CHAPTER FIVE - MASON

 

She slides to the edge of the van. I grab her shoulders, spin her around so she’s face down, and push down between her shoulder blades so her perfect ass is up in the air.

And then I swat her.

Hard.

She bucks her back and squeals. “You motherfucker!”

I slap her again. So hard, my hand is stinging.

“You wanna be a little wild thing?” I ask her. “I’ll show you what that gets you when I’m in charge.” I smack her one more time. And this makes her whimper. “Had enough?” I ask, breathing heavy. “Because I can go all day.”

“You’re a dick!”

One last time. I make it count.

“Ow!” she screams. “You—”

“Stop fighting, Lyssa. For once in your life, just do as you’re told. Because you can’t win. You can scream all you want, there’s nothing around here for miles. You can’t even run because you don’t have clothes.”

She starts breathing funny. Like maybe she’s crying. So I figure that last one did the trick. I grab her arm and pull her up, then spin her around.

For a second she almost tries to cover herself. But instead, she tilts up her chin, squares her shoulders, and looks me in the eyes. Daring me to find her sexy.

Which I do. There’s no way to deny that. But her attitude. Oh, fuck that. I do not put up with girls like Lyssa.

She has tears in her eyes, but she’s not crying. Those are tears of anger.

I know the difference.

“Gonna behave now?” I ask.

She tips her chin up even higher. Looking down her nose at me. She’s got that haughty princess act down, that’s for sure. No one’s gonna knock her down a peg. Especially a guy like me.

That look says I’m not worthy of her anger. I’m not even worthy of her contempt.

And honestly, I don’t really give a fuck. She’s not my problem anymore. All I gotta do is take her inside, lock her up, and wait for her stepfather to show up with some asshole he hired to give his stepdaughter the attitude adjustment she so very badly needs.

“Good,” I say, taking her silence as submission. “Come with me.”

I hold her arm tight. Probably too tight. But she did try to run. Twice. So I’m not taking any chances. It’s four in the morning, I’ve been driving for hours, and I’m not in the mood to go chasing her across that wide-open lawn in the front of the house. She probably wouldn’t make it to the woods, but you never know with this girl.

Just thinking about hunting her down in those dark woods pisses me off and it hasn’t even happened.

Not gonna, either. Because I grip her so hard, she whimpers.

“You’re going to bruise me,” she protests as I drag her up the impressive front stairs to the mansion.

“You mean like you bruised my jaw?” I ask.

“You kidnapped me! What did you expect?”

I shake her a little and say, “Just be quiet,” as I punch in the security code for the house and swing the door open wide.

She resists, but I pull her through the door, then close it, and lock it up tight. “You know this house?” I ask her.

“Yes,” she growls.

“Good. Then you know the security system it has. Every window is locked. Every door is locked. If you break a window and try to get out, this system won’t call the police, Lyssa. It calls in a whole team of guys like me who will not simply spank your ass and demand respect. They will hunt you down, shoot you with tranquilizers, and then tie you up in your bedroom. So think very carefully before you make yet another bad decision in your life. Because it will get ugly.”

I shove her. Hard. Probably harder than I need to. But I want her to understand that I’m not fucking around. I need her to behave for just a few hours so I can collect my payment and get the fuck on my way. Forget I ever met this girl or her miserable stepfather.

I flick on the light and find her standing in the middle of the opulent foyer, her back to me.

And damn, I really did spank her hard. One ass cheek has a bright red handprint on it.

She takes a deep breath.

Lets it out.

But doesn’t turn around.

I take a moment to study her backside, that urge inside from earlier resurfacing. Because she is stunningly beautiful, even from this view.

Then I picture her pussy in the van, her legs spread open wide, her bouncing breasts, and begin to get hard again.

I need to take this fucking cup off. I can’t believe I drove three hours wearing that stupid thing.

