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Around noon, a maid came up to my apartment bearing a basketful of clean towels and a large paper bag of groceries. Neither of these things I really even needed, since my fridge was well-stocked and I still had plenty of clean towels in the master bathroom. Not to mention that I could have washed some in the spacious laundry room in my apartment if I’d really needed some fresh ones. Still, I was glad to have a visitor in the maid, and to have someone to feel out in regards to whether or not I was allowed to leave the building. In response to this query, the maid, who was at least a little bit warmer than Sheila, just gave her head a little shake, avoiding my eyes.
“Sorry…but for right now, I think Commander Iverson just wants to make sure you don’t…well, you know. Try to escape or something. I hope you can understand.”
If he only knew, I thought. I actually have no intention of trying to escape now, and for a very titillating reason having to do with his grandsons. In fact, if things between the three of us went as well as I hoped they would, I figured that I might be perfectly content to live at the Towers the entire three months that the commander wanted me to. I knew that that evening, after dinner with Alex and Mason, my mind would probably be made up, one way or another.
CHAPTER SEVEN
That evening, Alex and Mason showed up at my apartment exactly at eight, and this time, Mason knocked on my door, which he did a little less forcefully than Alex had the day before. He actually knocked a lot less forcefully. With a snort on my way to the door, I could just tell it was Mason who’d knocked, and I thought how this less-aggressive manner of knocking clearly illustrated a major personality difference between him and Alex. Mason seemed to have more “people skills,” and Alex seemed even possibly antisocial. At any rate, Mason was the one who knocked “normally,” as I saw it. Alex was the one who seemed determined to announce his presence by nearly breaking down a door.
When I opened the door, which had been unlocked, Mason was closest to it, leaning against the frame, confirming my thinking that he’d been the knocker.
He gave me one of his small, somehow sly-looking smiles, at the same time straightening up from the doorframe and extending a single rose. “This is for you.”
With petals that were such a bright, vivid orange they were almost neon, the rose was unlike any I’d ever seen before. It was perfectly unique, gorgeous, and exquisite. It was also special because orange was my favorite color, which I wondered if Mason had inferred from the orange sweatshirt and matching orange tiny button earrings I’d been wearing the day before.
Committed to enjoying the night to the fullest without falling back into resentment of what had happened the day before, I took the rose from Mason, returning his little smile. “Thank you so much. It’s so beautiful.”
“Then it’s exactly like you. Although flawless might better describe you than beautiful.”
I thought I heard Alex, who was standing just a little ways behind and to the side of Mason, make some soft sound resembling a groan, like maybe a groan of disgust or derision directed at Mason.
However, before I could wonder about this for too long, he gestured to a cart filled with covered dishes near him. “May we come in already? We just got this food from the ground-floor kitchen, and it’s piping hot…and I imagine you want to eat before it gets cold.”
For some reason, his stern, businesslike demeanor, and his semi-interruption of Mason complimenting me, just rankled me for some reason. Wishing that he’d lighten up a little, I stepped aside, gesturing to the interior of the apartment.
“Please come in, both of you, so we can get right to dinner. If you want this evening to be all business, Alex, then that’s the way it will be.”
Alex snorted.
Mason stepped inside, pausing beside me and speaking in a stage whisper. “Hey, you’ve got him pegged right that he likes to be all business sometimes. Whereas me, I’m a lot more fun. I’m nicer, too. So, you should probably stick closer to me tonight. Especially since Alex has been known to breathe dragon fire occasionally. And I do mean that metaphorically; however, we are were-dragons, so...I guess literally as well.”
Surprising myself, I laughed at the corny joke. Just a brief chuckle, just for a second or two, but this was just long enough to make me think that I was going to have an amazing night, no matter what, even if I ended up having to kick out Alex in order to have some quality time with Mason alone. I hoped that I wouldn’t feel compelled to do this, though. I hoped that maybe after a glass or two of wine, Alex would unwind a bit, and then he, Mason, and I could have some quality time all together.
