Page 24 of The Spare (The King Dynasty #2)

Mason's never attempted to hide how attracted he is to me, but today something is different, he looks… hungrier.

I wait until a car drives past then walk across the street, unhurried, breaking away from Stephen who turns to join Dante, Mason's security.

Mason keeps my eyes the entire time until I make it to him. I relax my arms, expecting him to pull me in for a hug; instead, he grasps my jaw and tilts my head even further up to him. My heart pounds at the simple action. Even in five inch heels I have to look up to meet his eye .

"You're late," he says, staring into my soul.

I swallow thickly. "Only by a minute or t-two.

" I blink as he tilts my head suddenly assessing my makeup.

I pout, feeling shy and really laid bare.

Even more so when his head lowers and he blatantly looks down my body to my legs again.

"Can't be in too much trouble since you're taking your time inspecting me like a prized cow. "

That draws a laugh out of him.

He leans forward, and I hold my breath as he brushes his lips ever so gently to my cheek.

Brushing the corner of my mouth. His arm snakes around my waist, and his hand presses into my lower back, forcing me to close the last two steps between us.

My arms twine around his shoulders, pressing my curves against his hardness, and he nuzzles into my neck.

God, he smells so good. His cologne is something deep and spicy, warm.

Even though it's a only a hug, it's incredibly intimate especially out here on the street with onlookers.

I pull away shyly, not able to meet his gaze, and spend a second tugging the hem of this too short dress down.

I notice the car behind his, idling with our bodyguards who thankfully makes themselves sparse when we leave campus together.

Mason clears his throat gently, guiding me to the passenger side of his car where he opens it and stands back, eyeing me tightly. I stare at the low seat for a second and then tug on my dress again.

Shit, I don't know how I'm going to sit down without flashing everyone.

I hand him my clutch, and he raises his eyebrow at me. He let's out a deep chuckle then sucks in a deep breath, clearing his throat and then stepping into me, closing the door on us and shielding me from the sidewalk.

"Just sit down, Mel. No need to be shy. "

I press my legs together tightly, grab the hem of my dress and then sit, picking up my legs and settling into the car. Even an inch higher, the lace of my thong would be showing through the sheerness of the stockings. He leans in, placing my clutch on my lap.

"Thank you," I say, my eyes going wide as his fingers trail down my leg. My eyes slide to his as he squats down, making his pants stretch deliciously across his thick thighs.

"I have a present for you. That's why I didn't want you to be late, I couldn't wait a minute longer to give it to you," he says, reaching forward to the glove compartment.

My belly tightens as his warmth leaves me; my legs shift restlessly, missing the warmth of his fingers. He opens the glove compartment and pulls out a little box.

My eyes go wide, recognizing it instantly.

"Oh my gosh!" I gasp, not able to help myself as a huge smile spreads across my face. "It's the perfume I wanted! How'd you know?"

"Isobel."

He spends a second opening the box. When he gets out the bottle, he grasps my wrist and turns it palm up and spritzes a spray on my wrists, then my neck. Just when I think he's done, he grabs my calf and raises my leg slightly, spritzing a bit on the bend of my knee.

"Why on the back of my knee? That's such a waste," I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. "No one's going to be smelling me down there, Mason."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, sweetheart," he says.

I blink, staying quiet as he replaces the bottle in the box and puts it back in the glove compartment.

"Wait, I want to put it in my clutch," I say, reaching forward to try and grab it before he closes the glove compartment, but to my surprise he snatches my wrist up rather roughly, wrapping his fingers all the way around.

"Hey!" I complain. "Mason, what are you doing?

" I turn my eyes to his, seeing he's standing up out of his hunkered position and looking down at me.

Something flashes in his eyes as they narrow slightly at me. I narrow mine back.

"It's only for you to wear when you're with me," he says.

It's a completely jealous, if not possessive, move that burns me up from the inside out.

My thighs clench even harder as the flesh between my legs becomes heavy and hot with need. His eyes burn into mine, as do his words. Mason and I have been dancing this rather precarious, dangerous tango that only he and I seem to know the steps to.

Well, he only knows the steps. I have to follow his lead. Problem is, I'm tired of waiting. He hasn't made a move yet, and I'm beginning to be frustrated beyond belief. Thinking maybe I'm only imagining he wants me, and I just spent three years pining for a man who doesn't want me back.

Feelings of inadequacy arises from deep down inside, stifling the desire I feel towards him.

Mason shuts the passenger door and then walks lazily around to the driver’s side, sliding in. I watch as he adjusts his long legs beneath the steering wheel, and as he works to make himself comfortable, his suit jacket rides up, revealing his cufflinks.

Every time I see him, he's got the same ones on.

His spicy cologne fills the air and mixes with the muted floral and orange of my new perfume, creating it's own distinct scent that is, quite simply, addicting.

It's like it was planned to be perfect together.

He stays quiet as he buckles his seatbelt and then puts on his blinker, looking in the rearview mirror to check that security is watching .

He hits the gas, making the quiet engine roar before he smoothly pulls out onto the street and guns it. My fingers twitch in my lap as I stare out the window.

Maybe I'm nothing but his plaything.

A convenient toy to amuse him while he waits for the real person he wants. Maybe I've spent three years imagining this whole scenario between us. That he's nothing more than my sister's brother-in-law, and that's all he'll ever be.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Mason asks, looking over at me while he guides us to the highway. "How's school going??"

"Great," I say lightly, "I'm apartment hunting now."

"I don't know why you're apartment hunting," he says wryly.

I turn my head sharply, raising an eyebrow. "I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Izzy and Henny-"

"Is that so?" Mason interrupts. "That's what you're going to do, huh? Treat me like Hendrix?"

"Yes."

"And what did you tell them?"

"That I want some independence."