Chapter 3

Mason

My limo pulled up to the front of Low Light, and part of me felt a bit unnerved. The outside was fairly dirty, and someone needed to fucking change the bulbs in the sign. Was this what Winston had been talking about? Was this his idea of the “real world?” If so, I wasn’t impressed.

I got out and slammed the limo door. Judging from the look of the place, I was overdressed. No matter. I smoothed my shirt down and walked through the front door. The smell of cheap alcohol hit my nose, and I couldn’t hear myself think above the dull roar of people yelling over their backwash drinks.

Yep. This was exactly what Winston had been talking about.

The establishments I was used to had painted walls and dimly lit table lamps. The tablecloths were crisp, white linen, and people conversed in hushed whispers. Women ate their miniature salads with small forks that accentuated their delicate hands, and men cut their marbled steaks while sitting back leisurely in their velvet chairs.

This place had the name Low Light, but it was anything but. Harsh, unflattering lights lit the scene. The chairs didn’t have padding, and the food came in massive portions. Women shoved their faces into greasy appetizers, and I didn’t think anyone was even being seated with silverware. What kind of woman had I talked to that wanted to come here? Jesus, at least have some class.

“Can I seat you somewhere, sir?” a woman said. She was all but shouting at me.

My eyes scanned the dimly lit bar, taking in the tacky paintings on the walls. I shoved my hands into my pockets before I turned to the door. Screw this night. I’d be able to find someone to date before the weekend was out who didn’t require me to come to a place where the floors looked like they’d never been cleaned.

But then I saw it, that flaming blue hair from her profile picture. She was sitting at the bar with her forearms resting on the poorly varnished wood. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Her floral-printed dress sat slightly off her shoulders, and her bright blue hair was piled high on her head. The ruby red pearl necklace she wore was obviously fake, but it highlighted the graceful lines of her neck.

She turned to one of the bartenders and laughed at something they said, and I got a nice shot of the tits she had stuffed into that dress. The material hugged her and showed the dip in her waist before ending just below her knees. Her brightly colored heels matched the necklace draped around her neck that settled in the crook of her bosom.

The women who usually surrounded me were copycats of Eva, tall, lanky, with stick-straight brown hair. They were the prized pigs of their fathers, who couldn’t wait to marry them off before boasting of the rich man his only daughter had snagged. But this girl was different.

Just then, I realized I didn’t know her name.

I found myself removing my hands from my pockets and disregarding the woman yelling at me to be seated. I walked up to the girl at the bar and stood just behind her. When she turned around and looked up at me, her effortless beauty stole the breath from my lungs.

Her big green eyes were topped lightly with a painted streak of black, highlighting how high her cheekbones were on her face. Her apple red cheeks and button nose were peppered with freckles that I felt the insatiable need to kiss. Her lips were stained the same color red as the accessories to her outfit.

I was hooked, and my urge to leave dissolved.

I flashed her a smile. “Mason,” I said, introducing myself.

She nodded. “Ash.”

“May I sit?”

“Be my guest,” she said, gesturing at the stool beside her.

“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked.

“Scotch on the rocks, please. And another for Ash, whatever she’s having.”

I looked back over at her, and she smiled. For a quick second, I caught a glimpse of a nervous side to her. It was strikingly different than the confident woman I saw laughing at the bar earlier, so I decided to try to make her more comfortable.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

I stuck out my hand for her to shake, and she promptly placed hers in mine. The warmth that cascaded up my arm took me by surprise. Her skin was so soft and delicate for someone so confident and outspoken, and for a moment, I felt my pelvis begin to tighten.

“Another appletini,” the bartender called out. “And a rocked scotch.”

“Thank you,” I said back to her. I picked up my scotch and turned to Ash.

“To the evening,” she said and raised her martini glass.

I smiled. “To the evening.”

“Did you have problems finding the place?” she asked.

I watched her red lips wind around the rim of the glass, and I had to shift in my chair to keep myself under control. I was already growing hard underneath the fabric of my pants, and I didn’t want to scare her off.

For whatever reason, that had become important to me. I had walked in here ready to leave immediately. Now I refused to go home until I locked things down with Ash.

“My driver knows his way around the city,” I said, “so finding this place was easy.”

“Oh, fancy! So, you have a driver? Do you also have a chef and a maid? Maybe one that prances around in a fun little number?”

