Page 23 of House of Payne

Usually, I like the silence, but with her, it’s too loud.“You’re afraid of me?” I notice how she’s watched me nervously this entire time.

“Why would you think that?” She’s putting on a brave face.

“I’m good at reading people.”

She doesn’t answer for a few moments. “You’re a bit intimidating. I half expect you to…”

“Kill you?”

She snorts as if that’s preposterous. If only she knew the blood on my hands. “Hurt me,” she corrects. “Stop interrupting me.”

I ignore her smart-ass comment. “Have I hurt you, yet?”

“Do you want to?”

I smile. There are a lot of things I want to do to her.

I say nothing, though.

“Doesn’t mean you won’t,” she says. “It’s in every man’s nature.”

I finish pulling the glass out and notice the relief written on her features. “So, let me guess, you’re a lesbian?”

What a shame.

“Not at all,” she laughs. “I experimented a bit a long time ago, but I like…” She trails off, her face turning pink as if she’s said too much.

“Dick?” I finish.

She’s a bit of a mystery to me, one I’m dying to unravel.And fuck.

“You’re vulgar.” She hisses as I put alcohol on the cut, followed by a band-aid.

“And you’re done.”

She nods and hops off the table. “I’m London.” She holds her hand out to me to shake but one raise of my eyebrow has her retracting it. “And you are…”

“Mason.”

“Like the jar.” She laughs, and I stare at her. I don’t find it funny, but something about the way she laughs intrigues me and makes me want to hear more of it.

She must feel awkward because she lets out a nervous cough. “Well, thank you for helping me.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I remind myself that I’m here for business and not pleasure. If I were here for the latter, I’d have her backed against one of these tables and my dick so deep inside of her, she’d be able to feel me for days.

As it is, I have to resist the urge to pull her to me.

Not yet. Business first, then you can work on the blonde.

“What were you doing lifting those containers anyway?” I ask. “No men work here?” It’s my way of seeing where the owner is without asking outright.

“Not exactly,” she admits. “I’m the only one here right now.”

That surprises me, but this woman seems like she is full of surprises. I wouldn’t expect anyone to be alone in a diner this size despite the lack of customers. It’s not safe. Or maybe that’s just me.

“Are you often left here alone?”