Chapter 7

Leah

This is karma.

While the narrators in my ear are having hot, enemies-to-lovers sex, I quickly crouch down and pluck the broken glass off the floor. Mason races into the kitchen, yelling something I can’t hear thanks to how loud the volume is on my audiobook.

Pulling out my earbuds, I look up at him. “I’m so sorry.” My voice shakes. “The vase slipped out of my hands when I moved it to wipe the counter. I’ll pay for it to be replaced.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.” I stare at the mess all over the floor. I can’t believe I did this. “I’m so sorry, Mason.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s nothing.”

Nothing? There are probably a hundred gorgeous daisies in this bouquet, with my name on them, and he says it’s nothing ?

“Please don’t touch it,” Mason kneels down and tries to grab my wrist.

“No, no, I’ve got it. Really.” Dodging his hand, I pick up more pieces. “Ouch!” A shard sticks into my palm.

“God damnit.” Mason scoops me up in his arms and carries me out of the kitchen.

It happens so fast; it takes my brain a minute to catch up. My mouth takes even longer. “Mason, it’s fine.”

“You’re bleeding. You’re definitely not fine.”

I think he’s mad at me. Great.

I planned to fuck around with him possibly being X today, and even if he wasn’t, I wanted to push his buttons just for fun by wearing this stupid jersey. I don’t even like the Yankees. I just wanted to snag his attention. I wanted him to ask me out again so I can say yes, this time.

The more I thought about it all week, the more convinced I became that Mason was X. If that’s the case, and he’s cool with dating someone like me, I want to try. Just one night won’t hurt. No feelings. No deep connection. No big plans. I just want to have fun with someone who might be into the same kinks as me.

One date. One fuck. That’s it.

But seeing my name on a tag attached to that vase of my most favorite flower in the world stunned me. I picked them up to move them to a safer space, and that’s when I saw the tag. The bouquet and vase were so heavy, it slipped out of my clammy hands and smashed on the floor.

This is definitely not nothing .

Now I’m in his bathroom and I have no clue how to get out of this situation.

Mason carefully inspects my cut. With a steady hand, he plucks the small shard out and blood wells. “I don’t think it needs stitches.” Mason pulls his phone out and starts dialing. “I want it looked at by a professional, to be sure.”

“No, it’s fine.” I’m not about to pay an astronomical medical bill just for a couple stitches. “Let me just—” I make the mistake of looking at the cut. Blood covers my palm. My legs give out and I see stars. My ears start ringing. My vision closes in.

“Oh shit,” I hear him say before it’s lights out.

···

My stomach rolls as I focus on the bright white ceiling. I’m no longer in the bathroom.

“There she is,” Mason says, sounding relieved.

My gaze drifts until it latches onto his grey eyes. “What happened?”

“You fainted.”

Mason looks like he’s going to be sick, which alarms me. “Are you okay?”

“ Me ? You’re the one who got hurt. I’m so sorry, Leah.” Mason holds my hand to keep pressure on the cut. “If I hadn’t tried to play games, this never would have happened. I should have just told you I was X.”

His admission makes me feel a lot of things at once—relief, guilt, annoyance, confusion.

Lust.

Pulling the hem of my jersey, I admit, “I wore this knowing you were a Red Sox fan. I wanted to rile you up with it.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I was going to have to find a new house cleaner if you said you were a true Yankees fan.”

His joke falls flat, and we both know it.

And though my hand stings, my pride hurts more. “How did you know I was Daisy Ren?” It’s been a while since someone recognized me.

“I heard the servers at the restaurant talk about how you looked like Daisy Ren. So, I looked you up.”

Shame digs its claws into my pride but doesn’t last. Mason might know what I do for extra cash now, but he also just outed himself as the man who got off seeing me orgasm.

He’s famous. I’m a nobody.

Which one of us would be in bigger trouble if our secret got out?

Mason rubs the back of his neck. “Did you know I was X the whole time?”

