Crash (A Billionaire Contract Romance)

Lunch At Dixie

“Hi again. You think you can point me in the right direction for Mason.” I find myself once again standing in front of the receptionists’ desk in the bottom lobby of Dixie.

After yesterday, and knowing we have dinner tonight for the first time as a “Couple” I knew I need to take my lunch at Mason’s office. His building is not far from the restaurant so I made him some peach mousse and I grabbed us some food from the same sandwich shop I told Tara about.

I just need to get up there to see him.

“Ms. Crawford! Of course, head to the elevator and press 22! Make a left, you’ll see his secretary when you get up there.” Her tone and face are light and accommodating this time. I assume she’s seen the announcement.

I’m pretty sure everyone in the company did. That isn’t the point anyway.

I follow her directions while brushing my clothes off as I remind myself that this is what he wants. A fiancé and as such it’s totally normal to bring lunch or check-in. Make appearances.

Each step closer has me questioning myself more. Brian didn’t want me leaving the house, let alone showing up at work, or really showing up anywhere unexpected. There would have been serious consequences.

Mason isn’t Brian.

Approaching a large wooden desk sitting in a glass office marked COO Mason Maverick, with a solid cream wall behind it, a door to the side. There’s an older lady, maybe in her late fifties, her hair pinned back tight, her clothes immaculate, her face firm, but not unfriendly. She looks up with sharp eyes, recognition, and curiosity shining through. “Hi, I’m Aria, I was wondering if Mason is available?”

“Mrs. Crawford, nice to meet you. He’s in his office I imagine you could just let yourself in. I’ll go get myself some lunch.” She gets up, leaving her office and me behind.

Taking a steadying breath I shove his door open. He doesn’t look up from his desk, surrounded by windows, showing an amazing view of the city. His office is big, really big, there’s a door in the back corner and another one in the middle of the sidewall. He has a couch, table, and chairs taking up a good portion of this back wall, a bar off to the side. “Knock and come back.” His nose is still in the papers, he has no idea who he’s talking to but is demanding respect nonetheless.

“Sorry, hands full.” When he hears my voice his head shoots up, his chair rolls back, standing he looks me up and down.

“Crash? What are you doing here?”

“I brought you lunch. I figured we need to talk.”

“You brought me lunch?” He meets me on the other side of his desk, taking the bag and containers out of my hands.

“Yes, I’m starving. We won’t have time to talk before dinner so, lunch.” He leads me over to the couch and table, setting the bag down in the center and walking towards the bar. I grab the food sorting it out.

“You want a drink?” He’s already pouring himself one.

“No, thank you. I have to go back to work. You’re at work, you think that’s appropriate?” I say nodding towards his crystal glass.

“It’s more than appropriate it’s how I get business done. What did you get me?”

“I didn’t know what you liked so I got you a chicken club? No way to go wrong there right?” I say handing him the Styrofoam container.

“Perfect, thank you.” He sits next to me on the couch, something I wasn’t expecting. The electric current that forms whenever were near each other is pulsing strong and powerful between us. It’s almost reassuring, exciting. The last few days don’t seem too bad when I’m riding the high he creates inside me.

We make comfortable small talk for a few minutes while we eat. He asks about my day, I ask about his. He makes sure I’m ready for tonight, I reassure him I am, which is mostly not a lie. I’m ready clothes-wise, not emotionally.

“That was great! Where was it from?” He’s leaning back holding his glass in one hand, his other arm around the back of my shoulders on the couch. Giving him the name, I lean forward to pull out the container of Peach mousse Trifle I made for him, setting it on his lap.

“Is this what I think it is?” His face lights up, literally lights up, as happy as Jude when I gave him the Chocolate Zucchini bread. My heart warms, seeing him smiling so big, so innocent, and child-like. This right here is what I love about baking. I love seeing people’s reactions to my cooking, how much joy it brings them.

I’m not prepared for how vastly I love seeing Mason’s childlike reaction. Something shifts within the brittle shards of my warming heart.

