your snoring gets too much. How about that?”
She looks away, embarrassed. “Like I said, all this is new to me. You probably have a different girl every night.”
That makes me stop in my tracks, almost wanting to put her down so I can tell her more firmly, to her face.
“No, Jules. I don’t. I never have. I need you to understand that, okay? I’ve spent my whole adult life working, building this up.”
I can hear myself getting just as animated as she was, talking about her boss. I just don’t want her to think, not even for one second, that I’m some kind of playboy.
“It’s just you and me, alright? That’s all you need to know. There’s no one else. Never has been and there never will be,” I growl.
I don’t mean to sound angry, but I need her to understand. I need her to know she’s the only one I’ll ever want no matter want.
“Then I guess this is new for both of us,” she observes, and I feel my whole body, my whole soul relax.
“I guess it is,” I agree. “Now, let’s find you a robe, and I must have a spare toothbrush somewhere.
Chapter Thirteen
Jules
For all my self-conscious worries, for all my sounding like an old woman…
I’ve never seen a more beautiful living space. I’ve never known a more comfortable bed and I’ve most definitely never had such good company.
Mason is the perfect gentleman, and once I get used to seeing his manhood bobbing around, and having him tell me over and over that it’s fine if we don’t… Well. I realize I’ve actually never felt safer or more comfortable with anyone or anywhere in my whole life.
It actually feels like home.
Although I don’t tell Mason that. Not just yet.
I try to stay awake, I really do. Having a man the size and with the physique of Mason is like every girl’s fantasy come true, but I really am a lights out by ten o’clock girl.
Even on a Saturday.
And after the near complete servicing he’s already given me, I practically fall asleep in his arms as soon as my head hits the pillows.
I don’t want to open my eyes. I want to stay in the dream I’m having.
The one where Mason’s head is between my legs and he’s doing that thing with his mouth before he kisses me, making me…
I open my eyes.
Suddenly aware that Mason’s not next to me, that I’m all alone in his huge bed.
A pillow’s between my legs and I need to pee. A lot.
I wasn’t exaggerating too much, I do move around a lot in my sleep and I only hope my snoring didn’t force him to sleep on a couch or somewhere else.
I find a bathroom adjoining his bedroom which is as big as my whole apartment.
Everything is so clean, so new looking.
So expensive.
He’s a big man, so everything is probably larger and scaled up than what I’m used to, but nothing feels cold. None of his things or any part of this whole place feels sterile or empty, although there is an awful lot of space.
I slept naked, which isn’t like me at all, and before he finds me I want to cover up. The whole morning after and it being daylight now and all.
I was like an animal in heat last night, but this morning after seeing myself in the full length mirror in his bathroom and bedroom?
I’m covering up.
I find a robe, which is like twenty sizes too big, so I settle for the shirt Mason wore last night and have a little bit of a snoop (not too much though), I find a pair of boxers which I’m ashamed to say actually fit me. A little too snug, I might add, but anything of Mason’s is fine by me.
The penthouse seems to have a series of rooms that must be where Mason actually spends his spare time, with the rest I dunno. It’s like a huge glass observatory, filled with huge plants, staircases leading who knows where and a whole foyer of elevators.
A huge staircase leads up to what looks like a pool area, not somewhere I see myself right now, so I stick to the spaces that feel like home.
After a few minutes of getting lost and finding my way again, I hear his familiar, deep baritone voice.
A large pair of oak doors open out onto a familiar space, his office. And I can see him sitting on the edge of his desk in a robe, phone