“Depends on the time of year and how much I pay her,” I said, grinning.

Her giggle fell from her ruby red lips, and all I could think about was getting them wrapped around my cock. I felt my pants tightening, and I gave myself a massive pat on the back for wearing black slacks that would hide my growing arousal.

“So,” she began, “what’s a man like you doing on a site like the one you found me on?”

“I suppose I could ask you the same thing,” I countered.

“Well, not really since I don’t have a dick,” she said, smirking.

Ash didn’t hold back apparently, and I enjoyed that about her. It was a nice change to get away from the mindless drone of polite conversation and women talking about remodeling their kitchens for the seventh time that year.

“Well, that’s good,” I said. “I’m better with clits anyway.”

“I would hope so. I’m putting a lot of faith in you.” She winked.

God, she was killing me. The freckles on her little nose shifted when she winked, and if she stayed this flirtatious, I’d be walking out of here with a wet stain on the front of my pants.

“So, tell me,” I said. “You expect me to believe that a woman as beautiful as you has never had an orgasm?”

She shook her head. “Not with a man, no.”

“So, you give them to yourself just fine?” I asked.

“I give everything to myself just fine, thank you very much.”

“Ah, so sexy and independent. Got it. Does this mean you’ll be paying for drinks?”

“Nope. You get to buy the drinks and do the work,” she said, giggling.

Her smile lit up her face, and her green eyes twinkled whenever she laughed. Our conversation continued like this all evening, and by the time we were sipping on our third drinks, I was hard as a rock sitting beside her.

I tried crossing my legs and shifting my body away from her to shield the blatant reaction I was having to her mere presence. Eventually, her eyes flickered down and stayed there just a bit too long.

“Like what you see?” I asked.

“Depends on what I’m looking at,” Ash said. “Is that a sock, or are you just happy to see me?”

“What if I told you I was ecstatic to see you?”

Her eyes softened, and there was an innocence that overtook her face. This thick, luscious woman with eyes like the sea and pillowy, ruby lips might have thought she knew what she was getting into, but she sure as hell had no idea she was only scratching the surface.

Of course, her mind was on getting a man to make her come. She probably had one of those best friends like mine who constantly told her what she was missing out on in life. Winston ragged me about never doing anything new, and her best friend probably ragged her about never having an orgasm.

Ash had probably been with immature boys who simply stuck their dick in her, pumped a few times, and then blasted their loads on her chest because, “oh my god, look at her boobs!”

She had no idea what it meant to be with a man, to be with someone who wanted to run their hands along her curves and pepper her breasts with kisses. She had no idea what it meant for a man to feast his tongue on the insides of her thighs before licking her clean. She had no idea what it meant to wrap those soft thighs around someone’s head and lose control of her fucking mind only for her back to drop back down onto the mattress and into the hands of someone who would do her no wrong.

“You’re ecstatic to see me?” she asked, ripping me from my thoughts.

Her eyes begged for an answer she wasn’t sure would come. I took her hand within mine just to feel that warmth again and to make sure it hadn’t been a fluke. Electricity shot up my arm, and I was thankful for wearing a long-sleeved shirt. I didn’t want her to see the goosebumps puckering my skin just from her touching me.

After all, I was introducing her to things, not the other way around.

“I’m ready if you are,” I said quietly.

Hesitation washed over her face, but that wasn’t a surprise. We’d only just met, and it hadn’t even been in an organic way. It had been through a random website. This wasn’t even a date. We’d met up with the explicit intention of me bringing her to an orgasm.

If things moved forward between us, I’d make sure she was screaming and writhing in pleasure the rest of the night. I watched the debate rage behind her eyes, and I was glad it was happening because it gave me a chance to lose myself in their green depths.

“I live a couple blocks that way,” she said. “If you’d like to head out?”

I smiled and took her hand before I slipped my arm around her waist. We meandered out of the bar and took a hard left, and we slowly began to walk through the nighttime of downtown L.A.

Winston was right. This was definitely different than what I was used to, and I wasn’t sure if I felt completely comfortable knowing this innocent, doe-eyed woman was living off a dark alley like this. My grip tightened on her waist, pulling her closer to me, and the surge of my protective nature caught me by surprise.

“We’re here,” she said.

I looked up at the building and wondered how in the world her family felt all right with her living here. The door she opened had bars on it, and she had to shove her shoulder into the door before it finally creaked open.

