His Pawn (The Manhattan Tales Book 1) (6 page)

I sighed softly.  “Yes, of course I’ll sign it.  I had to sign one for the Sloanes when I was hired to be a nanny.  Can I get a pen?”

“You’ll not read it first?”  His jaw clenched slightly.

“No, Mason.  I don’t need to read it.  Do you recall how many years I could have talked about you, and everything I knew about you, even then?  Not to mention the last three days…”   

He didn’t argue me as he handed me the pen and I scribbled my signature and the date.  Yes, I was annoyed.  This was ridiculous.  He was studying my exasperated demeanor, of course.

“Again, I’ll remind you to watch that tone with me, Ms. Pryor.” He now seemed agitated.

I simply looked at him, blinking a few times.
What the hell was this? Was I some errant employee?
He continued speaking, ignoring my expression, while he still clutched the leather folder and replaced the agreement within the folder.  He was now perched on the edge of the desk again, facing me directly.

  “I propose that you finish your degree, complete whatever internships are still required by the state of New York, and work towards raising that grade point average.  I am certain you aspire to continue on with graduate school?”

My dark eyes obviously flared as I looked up at him.  “Yes, Mason, of course I want to go on to graduate school.  I applied for scholarships and jobs but I’m probably going to have to take a break from school to save money-”

“Out of the question,” he cut me off shortly. 

I sighed. 
Things must seem so easy when you have all the money in the world to just throw around.  I would bet my life on the assumption that he’s never had to take out a college loan in his life.

  “I’ll provide for your needs and lodging.  You’ll not work, with the exception of required internships, and attend classes full-time to build up your grades.  I’ll pay off your student debt and the upcoming costs of tuition.”

He said this coolly as he leaned back ever so slightly and assessed my reaction.

My mouth must have hit the floor because he grinned and lifted his forefinger to my chin, gently forcing my mouth closed. 

“Mason-”

“I’d appreciate if you refer to me as Mr. Woodward while you’re on company grounds,” he interrupted me sharply. 

I’ve never had to call him by that title.   He’s always been Mason. 
This really caught me by surprise.

“Right. 
Mr. Woodward
, this is
very, very
kind and generous of you… but you’ve already done so much for me.  I can’t leech off your generosity like this, freely taking from you just because you’re very…”  I looked around at my surroundings.  “Very successful.”

Mason’s success was the least of it.  He came from very old English money, something he never cared to talk about with most people.

Mason, er, Mr. Woodward simply chuckled, and I didn’t like the sound of it. 

“Ms. Pryor, I do
nothing
for free.”  He stared down at me with a slight grin as he allowed that to sink in.  Again, he looked at me like I was the cornered mouse.

  “What about the charities and nonprofit organizations you sponsor?”  I challenged, although my voice wavered somewhat.

“It’s all PR, Ms. Pryor.  Public relations are extremely important when establishing your name in the business world.  First impressions and reputation are of utmost importance.  Surely I do not have to give you a college lecture.  You’ve taken
Society and Economic Change
, I assume?”  
Yes, but I assume you’ve never taken Poverty and Inequality.

I stared up at him, my frustration piquing ten-fold.
Right, Mr. Moneybags Mason,
I thought to myself. 
What about the times you helped my family, thinking nobody knew about it?  What about those times you rescued me?  That was not PR, because nobody else knew about it.  What the hell happened to you?

I wanted to ask him this, and shake him, but I was also seriously considering his proposal.  I was very concerned what the stakes entailed, though.  I was about to ask him about this, but his personal cell rang.  He grabbed it from the inside pocket of his black suit jacket, looked at the screen and gave a disgruntled sigh.

“Give me a moment,” he said to me sharply before pressing the answer button.  “You know I’m working.” he said into the phone.

I could hear the muffled response of a female on the other end.

“Piper, why not send me an email outlining why you disagree with my plans?”  He held a tone of sarcasm in his voice, which indicated that this was not a business call. 

I could hear her snippy, yet muffled answer on the other end of the phone.

  “Suit yourself.  I’m going through with this,  I’ll call you later.”   He ended the call, returned the cell phone to the inside jacket of his suit, and looked at me with glittering eyes.

“My apologies.  That was my cousin.  She’s at times very much like a nagging little sister.” 

The terse tone in his voice was long gone. 

“Now, where were we?  Ah yes, I do nothing for
free
.”

“Right.  You said that already, along with a brief explanation as to how you’re secretly an ass who presents himself as a societal philanthropist.”  I gave him a deadpan stare. 

I was trying to mask my own nerves.  After a few moments of silence, I had to ask, because he seemed to be waiting for the question.

“What do you want from me in return?” My nerves showed in my voice.  It was slightly shaky. 

I could help him full-time in the office, or clean hotels for free.  I could run his errands or help Mrs. O’Malley with her duties around the house.
  I thought about all my options, all but the one that I pushed deep down into the depths of my mind.  I
denied
that possibility… 

“I want my sexual needs satisfied, Ms. Pryor.  I’m a very difficult man to please.”  He said bluntly.

Those words sucked the air from my lungs.  I looked up at him with eyes wide and round.

“Me?”  I asked in disbelief, although I think my voice sounded more like a squeak.  “Why me?”

“Because you’re beautiful, and I want to fuck that little body of yours and feel how I can make it writhe with pleasure.”

His words were  smooth, and as though he could feel my heart rate quicken, he leaned forward. The heat from his tall, muscular frame overwhelmed me. I could smell his signature cologne scent. Hot waves of need washed over me again, especially after hearing the filthy words that came out of his  mouth.  I had no idea that I would be so aroused by such dirty talk.  I also felt embarrassed by how bright pink I knew I’d become.

