Mr. President:A Billionaire & Virgin Fake Fiance Romance(220)

What can I do? This snake of a woman has the power to ruin me, and Kane Price, the company I've worked so hard to build up.

Do I force her out and risk her backlash?

Do I walk out, and leave her standing here, wondering?

As I'm trying to figure out how I can get out of this, I realize Lorna has my shirt completely open.

"Mason, you're even more  …  impressive than I had imagined," she says,  using her cold fingers to trace the contours of my muscular chest.

Great. The last thing I want to do is impress this woman.

"Look out there," she says, pointing to the glittering cityscape of New York City. "Together, you and I will rule this city."

"Not if I have anything to do with it," I mutter. "There is no 'we.'  There's just 'I.' And we'd certainly never rule anything  … let alone the  whole of New York City by making bad investments."         

     



 

"Oh come on now," Lorna laughs. "Are we going to talk about that again? I  thought we've moved past that. Let's have a little fun, shall we?"

She hooks her fingers under my belt loops and slowly unbuckles my belt. I  can hear the clink of the metal buckle unfastening and I shift  uncomfortably, my pulse increasing.

"I can't do this," I say, pushing her hands off my belt.

She isn't listening. "Of course you can," she purrs, "and you will.  We're married, remember? This is what husbands and wives do." She renews  her efforts, shoving her fingers under the waistband of my boxers.

My stomach lurches at her touch and at the thought of Lorna as my wife.  She's one of the most heartless people I've ever encountered in my  life-and I've encountered a lot of despicable people on Wall Street.  There's no upside to being with a woman like her.

I push her off me again, and this time I stand up from the couch. It's a  bold move and Lorna isn't happy. Her eyes are as cold and unpredictable  as a brewing storm.

"I won't say this again, Mason," she says, glaring at me. "You better do  as I say and follow my lead, starting with Red Lion Aviation."

"I've already told you, it's a terrible investment," I say. "Red Lion  Aviation is an Indonesian airline with one of the worst safety records  in the industry. It's not uncommon to hear that another one of their  planes has taken a nose dive into the ocean."

"Minor details," Lorna waves dismissively. "Planes go down. People understand that. They're still far safer than cars."

I'm not willing to hear her reasons for why we should invest in Red Lion  Aviation because no matter what, I've performed the market research,  crunched the numbers, and I know that it doesn't make sense on any  level.

"I won't do it," I reply.

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me."

"I'd carefully reconsider what you're saying," she hisses. She walks  over and grabs her purse from the table. "Because if you don't, I'll  make sure the Board sees that you are unfit to lead this company."

Without saying another word, she walks to the door and steps out before slamming it shut behind her.

Fuck me. How did I allow myself to get into this mess?

Just as I'm about to sit back down on the couch and try and forget about Lorna for the night, I hear a knock on the door.

I hope she isn't back for another round.

I open the door.

And I see her  …  it's Becca.

But she looks different. There's a suspicious look to her eyes.





174





Becca





I shouldn't be here at his apartment. Every fiber in my brain is telling  me that I should just turn the other direction and walk away.

No, I should probably run away.

As far away from Mason and my mother as I can get.

If I have half an ounce of common sense in my head I won't go any  deeper. I'll cut my losses and tell myself it was what it was-a very  hot, passionate affair with an older man who just happens to be my  stepdad.

But that's if I had any common sense.

That's if I could make myself forget how hot he made me when he held me.  How excited I got when my hand wrapped around his hard shaft. How I  felt him grow in my hand. How I made him hard.

Sure, he's a playboy. I knew that going into it.

He's 16 years older than me. I can do the math.

But the times that we've been together, when he's taken control of my  body-owned it and used it for his pleasure-can never be forgotten.

I can't forget his cock inside of me, stretching me out.

I can't forget seeing his eyes roll back into his head when I put him in my mouth and run my tongue up and down his shaft.

When I pumped him repeatedly.

When I licked his tip.

When I made him cum.

