The Lesson (5 page)

You’ll see,
the voice trailed off and fell silent.

“Look,” Bianca said in a shaky voice. She
could feel tears forming in her eyes “Maybe it was a mistake to
come here. Maybe I should go.” She glanced around the room until
she found a clock. Ten-thirty! She told Nonno she would call him at
nine!

“Dammit,” she cried. “I have to get home.
I’m sure Nonno is worried sick. I didn’t call him when I said I
would.” She hurried toward the bedroom.

“Wait!” Mason called out, rushing after
her.

“No,” she waved him off, trying to get to
the bedroom before he saw how upset she was. “I get it. You don’t
want me to think this is going to be something. I’m sure you see a
different girl every night and you’re afraid I’ll be clingy and
demanding.”

God dammit, Bianca, stop!” he barked, and
she froze. “Turn around and look at me.”

Bianca turned, struggling to control her
emotions.

Mason stared down at her, and when he saw
her eyes shining with unshed tears, he swore again, pulling her
into his arms. “Everything you just said is true,” he told her.

“I knew it,” she whimpered and tried to pull
away, but he wouldn’t let her. He captured her chin in his hand and
forced her to look at him.

“Was
true,”
he told her, his eyes beseeching. “I’ve spent years trying to fuck
anything with two legs and move on to the next as quickly as
possible, but you’ve changed all that. When you gave yourself to
me, so freely, so trusting … you changed something inside
me
tonight.”

“How can I believe you?” Bianca asked, her
voice a near sob.

“Give me the chance to prove it to you,” he
begged. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to be worthy of
you.”

Bianca stared up at him.

He’s going to hurt
you,
the voice told her.

No he won’t,
she replied.
He really means
it.

He might mean it, but that doesn’t mean he
won’t end up hurting you. There’s no place for you in his world, or
for him in yours.

We can make it work.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

CHAPTER SIX

Mason took a step back, his hand grasping
hers. “I’ll take you home,” he told her. “But only because I don’t
want your grandfather to worry. I want him to trust me and like me,
despite the fact that I’ve already taken advantage of you.”

Bianca sighed. “You didn’t take advantage of
me,” she argued. “I wanted you as much as you wanted me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Honey, that’s not even
possible, but I’m not going to argue about it right now. Get
dressed so I can take you home.”

Bianca glanced around the room and then
realized most of her clothes were in the living room. She found her
torn panties on the floor and she smiled as she picked them up. She
dangled them on one finger and grinned at Mason. “No matter what
happens, I think you owe me a new pair of underwear.”

His mouth curved slightly and Bianca flicked
the panties at him, hitting him in the face.

Mason growled and dove for her, tearing the
sheet away from her body. “Tease!”

Bianca laughed as she raced for the living
room. “You said you were going to take me home,” she called over
her shoulder. “Nonno will be worried.”

“Get dressed!” he bellowed from the bedroom.
“Before I keep you here all night.”

Bianca placed a hand over her mouth to
suppress a giggle. Maybe things would be alright after all. He
seemed sincere.

After they were both dressed and Bianca had
checked her hair and makeup, they made their way back down to the
parking garage. Minutes later they were heading back toward
Bianca’s neighborhood in northwest Portland.

Mason gripped her hand tightly in his the
entire time as he zipped down the freeway and streets of Portland,
releasing her only when he had to change gears.

Conversation flowed between them as if
they’d known each other for years.

“What time is your first class tomorrow?” he
asked.

“Nine o’clock,” she told him.

His face brightened. “I have a ten o’clock
class, but I don’t mind being there a little early. I can … study,
or something. Would you like me to pick you up?”

“Um, I suppose that would be okay,” she
answered, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her sweater. “I have to
work in the afternoon.”

“You have a job?” he queried with a side
glance. “Where at?”

She shrugged. “Just a little hole in the
wall Italian place called Roma’s. It’s not too far from campus.
Nonno’s best friend Alfie owns it. I wait tables a few days a
week.”

