Chapter 8 The Devil Wears Boxers
The sound of his footsteps was muffled by the carpet as Mason paced up and down the living room. He paused his steps and undid the top button of his shirt in annoyance.
She wasn't coming.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Unbelievable. The girl actually chose that old man over him. How much was the other guy paying her anyway? He was sure he could have doubled it. Tripled it even. Goddamn it, he could pay her for the whole week if he had to. Anything to finally get her into his bed and out of his system. Then he could finally stop thinking of her.
Perhaps he was going about this all wrong. He hadn't had a good shag in a few weeks, after all. Maybe he didn't need her at all. Any woman should do.
He rested his hand on his hips and turned to loo
