As I’m about to agree, we hear his brother right outside the door. “Mase, I know you’re busy, but can I talk to you for a minute?” His voice is timid.

“Fuck me.” Masen growls. “Now?” he asks louder.

“Yeah man, I’m sorry, but I know you’re leaving soon so it needs to be now.” Masen throws his head back and blows out a deep breath.

“It’s fine, baby. He needs you. Maybe you can find out what’s really going on.”

He looks down at me and grins. “Did you just call me baby? You’re my baby. I’ll be your stud or big daddy, you can even call me cowboy ‘cause I love when you ride me.” He picks me up, and my legs wrap around his waist. “But baby?” he questions jokingly.

“It just slipped out, Big Hoss, calm down. How about I just call you, Mine,” I whisper the last part into his ear and nibble his lobe. His answer is a deep rumble up his chest right before my back hits the door. One hand is tugging on the button of my pants, and the other is braced against the wall. His hips keep me pinned. My hands explore every inch of him I can reach.

I hear a strangled sigh and remember Sniffer needs Masen’s help. “Masen.” He grunts and uses his thumb to caress my nipple. “Masen,” I say a little more insistently.

“Love when you say my name, baby,” he coos and pulls my bra cup down having already unbuttoned my pants.

“He needs you.” His brow furrows in confusion. “Sniffer needs you,” I whisper.

His forehead drops to the door right beside my head. “Need a fucking guest house,” he rants, setting me down as he continues to mumble he must say fuck, fucker, or fucking at least ten times.

I kiss his cheek. “Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done, Big Daddy,” I say playfully.

His nostrils flare, and he yells, “Fucking shit, Cass,” before storming out the door.

We eat a late lunch at one of Masen’s favorite places near his office. Every waitress knows him by name and flirts shamelessly, even when I’m attached to his side. It should be flattering to know these women want him, and he’s mine. It’s pissing me off.

When a bad bottle dyed redhead makes a point to shimmy to our table from across the room to refill his already full water glass, I’ve had enough. “Back off,” I sneer loud enough for every woman watching our table to hear. “I’m getting you a wedding ring!” I state to his smirking face. “You think it’s funny?” I gape, incredulous. “These women act like they’re in heat, and you’re the only scratching post! How funny would it be if I winked at that guy over there or touched his arm while I ask where the restroom is?”

His smile falls. “I’m not doing any of that,” he defends, “They are. I’m not interested in any of these women. What man?”