“What time do you get off?” he asked. “Would
you like to go out afterward? I can pick you up. I know a great
club if you like to dance. Or dinner maybe? Do you eat at work or
wait until you go home? What about your grandfather? Should we ask
him to join us for dinner?”

Bianca laughed and held up a hand to stop
the barrage of questions. “Mason! Let’s just get through tonight
and tomorrow morning.”

His brow furrowed and he bit down on his
luscious bottom lip.

That’s my job,
Bianca thought, and was shocked but the surge of carnal
desire that jolted through her system.

“Hey,” she said, lifting his hand to kiss
each fingertip. “Don’t look so worried.”

“Don’t you want to see me again?” he asked,
his mouth quirking in a sexy pout.

“Of course I do,” she answered. “We have to
stop second guessing each other. Sheesh … so much insecurity
between the two of us.” She continued to kiss his fingertips,
gently biting each one as she went.

He pulled up to a red light and turned to
watch her, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. “Such a
tease,” he whispered. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me
right now?”

“Hmm?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Me?” Something in his gaze reminded her of earlier when he spoke
of her open mouth. What had he said? That’s right, he pictured her
sweet lips wrapped around his cock. He had shocked her with his
words, maybe now she could be the one to shock him. She gave him a
hooded glance just before she slipped his forefinger into her mouth
and sucked gently.

He gasped. “Bianca,” he moaned, and his head
fell back against his head rest. His obvious pleasure spurred her,
and she experimented further, running her tongue up and down the
length of his finger. “Jesus,” he panted. “You’re killing me.”

A car behind them honked and Mason jolted up
in his seat. “Shit!” he swore and tore his hand away, stepping on
the gas and moving through the intersection. “I wonder how long
that light was green.”

Bianca smiled and sat back, humming a
little.
At least I know I drive him to
distraction as much as he does me.

“You’re a witch,” Mason muttered as he
turned a corner and pulled up to the curb in front of her
house.

Most of the house was dark with the
exception of one light in the living room, which Bianca knew Nonno
Joe had left on for her.

He’s probably
asleep,
she thought, and glanced at Mason. He watched
her, his eyes sweeping over her frame as if he were studying every
inch of her.

“What do you see when you look at me?” she
asked softly.

“An angel,” he answered, his expression one
of deadly earnest.

She shook her head. “I’m far from an
angel.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, his hand reaching
across the space between them to cup her cheek, his thumb caressing
her jaw, giving her shivers. “Or maybe you’re my own personal angel
sent here to save me from myself.”

Oh, how the mighty
fall,
the little voice inside her mocked.
He’s putting you on a pedestal and you’ll never
be able to live up to the image he has of you. It’ll hurt more than
anything when you come crashing down. It’ll hurt both of
you.

Shut up!

“Mason,” she started, but he cut her off
before she could finish.

“Can you imagine what it was like for
me?” His eyes beseeched her. “To have a woman like you give of
yourself, so willingly, so freely?” His eyes squeezed shut and he
shook his head. When he looked at her again, his expression was
bleak. “Every woman I’ve ever met has seen me as a meal ticket.
I’ve always been
Mason Freeman the
Second
, prodigal son of Mason Freeman the First.” The
words dripped with disdain.

“Do you know that nothing I’ve ever done was
good enough for him?” he asked her. “The only time he ever paid
attention to me was when I did something wrong. When I was a boy, I
was too rambunctious, never serious enough for him, so he sent me
to boarding school thinking the stricter regiment would provide the
‘proper motivation’ for me to realize my station in life.” He gave
her a humorless smile. “When I was thirteen I got caught organizing
poker tournaments and got kicked out. He was so angry, but he found
another school for me and off I went again.”

Bianca reached out and placed a hand on his
shoulder. “I’m sure he meant well,” she offered. “Some people have
a hard time showing they care.”

He laughed, a harsh barking noise. “I made
it through high school without any incident. Well,” he gave Bianca
a wry smile. “I didn’t get caught at anything, at least. The
closest I ever came was getting caught at a few wild parties, but
my father was able to buy forgiveness for me those times.

