Page 72 of House of Payne

What the hell is he doing?

And why am I letting him do it?

When I don’t protest, Mason rubs himself against my center, and a moan escapes my lips.

I squeeze my eyes shut and press my lips together.

He releases my hands, and my eyes fly open, watching as he creates space between us. “Stop testing my patience. You’re going to come to mewillingly, and you are going to enjoy every goddamn minute of it.”

With that, he spins on his heel and exits the room, each step filled with confidence and ease. I wait a while longer before I sink against the couch and bury my face in my hands. Miss Deveroux finds me a while later, hands me a bottle of water, and offers me a pat on the back. Then, she ushers me outside and hands me the cleaning supplies.

I spend the rest of the day buried in work and ignoring the ache between my legs.

There has to be a way for me to steer clear of Mason for the remainder of my sentence.

Mason fucking Payne is going to be the death of me.

Chapter Seventeen

London

I haven’t been avoiding you, and I’m not mad. I’m just busy.

When I hear the familiar whoosh signaling that my text message has gone through, I shove the phone back into my pocket.

My phone pings and I ignore it, a headache already forming in the back of my head at the thought of another exchange with Noah. I feel guilty knowing that I’m ignoring him when he’s doing everything he can to make the distance between us easier.

I know I shouldn’t be filled with anxiety with every text, and that I should make more of an effort when he calls, but knowing I’ve built a tangled web between us is harder to ignore than I thought. I have no one to blame but myself.

Noah is starting to sense that something is off between us.

What did you think was going to happen, huh? That you’d just waltz off to the club, and Noah would wait by the phone for you? Come on, London. You know it’s only a matter of time before you snap.

I’m terrified of what’ll happen to Noah when I do, and of how uncertain our future seems.

Only a couple of months ago, the world was ours for the taking, and although I hadn’t been able to take the next step, I still imagined it.

I’d seen myself baking cupcakes on weekends while children played atmy feet and Noah worked in the backyard.

I’d even envisioned buying a big enough place to give my father his own space.

A whole floor to himself.

Each day I spent at the House of Payne made the dream feel further and further away. Now, whenever I focus, I can’t see a little boy with Noah’s eyes and my hair, and the little girl I picture Noah swinging around no longer has a face.

You’ll have that dream again. You just have to make it through this. Mason has taken enough from you and everyone else. Don’t let him take anything else.

As much as I’d like to blame Mason, I know this isn’t all on him.

He didn’t force me to sign the contract, and as compelling as he is, he didn’t force me to finger myself in the library.

I did all those things, and the shame and guilt of it threatens to pull me under.

Noah and I haven’t been in sync since that night in the library when Mason pushed me to expose myself to see how far I’m willing to go.

I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending it didn’t happen.

It was easier to talk to Noah in the beginning, pretend like nothing had changed between us, and that I was in his arms where I was supposed to be.