His Pawn (The Manhattan Tales Book 1) Read online

  “Okay. Thanks. Please tell him that his coffee is getting cold.” I said casually, half-joking, but Ms. Blue eyes didn’t find me very amusing.

  “He will see you when he is ready.” She repeated herself as though she’d been programmed to speak in repetitive cycles. “Please have a seat.”

  I shrugged off the rude behavior. This is New York after all. I’ve seen and dealt with worse. I sat in one of the oversized leather arm chairs that lined the waiting room and waited. And waited. At one point I unscrewed the cap of Mason’s coffee mug to test the heat of the beverage. Wow. It was still hot. I guess it pays to have an overpriced travel mug.

  “Ms. Pryor?” A middle-aged woman with graying hair approached me. I looked up just as I finished screwing the cap back onto the mug. She smiled kindly down at me from where she stood.

  “Mr. Woodward is ready for you. He apologizes for the wait,” she said as I stood.

  “Oh, he can tell me that himself,” I teased as she led me toward a set of large mahogany doors.

  “I wouldn’t tell him that.” she warned, and then presented the office doors for me.

  He’s in a mood today, I could see it written all over her wrinkled face, although she wouldn’t say so much verbally.

  “Pfft.” I laughed lightly and she gave me a very worried look as I pushed through the doors and entered his office.

  The doors closed quietly behind me, and I suddenly felt the thick tension in the air as soon as I entered his expansive office.

  His office held the most beautiful view of central park I’d ever seen, but it was otherwise very sterile in appearance and comfort. There were a few paintings which I was not familiar with, but that was pretty much the extent of it.

  I only took a few seconds to survey my surroundings before my eyes landed on Mason. He sat at his desk, staring angrily down at the office phone situated before him. He was gritting his teeth so tensely, I could see the knot in his jaw from where I stood. Ok, so he must be having a bad day… Still, he looks sexy as hell. I felt an unfamiliar need to comfort him and make him feel better, but I was out of my depth with that.

  “Hi.” I spoke softly as I approached him. My red heels clacked on the perfect marble as I approached his desk. He looked up as I pulled him from his thoughts. I could see his face soften somewhat when I presented him with the stainless steel mug of still-hot coffee.

  “Having a bad day?” I asked with sympathy as he took the mug.

  “I just had a delightful conversation with my father.”

  His face still appeared calloused, and the knot was still in his jaw. Then suddenly, he looked up and really saw me.

  The way he looked at me shouldn’t have made me feel insecure, but I was not used to any man looking at me the way he did just then. I watched his hand flex before his fingers gripped the armrest of his desk chair. His gaze locked with my own, silently demanding my attention. During his absence, I’d forgotten how his presence could be so… overwhelming. I looked away and lightly cleared my throat. I tried to suppress all of my old feelings that I’d had for him during my senior year of high school. Yes, I had been the teenage girl who had a crush on her big brother’s best friend… and I was failing miserably at suppressing those feelings.

  “I brought you coffee.” I said stupidly, fixating blindly on the view of Manhattan that faced me. The energy between us was more than I could handle.

  “I see that.” he answered with a clipped tone. It told me that he had no interest in the coffee and he had no interest in discussing such a mundane topic. I felt his intense gaze still on me.

  “I’d much rather discuss your plans for the future.” he spoke to me like the big boss, and I was no more than an office aid.

  “Oh, well I have two interviews lined up for next week.” I answered. The confidence I felt earlier had diminished to nonexistent.

  “Doing what?” He asked with that same clipped tone. His gaze bore into me.

  “An office assistant. It’s full time. I’d have to take a break from school to pay rent, but I applied for scholarships...” My voice trailed. My face felt aflame.

  His lip quirked into a slight snarl, and there was a pause of silence as he stood, rounded his desk, and perched on the edge of it just in front of me. Again, my face was level with his groin, and I looked away momentarily before my gaze met his.

  “You’ll do no such thing.” his command was assertive.

