The brunette sat down beside me.
“Where did you learn to cook, Mason?” she asked softly. “This is real good,” was her compliment, eyes closing as she bit into a steaming piece of pie.
I watched for a moment, entranced. Fuck, the girl was beautiful the way she reveled in food. But right. Cooking. Pizza.
“Kind of just learned as I went along. I obviously couldn’t eat the shit in the cafeteria so there wasn’t much choice.” I pointed to a small, rickety-looking bookcase. “There are some recipe books in there, but they’re pretty useless if you want to make anything decent.”
She nodded. “Yeah, cookbooks have never really helped me either. I just like to experiment, put ingredients together, and see what happens. It helps that I don’t have to cook for anyone because sometimes my dishes turn out pretty bad,” she said wryly.
I laughed. “You and me both.” I was surprised by how comfortable we were both getting with each other. It was almost as if we’d known each other our entire lives instead of three short weeks. “So if you become someone’s favorite author, then what?” I asked, keeping the conversation light.
She nibbled thoughtfully on a slice of pizza.
“Well, I want to be an author, but I always wanted to have a family as well. I guess you could say that’s another one of my big life goals,” she confessed shyly. “But when I do, I want the works. You know, with a nice house, loving husband, and the white picket fence so the dog can run around with the kids.” Her cheeks had turned bright red once more. “I know this must seem so small-town to you since you’re a billionaire from NYC with a business empire.”
Suddenly, the girl choked, eyes flushing red.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking away. “I mean ….”
But no worries. I liked that she knew. I liked that she’d googled my name, trying to figure out everything.
“No worries, sweetheart,” I drawled, taking another big bite of pizza. “I’m used to it. Most people here know who I am and where I’m from as well,” was my amused drawl. “They say it’s the scent of money. It followed me even to jail.”
She gulped again, eyes wide.
“I just mean,” she began, taking a deep breath. “I just meant that I’m sorry. It wasn’t right of me to go snooping around. I was just curious, you know. You were so different from all the other inmates because even here,” she said gesturing to our surroundings, “you act as if you own the whole world. I had to know who you really are.”
I leaned forwards then, lips trailing along the side of her neck, leaving a faint trail of kisses.
“And now that you do, what do you think?”
“I –,” was her breathy murmur.
When Laney didn’t answer, I bit the side of her neck, leaving a mark. I wanted to make sure that when she left this place, everyone would know what had happened.
A soft moan escaped her lips. “Oh Mason…”
Shit.
If she kept it up, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself and the pizza would go to waste.
Eventually, however, I pulled away, taking her hands in mine. Holy fuck, this was insane. I never talk to women I sleep with. It’s just the way things are, I don’t like mixing sex with conversation. So this was incredible, the way I was letting loose with flying lips, listening to her while giving advice.
“Sweetheart, I’ll be honest with you. You’re amazing, with the way you think. Volunteering here, wanting a career and a family. It’s all good how you’ve balanced it. But,” my voice lowered, “in order to have kids, you can’t be a virgin.”
“What?” she stammered, cheeks flushing again, eyes curiously bright. “Wh-what? Oh, I know.”
I chuckled deep in my throat.
“Sweetheart, I licked your hymen last time we were together. Yeah, I snaked my tongue up into that sweet pussy and tasted where no man’s ever been. But let me change that. Let me show you what you’re missing, sweetheart. I promise you’ll love it.”
Oh fuck. What was I doing, even asking? The old Mason would have had her on the floor in a sec, bumping and grinding like a horny dog. But this was the new me. This woman brought out something inside that wanted to caress and cherish, in addition to making her feel good.
Laney paused for a moment, eyes wide, trembling with both anticipation and nerves.
“But Mr. Evercore,” she began on a whisper. “Wh-what about the newspaper? What about the article we’re supposed to write together?”
Please, sweetheart. That’s the least of my worries. We’ll bust out a five thousand word feature in no time. Just let me taste your pussy first, let me make those sweet folds pulse and clench like they never have before.
And with that, I pulled the innocent brunette into the kitchen cabinet. It was a tiny, dark space, damp and a little musty smelling, but at least there was a lock. Oh fuck yeah, the pantry’s got a deadbolt and I threw it in place with a resounding thunk.