Yes, Master (4 page)

I don’t think I’ll be able to take him being close to me while he has a woman attached to his arm, it’ll fucking ruin me more than I already am.

Knowing that I won’t be the one to kiss him is quite literally destroying me from within.
 

My demons hide deep inside me, they’re not visible to those around. I know they’re there though.

They’re bright and angry. They want me to feel them fiercely coursing through my veins.
 

Mason. They scream his name as they pull and tug wanting so much more from him.

I’m not gay.

“Ry, you ready?” Mason loudly questions from the other side of the door.

“Give me a minute,” I reply as I stand and readjust myself, hoping that my hard-on isn’t visible to him when I open the door.

I turn the handle and step out into the corridor and I watch as Mason walks away from me, also dressed in a tux.

“The car’s here,” he says as he turns to look at me from over his shoulder.

Fuck.

He’s handsome.

He’s hair’s tied back and his eyes look so sensual. But I can’t help but rake my eyes down his body as he fills his suit quite perfectly.

Get it together Ryan.

Taking a deep breath in as I walk past him. I don’t want to smell how good his aroma is, I don’t want to have that association with Mason knowing I can’t have him.

I walk ahead of him and go straight to the limo in a wordless state, letting Mason close the house door behind him as I struggle with his mere presence and the affect it has on me.

We’re both in the car and neither of us says anything, we simply sit in silence, not acknowledging the other.

Or what almost happened in my bedroom.

When we arrive at the event, there’s red carpet rolled out and there’re paparazzi everywhere. There’s a sea of screaming fans that stretches back a fair distance.

“What’s the event for, Mason?” I ask as I look out to the crowd gathering.

“It’s some award ceremony for actors. Something small, but apparently it got leaked that I was going to be here. So that’s why they’re all here,” he says as he points out to the feisty sea of women.

“Well, you can keep your fame, Mase. I’ll go straight in.”

“I’ve gotta sign some autographs and pose for some pictures, but I won’t be long.”

The back door opens, and I watch as Mason leaves and works the crowd. Girls are screaming, and the paparazzi’s snapping photos of him from the moment he exits the car.

In a crazy pandemonium, I manage to slip past all of it with very limited attention.

I get inside with ease after I get asked who I am, checked off the approved guest list, and a security wand’s swept over my body.

The area inside’s grand and overwhelmingly opulent with regal tones of colors splashed everywhere. Rich carpets and heavy sturdy furniture fills the room creating an ambiance of wealth and security.

Waiters are walking around with flutes of champagne. Others are carrying silver trays with colorful and appetizing canapés.

I head straight to the bar, sit at a seat and tap my hand once to the bartender, indicating I’m ready for a drink.

“What would you like, sir?” the pudgy yet well-dressed bartender asks as he stands in front of me.

“Jack, straight up please,” I respond as I look over my shoulder at the caliber of people this award ceremony’s brought out.

Women dressed to the nines with jewels so large that they give off the ostentatious and flamboyant feel, and the men are impeccably attired in expensive suits or tuxedos.

The bartender places the drink in front of me and moves down the other end to continue serving the rich and famous.
 

My eyes lower as I swish the amber liquid around in the tumbler, focusing on the lapping sound it makes against the heavy glass.

I can’t help but think that this life, the one where people put on their airs and graces, isn’t real.

All of this is fiction.

When they take off their expensive dresses and suits, when they’re in bed at night they have to take off all the facades and masks and return to being a normal human. They must have secrets. Don’t they?

Like I do.
 

“Are you going to drink that or just move it around?” a beautiful soft female voice asks me.

I look over to my left into a pair of green orbs. But her eyes aren’t just green.

They soar straight through to my inner soul.

She’s looking at me, like I’m finally being seen.
 

Tearing my gaze away from her, I notice her long blonde hair is pulled into a side ponytail that hangs perfectly straight over her right shoulder.