I opened my mouth to speak, but words would not come out.  So many thoughts whirled around in my mind.  I wanted him to take me, but I was also afraid.  My high school crush on him escalated into pure lust.  Well, it wasn’t pure lust.  I wanted more time with him.  I missed how he was back in the good old days.  But this proposal...  this caught me by complete shock.

“You’ll take the spare room in my penthouse and be at my beck and call, as it pleases me, for three months.  I’ll pay the entirety of your accrued costs at NYU.  It will be in the contract.”

“Contract?”  I blurted, blinking. 
This can’t be real.

“I don’t do anything without written documentation, Ms. Pryor.  I will pay all the necessary fees, past and future, incurred by your attendance at NYU.  In return you give yourself to me for three months.  If, for any reason, you decide to deny me your body before the three months are up, you will owe me the entire amount of your college education, in full, immediately.”

He was actually serious.  This was all too much.  I looked away from him as I continued to process everything he’d just thrown at me.  My heart bounced around within my rib cage as though I’d just run a ten mile marathon.

I sat in that chair, staring at him.  Then I began pinching my arm.  Mason’s face contorted as he watched me for a moment.

“What the hell are you doing?”  He asked.

“I’m pinching myself.”

  “I see that.  Why?”  He was annoyed, and perplexed.

  “I was just wondering for a moment if this was a dream.  I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that you’d want me in that way.”  I stopped pinching my arm and rested my hands in my lap.

  “Oh, indeed I do, Ms. Pryor.  You have no idea.  I can see by your flushed face and clenched thighs that you desire me all the same.  You want to know what it will be like to have me on you, holding you down, deep inside you.”  He smirked as though he could sense the liquid heat pooling between my thighs.

“What do you say to this arrangement?”

 

 
My breath caught, thinking about all those words to me. He was so crude, but it sent a flood of sensual, pleasuring tingles through my body.  It felt good…

I want my sexual needs satisfied, Ms. Pryor.  I’m a very difficult man to please.
 

His words also haunted my mind as I tried to piece together what I was going to say to him, and how to react to all of this. 
I could never please a man like him.  What happened to him?  He is so hardened, and so cold…
I squeezed my eyes shut as I tried to block everything out and focus on what I should say. 

“A verbal response would be appreciated, Ms. Pryor,” Mason prompted.

  “It’s Jill,” I finally snapped as I opened my eyes.  I locked my gaze with his.  “And the answer is NO.”

His eyes flared.  They burned through me.  

“No?” He asked incredulously. 

I may have been the first person to ever say no to him.  He was clearly not accustomed to this, and it showed in his blazing gaze and agitated tone.

“If you want to be with me, then be with me, but I will not have sex with you for your money, or the nice clothes, your company or your properties.  I’ll pay you back every penny for the clothes and the fees you pay NYU, after I graduate college.  I’ll sign a contract with a payment plan for
that
.  I’d be like a prostitute otherwise.”

  The knot had returned to his jaw, and his fingers gripped the edge of the desk as though he was struggling to maintain his  own self-control.

  “Do you wish to refer to yourself as a prostitute?”

“No.” My response was passionate.

“Then don’t.” He answered smoothly, slightly terse.  “The contract still stands.  I pay the fees. You give your body to me, and only me, for three months.” 

I had so many questions, so many thoughts and emotions jumbled into one big mess within my head. 

At that moment, my phone rang, and I was desperate for something else to focus on, something to distract myself from the the intense aura surrounding him.  I pulled my phone from my purse, thinking it might be Elyse calling me from Florida.  Instead, I saw that my brother was calling me. 

I clutched my phone in both hands as the call went to voice mail.  I couldn’t speak to Travis at a time like this, not in front of Mason.  A moment later, my phone chimed with an incoming text message.  I looked at my phone, still feeling Mason’s intense gaze boring down on me.  I felt both aroused and intimidated. 

 

Travis:  San Fran was great.  We made the deal.  I’ll be in NY for 2 days in March .
  

I read the text message and bit my lower lip as I keyed an answer back:

Yeah!  Sorry I’m in a meeting but can’t wait to see you! :)
 

  My phone instantly chimed again with another message from Travis.

“Who the hell are you talking to?”  Mason finally asked.

“It’s not important.” I answered. He arched an eyebrow at me and I sighed.  “It’s Travis.”

  Mason’s nostrils actually flared and an unreadable mask spread over his face.  I felt overwhelmed… I needed to get away from Mason to just think.

“I need
to use the bathroom,” I said softly.  Without a word, he pointed toward a closed door in the far corner of the office, toward his private bathroom.  As I gathered my bag, I could sense him round his desk and turn his back to me as he stared through the glass at the expansive view of Manhattan.   

Quickly, I walked across the marbled floor toward the bathroom.  There, I locked the door and let out a deep breath.  I realized then that I was barely breathing until that moment.  I leaned against the door and closed my eyes, feeling somewhat comforted by the enclosed, private space with a locked door.

I thought about his proposal and the conditions that applied to it. 
Could I really do this?  It’s only three months… and then you’ll have zero student debt.  You’ll be able to graduate on time and get the job you want.  Maybe even go to graduate school sooner rather than later. 

Then my mind drifted toward darker fantasies- fantasies I had ignored since I was eighteen or nineteen years old.  Back then, my adoration for Mason had turned into a full-fledged crush on him.  The crush was always one sided.  Mason is ten years older than me and I was just a kid to him. 

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