I shake my head. “I saw the framed jersey when you dropped the phone after you… came. I knew it had to be you.”

He’s as still as a statue next to me on the bed.

There’s terror in his eyes. His face drains of color. He’s probably reliving our session, remembering all the dirty things he said, how he jerked off in front of a camera, how he came so hard it splattered all over his crisp black pants and abs.

How he paid me for it.

The sex industry is a mighty large grey area. Where’s the line separating flirt and a sex worker? How does a gracious tip become an actual payment? When does fake become real?

I crossed a line with Mason that night and neither of us can go back now.

Shitty thing is, I’m more scared for him than I am for myself. He’s popular in a world I’m not part of. He’s name is everywhere.

“I won’t tell, if you won’t,” I promise. “I’ll sign an NDA if that makes you feel better.”

His jaw ticks, and I look down at my lap. The towel around my hand has a little blood on it. At least my guilt has squashed the pain I was in.

A knock at the door has Mason standing fast, like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. That hurts my feelings too. “I’ll be right back.” He marches out of the bedroom and comes back seconds later with another man. “This is my neighbor, Chase.”

“Hi, Leah. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too. I need to uhhh…” Get out of Mason’s bed . “Get back to work.”

“Stay still. Let him look at you.” Mason puts his hand on my shoulder, gently pushing me back on the bed. “He’s a surgeon.”

How convenient.

“Let’s have a look.” Chase sits beside me on the bed. “May I?” He points at my hand.

I feel cagey. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Let’s be extra sure, okay?” Chase carefully unwraps my hand. I look away because the sight of blood makes me queasy, and I don’t want to faint again. “Can you make a fist?”

No problem.

“Good. Can you feel all your fingers?”

“Yes.”

He tips my hand back and forth, examining it. “You cut it on glass, correct?”

“Mmm hmm.” My cheeks heat because I feel Mason staring at me. This is awkward.

Chase frowns. “It’s a bit deep.”

Fear spikes in my system. “Does it need stitches?”

“Mmmmm. Given the location, I think butterfly closures will work. We can also glue it.” Chase covers the gash with the washcloth. “Is this your dominant hand?”

“No.”

“Good. Okay. I’ll be right back with supplies.” Chase leaves, and Mason and I stare at each other.

I don’t feel the pain in my hand anymore. With him looking at me like this, I barely feel anything but the heat pooling between my thighs.

Without warning, Mason moves closer. “Tell me to stop.”

“S-stop what?”

“Stop thinking what I’m thinking.”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

He leans in until we’re dangerously close. “Yes, you do, Princess.”

My thighs clench. He’s right. I do. Because I’m thinking the same thing.

“He’s coming back any minute,” Mason says, half in warning, half in temptation. His hand slides up the back of my leg. It’s like being set on fire. “Does it still hurt?”

I shake my head. “I can’t feel anything when you’re this close to me.”

Did I just say that out loud? I must be in shock. It’s the only thing that explains my sudden stupidity.

“You don’t feel anything ?” Mason’s dark brow arches. “Not even this?” He leans down and kisses my inner thigh.

My stomach flutters. “N-no.”

“What about… this .” He nudges my legs open and seals his mouth over my cotton shorts, blowing hot air on my pussy.

I shake my head. My eyes dart to the door. Chase is coming back any second!

“Hmmm.” Mason slides my shorts and panties to the side and runs his finger along my exposed pussy. “What about this?”

“A little.” I shrug as if it’s not that big a deal.

But inside I’m screaming. Every touch, every breath, every miniscule move he makes on me is amplified by the fact that we could very well get caught by Chase any second. My gaze flicks to the door again, then back at Mason.

His eyes glint with humor. “How about this, Princess?” He shoves his finger inside me and hits my g-spot on the first try.

I groan and glue my eyes on him.

“My girl likes to play games, doesn’t she?” He hits the pleasure point over and over.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s play.” He pumps into me faster. “This game is called, How many times can my girl come before we get caught.”

My heels dig into the bed, and I open my legs more for him. It feels so good. So bad. So wrong. So exciting.

