Chapter Eight
Mason
I finished off my drink and set it down on the counter. Never once did I take my eyes off of Saylor and the asshole she was currently chatting it up with.
“Mason, how are you doing? I haven’t really seen you since you’ve gotten in town.”
Pulling my eyes away from Saylor, I turned to see Natalie Burns standing there. She was the sister of one of my college friends.
“Natalie,” I said with a halfhearted grin.
“Are you here with anyone?” she asked.
Glancing back over to Saylor, I stared at her for a few moments. My cock had gone hard as a rock when she opened her front door. So much so, it took everything out of me not to hike up her fucking dress and take her right there in the hall.
Asshole. You’re her boss.
Saylor laughed and the bastard she was talking to brushed a piece of her hair from her eyes.
“No. I came with a colleague of mine.”
“Really? Well, is there anywhere we can go to . . . talk?”
When I focused back on Natalie, I smiled. “I’m sure we can find somewhere to go.”
I made my way across the large living room. The house was fucking crazy and had to cost Jack and Carol a small fortune. When Jack gave us the tour earlier, I noted the empty office that was on the other side of the house. At the time, I had fantasized about fucking Saylor in there. Now I was taking one of my college buddies willing sisters to stand in Saylor’s place.
Jesus. Stop this, Mason. She works for you, and she clearly can’t stand the idea of even a kiss let alone hitting the sack together.
Natalie was following behind me. I couldn’t help but look over toward Saylor. Her smile faded as I walked by and if I hadn’t known any better, I would have thought I saw a pained expression.
When we finally made it to the empty room, I pulled Natalie over to the built in bookshelf. Lifting her dress, I buried my face into her neck. My hand was making its way up her leg.
“Yes. Mason. God yes.”
I cupped her pussy, and she bucked toward me. Her breathing almost in a pant while she dug her nails into my back.
“Take me, Mason.”
Then something happened that had never happened to me before.
My dick wouldn’t come up. The fucker wouldn’t even budge. Not even a small jump.
Nothing.
My fucking cock was broken, and I knew why.
Saylor.
I pulled my hand out of from under her dress and took a few steps back. “I’m sorry, Natalie. I can’t.”
Her breathing was still labored. “W-what do y-you mean? You can’t?”
Shrugging, I replied, “I can’t do this.”
With a quick adjustment of her tits in her dress, she pouted. “Can’t get him up, Quinn? I see you don’t have the same reputation as your cousin did. I had no problem getting his dick hard.”
My mouth fell open. “You’ve fucked Sterling?”
Natalie gave me a smirk and replied, “It was a long time ago, but still, I guess it isn’t in the blood.”
I couldn’t believe my damn ears. “Yeah well, maybe I smelled a skank.”
Her eyes turned black, and she slapped me across the face. “Fuck you, Mason Quinn!”
The next thing I heard was the door slamming and heels clicking on the floor.
Not sure how long I sat alone in that room before I stood and dragged in a deep breath. I made my way back into the main living room and glanced around, looking for Saylor. Jack caught my eye and nodded his head as he walked over to me.
“Jesus Christ, what did you do to Natalie? She came tearing into the living room cursing like a damn sailor and stormed out.”
Rolling my eyes, I mumbled, “Great. That’s just what I needed. Where is Saylor?”
Jack laughed. “Natalie wasn’t the only one who was pissed. When your co-worker saw Natalie she must have put two and two together. She took off with Drake right after.”
My stomach dropped. “Drake? Who the fuck is Drake?”
With a loud bark of laughter, Jack shook his head. “Seriously dude, you don’t bring a date to a party and fuck a different girl in my spare office.”
“I didn’t fuck Natalie. I wasn’t into her.”
He lifted his chin, “Oh, that explains why she was so damn pissed.”
My anger was quickly beginning to build. “Who is this Drake asshole that’s with my date?”
Now Jack’s face fell, and he slowly shook his head. “Mason. Listen to yourself. If Saylor had truly been your date, you wouldn’t have dragged another girl off to screw, regardless if you got your dick to work or not. You introduced her as a work collogue and then left her to fend for herself.”
“I brought her here so she could meet some people. She’s new in town. I didn’t realize that meant I was stuck to her like glue.”
“Then make up your goddamn mind,” he shot back in a loud whisper. “She was either a co-worker or your date. Either way, you sneaking off to release your snake was a shit thing to do. I don’t blame the girl for leaving and, to be honest, Drake’s a good guy. Rich, funny, and not a douche.”