But good thing you had it, Mason. Otherwise this night might’ve gone a little different. You might not be here right now. And as much as I hate to admit it, I took this job for a reason. A very urgent reason and I need that payment from her stepfather. I have big plans, all of which depend on seeing this through.

She looks over her shoulder at me. Frowning. Almost pouting.

“Not gonna work,” I say, shaking my head. “You can pout those plump lips all you want. Not gonna work on me.”

She huffs and turns to face me. Unashamed of her naked body. Maybe even quite proud of it. “I’m not pouting at you. In case you didn’t notice, I’m having a personal crisis right now. This isn’t about you.”

I toss the keys to the van on a nearby table. She can’t get out of the house, so there’s no reason to worry about the keys. “In case you didn’t already figure it out,” I say, “everything I do is about me, Lyssa. So I won’t be joining your pity party.”

She shrugs one shoulder. “Good. You weren’t invited.”

“Go put some clothes on.”

“I don’t live here,” she snaps. “This might be my house, but I have no intention of ever living here. So there are no clothes. I guess you should have thought of that before you ripped my dress right off my body.”

I laugh. “You always go out clubbing wearing no panties and no bra, Lyssa? Is that the image you like to project?”

“That’s none of your business,” she says.

“You wanted to fuck me in the alley,” I say.

“No,” she says. “You wanted to fuck me.”

“Sweetheart,” I say, laughing a little. “I can fuck anyone I want. And believe me, you’re just another little girl pretending to be a woman. I wouldn’t waste my time with you. So you can stand there naked all you want, it’s not gonna help your situation. So go. Find. Some clothes.”

“I just told you—”

“They’re in the goddamned bedroom,” I say. “Your stepfather put them there.”

She licks her lips and smiles. “Well, maybe you can point me to said bedroom? Because as I’ve already explained, I don’t live here.”

Well. She’s got game. I’ll give her that. Trying to get me up in her bedroom.

“No,” she says, even though I didn’t say anything. “I’m not trying to get you up in my bedroom. I just really have no idea where it might be.”

I look up at the second floor. There are actually two staircases in the foyer. Both of them snake down from either side of the large, wide space.

Wings, I decide. This place has wings. Pretentious much?

But what did I expect? Her stepfather has the kind of money most people can’t even comprehend. He owns half of the office buildings in downtown, more properties in the upper north side than I can count and some government official even let this asshole put his name on a park.

“Up there,” I say, nodding to the second floor.

She tosses her head, making her wildly disheveled hair cover half of her face. “Do you have any idea how many bedrooms this house has?”

I don’t even try to guess. A house this size makes no sense to me.

“Twenty-one,” she says, answering her own question.

I laugh out loud. “Why the fuck do you need twenty-one bedrooms? You running an orphanage or something?”

She makes a face. “I didn’t buy this house, Mason.” She crosses her arms, maybe starting to become aware of her nakedness. Or maybe she’s just cold. “My stepfather thought he could use it to bribe me to marry his business partner’s son. And when it didn’t work, he hired you to bring me here and force me to marry him.”

“Poor you,” I say, thinking she’s probably cold. Because I can still see one nipple and it’s bunched up and hard.

“Yeah,” she says, sadness in her voice. “Poor me.”

Then she turns, chooses the staircase on the left, and begins to walk up.

I follow her. Because even though I know the security system is top-notch, there’s no telling what she’ll do.

Besides, I want to look at that handprint on her ass a little more.

It’s pretty fucking nice. And if I thought I could get away with it, I’d snap a picture and jerk off to it later. I’d make sure to snap that pic as she was lifting her leg too. Because each time she does that, I get a little rear-view glimpse of her shaved pussy.

“Nice view, isn’t it?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder.

I shrug. “Hey,” I say, refusing to be ashamed for being caught in the act. “You’re the one who wants to show it off. Don’t blame me for looking.”

The thing is… I do kinda want to fuck her. I think any man in my present situation would be thinking the same thing. Lyssa Baylor is way out of my league. Not in the one-night stand sense. I could get her to one-night-stand me for sure.