Oh God, when he came. It's almost as hot as when I think back to how he makes me cum.

See where my mind has gone? See what's happened?

No, I'm definitely not thinking with my brain.

I'm thinking with my clit.

Is that even possible for a woman to do? I've heard of guys who think  with their cocks, but women are supposed to be smarter than that, aren't  they? I mean, your husband or your boyfriend, babe. You're way smarter  than him, right?

So why am I standing here then like a ridiculous deer looking at headlights?

I mean, thank God Mom didn't see me as she walked off. She was walking  the other direction, but she was too busy straightening her clothes out  to notice anything.

Mason recognized me though.

He's looking straight at me.

I can't help myself. I should be running away. I should be protecting myself from what Mom can do to guys.

But I don't run away, do I?

I stay here as he comes up to me.

I can smell his cologne wafting into my nostrils and I close my eyes as I inhale. He smells like...man.

All of those thoughts of self-preservation that were in the back of my head are now completely gone.

All of the dark, twisted, sexual desires that I've been living with  Mason-fucking my older stepdad-are back and stronger than ever.

It's as if the demon Lust has taken control of my body. Because when I open my eyes, Mason's standing in front of me.

He looks at me silently. He's so confident. So strong.

And why shouldn't he be?

He knows he owns me.

The way he grabs me by the arm and starts walking toward the open door  to his apartment. I have no choice but to follow. And even if I had a  choice, we both know that I would go wherever this man took me.

I feel more than hear the door to the apartment close behind me.

But just as suddenly as he grabbed me and pulled me in, Mason lets me go and turns toward me.

I notice the skyline visible through his open window. The skyscrapers of  New York City glitter in the evening. It would be a breathtaking view,  if I could even compose my thoughts at the moment.

I mean, my Mom walking out of Mason's apartment.

Adjusting her clothes.

There's only one reason that she could have been here. Only one thing she could have been doing.

"Becca," Mason says to me, looking at me. As much as he acts the  completely dominant alpha-male around me, I see in his eyes true concern  for what's going on in my head. He takes a step closer to me. "Listen  to me before you jump to any conclusions."

"There's no conclusions to jump to, Mason," I tell him, surprising  myself with how calm and cool I sound. "I think I have a pretty fair  idea what you two were up to."

Mason sighs. "We didn't fuck, if that's what you mean."

Maybe he sees me wince as he says the word fuck. I'm imagining my mother  claiming him. My Mason being conquered by Mom. Taken away from me.

Maybe because I start trembling.

"Hey," Mason says and I'm about to respond but the fact that I'm about  to lose this man to someone as vile and deceitful and conniving as my  mother is enough to make my knees tremble.

The next thing I know, Mason has his arms wrapped around me and he's holding me from falling.

My knees have given way and had Mason not held me, I would have crumpled to the floor.

But holding me up is seriously about as much effort on Mason's part as maybe opening a door.

With ease and almost no exertion, he picks me up and starts walking to his bedroom.

"What's the matter with you today, babe?" he asks, his eyes finding mine as he walks into the bedroom.

I shake my head.

I mean, you're probably even rolling your eyes at me right now, aren't  you. You're used to getting to know strong, confident, sexually mature  women whenever you sit down with Alexis.

Why am I acting like this? I mean, you remember when I first met Mason?  That was me. I was strong. Confident. An independent and sexual woman  who wasn't afraid to go after what I wanted.

But now, it seems that I've turned into this 21-year-old hapless little damsel in distress, doesn't it?

If you only knew what I went through that brings these memories back. If you only knew the things--

"Babe," Mason says as he puts me on his bed, taking off his shoes and  getting in next to me. "Tell me what the fuck is going on. Is this  because of Lorna?"

I mean, it is and it isn't.

"There's nothing going on with me and her," he says through clenched  teeth. "I know it looks bad, considering the fact that she is legally  married to me."

I close my eyes, trying to will the thought away. The fact that Mom is  married to him makes it feel like daggers being thrown at my face.