  I stared up at him with a deadpan expression, and that only seemed to set fire to his eyes more. “Some of us have to work our way through college, Mason. I can’t get approved for private loans and my family isn’t able to cosign for me. I didn’t make enough last year and my GPA isn’t-”

  “You got kicked from financial aid and now you’re squirming.” He smirked. “You’re not sure if you should quit your college career just before your last semester…” Somehow he reminded me of the cat who cornered the mouse. I swallowed hard.

  “What is your major?” He asked, just before he finally took a sip from his coffee mug.

  “Social Work, with a minor in economics.” I answered, wondering where the hell all of this was going, and why it was so important.

  In response, he nearly spit his coffee out.

  “Social Work?” He asked incredulously. “Why the fuck would you choose a field like that? There is no money to be had, carting around America’s welfare-”

  Is he serious? Anger flared up in my chest as I thought of my dearest friend who grew up in the foster care system.

  “You’re such an arrogant asshole! Not everyone is dealt the same hand you were given. Some of us have a really rough time no matter how hard we work!” My fists were balled so tightly I could feel how white my knuckles had become.

  No matter my fury, though, I was only met with a cool gaze from him. It was a mask and I could no longer read his emotions. For a split second, I thought I saw the faint trace of a smirk on his lips.

  “Forgive me.” he responded smoothly, but I could not gauge the level of sincerity, if there was any. “I was sounding like my father. You know I was very proud of you when you were accepted into NYU.” Yes, I remember how much you used to care…

  “I want to help people.” I stubbornly responded.

  “I know you do. You’ve always been that bleeding heart type,” He commented with a grin that would probably cause most women to drop their panties for him.

  I admit, it caused me to lose most of my fury. It was enough to make my heart flutter in my chest, especially when a lock of black hair fell out of place and fell to his forehead. I felt my thighs clench as light tingles rushed down south. I wanted to reach out and smooth that lock of hair away from his eyes… as I ran my fingers through his hair… while he pulled me into his lap, firmly holding me in place, kissing me, running his tongue along my-

  “I have a proposal for you.” he said in a very business-like manner and it forced me to leave my sensual fantasy of him.

  I snapped to attention, meeting the intensity of his stare and my face was flushed bright pink. I just knew it was bright pink. I could feel the warmth that had spread from my cheeks down to my neck, down to the now-moist area between my thighs… He must have noticed that flush because he had an arrogant smirk as he looked down at me. His eyes moved up and down my form momentarily before he locked his gaze with me firmly, demanding my utmost attention.

  “You want me to come work for you?” I joked, trying to lighten the intensity.

  “Not exactly. Although, I suppose it’s a matter of perspective.” There was a smirk on that handsome face as he rounded his desk, unlocked a drawer, and pulled a leather bound folder from its contents.

  His response had me immediately suspicious about what his proposal involved, but before I could ask any questions, he produced a crisp white document and presented it before me. It contained fine print and a line for my signature and date.

  “Before I say another word, you’ll sign this confidentiality agreement. You’ll not say a wo
rd about my lifestyle, my affairs, my words to you, or any business you would consider personal on my account, to anyone.” His dark brow piqued sternly as he explained the agreement.

  Really? I looked up at him drily. My New York sarcasm suddenly flared. I couldn’t resist.

  “Yes, I suppose it is necessary, because if I wanted to say anything, to anyone, I could have done so already... years ago. But, I have this thing called respect, and I haven’t said a word to anyone-”

  “I would watch that sarcastic tone, Ms. Pryor. You might find that you regret using such a tone with me.” He was terse.

  I sighed softly. “Yes, of course I’ll sign it. I had to sign one for the Sloanes when I was hired to be a nanny. Can I get a pen?”

  “You’ll not read it first?” His jaw clenched slightly.

  “No, Mason. I don’t need to read it. Do you recall how many years I could have talked about you, and everything I knew about you, even then? Not to mention the last three days…”

  He didn’t argue me as he handed me the pen and I scribbled my signature and the date. Yes, I was annoyed. This was ridiculous. He was studying my exasperated demeanor, of course.

