Mason:Inked Reapers MC(13)

       
           



       



I gripped the edge of the dresser that I was leaning on and swallowed. "Okay."



"Do you have a thing for Mason Day?"



"What?" I scoffed already feeling my cheeks burn. "Why would you think that?"



"Because he's here and he's asking for you."



I did my best not to look surprised. After the other night, the last  thing I thought he'd do is come around looking for me. "He's probably  just meeting with Jayson and looking to kill some time." I fiddled with  the buckle on my skirt. "That's what I'm here for, right?" I tried to  give a smile, but I couldn't quite make it.



"Jayson's not here." She stood from the bed. "You're playing with a fire  that will get you killed, baby girl." Her hands smoothed over my  shoulders. "Be careful. Lucas is out there talking to him."



"Send him away." I ignored the pain building in my chest. "Or just tell him to come back when Jayson's around."



"Lucas told me to come get you." Her hands dropped from my shoulder, and she gave a little shake of her head.



"Okay, then." I pushed away from the dresser. I wouldn't show my hurt.  I'd shove it deep down, bury it where it would have to stay.



"Sometimes I wish I could go back in time to when you first showed up here with Kerri.



I'd kick your ass out. Never let you hang around."



"Why?" I paused in the hallway. She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.



"Jayson's an asshole, always has been. If it weren't for Lucas, he probably would have



me under the same shit he has you, after helping me out. But I had my  brother as a sort of currency- you were so innocent. No one to save you  from big bad men like Jayson. But I'm telling you, stay away from Mason.  He's only going to break you, if Jayson doesn't take care of it first."  She left me standing in the hall alone.



I heard her tell Lucas I'd be right out, and for a moment I was tempted  to run back to my room and lock the door. "Lucy." Mason's voice got my  feet moving. He hadn't seen me yet. "Come here." I rolled my eyes at the  cockiness in his voice. Like I would just come because he snapped his  fingers. And damn my legs for being so damn obedient and taking me right  to where he sat with Lucas.



Lucas turned his cool gaze on me and gave me a soft smile. "This asshat here wants



to talk with you. Jayson isn't here to give the okay, so you'll be taking him into the pool room there."



"Thanks, Lucas." The room that was set off from the main lounge had two  pool tables. Although there was a door, the walls were all windows. He'd  be able to see us the entire time. Which meant Mason would have to keep  his hands off me. A small part of me was disappointed, while the sane  part felt relief.



Mason shut the door to the room and I leaned against the pool table. "Wanna play nine



ball?" I asked with a smile. He kept his back to the door and his narrowed gaze on me. Like he was pissed at me for something.



"I wanted to talk to you about the other night."



"What for?" I picked up a ball from the table and rolled it between my  hands. "I'm sorry I walked in on you, Jayson sent me- probably because  he wanted me to find you with her." I shrugged a shoulder. No sense in  letting him see how finding him with his cock in some other girls mouth  had affected me.



"That girl, she's just-"



"A whore." I nodded and dropped the ball on the table, watching it roll  across the green felt until it bounced back toward me. "Like me." I gave  him a smile and walked around the table. Having it between us felt more  comfortable. A barrier.



"You are no whore." His eye narrowed even more, the muscles of his arms  tensed over his chest, where they were crossed. The stance he held  looked more like a war pose than a guy just wanting to get laid.



I laughed. "You're an idiot if you think that."



"There's something else going on. You aren't some club groupie out to  fuck the guys until you get made an old lady. Fuck, the other day you  made it sound like you'd rather die than be married to a member."



I looked up at him, he dropped his arms, his hands now shoved into his  jeans. He didn't' look any less dangerous in that stance. "That's about  right." I nodded and picked up the ball again. "Look, if you feel guilty  about getting your dick sucked by someone else- stop. It's not like I  haven't had another cock in me. We aren't a thing-"                       
       
           



       



"What other cock?"



"Mason. We aren't a thing- a couple, or anything else. For fuck sake,  Jayson gave me to you the first night you were here. Did you think you  were special? That you were the first and only guy he's done that with?"



"I want to know why." He walked over to the table, putting his fists on  the felt and leaned over toward me. His lips thin, his eyes dark. "I  want to know what the fuck you are doing here with Jayson. You don't  like the MC, you hate Jayson. Why don't you just leave? Just run away?"



My breath caught in my chest. Run away. Like I hadn't thought about a  few dozen times. I had no money, no friends or family out there waiting  to rescue me. Without the club, as much as I hated it, I had nothing.



"Mason." His eyes didn't waver as they centered on me. I took a breath, a long, slow breath. "It's not that easy."



"I want to know what Jayson has over you, and I want to know now. Or, you're gonna find out what a discipline spanking is."



I felt the heat of embarrassment on my face. He wouldn't do that. "Lucas  can see us." I reminded him, pointing toward the windows with my head.



He stood up, resting his hands on his belt buckle. "I don't give a fuck.  I'll have you bent over this table and a give you a good dozen lashes  before he gets in here. And then, he'll probably let me finish, so long  as I let your tits hang out of that shirt." His words were crude, more  so than usual because they were probably true.



I eyed Lucas, still sitting at the same table. Jessica had taken Mason's  chair. They were taking, but Lucas glanced over at me now and again.  Even if he did put a stop to it, Mason probably would get as far as he  threatened.



"You'd get your ass kicked." I grinned, an empty threat. These Disciples  didn't give a shit for me. Most of them didn't even know my name.



"Maybe." He looked like the idea didn't' bother him in the least.  Probably because it would take half a dozen of them to take him down-  and he knew it. "If you think these windows will keep me from putting  you over the table, you're wrong. You know it. But you also know that  you'd fucking love it."



I wouldn't argue that fact. I would love it. Damn him. "Why are you so hung up on this?"



Relentless in his pursuit of the truth, but to what purpose. "I'm just a clubhouse whore-"



"If that were truly the case, your eyes wouldn't show such disgust for  Jayson when he walked into the room. You wouldn't have to hide your  repulsion for the other members when they talk to you at the bar. You  are no clubhouse whore."



"A whore nonetheless." I shrugged. He needed to let this go.



"Maybe. For me at least. The best kind." His words made my skin tingle.  The way he said them, with a raspiness to his voice, the low manner in  which he spoke. As though he only wanted me to hear, really hear him.  "You have thirty seconds." He began to unbuckle his belt. I watched his  fingers pull the leather back, work the metal clasp. Lucas had walked  away, sitting at the bar with Jessica. His back was to us now.



"Okay." I put my hands out as the leather strap slowly began to be  pulled from the belt loops of his jeans. "Fine. You want to know. Fine."  My temper flared. Fuck him. Fuck all of them. "Kerri, my friend. She  brought me here when I needed a place to stay. Jayson was nice at first,  real accommodating." I swallowed hard. His attention fully on me, his  hands stilled on his belt, but didn't let go. "I owe him. After Kerri  tried leaving, he turned on me. Said I had to pay him back for the room  and board." I told him everything; every stupid detail, every  humiliating moment. My surprise that Jayson would suggest something so  horrible, much less actually mean it, to the moment he walked in and I  was handed to him.



His expression remained stoic throughout my ramblings, though his jaw  clenched several times. When I had finished, I dropped the ball back on  the table letting the loud clank of it sit between us. I waited for a  reaction. A look of disgust, a laugh. Anything. Instead, he ran his hand  through his hair and creased his brow. "How much are we talking?"