Freefall (The Indigo Lounge Series, #5) by Zara Cox

Author:Zara Cox
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sexy billionaire; wounded heroine; damaged hero; indigo lounge; erotic sex
Publisher: Zara Cox
Published: 2015-03-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Keely

I jerk awake in the middle of the night. I’m disoriented for a minute in the pitch blackness. When memory hits, my flash wide eyes.

I’m alone.

When I put my hand on his pillow, Mason’s side of the king-sized bed is cold. I try not to freak out at the crazy thoughts swirling through my head. After what happened to me six years ago, I’ve never fallen asleep with a stranger. And although he told me a few eyebrow raising, deeply personal things last night that I suspect very few people know, he’s still a near stranger. Which makes falling asleep in his bed, in his house, a stupid thing to do. I move around in the darkness and turn on the bedside lamp, then make sure I’m really alone in the room.

There may be a perfectly good reason why Mason’s not here. Maybe he woke up with a crazy idea for another contraption or sexy robot assistant, and he just had to get on it before he lost it. I get like that sometimes.

Or maybe he’s an insomniac. Seriously, there may be a thousand different benign reasons why he’s not in here with me.

Chill, Keely.

I sit up and look around the stylishly minimalist room. Nothing in here tells me what time it is. My purse and phone are both downstairs so there’s no way to check. I slowly lie back and put my head on Mason’s pillow. His scent fills my nostrils, and I smile at the delicious aches in my body.

After my five-month long dry spell and a good few years of mediocre sex, I’ve well and truly hit it out of the park with Mason.

He’s given me the sort of sex women wrote in girly fonts in their diaries and brag about to their less lucky girlfriends over cocktails.

Bethany is going to get an earful the moment I’m out of earshot of Mason Sinclair and his sexy, eavesdropping robot.

Crap, the robot...

I jerk the covers over my nudity when I realize Mason only mentioned audio files earlier. I never though to ask him about cameras. Surely he wouldn’t do something so intrusive?

Reassuring myself doesn’t work, especially not when my mind throws up our conversation in the kitchen. The cold and clinical testimony of his deliberate cruelty toward his family sends another shiver down my spine.

The man who’d fucked me so thoroughly on the sofa was the kind of man to gossip to girlfriends about. The man in the kitchen was capable of just about anything. Including secretly recording our sex for whatever purpose he might choose somewhere down the line.

The thought disturbs me enough to send me out of bed. Since my clothes are still in the wash, I grab a cashmere blanket from the bottom of the bed and wrap it around my shoulders.

Mason had given me a brief tour after our shower earlier, but the mansion is immense, easily big enough to accommodate five families, and I get hopelessly lost several times before I decide to give up.

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