“Then it came time for college, and we had
the biggest fight of my life. I’d developed a knack for …” he
trailed off, his face flushing slightly.

“What?” Bianca prompted. “Please tell
me.”

Mason gripped the steering wheel, his
knuckles turning white. “That first boarding school I went to? I
met a teacher. An art teacher. He saw something in me, the only
person who’s ever seen anything in me, and because of him, I
started taking extra art classes. I liked it. After a while, he was
giving me private tutoring sessions. Art gave me the chance to see
the world in a way I never had before. Soon, I started
experimenting with different mediums.” He gave her a sideways
glance. “Turns out I’m a halfway decent painter.”

Bianca squeezed his hand. “That’s wonderful.
Do you have any of your paintings? I’d love to see your work.”

“A few. The thing is, there was no way my
father was going to let me be an artist. I kept in contact with Mr.
Calibrio, the teacher who introduced me to art, and he recommended
me to a friend of his at one of the best art schools in the
world.”

“Which school?” Bianca asked.

His jaw clenched. “The Paris Sorbonne. I
begged my father to let me go, but he refused. He said I’d drink
and fuck my way across Europe and there was no way he was going to
shell out thousands of dollars so I could take a four year vacation
in Europe and catch some venereal disease from a French whore.” He
scowled. “Not to mention there would be zero benefit in it for
Freeman Industries.”

“I’m so sorry,” Bianca offered, not knowing
what else she could say.

“Me too. That’s how I ended up going to Duke
to study business. It was the old man’s alma mater. I never had a
chance.”

“What happened at Duke? Why are you going to
Portland state now?”

Mason grimaced. “Baby, you think you want to
know, but if I told you, you’d regret asking.”

“Really?” she rolled her eyes. “You think
I’m that delicate? I think you’ve been pretty frank about your
past. If I haven’t gotten squeamish yet, do you really think
anything you’d tell me now would change that?’

Mason lifted a brow. “You really want to
know?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” he shrugged. “I warned you.

“I managed to get through my freshman year
relatively unscathed. My grades weren’t fantastic, but good enough
to keep my father off my back.” He sighed and ran a hand through
his hair. “But I hated every goddamn minute of it. I hated the
flatness of North Carolina. I hated the humidity. I hated the
pretentious rich kids I went to class with and I hated myself for
being one of them. I hated the fraternity I joined just because my
old man was a Sigma Nu. And I hated studying business.” He
shuddered. “I can’t stand it.

“By the time I started my sophomore year I
felt like I was losing my mind. I didn’t know how to cope, so I
drank. A lot. The parties got wilder and wilder, more excessive,
more decadent. The other guys in my frat loved it.” He flashed her
a humorless smile. “They called me the ‘Ringmaster’ because every
party I threw turned into a circus.”

“I know college parties can get pretty
wild,” Bianca piped up. “But I’ve never been to anything too
crazy.”

Mason leaned back in his seat and put his
hands behind his head. “That’s because they don’t have parties here
like the ones I threw.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” he answered thoughtfully. “Once, we
threw a beach party. I filled the backyard of our frat house with
strobe lights and bubble machines, set up a forty foot high water
slide, and filled a bunch of kiddie pools with Jello made with
liquor. The party lasted for three days.” He smiled and glanced at
her. “It was a holiday weekend.”

Bianca smiled back at him. “And that didn’t
get you kicked out? What did?”

His eyes dropped to their entwined hands.
“We threw a pool party in the campus pool house. We drained the lap
pool and filled it with champagne.” He glanced back at her and
couldn’t stop a wicked little grin from spreading across his face.
“Had to have it trucked in. It was cheap shit, but it still cost a
fortune. My old man nearly lost his mind when he got my credit card
bill. Anyway, we filled the hot tub with whipped cream and held
topless wrestling matches. Clogged the filters something fierce, I
heard. They had to replace the whole damn thing. You couldn’t see
the ceiling for all the balloons floating above the pool. There
were hundreds of them. Maybe thousands, who knows? We set up a
stage in one corner and hired a live band, brought in a portable
bar and partied like it was the end of the world.”