“Take a look and see,” I chuckle. He opens the lid with a smile that grows bigger when his suspicions are proven correct.

He groans while rubbing his stomach. “You’re going to force me into doubling my time at the gym.” Now I’m groaning, my mind lost to lust and wonder. Mason at the gym, shirtless, full rigid muscles on display. Dripping with sweat and masculinity…

It’s a great picture, and I'm totally f****d.

I want to jump him and beg him for another blissful orgasm.

He might have to double his gym time but I’m going to need to double my pantie collection.

“Mason, we need to straighten out our stories. Everyone’s asking me and I don’t have any actual details. How did you purpose, when? When did we start dating? How did we know we were it for each other? What’s your favorite color? All these things we need to know about each other to ever make this sham believable.” My anxiety from the past few days and my embarrassing need force the words out in a rush to distract myself and hopefully find some comforting answers.

“Sweetheart, breathe. We got this.” He sets his dessert on the table before crouching in front of me. He doesn’t miss my cringe of embarrassment at losing my control.

This whole situation requires my full, unbreakable control.

Dipping my head to my chin I shut my eyes, collecting myself. “I know, that’s why I’m here. People have been at my throat, wondering how I tricked you into marrying me. Asking tons of questions, just waiting for me to trip up. I feel like I’m some kind of freak specimen they can’t quite get a read on.” Scooting over I get away from Mason and the couch, pacing his office as I continue.

“Thinking about tonight has me wondering if we’re both f*****g insane for thinking we could or even should be doing this! They’re going to be asking us so many questions and were pretty much strangers!”

“Aria.” He doesn’t need to say stop and turn or look at me. I can hear the demand in the tone of his voice. It’s wild that I listen or that my name alone has my heart slowing.

The sunlight from his big office window makes him glow, like the Greek God he could descend from. He stands in front of me, his hands lightly resting on my shoulders, holding me still. “Who’s been badgering you?”

“Mason! You posted a huge ad in the paper everyone in Boston saw it. Tara asked, other people at work, Lauren!”

“Lauren?”

“Yeah! Thank you for that! Don’t worry I handled it, she’s your problem now, the point being we need to have our story ironed out.”

Rubbing his hand down his face he looks regretfully at me. “I’m sorry about Lauren I should have seen that coming. Are you okay?”

“No! You should check us both into a mental institution for thinking this is sane!” Throwing my arms into the air I look at him growing angry that he’s just so calm and collected.

He approaches me slowly, giving me a moment to pull away, instead I lean into his hold. Looking up I sigh, still so conflicted. “Sweetheart we’re not strangers.” He drags his finger across my lip, “I know you’re sweeter than you taste and you taste like a f*****g pixie stick.”

I shiver as anxiety quickly turns to need. His hand runs down my neck to the curve of my back while he kisses my lips before continuing down my neck. His words mumbled against my heated skin as I tremble in his arms.

“I know you’re accident-prone. I know you’re never more yourself than when you’re in your kitchen. I know the exact shade of pink you turn when you c*m for me.”

“Mason,” it’s a laugh and a sigh. I tap his chest while tugging him closer, twisting my neck so he can suck and kiss some more. My back arching farther into him seeking and wanting things I can’t have.

“I know you’re running from something and think you’re broken but when I look at you I see a strong, willful, gorgeous woman.” Of course, he had to pull away so he could look at me, so I could see his truth float on the surface of his icy eyes, and he could see the storm in mine.

“We’re not strangers Crash. Not us.” Using his shoulders, I pull myself up, kissing him because I want to even if I shouldn’t. We’re a mess of lips and tongues, our moans mixing in perfect harmony as our passion fills us both.

When we finally pull away, panting and lighter we sit back down. Sharing his desert while we go over some information about one another we both think we should know for tonight. And when I leave headed back for work I can’t wipe the smile away or the nagging feeling that Mason is different.

I was wrong about Brian I can’t deny that. But I never felt for Brian what I do for Mason.