Chapter 199

• Harper's POV
• He moves me off his lap, then stands. Slowly. Like he’s already stepping into a rhythm only he can hear. I sit on the edge of the bed, wide-eyed and smug, trying to hold onto the upper hand while knowing damn well I just gave it away.
• He doesn’t speak. He pulls his shirt over his head with one smooth movement and tosses it aside. His chest is carved muscle, tattoos stretching across him like inked warnings. The shift in him is obvious, suddenly he’s not just Mason anymore. He’s the man who owned rooms, who turned desire into currency and pleasure into a performance.