Page 48 of House of Payne

My father crosses his arms over his chest and waits patiently.

“It is overseas, so I’ll be gone for a year. We won’t be able to see each other, but I’ll do my best to communicate with you if I can.”

“London, you can’t just leave for a year!”

“I hate to do this, but I am an adult,” I remind him. “You can’t stop me. I’m going to do this. I hope I have your support, though, because it means more to me than I can express.”

He looks at me with a lost expression. I think we’re both a bit baffled and overwhelmed.

“I love you, but I’m leaving in the morning.” I give him a quick hug. “I’ll be back home before you know it.”

With that, I go upstairs to hide the tears flowing down my cheeks.

***

Despite having to lie about everything, when I get upstairs, I do as I said I was going to do. I accept a cup of tea from Noah and then draw myself a bubble bath. As much as I’d like to spend every last moment with them, I also need time on my own to think through things and prepare myself for what’s to come.

Surprisingly enough, once I get in the bath, I can’t stop thinking about Mason. I think back to what he said about me having a boyfriend. How he doesn’t care. How other women with partners have submitted to him. And it makes me think about his notion of love.

Clearly, he doesn’t believe in it. And I wonder if I’ve reaffirmed that further by stripping for him and touching myself. I’ve proven my disloyalty. I’m just like the others, which makes me feel dirty and repulsive.

I hate Mason for what he’s already reduced me to, and for what he’s making me face about myself.

Noah deserves better, and a small part of me hopes that by the time this is over, he won’t be waiting for me.

Not when the weight of everything I’ve done, none of which can ever come to light, will be between us.

I think back to Noah and how sweet and loving he is. I can’t imagine how he’d react if he saw the video. Yet I picture the look on his face, and the hurt in his eyes.

I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I was disloyal to the man I love. The man who loves me.

No matter how much I wash myself, I can’t seem to get clean. Especially when I had an orgasm. That’s the worst part of all. I was disloyal to Noah, and I enjoyed it. There’s no coming back from that, no matter how much I wish otherwise.

Chapter Twelve

Mason

I drum my fingers against my thighs and use my other hand to cradle my drink. After I take a few sips of the amber liquid, I frown into the glass, and a vision of London’s doe-like eyes peers back at me. My frown deepens as I draw the glass closer and tighten my grip.

I’m already hard for her, and every detail about the elusive vixen makes my blood boil.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve wanted anyone this badly, much less someone like London.

I should feel guilty for dragging her into my world and for forcing that little display in the study just to show her I can, but I can’t bring myself to.

Not when I got to see firsthand how it will be between us.

Molding London will be fun, the most I’ve had in a long time, and whatever unease I feel about corrupting her won’t last.

I’ll make sure it doesn’t. When she’s mine, and the mere thought of another man disgusts her, I know it will have been worth it.

Still, I can’t deny the small knot in my stomach at the thought of London at the club, deep in the seedy underbelly where the depraved and predatory come out to play. I take another long sip and picture her in the short housekeeping uniform, her cleavage on full display as she flits from one room to the next. Growling, I imagine the bracelet around her wrist,the one with clear numbers on it.

A bracelet should be enough to keep other members away, especially when they know what it means.

London is mine, and anyone who breathes in her direction will answer to me.

The club is full of men pushing the envelope and experimenting, but none of them are stupid enough to cross me.