Ouch. That one hurt.
“Yeah well, thanks for letting me know how you really feel about me, Jack. I’m out of here.”
“Mason. Come on, dude.”
I lifted my hand and gave it a wave. “Love the house. Left my gift on the table.”
“Mason!” Jack cried out.
The second I hit the lobby I raced out to the valet. “I need my car, fast. A hundred bucks for you if you bring it up next.”
Handing the young kid a hundred, he smiled. “Yes, sir. Right away sir.”
I reached for my phone and pulled up Saylor’s number. My fingers quickly typed out a message.
Me: Where are you?
Saylor: Why do you care? You actually abandoned me twice tonight. Thanks for that . . . Mr. Quinn.
Me: Where in the fuck are you, Saylor? You don’t know New York, and you don’t know the guy you’re with.
Saylor: You clearly knew the girl you snuck off with, then again, maybe you didn’t. Hope you used protection. Wait! This might not be an appropriate conversation between two co-workers. Colleagues. Work associates and last but certainly my favorite. Boss and employee.
The valet pulled up with my car and handed me the keys. “Thanks,” I mumbled as I got in. Hitting the steering wheel, I yelled out a loud fuck. What in the hell was this girl doing to me? I couldn’t think straight. All I wanted to do was find this Drake and punch the living shit out of him.
I hit the gas and headed over to Saylor’s place. I had no idea if she would be there or not, but I had every intention of sitting outside her damn door until she got home.
I slammed my brakes on in front of Saylor’s expensive-ass Manhattan apartment building and threw my BMW into park. The valet made haste to the driver’s side.
“Will you be here all evening, sir?”
Stopping, I looked at him and grinned. “Yes.”
The doorman recognized me from earlier. “Ah, good evening, Mr. Quinn, will you be visiting Ms. Night?”
“Yes,” I responded with a forced smile. “Is she here?”
He nodded. “She arrived just a bit ago with a visitor. Would you like me to announce you?”
My blood started to boil. “No, that’s okay, she’s expecting me.”
With another nod, he easily let me into the building. If that was my doorman and he just let any Tom, Dick, or Harry in, I’d be fuming.
I hit the elevator button so hard I was afraid I broke it. My hand ran through my hair as I sighed. I honestly didn’t peg Saylor for hooking up with a total stranger. I reminded myself that was why I was here, to save her from some lunatic asshole that she only met hours ago.
Fuck.
She’d only met me a week ago, and here I was playing her savior.
The bell chimed, signaling I was on Saylor’s floor. Inhaling a breath, I headed down the long hall. Stopping, I leaned against the wall.
What am I doing?
Saylor can go home with anyone she wants. I’m only her boss, not her fucking boyfriend.
“Son-of-a-bitch. I need to get laid.”
Pushing off the wall, I headed back to the elevator. When I hit the down button, I closed my eyes and tried to clear the erratic thoughts swirling around in my head.
I was not interested in Saylor. Hell, I wasn’t interested in any woman. I had a career I needed to focus on. I had finally made it to the top, and I wasn’t about to become unfocused now. From the moment Saylor Night entered my world she had thrown me completely off my balance.
No more.
The doors opened, and I stepped outside. Taking my phone out, I pulled up my contacts and looked for her number. Once I was back in the lobby of the building, I motioned for the valet.
“Looks like I’m not staying after all.”
He frowned. “Sorry dude.”
I smiled. “Oh, don’t be sorry. My night’s about to turn around.”
Hitting the number, I waited for Annie to answer.
“Bloody hell, if it isn’t Mason Quinn.”
Annie Davies. She had been my cousin Sterling’s flavor of the month a few years back. Not that I took his scraps, but hell, when they look like Annie with a body to boot, then yeah. I’ll take my cousins sloppy seconds. And to top off the British accent, she was an amazing fuck.
“You busy tonight, Annie?”
“For you? No. I heard you’re living in Manhattan now. Want me to come to your place?”
The valet pulled my BMW up, and I tipped him a twenty.
I laughed because Annie knew better. In all of my years, I had never brought a casual fuck back to my place. Not even my hotels. If I had to get a hotel I would, but something about bringing them to my place made it seem too . . . real.
“You still live in the same building Sterling does?” I asked.
“I do.”
“I’ll be there in twenty.”