“Okay.”What kind of reading is this?
He strokes over the line of my jaw. “I want to rush in and tell you everything I want you to know, but I’m not going to do that. This exercise—I’m doing it for a very specific reason and have only your best interest at heart. Can you understand that?”
When he talks like this, it makes me a little melty. I breathe out his name in a sigh. “Yes, Mason.”
He leans close, brushes his mouth over mine. “Try to trust me and the process.”
“I do. I love you.” I want his lips to press more firmly to mine, but he doesn’t deepen the kiss.
“I love you too.“ He pulls away, stands, and slides his keys from his pocket.
I jerk out of my haze, unexpected panic flitting through me. “Where are you going?” We agreed to try, he can’t leave.
He looks down at me. “You and I won’t be seeing each other for the next two weeks.”
“But why?” My words are a cry.
“You need time to yourself to process without me distracting you.”
“But I don’t want to be apart for two weeks!”
“Neither do I, but this is what I think is best.” Another soft smile. “And what I say goes.”
I have the most damnable desire to stomp my feet and…pout, of all things, but I retain my composure. I begin to speak, to appeal to him calmly and rationally.
But he gets there first, holding up a hand to stop me. “If after all you’ve read and processed you still want to continue our relationship, come to my house on Saturday, the fourteenth, at seven o’clock. We’ll talk about everything, I promise.”
“But—”
He cuts me off with a stern frown. “This is not a negotiation.”
I don’t get what this has to do with sex, but he seems pretty set on his ideas and is clearly not open to discussion. I don’t think this is remotely fair, but I shut my mouth.
“Good girl.”
Those two little words cut off the speech I’d been mentally formulating and set off a strange quivering low in my belly.How peculiar.
“If you decide not to come, I will understand and wish you well.” His keys jangle, the sound loud in the quiet room. “If you do come, I will give you a demonstration of what you’ve read. By the end of the night, you should have a pretty good idea whether you want to continue or say goodbye.”
The determined set of his jaw tells me arguing is futile. I choose to accept my fate. “Yes, Mason.”
A sly, mischievous gleam I’ve never seen lights his gaze. He crooks a finger under my chin. “And Anna?”
“Yes?” I’m distracted by his mouth. I want it again, kissing me as he has before. That’s what I need to focus on: the payoff.
His lips quirk. “If you show, don’t be late, because if you are, you will most certainly be paying.”
What on Earth does that mean?
He brushes a quick kiss across my lips…and is gone.
3
Anna
What in God’s name am I doing?
I twist my sweaty hands, my stomach a mess of nerves as I stare at Mason’s front door. I’ve always loved his house, the arched entry, distressed espresso wood, and black wrought-iron accents.