Grinning from ear-to-ear, obviously pleased that he’d gotten a chuckle out of me, Mason strolled on into the apartment. Alex entered and strode right by me without so much as a glance.
Somewhat to my surprise and chagrin, they both looked even more handsome than they had the day before, which I wouldn’t have thought possible. Although that had been before I’d seen them in dress pants and crisp collared shirts, which they both wore with the top button undone, allowing me tantalizing peeks at their well-muscled chests.
I myself was a little more dressed up than I’d been the day before, wearing a knee-length sheath dress with a neckline that was a bit low-cut, though not outright plunging. I’d decided on this fairly conservative look after trying on two other dresses from my closet, not really sure at all what kind of look I should be going for, considering that this was a first date and I barely knew Alex and Mason at all. The first dress I’d tried on, a plain navy blue one with a below-the-knee hem, had seemed a bit frumpy, while the second, a short hot pink one with a neckline that was definitely plunging, had seemed far too sexy and probably more appropriate for a night out clubbing with the girls than a date, no matter how steamy that date might become.
My footwear was also a bit dressier than what I’d been sporting the day before. Instead of a battered pair of tennis shoes, I was now wearing a pair of black high heels that matched my black-and-red dress. Like the other hot pink dress, the heels had seemed maybe more “club” than “first date,” but I’d eventually decided to wear them anyway, thinking that while over-the-top sexiness might not have been exactly quite right for the occasion, there was probably nothing wrong with a little bit of overt sexiness. Especially considering how I wanted the night to turn out.
While Alex took the cart of covered dishes out to the kitchen, Mason escorted me into the dining room and seated me, then said he’d be right back. “I’ll go get a vase for your rose, and some glasses for our drinks. I’ll be back in just one minute.”
I saw that under one arm, he held two bottles of white wine, and another bottle of some amber liquid, maybe whiskey. I wondered just exactly how drunk he and Alex were planning on getting me, not that I was going to allow that to happen. I’d have a glass or two of wine, maybe even two-and-a-quarter over the course of dinner. However, that was all I’d have, knowing that I had a tendency to become very emotional while drinking, and I was determined to remain more or less “on guard” at all times that evening when it came to my emotions. With two extremely handsome men like Alex and Mason, something just told me that it might be all too easy to fall “off-guard” emotionally that evening, even without alcohol.
Alone in the dining room, I allowed myself to relax a little, noticing little details about the room that I hadn’t before, because I’d only taken a peek in the room but hadn’t eaten in it before. Since the spacious dining room had seemed a bit too formal for just a meal for one, I’d eaten breakfast and lunch that day at an island in the kitchen.
Above a long, polished oak table in the dining room, a glittering crystal chandelier hung suspended by a gilded fixture, and a few tall floor lamps in the room appeared to be polished brass. Two large oil paintings that flanked a single enormous, wide window on the west wall added to the room’s air of casual-yet-elegant sophistication. Making for an interesting juxtaposition, one of the paintings was a nature scene with lots of greens and blues, and the other was a nightt
ime cityscape, New Detroit itself by the looks of it.
Alex and Mason both soon returned from the kitchen, Alex with the bottles of whiskey and wine and a few glasses, and Mason with my stunning, unusual rose in a clear glass vase. Seemingly determined that this evening would have all the trappings of romance, he also held two brass candle holders with tall, burgundy-colored taper candles, already lit.
Along with the vase, he set the glowing candles in the middle of one of the far ends of the table, near where I sat at the left of the head of the table. Suddenly very curious, I wondered who’d sit across from me and who’d sit at the head, in the position of most authority and power.