She’s wearing a floor length black gown, that’s fitted all the way to her curvaceous and attention drawing hips. The dress clings to her breasts, that are pushed up and tantalizing, with a small amount of cleavage that’s showing from the deep V cut of the dress.

“Do you speak?” she says as she smiles to me.

“I’m sorry, I’m just…” I stop talking not knowing exactly what to say to her.

“You’re just what?”

“You’re breathtaking,” is the only thing I manage to say.

“Stella Hartley,” she says as she extends her hand to me.

“Ryan Jenkins, Ma’am.” I take her warm hand in mine.

Her grip is soft yet firm. She doesn’t let go of my hand, and suddenly I feel my hand loosen and relax around her fingers.

Her grip is still quite firm as she stares at me with her lips slightly open in a smirk.

“You’ve met Stella?” Mason asks as he stands beside the vision before me.

I take my hand away from hers, but she contracts her fingers around mine, not letting me go until she’s ready and not a moment before.

“Mason, I um…” What do I say? Who is she to him?

“Ryan, this is Stella. She’s my…” Mason trails off and averts his eyes to the floor.

“Doctor,” Stella interjects in her cool soft voice.

I look to Mason and I notice that he stands rigid beside her, his eyes are lowered but he has a faint smile dancing on his lips.

Why is he so timid, is this the woman he’s been seeing?
 

There’s nothing to be ashamed of here.

She’s a little shorter than I’d expect, but there’s something about her.
 

She exudes an air of confidence and authority. She commands attention just by her stance and seems to get it. I sneak a look around the room and see men and women, stealing glances at her.

“Oh my god, sorry, Mason. I didn’t realize this is the lady you’ve been seeing. I wouldn’t ever have said anything if I knew,” I say to Mason.

“Believe me, Ryan. You wouldn’t have a choice either way,” he says and chuckles.

What’s that supposed to mean?

“So this is your Ryan, Mason. Interesting,” Stella says as she puts an arm around Mason’s waist.

It’s at that moment that I’m torn.

I want him.

But I want her too.

There’s something about her that draws me in.

Her eyes.

The depth to which she looks at me.
 

“You’re his doctor?” I ask Stella.

“Amongst other things,” she quips.

My eyes fly to hers with my own questioning look. Her gaze on me hasn’t faltered, and I feel so unsure of what’s happening.

Amongst other things
. What the hell?

“Mason, I’d like a drink,” she commands in a no-nonsense tone than she’s been using.

“We’re at the bar, I’ll order it for you,” I say.

Mason doesn’t move from his spot. His eyes are still downcast and Stella’s looking at me.

“Mason, go to the kitchen and get me a glass of tap water.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” and with that direction, Mason leaves.

“Why couldn’t we get you a glass of water from here?” I ask totally curious.

“Because, I didn’t want it from here. I want a glass of tap water, and Mason needs to get it for me.”

“I don’t understand.” I’m perplexed by this situation.

Stella takes a small step toward me. I swing around on my stool, and she pushes her way between my thighs. As we’re face to face, I close my legs around her trapping her delicious body to mine.

I place my hands on her hips and try to bring her in closer to me.

I’m assaulted with her smell of freesias mixed with a very subtle undertone of vanilla.

“Did I say you that you could touch me?” she asks in a dark sultry tone.

I drop my hands instantly from her hips and unlock my legs that had her glued to my body.

Fuck me.

My heart’s racing and I’m completely drawn into her. I swallow the lump that’s gathered in my throat as a small trickle of sweat gathers at the back of my neck.

“Good,” she replies when I relax myself.

She moves her head to my ear, like she’s just about to tell me a secret and instantly I get a semi. I close my eyes and take her in.

I just want to touch her.

“He went to get me water from the kitchen, because he wants to please me,” she whispers seductively.

I feel her breath on my nape, the warmth hits at my neck and I groan at the almost contact.

“Do you want to please me, Ryan?”

