Page 82 of Princes of Hollywood

I take my shirt and shorts off and watch him as he pulls things off the rack and holds them up in my direction before shaking his head. He hasn’t asked me to try anything on yet, but he’s right—I have nothing to wear for a dinner party, casual or otherwise.

My gaze roams around the closet to all the shirts, skirts, slacks, dresses in every color. Casual to formal. Even jeans and T-shirts at one end, but not like the kind I buy from the thrift store. Everything looks brand new.

“Mouse, take it all off.” Mason hangs a black dress on the peg on the wall and moves to the wooden drawers. The dress has almost a swing skirt to it, but a modest square neckline. Well, mostly modest; it will still show some cleavage.

My focus returns to his words, and I automatically put my hands over the sides of my panties. “I need underwear.”

He’s obviously lost his mind if he thinks I’m not wearing underwear in someone else’s dress, especially at a party. What I’m wearing won’t show lines through the dress that looks like it’s silk. The skirt is loose enough. My underwear will be fine.

Sure, they aren’t fancy, but they’re white and sturdy.

He sighs and holds up some bits of silk and lace. “You can’t wear that. Here.”

I take the bits of lace and realize they’re panties and a bra. Shaking my head, I hold them back out to him. “I’m not wearing someone else’s underwear.”

Apparently, I do have limits I’m willing to hold.

Placing down a pair of heels next to the dress, he rubs at his forehead. “Why must you be so defiant?”

“I’m not being defiant. I’m being sanitary.” Honestly. Washing only does so much.

He closes in on me, and I back into the wall. My breath escapes my lungs at the heat pouring off him, and the chaotic energy he’s giving off is so different from his usual stoic self.

My heart stampedes as his intense blue eyes focus on me. He takes the panties and bra from my hand and sets them on a shelf.

“First, what makes you think those are someone else’s?” Mason’s hands slip behind me and he unclips my bra.

Desire skitters across my skin with his fingers as he removes my bra.

I gesture to this room. “You just happen to have women’s underwear and clothing in a closet that doesn’t belong to another woman?” I may be young, but I’m not naïve. Maybe some woman or women left behind stuff, but this isn’t a mere coincidence. He happens to have clothes for me? I’m not buying that.

“No, little mouse, I happen to have a closet filled with clothes for you. That I purchased new and brought here for you.” His words make me freeze. What? Mason takes hold of the sides of my panties and lowers them to the ground.

I’ve only been here a couple days.

“For me?” I breathe out as panic swells inside me. This must have cost a small fortune. What will this cost me? It won’t be money, because I can’t afford this, not even with what they intend to pay me.

When he straightens, I stand before him, naked. “Now, I asked before, but I’ll ask again. Do you want to be my good girl or do I need to treat you like my whore?”

I press my thighs together at the ache his words cause. I still don’t know. My wide-eyed gaze returns to him.

His gaze softens at whatever he sees, and he cups my cheek. “I said I’d take care of it, mouse, and I did. You can’t be yourself in Hollywood, so let me make you into someone who can fit into this world. When we’re here, alone, in our own world, you can wear whatever pleases you, but when we need you to fulfill a role, let me dress you.”

My mouth opens and closes. My gaze roams helplessly through the closet with more clothes than I could wear in a year. “This is too much,” I whisper. “Mason, I can’t—”

“You can because it helps you fulfill your role, the job we hired you for.” He lifts my hand and pulls me forward off the wall. Picking up the panties off the shelf, he turns them until they are the correct direction and lowers to his knee before me, holding them out. “Think of it as your armor or your uniform.”

“My uniform has panties?” I raise an eyebrow.

He chuckles darkly. “I’d prefer you to go without, but tonight, panties seem appropriate.”

I step into them and he drags them up my legs. He pauses before they cover me and leans forward to kiss my pubic bone before pulling them over my hips. A little shiver races through me, reawakening my lust.

“Feel free to wear whatever you’d like.” He smooths his hands over the silk bottom of the panties, lighting the flames within. His thumbs linger on the bands of lace. “I like the idea of the softest silk panties under your huge T-shirts and shorts. It’s like a present I can unwrap later.”

I’m definitely not used to this. Hand-me-downs, thrift shops, and a new pack of Hanes have been my go-to clothes for so long. Mason picks up the bra and holds it out for me to slide my arms into. No man has ever bought me clothes. Let alone a whole wardrobe.

“When we play, I’ll have outfits for you to wear.” He takes my hand and leads me over to the dress. Before I can step forward to take it, he unzips it and removes it from the hanger. No man has ever put more clothes on me.

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