Mason quickly answered this question, sliding into the chair at the head of the table quickly, just as Alex was finishing setting out the glasses and the bottles. This made me think that they hadn’t previously worked out who’d sit at the head of the table, because Mason had almost seemed to have kind of cut Alex off, as Alex had seemed to be moving in the direction of the head of the table himself. However, if Alex was angry, he didn't show it; instead, he just simply took a seat across from me and began pouring drinks with his typically stern expression unreadable, which was also typical for him. Unlike Mason, he was clearly the type to keep all emotions and thoughts close to the vest, which was really beginning to trouble me. If he couldn’t seem to unwind around me at least a little, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever want to invite him into my bed, even if that meant giving up on my fantasy of sharing my bed with him and Mason at the same time.
After handing me a glass of wine, Alex handed one to Mason as well, then poured a glass of whiskey for himself.
With his beautiful pale blue eyes twinkling, Mason looked from him to me. “See, I always like to enjoy a nice glass of wine when I'm in the company of a gorgeous young woman who’s drinking the same thing. Looks to me like Alex has decided to stick with his usual whiskey, though, which he always drinks neat, with no ice and no water. If you’re wondering why that is, all I can guess is that you have to do something to assert your toughness and masculinity when you’re not fast enough to get to the head of the table first.”
For the second time that evening, I laughed, beginning to genuinely like Mason, and not just on a physical level. Instead, I was beginning to think that he might possibly be “relationship material” and not just “fun in the bedroom” material.
In response to what Mason had said, Alex just snorted and knocked back his whiskey in a single gulp before setting the glass on the table with a thunk that bordered on a bang. “Let’s all just see if we can enjoy our respective drinks without being petty before we move on to dinner.”
he was so to the point, just like I’d come to expect Alex to be. Granted, Mason had been kind of rude to him, and I was starting to get the distinct impression that they maybe weren’t the closest pair of brothers in the world. Still, though, I was becoming increasingly irritated by Alex and his constant seriousness.
Lifting my wine glass, I gave him a polite nod in response to what he’d said. “All right. If you want to be all serious about our pre-dinner drinks, I guess that’s just fine with me. We can even sip our drinks in complete silence if that’s what you want.”
I wanted Alex to possibly apologize, or maybe even crack a little smile and say that we didn’t have to go as far as sip our drinks in complete silence. I wanted him to just show me a little trace of personality, at any rate.
However, before he could respond at all, Mason told me to forget being “serious” about pre-dinner drinks. “We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves tonight, and getting to know each other a little better…so you should feel free to let loose, Kira. Talk about whatever you want, and I will, too. We can even talk about what might happen after dinner, if you’d like. After all, sometimes the planning and build-up is part of the fun.”
Smiling a little, I took a long drink of my wine, sure that I was going to enjoy the “planning and build-up” with Mason very much indeed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
While Mason made different slightly-dirty allusions to things that two or three people could do in bed together, I began sipping my wine quickly in an effort to cool my quickly-warming face. Then, once I’d finished my wine, I got to laughing at different things that Mason was joking about. However, unlike the previous couple of times he’d made me laugh, I laughed longer than just a few seconds, because for some reason, it was just starting to feel really good to just let loose after the shock and tension of the day before. It almost felt soothing or hypnotizing in a strange way.
Once my laughter had subsided, I looked at Alex while Mason refilled my wine glass. “Well, what about you? Don’t you know any jokes about threesome situations?”
I just wanted him to speak, to join the conversation in any way.
With his stern expression not changing in the least, Alex took a sip of his whiskey before responding. “Sorry. I might have known a few sexual jokes around age twelve, but since becoming a grown man, I’ve tried to forget them all. See, some of us grown men like to live our lives with a bit of maturity and dignity.”
Immediately sober, at least as far as my laughter was concerned, I fought irritation at Alex’s serious, somber answer to my question, while at the same time, I was actually a bit pleased that he’d spoken more than a few words. Wanting to encourage him to keep talking so that he would maybe loosen up a little, I asked him if he was absolutely positive that he didn’t remember any sexual jokes. I said this kind of smiling a bit, trying to be flirty in an attempt to finally break down his wall.
