Mason's Winter

“Don’t even try it. There are cameras right over there, watching us. I’m not losing my job because of you.” She grinds her teeth, mashing that last syllable, then points out the one camera mounted to the roof of the elevator that could see everything.

“Now, that’s a pity.” I step back and reach to press the lobby button when the doors open.

It’s Ms. Grable with her hands on her hips, and her brow cocked. “What’s going on, Winter? You’re already skating on thin ice. Come here. We need to have a talk,” she bit out, nearly dragging Winter from the elevator. I wink at Winter who scowls at me before the doors close again.

I’m going to get her alone one way or another. There’s no way she can lie about the attraction. I’m not sure why she’s fighting it, but she won’t for very much longer.

Chapter 4

Winter

Why? I can’t stop thinking about Mason Hunt. Why? I know he’s hotter than sin, but he’s taken. And why won’t he quit trying to talk to me? Better yet, stop trying to seduce me. I somehow managed to run into him at every meeting. It’s all because Carissa is a total damn airhead and forget that she’d send me on an errand. I felt like she was purposely torturing me. She knew that I was interested in him and rubbed it in my face. Damn, I couldn’t even hide it, but he belonged to her. They can’t make it public until the company’s sold, so they see each other secretly. In fact, they’re supposed to have another “business meeting” in less than an hour at a fancy restaurant while I’m driving through this winter mess, picking up her Christmas presents.

Just thinking of them together makes me nauseous. Soon I’ll be gone and never have to see them again, but until then I have to brace myself for the heartbreaking encounters. The other day in the office was the worst; it nearly broke me. They took forever to open the door. And when they finally did, he was fixing his collar while she was behind him straightening her top. Then as if to rub it in, she ran her finger around her lips to hide that they were kissing. His brow was sweaty and his cock was unmistakably hard when he ran into the elevator, pinning me to the wall and acting like he wasn’t in the middle of trying to get busy with Carissa when I interrupted. That fucking disgusted me, but my body refused to agree. My pussy practically screamed “take me” when he kissed my neck.

And despite the fact that he’s taken and a player, I let him see how attracted I was to him. Damn, I hate the way it makes me feel. He’s gorgeous, but a total dick. He’s engaged to my step-sister and looking at me as if he can see through my clothes. Every day, I go to bed and hope that this feeling for him will go away, but any time I think of him it gets worse. I’m a wretched person for wanting him and yet I can’t avoid him—even in my dreams.

I still remember the first encounter two weeks ago that started it all. Has it only been two weeks since he barreled into me? I can still feel his hands wrapped around my waist as he stopped me from hitting the ground. Our eyes connected, and my heart raced out of control. I thought I was going to faint away.

But then I remember what happened right afterward.

“Winter, if you want to live in this house, you’ll stay away from Mason. He’s mine,” she snarls, poking me in the chest. “Do you hear me?” she screamed. It was so loud that I thought he could hear her in his car.

I nod. “Answer me,” she bites out.

“Yes, I hear you. I didn’t even speak to him,” I remind her crazy ass.

“Good. You’re your mother’s daughter, so keep your slutty paws off my man. And just so you know our engagement is a secret. If you say anything you’ll be out on your ass, and the best job you’ll get is at a fast food restaurant.”

I close my eyes and shake away that conversation. I want to tell her to go fuck herself, but I can’t. Even when I want to quit so bad, especially right now. I’m circling the block in my car that technically belongs to Mr. Grable. It’s been snowing for hours; it finally stopped around four in the afternoon, but now rush hour has begun. Cars hit the road all over downtown Chicago, making it hard for me to find a parking spot and the plows to clear the streets. The nearest garage is a block away, and I’m not interested in paying twelve bucks to park there to pick up something. Carissa already told me that she wouldn’t reimburse me for it, so I’m not paying more than a few bucks to run her errands.