  “Again, I’ll remind you to watch that tone with me, Ms. Pryor.” He now seemed agitated.

  I simply looked at him, blinking a few times. What the hell was this? Was I some errant employee? He continued speaking, ignoring my expression, while he still clutched the leather folder and replaced the agreement within the folder. He was now perched on the edge of the desk again, facing me directly.

  “I propose that you finish your degree, complete whatever internships are still required by the state of New York, and work towards raising that grade point average. I am certain you aspire to continue on with graduate school?”

  My dark eyes obviously flared as I looked up at him. “Yes, Mason, of course I want to go on to graduate school. I applied for scholarships and jobs but I’m probably going to have to take a break from school to save money-”

  “Out of the question,” he cut me off shortly.

  I sighed. Things must seem so easy when you have all the money in the world to just throw around. I would bet my life on the assumption that he’s never had to take out a college loan in his life.

  “I’ll provide for your needs and lodging. You’ll not work, with the exception of required internships, and attend classes full-time to build up your grades. I’ll pay off your student debt and the upcoming costs of tuition.”

  He said this coolly as he leaned back ever so slightly and assessed my reaction.

  My mouth must have hit the floor because he grinned and lifted his forefinger to my chin, gently forcing my mouth closed.

  “Mason-”

  “I’d appreciate if you refer to me as Mr. Woodward while you’re on company grounds,” he interrupted me sharply.

  I’ve never had to call him by that title. He’s always been Mason. This really caught me by surprise.

  “Right. Mr. Woodward, this is very, very kind and generous of you… but you’ve already done so much for me. I can’t leech off your generosity like this, freely taking from you just because you’re very…” I looked around at my surroundings. “Very successful.”

  Mason’s success was the least of it. He came from very old English money, something he never cared to talk about with most people.

  Mason, er, Mr. Woodward simply chuckled, and I didn’t like the sound of it.

  “Ms. Pryor, I do nothing for free.” He stared down at me with a slight grin as he allowed that to sink in. Again, he looked at me like I was the cornered mouse.

  “What about the charities and nonprofit organizations you sponsor?” I challenged, although my voice wavered somewhat.

  “It’s all PR, Ms. Pryor. Public relations are extremely important when establishing your name in the business world. First impressions and reputation are of utmost importance. Surely I do not have to give you a college lecture. You’ve taken Society and Economic Change, I assume?” Yes, but I assume you’ve never taken Poverty and Inequality.

  I stared up at him, my frustration piquing ten-fold. Right, Mr. Moneybags Mason, I thought to myself. What about the times you helped my family, thinking nobody knew about it? What about those times you rescued me? That was not PR, because nobody else knew about it. What the hell happened to you?

  I wanted to ask him this, and shake him, but I was also seriously considering his proposal. I was very concerned what the stakes entailed, though. I was about to ask him about this, but his personal cell rang. He grabbed it from the inside pocket of his black suit jacket, looked at the screen and gave a disgruntled sigh.

  “Give me a moment,” he said to me sharply before pressing the answer button. “You know I’m working.” he said into the phone.

  I could hear the muffled response of a female on the other end.

  “Piper, why not send me an email outlining why you disagree with my plans?” He held a tone of sarcasm in his voice, which indicated that this was not a business call.

  I could hear her snippy, yet muffled answer on the other end of the phone.

  “Suit yourself. I’m going through with this, I’ll call you later.” He ended the call, returned the cell phone to the inside jacket of his suit, and looked at me with glittering eyes.

  “My apologies. That was my cousin. She’s at times very much like a nagging little sister.”

  The terse tone in his voice was long gone.

  “Now, where were we? Ah yes, I do nothing for free.”

  “Right. You said that already, along with a brief explanation as to how you’re secretly an ass who presents himself as a societal philanthropist.” I gave him a deadpan stare.