“Yes,” I moan to her earnestly.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good.” She kisses the highly sensitive skin just behind my ear, and with the lightest of touches, she strokes her tongue down my jaw line.

“Stella,” Mason says as we both look over to him.

Three things happen right in that very instance.

I go to push Stella away, ashamed and embarrassed that I’ve just tried hitting on my best friend’s girl.

Stella stays in the spot she was in and refuses to let me push her away.

And Mason stands still, with his eyes lowered to the floor holding out the water she requested.

What the fuck’s all this about?

Chapter 5

I travel home on my own in the prearranged car that Mason had organized. I sit and look out the window, just allowing my mind to attempt and make some sort of order of the huge clusterfuck that took place.

Mason went home with Stella, and I stare at the starless sky completely conflicted in everything happening inside my soul.

I’ve never wanted a woman like I want Stella.

Even Joanna, she was someone that my feelings developed for over time.

But Stella, I’ve never met her type before.

And I don’t understand it.

I mean, Mason got in her limousine and went home with her. As much as I desperately want to have him, my body also wants to taste her.

I crave her.

I need her.

As the driver quietly turns corners and seamlessly navigates me home, I’m left questioning everything about myself.

Why has Stella made such an impact on me?

What is it about our brief and bewildering interaction that has me so determined to please her?

Why did Mason not try punching me for even looking at Stella the way I did?

But the soaring and troubling part of the entire night for me, were her hardened eyes. They blinded me and cut through every muscle, tissue and bone of my being.

She looked at me like she knew everything that I was harboring and everything that hid behind the public persona of Ryan Jenkins.

Her eyes troubled me.

And they certainly terrified me.

Every time I blinked, I saw the green of her orbs burn through the layers of my pain.

“Sir,” the driver says as he snaps me out of the daze and anxiety of the most perplexing evening of my life.

I look up to see he has the door open and we’re back at my house.

“Thank you,” I mumble as I walk off.

The car pulls away as I unlock the door and step inside the constant reminder of how alone I am.

My home is black, without the smallest flicker of illumination it resembles my life.

Standing just inside my door, I let my eyes adjust to the darkness.

But my mind can’t stop the night replaying on a loop.

“Believe me, Ryan. You wouldn’t have a choice either way.”

Mason’s words graft into my mind, growing and spreading until I no longer understand them.

“Believe me, Ryan. You wouldn’t have a choice either way.”

What does that even mean?

“Believe me, Ryan. You wouldn’t have a choice either way.”

Her eyes.

“Believe me, Ryan. You wouldn’t have a choice either way.”

Her intense eyes.

“Believe me, Ryan. You wouldn’t have a choice either way.”

Her green deep eyes.

Dragging my damaged body to the shower, I turn it on to a scolding hot temperature and step inside.

Closing my eyes, I relax and lean against the shower door.

She’s here.

I can smell her light fragrance wafting through the heated spray of the water.

Mason’s here, too.

His hand extends offering her the water he obediently went to get.

“Do you want to please me, Ryan?”

“Yes,” I sigh to no one.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I say in a very assertive tone, again to no one.

Why?

My mind’s not coping with the past few hours, and the heat of the aqua cascading in a carefree manner down my body’s not helping me.
 

I can’t breathe.

I can’t think.

I’m suffocating.

My lungs are struggling and I’m gasping for air. I try to grab onto the wall, but there’s nothing for me to hold on to.

My breathing intensifies, and I can feel the blood pumping hard throughout my veins.

“Come here, boy,”
he
whispers in my ear.

“No, no, NO!” I scream to the beast.
 

“You can’t touch me again,” I yell, but now the tears are charging forward and breaking through the barriers.

I slump to the tiled shower floor and can’t help but curl into myself.

How? How after so many years can
he
still be here? How can
he
still have this effect on me?
 

“Go away, it hurts.” The tears are now streaming down my face, mingling with the water of the shower. I can’t feel them, but I know they’re there.