someone to give instead of take. I want to know what it would feel like if someone who actually loved me and cared about my pleasure were fucking me.”

O…kay.

Personally, I thought she’d have better luck going off and actually falling in love with someone to experience that from him instead of relying on me to fake it. But hey, it wasn’t my place to judge. I just had to give the lady what she asked for.

“Don’t worry,” I assured her as I leaned in to set my mouth against hers, because people in love kissed on the mouth, right? “I’ll make sure you come harder than you’ve ever come before.”

Grimacing, she pulled her face back and lifted her finger to set it against my mouth, stalling me.

“No,” she said, shaking her head and straightening again when I pulled away from her. “I don’t want you to just be nice and make sure I come. I said I wanted you to act as if you fucking love me.”

Huh?

I shook my head, clueless. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure—”

She sighed and waved her hand, shutting me up. “How about this?” After studying my face a moment, she stroked a finger down my jaw. “Is there a special lady in your life?”

Reese’s face flashed into my head before I could stop it.

Stupid brain.

She wasn’t special. I didn’t even know her. Why did I immediately think about her? Probably because she’d been the only person to actually stir something in me in quite a while. Plus I’d just seen her tonight, so she was fresh in my mind.

Yeah, that was probably it.

No other reason.

But a smile flickered across my client’s mouth as she pointed at me. “There,” she murmured. “I saw that look. There is someone. What’s her name?”

I shook my head. No way in fucking hell was I giving this woman—this friend of Patricia’s—anyone’s name. Certainly not Reese’s.

“No,” I said, laughing uneasily. “There’s not. I don’t have a girlfriend.” Did she honestly think a gigolo could maintain a relationship with anyone?

I guess maybe some guys could, I don’t know, but I wasn’t one of them.

“She doesn’t have to be a girlfriend. Maybe just someone you crave.”

I continued to shake my head in denial, but the client patted my cheek as if she already knew she was right. “Whoever’s in your mind, making you deny it so forcefull

y…use her.” Moving closer, she whispered into my ear, “And while your hands are on me, touch her.”

An unwanted ripple of desire flowed over me. My gut clenched and cock hardened. Touch Reese, an eager, greedy part of my psyche whispered.

Outwardly, though, I shook my head, resisting temptation. “But, uh…” With an uneasy smile, I furrowed my brow. “That doesn’t exactly seem fair to you.”

The woman in front of me only smiled as if she knew something I didn’t. “Trust me,” she said. “And close your eyes.”