  I was trying to mask my own nerves. After a few moments of silence, I had to ask, because he seemed to be waiting for the question.

  “What do you want from me in return?” My nerves showed in my voice. It was slightly shaky.

  I could help him full-time in the office, or clean hotels for free. I could run his errands or help Mrs. O’Malley with her duties around the house. I thought about all my options, all but the one that I pushed deep down into the depths of my mind. I denied that possibility…

  “I want my sexual needs satisfied, Ms. Pryor. I’m a very difficult man to please.” He said bluntly.

  Those words sucked the air from my lungs. I looked up at him with eyes wide and round.

  “Me?” I asked in disbelief, although I think my voice sounded more like a squeak. “Why me?”

  “Because you’re beautiful, and I want to fuck that little body of yours and feel how I can make it writhe with pleasure.”

  His words were smooth, and as though he could feel my heart rate quicken, he leaned forward. The heat from his tall, muscular frame overwhelmed me. I could smell his signature cologne scent. Hot waves of need washed over me again, especially after hearing the filthy words that came out of his mouth. I had no idea that I would be so aroused by such dirty talk. I also felt embarrassed by how bright pink I knew I’d become.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but words would not come out. So many thoughts whirled around in my mind. I wanted him to take me, but I was also afraid. My high school crush on him escalated into pure lust. Well, it wasn’t pure lust. I wanted more time with him. I missed how he was back in the good old days. But this proposal... this caught me by complete shock.

  “You’ll take the spare room in my penthouse and be at my beck and call, as it pleases me, for three months. I’ll pay the entirety of your accrued costs at NYU. It will be in the contract.”

  “Contract?” I blurted, blinking. This can’t be real.

  “I don’t do anything without written documentation, Ms. Pryor. I will pay all the necessary fees, past and future, incurred by your attendance at NYU. In return you give yourself to me for three months. If, for any reason, you decide to deny me your body before the three months are up, you will owe me the entire amount of your college education, in full, immediately.”

  He w
as actually serious. This was all too much. I looked away from him as I continued to process everything he’d just thrown at me. My heart bounced around within my rib cage as though I’d just run a ten mile marathon.

  I sat in that chair, staring at him. Then I began pinching my arm. Mason’s face contorted as he watched me for a moment.

  “What the hell are you doing?” He asked.

  “I’m pinching myself.”

  “I see that. Why?” He was annoyed, and perplexed.

  “I was just wondering for a moment if this was a dream. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that you’d want me in that way.” I stopped pinching my arm and rested my hands in my lap.

  “Oh, indeed I do, Ms. Pryor. You have no idea. I can see by your flushed face and clenched thighs that you desire me all the same. You want to know what it will be like to have me on you, holding you down, deep inside you.” He smirked as though he could sense the liquid heat pooling between my thighs.

  “What do you say to this arrangement?”

  My breath caught, thinking about all those words to me. He was so crude, but it sent a flood of sensual, pleasuring tingles through my body. It felt good…

  I want my sexual needs satisfied, Ms. Pryor. I’m a very difficult man to please.

  His words also haunted my mind as I tried to piece together what I was going to say to him, and how to react to all of this. I could never please a man like him. What happened to him? He is so hardened, and so cold… I squeezed my eyes shut as I tried to block everything out and focus on what I should say.

  “A verbal response would be appreciated, Ms. Pryor,” Mason prompted.

  “It’s Jill,” I finally snapped as I opened my eyes. I locked my gaze with his. “And the answer is NO.”

  His eyes flared. They burned through me.

  “No?” He asked incredulously.

  I may have been the first person to ever say no to him. He was clearly not accustomed to this, and it showed in his blazing gaze and agitated tone.

  “If you want to be with me, then be with me, but I will not have sex with you for your money, or the nice clothes, your company or your properties. I’ll pay you back every penny for the clothes and the fees you pay NYU, after I graduate college. I’ll sign a contract with a payment plan for that. I’d be like a prostitute otherwise.”