3: One night-ish stand

Betrayal’s cold claws crawled up my skin; I felt sick. I spun around and raced back the way I came. Agatha was right. Mason was a player.

I brushed past Julia in the hallway, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me back.

“What is it?” she asked with concern written all over her face.

I took steading breathe to calm myself. After I had regained composure, I shook my head and muttered nothing.

“Don’t lie to me.” With the way she peered into my eyes, I wondered if she could see into my soul.

I couldn’t tell her that I just saw Mason holding another woman intimately and that it upset me. It’s not like he owed me anything.

“I had a fight with Agatha,” I finally said instead,

She sighed and loosened her grip on my arm. “You need to stop fighting with your mum. The both of you cannot continue like this.”

“You tell her that,” I said and started walking away.

One thing was sure, no more frolicking with Mason.

________

For the next couple of days, I avoided Mason as much as possible and said little or nothing to Agatha. In two months, I will be off college all the way in New York and none of these will matter, not an estranged mom and not a hot playboy.

“You have a secret admirer,” I heard Julia say in a singsong voice as she entered my room.

“No I don’t,” I reply amused by the thought of a secret admirer.

“This lovely bouquet of flower left conveniently at your door says otherwise.”

“What?” I smiled and took the bouquet of roses from her. I retrieved the handwritten note.

I miss you clumsy.

I blushed but just as soon, the memory of Mason with the blonde lady came crashing back. I handed the flowers back to Julia. “You can have it,” I said.

She gave me a weird look and then said, “You sure about that?”

I didn’t respond. Of course I didn’t want to give the flowers away, they were from Mason. But giving those flowers to Julia was not as difficult as having to stay away from him.

Later that night, as I finished up my chores. Mason came into the kitchen, with an even bigger bouquet of flower.

“Imogen,” he said, putting the flower down on the counter beside me.

“Sir,” I reply without sparing a glance at him.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“None that I know of,” I reply coldly, my hands working double time just to finish with the dishes and get away from him.

“Then why are you ignoring me?” he asked, taking a few steps closer to me.

“I wouldn’t want any problems with your girlfriend,” the words rushed out even before I had a chance to swallow them.

He chuckled making me feel dumb. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said turning me to face him.

“And the blonde I saw you by the fountain?” I asked evading his gaze.

“Sasha? She’s my best friend. She has being having a hard time lately, I was just consoling her,” he chuckled again.

I wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not, but he looked sincere. And his eyes, they were an endless pool of shimmering blue.

“Don’t lie to me,” I said weakly.

“I would never lie to you,” he said and placed a kiss on my forehead. I blushed.

“Elliot is throwing a party tomorrow night. Pick you up by seven?” he asked.

I managed to stop myself from doing a dance as I said yes. I was still blushing furiously minutes after he left.

Mason liked me.

________

I have never being to a party thrown by rich kids, so I wasn’t completely sure of what to expect. But it was like every other party, with raging horny youngsters rocking each other while getting high on drugs and alcohol.

I felt quite odd in my 5% off floral mini dress, watching others girls in their expensive designer wears. Thankfully there was enough alcohol to drown my insecurities.

“Another round!” Tom raged, as the skinny waiter refilled our empty shot glasses with tequila.

“A toast to Elliot,” said a guy I learnt his name was Fredrick, who said ‘oh gawd’ frequently. “Elliot, you are a crappy friend but we love you!” he continued in a slurry tone.

“To Elliot!” they chorused in unison, before drowning the liquid. The clear liquid burned my throat as it made its way down.

“Now, I’m gon’ try to get laid,” Elliot said as he hopped to his feet and wobbled away. I feared he would fall but he didn’t.

“So…” Greg started, motioning for me to remind him of my name that I had already repeated like a million times.

“Imogen.”

“How do you like the party?” he asked.

I didn’t. “Not bad I guess,” I shrugged.

He looked at me like I was crazy. “You guess?”

“Oh gawd, don’t let Elliot hear you say that,” Fredrick chuckled.

The party sucked. I was only here for Mason and maybe some free booze. But Mason was looking at every other person in the room but me. This was not how I expected the night to go.

“I should get going,” I said, raising my voice above the blaring music.

“Why?” Mason asked, finally casting a fleeting glance at me.

“I’ve got to work in the morning.”

For the next few minutes he did not respond. When he finally spoke he took my hand, “Let’s get out of here, I want to be alone with you.”

Those few words lit up my face like a light bulb and caused an eruption of butterflies in my stomach.

Moments later, we were in a fully furnished room with romantic lights and a bottle of champagne. Mason filled two glasses and handed one to me.

“To us,” he said before clinking our glasses. He downed the liquid in one swig while I took a sip of mine before putting the glass down on the nightstand. I was already tipsy from the many shots I took earlier.

“I like you, Imogen,” Mason said, moving closer to where I sat on the bed. “And I know you like me too,” he said with a boyish grin as he took my hand.

My heart fluttered at the sudden contact. I love you, was more like it.

He leaned closer, his lips inches away from mine, “I’ve always wanted to do this”, my eyelids fluttered shut as his breathe fanned my face.

His lips crashed unto mine with such passion and intensity that took my breathe away. I held onto his collar as he deepened the kiss. He thrust his tongue into my warm mouth, tasting, exploring.

He reached up and groped my breast and just like that, I jolted backwards, breaking the kiss. Too soon.

“What is it?” The lust in his eyes were almost tangible, and filled me with confidence. Confidence that I could make the mighty Mason Livingston want me.

“I…” I cleared my throat, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Hey, its okay,” he whispered as he pulled me closer and kissed my neck. I threw my head backwards as he sucked on the nape of my neck, driving me to the edge. We shouldn’t be doing this I know, but it felt so good. His lips felt like heaven on my neck.

His hand snaked up my thigh and found my wetness. He teased my clitoris with his finger, before inserting his finger into my vagina.

“Fuck,” he gasped, pushing me unto the bed. His lips found mine again and for a while we consumed each with such hunger that left us gasping for breath.

He pulled my dress upwards and inserted his hard member inside me. I gasped and dung my nails into the skin of his back as he rode me to climax.

It was over almost as soon as it began and I gave into the warm embrace of sleep.

When I woke in the morning, he was gone.