Page 31

My mouth drops open and I splutter, “Does this brand of crap actually work to get you laid?”

He selects an array of finger foods and places them on a plate. “You assume I’ve ever had to work this hard.”

There’s a compliment in there somewhere, but I can’t see it for the red haze of anger clouding my brain and my judgment. “For someone who’s obviously skilled enough to be the man you are today, you have a shockingly dense outlook on what makes a woman happy.”

He continues to inspect the food on the dishes. “You’re under the misapprehension that I’m in this to make you happy. I’m not. I want to fuck you and keep fucking you until I’m satisfied. Then I have every intention of letting you go.”

I look around, seeking some sort of divine revelation as to why I’m still sitting here listening to this arrogant bastard. “Are you for real?”

“I am. I promise. Eat.” He holds the plate out in front of me. I look from the offering in his hand and back to his face.

Everything about this is wrong. So wrong. And yet my heart hasn’t stopped racing since I entered the room. And each time he mentions fucking me, my body goes crazy hot and my insides churn with blinding excitement.

He moves closer when I don’t take the plate. Long, elegant fingers pluck a sesame seed-covered morsel that he dips into a dark condiment before he holds it to my lips. “Try this. You’ll enjoy it.”

“Because you’re an expert on the things I enjoy?” I snap.

He says nothing, just continues to hold the food a whisper away from my lips until they part of their own accord. My tongue slides out to help the morsel in, and his gaze drops to my mouth. He watches me as I chew, and I try not to moan at the sharp and spicy explosion of flavors on my tongue from the Thai food. I glance down at the dishes on the table and realize each one is comprised of delicacies from my favorite food regions—Asia and Europe.

Surprise widens my eyes, and I glance back to him to see something shift in his eyes, a hunger so wild it’s almost inhuman. He feeds me another mouthful, and his fingers brush lightly and deliberately over my lips before he withdraws.

My breath catches, and his mouth twitches in a ghost of a smile. He tosses two morsels into his mouth and chews with the ruthless efficiency of a predator. My loins catch fire watching him chew and I try to tear my gaze away, but I can’t look away from him.

“Drink?” he rasps.

The hostess suddenly appears beside me with a tray holding a cocktail I immediately recognize—a Studded Reverse Cowboy—my favorite cocktail. Aside from that seriously stalkerish vibe, which slams into me again, I’m also thrown by the fact that the hostess has been present the whole time. Has she overheard the exchange between Mason and me?

I look up to read her expression and find her attention once more riveted to Mason’s face.

Irritation churns in my belly. I pluck the glass from the tray with a curt thanks and down half its contents. I tell myself I don’t care that she’s eye-fucking Mason. The admission echoes hollowly inside me.

Truth is, I care a little too fucking much.

I shake my head when he leans forward to offer me another mouthful. “I’ve had enough, thanks.”

I mean it not just with regard to the food. Whatever this is, it’s got me so unbalanced I fear if I don’t claw back some control, he’ll steamroller me with the sheer force of his personality.

His eyes narrow at my tone, and he watches me set down the glass.

“Was this your idea of bringing me round to your way of thinking? A few mouthfuls of my favorite food and a drink or two before I decide to happily spread my legs for you?”

His face hardens. “Isn’t it what you said you wanted? Some non-sexual attention before you’re comfortable with this?”

“If I want that, I’ll happily pay for a gigolo, or one of those escort services you use.”

He looks genuinely puzzled. “Explain.”

“You’re right. I’m attracted to you.” His frown smooths out and his eyes gleam, but I shake my head. “Before you crow about it, let me finish. I’m not just attracted to you physically. I’m attracted to your brain. If I’m to entertain the idea of dropping my panties for you, I want to be stimulatedmentally, not just physically.”

He regards me for endless seconds before he sneers. “You mean you want somethingmeaningfulto slot under the banner ofrelationship? Sorry, princess, that’s not going to work for me.”

He dismisses me with a look and drops the half-finished plate on the table. He picks up the pristine napkin and proceeds to wipe his fingers with a bored look on his face.

Anger and some unknown charge of emotion send me to my feet.

“You know what? Fuck you, Mason. I don’t know why the hell I’m so drawn to you, but fuck if I’m going to keep letting you talk to me as if I’m some piece of meat you can take or leave. I don’t care if we have to work together for the next two weeks, or that you’re a friend of Zach’s. Come near me again, and I’ll rip your fucking?—”

The expletive barely leaves my lips before he grabs me. My gasp strangles in my lungs as I’m pulled forward and flung across his knees. I throw my hands out and barely catch myself from tipping forward onto my face. I try to twist away from him, but his hand wedges in the small of my back, pinning me down.