Esmé:Return of the Mafia Heir

6

*Mason’s POV*

I don’t understand what that woman did to me. I have never been one to only be with one woman. I had not had a girlfriend since my senior year in high school when the ‘love of my life,’ or so I thought, left me for a college guy. That day I decided that I was not going to date and that I was going to enjoy my life with all the women I could have. But this one, she came in bulldozing into my life as if she owned the place.

Today I know I fūcked up. If she didn’t want to work with me, now it was for sure that she would send her to watchdog. Once she left my office, I released the breath I didn’t know I was holding. I don’t know what came over me. My brain told me one thing, but my body decided on something else. My lips itched to kiss her right then and there, but I held it together. I let her go and turned around before I kissed her.

I got up from my desk and walked to the door to leave for the night. I turned off the lights and then headed down to my car. My palms were itching, wanting to find out where she was. Whom she was talking to. I threw my phone in the passengers seat and drove myself to my house.

I quickly changed into my gym clothes and then headed to the gym. I left my phone out of sight. I didn’t want to check on her. I couldn’t. I worked out as hard as I had been since I met her. Once I finished, I walked back inside the house and went straight to the shower. Once I have completed my shower, I got dressed only in my basketball shorts. I heard a noise coming from my kitchen, so I slowly made my way to my nightstand, where I kept my Glock. I grabbed it, already having it loaded, so I didn’t have to make noise. I walked slowly to my kitchen. I raised my gun and then pointed it at the intruder. I was about to pull the trigger when my sister turned around abruptly.

“What the fūck are you doing here, Mandy?” I asked her as I lowered the gun and placed it on the kitchen counter.

My sister Mandy is two years younger than me. She was the family’s rebel, the things that I would think, she actually did. My parents wanted her to become a doctor. She became an attorney and got a minor in business management. My parents wanted her to marry the rich boy from the golf club, and at their wedding, she left him hanging. She was my role model, but don’t ever tell her because I would deny it until my last dying breath.

“I just flew in. You know I won’t be going to stay with mom, and you have plenty of room.” She replied, opening the cupboard and searching for something.

“Why didn’t you call first? I could’ve shot you. I could have been having sēx on this kitchen counter.” I told her, making her fake gag.

“I did call you! You didn’t answer, and by the looks of it, you haven’t had sēx in quite a while. How long has it been?” She asked, making me squint my eyes at her.

I didn’t answer her question, but I went in search of my phone. I grabbed it from the table by the door. I had a ton of notifications. I had her missed calls, twenty to be exact, plus a text calling me an a**hole. A text from Stephanie about the cancellation of a meeting I had tomorrow and what I had been trying to avoid all night. Notifications from Esmé’s and her watchdog’s phone.

I walked back to my kitchen with my sister in search of something. “What the hell are you looking for in my kitchen?” I asked as I looked back at my phone.

“I am looking for the wine!” She yelled.

“I don’t have any.” I replied to her, making her grunt in annoyance.

“Why? Why don’t you have whine here?” She asked, placing her head in her hands and elbows on my kitchen counter.

“Okay, what did he do?” I asked her. She never comes to visit me willingly. Either her boss, whom she was totally in love with, did something, or our mom did something to piss her off.

She raised her head, squinting her eyes at me. “He is getting married to a bimbo!” She replied with tears rolling down her face. I shook my head. I didn’t understand why she never told him anything, yet she was upset because he would get married.

“Mandy, what the hell did you expect? You have been in love with the man for years. Yet never told him.” I told her, rolling my eyes at her.

“Shut up! I’m going to sleep for like ten hours.” She replied, walking out of the kitchen and into the guest room. I shook my head and then went back to the notifications. I saw that Esmé had contacted someone in Italy. I wrote the number down to check on it tomorrow. Her watchdog’s notifications were nothing out of the ordinary, so I ignored them all. Until she texted him, ‘Pack a bag. We leave for Italy in forty-eight hours’. What the fūck! I am going to wait until she tells me.

‘Wait, why do I fūcking care? This ends tonight!’ I thought to myself. I pulled out the contact lists, picked up Rose’s phone number, opened the messaging app, then texted her, deciding to meet at the motel in forty-five minutes.

I ran to my room and changed into blue jeans, a black t-shirt, then my black Adidas. I walked back out of my room and grabbed my wallet and car keys. I got to the motel in record time. I knocked on the door, and there she stood.

**

She wore a black lace bra, matching thong, a garter that clipped to the tights, and black stilettos. Her strawberry blonde hair curled at the ends, and she had red lipstick.

Usually, this has my cöck springing into action, but today it’s like hiding out. I grabbed her by the nape of her neck as I pulled her towards me, kissing her roughly. I pushed her in, kicking the door closed with my foot. I turned her around and pushed her onto the small desk next to the door. I ripped her thong off, then shoved a finger inside her pūssy, making her moan. I spread her legs and then got down on my knees. I began circling her clït as I imagined that this was Esmé. Of course, the traitor sprang to action once my brain began imagining her. Once it was hard as a rock, I stood back up, unbuckled my jeans, letting them drop to my ankles, and I grabbed a condom.

I grabbed her by the waist, bringing her ass up more, then pushed her face down on the desk. I slipped my cöck inside of her at the beginning, slow to get her wet enough, then began pounding her. I pulled her hair, making her arch her back.

“Oh fūck!” She moaned out.

I yanked her hair back harder. “Shut the fūck up!” I told her, releasing a bit of her hair and then putting one hand on her lower back, pushing her slightly down. I was close to the edge, so close. I smacked her ass hard, leaving a handprint there. I began massaging her clït while pounding my cöck deep in her pūssy. I could feel the walls of her pūssy begin to clench. I knew she was close, and so was I. I pounded her harder, faster. Until we both came.

I slipped out of her, walking to the bathroom. I slipped the condom off, wrapped it in toilet paper, and flushed that baby down. I pulled my pants back up, buttoning them up and pulling my zipper up. I walked out of the bathroom with Rose on the bed. When she saw me dressed, she pouted.

“I wanted to suck you off.” She said, standing up, walking towards me, and placing her hands on my chest. I grabbed her hands and took them off my chest.

“Sorry. This won’t ever happen again.” I told her, walking past her and back to my car. I felt disgusting. I felt like the worst man ever. In that room, all I could think about was Esmé. I ran my hands through my hair. I placed the car in reverse, pulling out of the motel and heading home.

There was only one thing on my mind. Italy.