However, his response was brief and to-the-point. “Yes. I’m sure that I don’t remember any sexual jokes.”
Mason snorted. “Sorry, Kira. See, Alex is only a year-and-a-half older than me, but in some ways, he’s already an old man, if you get what I mean. In fact, if we had a lawn here at the Towers, he’s the type that would constantly be yelling at kids to stay off it.”
I knew that some brothers joked with each other, even getting pretty rude sometimes; however, I was beginning to pick up on some real possible malice between Alex and Mason. At any rate, it was clear that they had some sort of rivalry, and I wondered if their relationship had always been this way, or if knowing that one of them would soon be chosen as their grandfather’s successor had stirred up some new and sudden resentment.
Deciding that I might try to investigate all this later, I soon went back to drinking my wine and laughing with Mason, beginning to really feel the effects of the wine and really liking them.
It wasn’t long before I realized that I’d somehow finished my third glass of wine without really even being aware that that’s what I was doing. Wanting to stay “on guard” emotionally, I certainly hadn’t meant to drink so much or so fast.
My head was really beginning to swim, although in a very pleasant sort of way, a way that was drawing my focus to Alex and Mason’s handsome, strong-jawed faces, their broad shoulders, and their hard, well-muscled chests. Suddenly, I almost couldn’t stop thinking about how I wanted to touch their hard, well-muscled chests, maybe while one of them kissed me.
Maybe Mason could tell that I’d become pretty intoxicated. Or maybe he just couldn’t wait any longer to kiss me. At any rate, the next time he made me laugh about something, he then swiftly pulled me out of my chair and onto his lap while I was still laughing. Surprised but not displeased, I didn’t resist. I again didn’t resist when he then lowered his mouth to mine and began kissing me. In fact, I sighed, running a hand across the chiseled planes of his chest, just like I’d been wanting to do. I didn’t even care that Alex was just sitting right next to us, just watching the whole scene. In fact, this was actually more than a bit thrilling to me, no big surprise since one of the biggest turn-ons of my threesome fantasy was spending a while having one man simply “watching the proceedings” while the other brought me pleasure.
It wasn’t long before I felt my nipples begin to stiffen in response to a few caresses from Mason over my thin dress
while he continued kissing me, playfully nipping at my lips every so often. Beneath my leg, I could feel that I wasn’t the only one quickly becoming aroused. I could feel that Mason was large like Alex, and from what I could tell, it felt like he was already rock-hard. Because of this, my sighs quickly turned to moans, and when Mason slid a hand beneath my dress and bra and began toying with one of my hardened nipples, I broke our kiss involuntarily, moaning the loudest I had yet.
“Please, Mason. Keep doing that. Just please don’t stop.”
He didn’t, and he spoke in a husky voice near my ear while he continued his heavenly-feeling caresses. “Why don’t I carry you into your bedroom now and start on those other kisses I promised you yesterday? I’ll start those kisses from your delicate, pretty little hand and wrist, all the way up to your gorgeous, pouty lips. Then, I’ll trail the kisses downward and eventually visit a certain little spot…a very sensitive little spot…and I promise that I’ll give that sensitive little spot all the slow and careful attention it deserves.”
Nearly dizzy with desire, I exhaled a fluttery little breath, unable to resist teasing him a little. “Oh, yeah? Are you sure you even know where a woman’s ‘sensitive little spot’ is?”
Wearing a sexy half-grin, Mason nibbled one of my ears briefly before responding. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I do. Here’s the thing, though. It seems that every woman likes her sensitive little spot to be ‘kissed’ and touched differently, so that’s where I think you might have to guide me a bit. Do you think you can do that, Kira?”
After exhaling another fluttery little breath, I said I was pretty sure. “Although, for some reason, I just don’t think you’re going to need a whole lot of guiding.”
For some reason, regardless of individual preferences with how different women liked to be touched, I could just tell that Mason would likely have the “magic touch” when it came to me personally.