Page 11 of Magnetic Temptations
“Coming!” I bellow as I meander down the hallway. Looking through the peephole, I have a momentary freak out. “Give me a second!” Twisting my body, I look at myself in the mirror hanging over my hall desk and flatten then finger comb my hair. It’s the best I’m going to get without rushing back to my bathroom and running a brush through my tangled locks.
As I swing open the door, I look up at Mason through my lashes and shoot him a shy smile. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself. Gonna invite me in?” he asks with an amused chuckle. “I brought breakfast and coffee.” It’s then I notice the tray in his right hand with two cups of steam rising up through the drinking spout and a brown bag clutched in his other hand.
“Sorry, yes, please come in,” I embarrassingly murmur, swinging the door open further so his beefy frame can make it through the doorway and wave him inside.
As he breaches the doorway, he leans forward and pecks me on the forehead. “I got you the hazelnut latte that you always order when you visit me. Then I swung through the bakery and got their ham, cheese, and bacon croissants. Hope you’re hungry.” As if my stomach was waiting for that to be said, it rumbles causing my cheeks to pinken.
“Starving,” I squeak out. Ducking my head, I head over to my pantry and pull out a couple of paper plates and a few napkins. “Would you rather eat at the table or in the living room?”
“Table works for me,” he answers, pulling out one of the chairs and sliding into it. Separating the plates, I place one in front of him and take the empty chair to his right.
He puts one of the breakfast sandwiches on my plate and my eyes widen comically when I see how huge it is. It’s as big as my palm and fingers combined while being stuffed to the gills. “This was made for a giant,” I giggle. “I don’t think I can eat all of it.” I always feel guilty when I waste food, the old saying that there are children starving in China comes to mind when I do. Damn Pops and all of his comparative metaphors. He always figured out a way to gaslight situations to have you do his bidding—the suave bastard.
He smirks at me as he takes his first bite. After chewing, he looks up at me and the way his eyes are leery as he does has me pausing halfway with my sandwich in hand. “Wanted to talk to you about a few things,” he tells me, whipping crumbs from his chin with his crumpled up napkin. “Eat. We’ll talk between bites.”
I nod my head, not sure if I want to prolong this ‘talk’ or not and nibble on the bread, needing it to help settle the sudden nervous flutters in my stomach. After I swallow, I ask, “What’s going on?”
“A few things,” he conveys, and when I notice his plate is empty, humor dances in my eyes. How do men do that? It’s as if their tummies are bottomless pits.
“Such as?” I ask, my intention to get him to carry on so that I’m not sitting on pins and needles waiting for a bomb to drop.
“Hydro approached me this morning. He’d like me to prospect for the club, how do you feel about that?”
“Mason, I’ve grown up in the club, it’s been my life. The question isn’t how I feel about it, it’s about how you feel. What are your thoughts?”
“I like the idea of the brotherhood, but I’m afraid I’m too different and will have trouble fitting in,” he tells me. “I’d like to hear your thoughts on that.”
“Different isn’t always bad, Mason. No man or woman in the DreamCatchers is the same. It’d be a boring world if we all were robotic and thought the same way or had the same actions. What makes you think you wouldn’t fit in with them? Did something happen I’m not aware of?”
“Nothing drastic, but you know how I grew up. Church was always an important part of my identity. I’m having an issue getting past some of the things that take place in the club,” he answers.
“Would you be willing to expand on that?” I query, reaching out and grasping his hand with mine. “There’s no judgment here, Mason. They may be my family but so are you.”
“The women are the hardest part for me,” he says, sighing and reclining back against the backrest.
“The old ladies or the bunnies?” I question, pretty sure I know which set of women he’s talking about but wanting it confirmed so we can comb through his concerns with a fine tooth.
“You know it’s not the old ladies,” he states, giving me a pointed stare. “Women’s bodies are sacred, they’re a temple and I’m not sure that I can wrap my mind around what they’re used for. It makes me feel dirty. Especially when prolific activities take place out in the open and I feel like a voyeur on a porn set.”
I kind of understand his predicament. While the church he was raised in wasn’t one of those fanatical ones where women had to keep themselves fully covered like some out there are, it’s been ingrained in him to respect females as well as his future partner by not engaging in premarital sex. Even though some of the activities he’s mentioning don’t happen as frequently as they used to since so many have committed partners, there are still single men who avail themselves of what the club whores are offering. Party nights, anything goes, so there are times when sex is out in the open.
It’s not my favorite thing to see when I walk in, especially since I’ve seen some of my cousins’ hairy asses more than I ever wanted, but it’s part of the lifestyle here and I don’t think it’ll disappear any time soon. Still, Mason looks extremely uncomfortable right now and my heart goes out to him.
“I get you’re worried your two worlds are going to clash,” I relay. “Did you talk to Hydro about it?”
“I didn’t know how to broach it, Mane. It’s a lifestyle that he is used to and I don’t want to come across as judgmental or hypocritical.”
“He’ll never understand what your issue is if you don’t talk to him about it,” I contend. “Hydro is a reasonable man, he didn’t grow up in a club per se, so if anyone could relate to how you’re feeling, it’d be him. How much do you know about this branch of the DreamCatchers?”
“Only what you’ve shared with me,” he divulges. “Which hasn’t been much since I wasn’t a part of it. I know there are things that outsiders are kept out of so I don’t want you to start telling me their secrets now. I don’t want you to ever be put in the middle of anything where it pertains to me.”
“Then there’s only one way to lay your worries to rest,” I tell him.
“What’s that?” he asks, looking a little worse for the wear.
“Let’s invite Hydro and Ella over for a chat,” I suggest. “What’s the worst thing that could happen? He may have a solution to this issue.”