But anything more than that and yeah. She’s just one of those girls who ignores anyone who doesn’t fit neatly into her little delusional bubble.

She stops at the top and looks both ways down the hallway. “Eenie, meany, miney, moe.” Then she goes right, even though ‘moe’ landed on left.

Figures. Wild thing, right? Rebel to the end. God forbid she do anything by direction.

She saunters down the hallway, swaying her hips—probably for my benefit—then grabs the first door handle and swings it open.

“Nope,” she says. “Not that one.”

“How do you know? You didn’t even go in.”

“I know,” she says. “But feel free. Check the closet. I’ll bet you your jacket there’s no clothes in there.”

I study her for a second. Trying to decide if I should hand over my jacket or make her play the game. Clearly her nakedness is starting to have an effect. She can play tough girl all she wants but you can only be butt naked in front of a strange man for so long before it starts to bother you.

“All you had to do was ask for the jacket, Lyssa. I’d have given it to you.”

She shrugs. “This is more entertaining.”

“Well, that’s not the word I’d use. But whatever. If I was putting this whole insane plan together, I’d choose the first bedroom. So I’ve got a pretty good feeling you’ll lose the bet.”

“OK.” She smiles. It might even be a genuine smile. Kinda sweet, actually. “Then go check. I’ll wait here.”

I walk in, flip on the light. It’s a nice bedroom. What you’d typically find in a house like this. Professionally decorated in neutral colors. Large, king-sized bed. En suite bathroom.

I pull the closet doors open, find a walk-in. Empty. Then turn back to Lyssa.

She’s leaning against the open door, hand out for my jacket. “Told you.”

I take off the jacket and give it to her.

She doesn’t put it on.

I laugh. “You’re too much, you know that?”

I follow her down the hallway to the next door. She throws it open, and says, “Nope. Not this one either.”

I walk in, flip on the light. See another version of the last bedroom. Take a deep breath as I walk over to the closet and open it up.

Empty.

I turn back to her. She says, “I think I should get your shirt for this one.”

“Ha,” I say. “Good one.” Then push past her, go to the next door, throw it open, turn on the light, and wait for her decision.

“Nope.”

“How do you know that?”

She frowns. Then shrugs. Her tits bouncing a little as she does that. “I just do, that’s all.”

“So which one is yours? I’m not in the mood to open all twenty-one bedrooms. Don’t you want to put something on and just… go to sleep?”

“I sleep naked,” she says. “Always have. So it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Jesus,” I say, running my fingers through my hair. “You tire me out, you know that?”

She says nothing.

“You know which room it is, don’t you?”

“I have an idea.”

“So go there.”

She looks down the hallway. Studies it for a moment. Then looks down the other one. The only difference between these two hallways, from what I can tell, is that there’s a large double door at the end of the one we’re not standing in. And this one has no double door at the end.

If I had to guess, I’d peg that as the master.

God, she’s really distracting. Because I could’ve avoided all this bedroom hide-and-seek if I had just been more aware of my surroundings.

She heads that direction, stops in front of the double doors, and turns back to me. “It’s not what you think.”

“What?” I say, squinting at her. “What are you talking about?”

She grabs the handles of both doors, swings them open, and she’s right.

It’s not what I think. Because it’s a staircase.

“Where’s this go?” I ask.

“To the tower,” she says. “Where else does an evil stepfather keep his little corporate princess?”

“What the fuck?” I say, kinda laughing as I step through to go up and look.

But she puts a hand out and says, “I don’t think so, Mason. I’m going up alone. Thank you for the escort. I wish I could say it was a pleasure meeting you, but I’m afraid it wasn’t.” She looks over her shoulder at the staircase, Sighs. Then turns back. “But I’m sure you’ll be paid handsomely for your troubles.”

And then she throws my jacket at me and walks up the stairs to her tower.

Flashing her pussy at me with each step.