Page 37 of Playing with the Boss
SEVENTEEN
Lisa
My email calendar, desk diary, and the fake quote I printed all say I’m with a client. All I have to do now is pray that nobody actually mentions anything about this bullshit meeting with the client.
Damn it. This is risky.
My heart pounds as I ride the lift to Mason’s floor. It beats to heavy, so forcefully, that I can feel it everywhere: my toes, my fingertips, my neck, and most frustratingly, between my legs.
I snatch a second before reaching his floor to triple-check my reflection in the mirrored walls of the lift. It’ll have to do. My hair is wind-whipped and knotted at the ends, but there’s only so much I can do with my fingers and no spray to tame the flyaways.
By the time I reach the room, my hands are clammy and I swear I’m going to be sick. Meeting Mason doesn’t have me this anxious. Hell no. It’s the possibility that an already suspicious Tony might finally be able to prove his theory about Mason and me.
You only live once, right?
I knock on the door, squashing down fleeting thoughts about how much I feel like a call girl at this point in time.
He answers in nothing but his boxers. Save my soul. His hair is still damp from what I assume was a shower, his skin flushed, which only adds to the golden tan that adorns his whole body.
I default to my failsafe when I feel awkward: humor. “Am I overdressed?”
A wicked grin tugs at his lips. “Not for long. Get in here.”
I walk past him into the central part of the suite, catching a whiff of his intoxicating cologne as I go by. My God, that man knows how to smell delicious.
“I really do want to apologize.” I drop my purse to the small coffee table and turn to face Mason as he shuts the door. “I shouldn’t have assumed that just because you have your finances in order, you wouldn’t take my review seriously.”
He huffs a small laugh out his nose, ducking his chin with a smile. “I didn’t always have it this together.”
“No?” It shouldn’t, but that one little fact about him relaxes me.
“I wasted a lot of money on things, and people, that didn’t matter before I decided to make a change.” He closes the distance between us in slow strides. “This is merely the last five years of focused work.”
“Honestly.” I fold my arms over my stomach, unsure what to do with them now I have nothing to hold. “It doesn’t matter. It was shallow of me to treat you how I did.”
“You were acting out of fear.” Mason stops before me, placing a warm hand to my jaw. “I get it.”
“Forgiven, then?” I peer into his dark eyes, looking for any shred of doubt or ill intent. All I find is the same confusion I feel in this moment.
“Forgiven.” He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. “Now it’s my turn to apologize.”
I frown as his hand drifts to the neck of my blouse. “What for?”
“Acting like a complete and utter douche when you wanted to leave the other night.”
I smile as he lifts his other hand and gets to work on my buttons. “I believe you were acting out of fear, also.”
“I was,” he agrees, deftly parting my blouse. “But not for the reason you might think.”
“You said you were desperate to make me stay.”
“I was.” His palms slide under the soft cotton and push the halves aside. “But I wasn’t fearful that I couldn’t make you stay.”
“No?” The fabric slides from my shoulders. I pull my arms back and allow the blouse to fall to the floor.
“I was fearful,” he murmurs, gaze fixed to the swell of my breasts as he traces first one, and then the other with heated fingertips. “Of how I’d feel if you did stay.”
He’s not making sense. He wanted me to stay, but he was terrified if I did. “I don’t get it.”