What I realize I don’t have? My underwear. Well, I really wasn’t wearing a bra, but now my panties are missing, too. Thank goodness I remember why.
Mason and I had sex.
I pull the blanket up to my chin and let out a deep breath as I stare at the ceiling. I can’t believe we did that, that I allowed it, but I have no regrets. Last night was amazing, perfect. I was nervous going to the gala, yes. I thought of turning back a few times. But after I met Desiree and spoke with her, my anxiety began to fade. Then I met other people, famous people, rich people, powerful people. I realized just how big Mason is and consequently, how much influence I now have. Those famous, rich, powerful people were not looking down on me. I was standing on an equal footing with them, laughing with them, talking with them. They listened to me. They saw me. And so did everyone else. Everyone was looking at me.
I’ve never been in such a position before.
So this is how Leander used to feel, huh? This is what Mason feels. Seen. Appreciated. Wanted.
I’ve never been a people pleaser. My dad was the only one I ever wanted to make happy. And I know it isn’t good to keep trying to please others. But it sure feels good when you please people without really trying.
I felt good. It was… a high for me. And I was still high when we got home. I was a ball on a roll and I didn’t want to stop. I couldn’t, which was why I allowed Mason to keep going. I pulled him along with the current and then we swept each other away.
And it was good. Sex with Mason was more incredible than I ever imagined. He was gentle but also rough. His tongue was magical. His fingers talented. And his cock? I didn’t really see it, but I touched it once and it was… huge. And it felt out of this world.
My cheeks burn at the memory and I pull the blanket over my face. I purse my lips as I hold back a sheepish grin.
Naughty Aster. But damn, that sex was good.
I pop out of the blanket.
So yeah, I have no regrets. I know I was the one who made up the no-sex rule, but back then, I had a lot of reasons, excuses not to have sex. Last night, I suddenly couldn’t come up with any. Yes, I know this marriage isn’t real, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get something out of it. Yes, Mason and I don’t love each other – though I’m starting to wonder if maybe Mason really does care about me – but we’re not strangers. Not anymore. And we’re adults. And we’re married.
So why should I wish I didn’t have the sex?
If there’s something I should wish for right now, it’s that there wasn’t anything sticky on my thigh. Thankfully, though, that’s a thing that I can do something about.
I toss the blanket off and get out of Mason’s bed. I’m guessing he must be at work already since I can see a pool of bright sunlight beneath those blue curtains. I hold the top of my gown up as I go to the bathroom. There, I discard it and clean myself up, then put on Mason’s black robe. It smells manly, just like him.
Too manly. And too Mason. I can’t wear this. It’s making me… want him.
I take it off and put it back on the peg. I consider wrapping a towel around my waist but then decide I’ll just go to his closet to find something else to wear that won’t fall off so easily. Maybe a freshly washed shirt that doesn’t smell like him? Or a coat?
When I get there, though, I find a woman going through his drawers. I immediately stop in my tracks and cover myself with the green gown in my hands. The woman, who I think must be a maid, doesn’t seem to notice my presence, though.
I clear my throat. She gets up and turns. My jaw drops as I realize she’s not a maid. She’s wearing a white blouse and skinny dark jeans instead of the blue and white maid’s uniform. Also, I don’t think I’ve seen her before.
“Sorry,” I tell her as I clasp the gown tighter to my body. “I thought you were a maid.”
But if she’s not, who is she? She’s not a thief, is she? I mean, this apartment is about as secure as the White House.
“Oh, it’s fine,” she says with a smile. “You must be Mason’s wife.”
Mason? She’s calling him by his first name?
“I’m Renee.” She offers me her hand.
I look at it. Renee? I’ve never heard the name before.
“Oh.” She pulls her hand away. “Mason hasn’t mentioned me, has he?”