“I’m on the first floor,” she said.

She led me down a dim hallway before we came to a lone door. When she opened her apartment up, it was surprisingly bright. Her mismatched furniture came in all shapes and colors, and the curtains that draped the one window in her living room were sheer in texture but tie-dyed to match her colorful nature.

“Let me show you around,” she said, smiling.

She pointed out paintings on the walls I didn’t recognize and a few sculptures that seemed interesting but foreign. I found myself a little uncomfortable. I wasn’t used to looking at art I didn’t recognize. When we made it into her small kitchen, she said something that caught me completely off guard.

“Don’t hurt yourself if you don’t recognize them,” she said. “I did all that stuff.”

“Wait, you painted those?” I asked.

“And did the sculptures, too.”

She handed me a bottle of water with a cute smile on her face, and I didn’t try to hide the shock that rolled over my face.

“My dream is to one day make a living with my jewelry line,” she said. “And I’d really love to study jewelry making in Milan at some point in time.”

“I go to Milan quite a bit to shop,” I said mindlessly. I couldn’t take my eyes off the artwork on her walls, especially knowing she had painted them.

“That’s a shame,” she said. “Milan has so much more to offer…”

The way she trailed that statement off caught my attention, and I whipped back toward her and set my unopened bottle of water on the table.

“Maybe I just need to travel there with someone who understands that then,” I said.

She brought her bottle of water to her lips and paused, the bottle not quite filling her mouth with its liquid. I could tell she was analyzing me. She resumed her drinking before she set the bottle down on her small kitchen counter.

“Come here,” she beckoned.

She held out her hand and I took it. She led me through the small one-bedroom apartment. She opened a door and led me in, and when she flicked on the light, I saw her bed in the middle of the room.

But for the first time in my entire life, the bed wasn’t what I was focused on. Her walls were covered in beautiful murals, and each surface held something different. The wall behind her headboard was painted in something akin to black chalkboard paint, and the wall I had my back to had a painted sunrise on it. The wall to my left had swirling designs in bright colors that matched the bright decorum of her entire home. The wall to my right held a massive painted quote written in bold capital letters:

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams,” I read aloud.

“It’s my favorite quote,” she said lightly.

“Did you do all this?” I asked.

“In my spare time, yeah. My best friend, Frank, helped me, but I came up with all the designs and colors we used.”

“It’s incredible.”

“Thanks,” she said.

Whatever dam was holding me back burst at that very moment. This quirky, vibrant woman, with her swirling curves and her witty banter, was clawing at a part of me. I wanted to bury myself between her legs so badly I would burn up if I didn’t.

I strode over to her and wrapped one arm around her waist. I pulled her flush against my body, and she lightly gasped. She had drawn me in with her personality, and I was about to drill into her with my body.

I thrust my lips onto hers, and she willingly parted them for me. Her tongue danced along the roof of my mouth, and my hands took on a life of their own. I gripped her back and picked her up off her feet. I backed up toward the bed, and when I felt my knees hit the edge, I dropped her quickly to the mattress and climbed on beside her.

Her hands ran through my hair, and I kissed her. I could feel her lipstick covering the bottom half of my face. When she drew the skin of my neck in between her teeth, I couldn’t help the low groan that escaped.

My hands cupped her massive tits, and I pulled the fabric of her dress down, revealing the nakedness of them underneath the thin fabric that had shielded her from me all night. I wrapped my lips around them and felt her buck into me. I knew then and there that this prize wouldn’t take me long to claim. She’d been wanton and begging for far too long, and I would make her body mine, time and time again, before I left her to her own devices.

Her breaths turned into pants when my hands migrated lower. I pushed up the fabric of her dress, and I could already smell her womanhood wafting from between her legs. My cock throbbed in my pants, and I had to reach down and unbuckle my belt to free it from its strained confines. My lips grazed over her plump thighs while my fingers danced along her naked stomach, and every time her body jumped, I couldn’t help but smirk.

And then that magic word fell effortlessly from her lips, and I knew I’d give her exactly what she wanted, over and over again.

“Please, Mason,” she moaned. “Oh, please.”

I hooked my fingers into her panties and slowly slid them down her legs. I discarded them, and her legs parted for me. She was so ready for what she knew I could give her. Her glistening pussy was begging to be stroked by my tongue.

And who was I to deny the burning lust of a begging, attractive woman like Ash?