I don’t know if I want to get caught or not, but I want to come.

“You’re so wet, Princess. Does this excite you?”

Biting my bottom lip, I glance at the doorway and nod. Now I kind of want Chase to watch.

“Use your words.”

My eyes roll when he adds another finger. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Mr. X, Sir.” I’ll call him Daddy if he just keeps going. Holy shit, this is thrilling.

Mason fingers me faster. “He’s coming back, Leah.”

“Don’t stop.” I grab his arm. “I’m so fucking close.”

His wicked smile does me in. I hear the door shut as Chase enters the condo and my pussy clamps around Mason’s fingers as I come. My mouth drops in a silent scream.

A second before Chase enters the room, Mason pulls out and I slam my thighs shut.

“Here we go.” Chase rests a first aid kit on the mattress. “This will only take a minute.”

“Take your time, Doc.” Mason stands back to give him room and sucks his fingers into his mouth, down to the last knuckle. My cum is all over them.

I can’t stop staring at him.

“It’s already stopped bleeding, so that’s good.” Clueless about what we just did, Chase cleans the cut, and all the pain in my palm comes back three-fold.

“I don’t feel good.” My mouth fills with saliva.

“Look at me,” Mason orders. “Eyes on me, Leah.”

I’m not sure how, but the moment our gazes collide, I’m enthralled by him again. I swear I still feel his touch on me. Inside me. While Chase patches my hand, I sink into a daze while staring at Mason. He’s a stunning specimen of a man. His expression shifts from worry to hunger to amusement to lust while I ogle him. I think he likes being my focal point.

“There we go.” Chase closes his kit, and I finally blink, bringing my attention back to my hand. “Keep it clean and try to be careful you don’t hit it on anything. It could bust back open if it doesn’t have time to heal properly.”

“She’ll be careful,” Mason says.

Chase smiles at me. Can he tell I just orgasmed? Did he hear me when I came? Is he playing it cool or really that clueless? “I take it you’re a house cleaner?”

“Yeah.”

“Wear a glove to protect it, okay? Don’t let any chemicals touch it.”

“She’s not cleaning any houses while she’s injured,” Mason says, like he’s my fucking boss.

I glower at him, the enthrallment spell broken. “I still have a job to do. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak for me.”

Mason crosses his arms. “You’re hurt. You’re not working.”

“It’s all better.” I wave my bandaged hand in the air. “I don’t feel a thing.”

Chase looks from me to Mason and back to me. “Okay, then.” He gets up and clears his throat. “It was nice meeting you, Leah. Mason, any chance you can score me two tickets to the opera house this weekend? It’s my wife’s birthday.”

“Consider it done.” Mason might sound cheery, but he’s scowling at me.

“Thanks, man.”

Once Chase leaves, I climb out of bed so I can get back to work.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“To the kitchen.” I blow out an exasperated sigh. “Then the office. After that, I’ll do the two bathrooms and your bedroom.”

“You’re not cleaning my condo in your condition!”

“I’m fine!” I bark back. “And I have two more places to clean after this, so I can’t waste any more time or I’m going to be behind for the rest of the day.”

Flustered and still wet from my orgasm, I slip past Mason to head back into the kitchen.

He catches my arm and presses me against the wall in the hallway.

Mason’s eyes bore into mine, setting my skin on fire. My palm thuds around my cut because my heart’s racing so fast.

“You’re too good at this,” he growls. It doesn’t sound like a compliment.

“I haven’t even done anything.” I’m not sure what he’s talking about, but I can fake it until I figure it out.

“You’re driving me insane.”

Honestly? He’s doing the same to me and I can’t understand how.

“Good,” I shoot back, quickly gathering my sensibilities.

Mason’s eyes flash with indignation. “You didn’t tell me to stop.”

I tip my head back and smile, too horny and reckless for my own good.

“You should have told me to stop, Princess.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because now I can’t.” He crushes his mouth to mine and pins my body to the wall.