AN: Sorry for the late chapter update,
***
“Why am I wearing a coat?” Jason asked Jodie as the two walked into the foyer. Sophia was already sitting “It’s what? The last day of summer?” Jason could already feel the heat build up.
“You haven’t exactly put on fresh or decent clothes after your shower.” Jodie explained, “The first stop we’re going to at the mall is clothes shopping. Get you some fresh new clothes. Then you can take it off.”
Jason sighed, then looked over to Sophia, taking both hands in his. “Sorry Sophia. I did want to put in the extra effort to look good for you. But as my mom explained. These are the only clothes of Jason’s that fit me.”
“No, no, it’s fine.” She stammered out. Looking up at him. It seemed she wasn’t used to looking up to see Jason’s eyes. “as your mom said, we’ll be rectifying it first.”
“Come on, the Car’s at the door.” Jodie interrupted the pair. Everyone filed out the front door. And sure enough, a sleek black Mercedes limo sat outside, its engine turning over. I actually got a bit giddy looking at it, as we filtered inside. Rich, cream leather seats, designer interior. It was designed as a face-to-face club seating layout with four chairs. Jodie had taken up one of the chairs up front, while Sophia and I sat next to each other. A sweeping panoramic glass roof flooded the cabin with natural light, but the real marvel was the sheer cavernous scale of the space. Sure, the rich posh car was a buzz in its own right. But what actually set me buzzing was the privacy and legroom to get up to naughty stuff, the partition glass between us and the cabin became an almost opaque white, while only letting light through, while the windows themselves were tinted. From the outside they just looked like mirrors.
As the heavy door sealed shut and the partition shifted, the conditioned air kicked on with a soft hiss. With it came a warm, sweet draft—like someone had pulled a fresh batch of apple-cinnamon cookies straight out of an oven.
Jason glanced around the spotless leather interior, confused. Do luxury limos come with heated bakery vents now, or did the chauffeur stash breakfast under the console? The thought slipped away the moment Sophia shifted on the seat beside him, but the faint, sweet warmth lingered at the back of his throat.
Sophia watched me for a moment before speaking up “What’s the matter. You look like this is the first time stepping into a car.” A small smile tugging on her lips. The car finally pulled off.
“A ‘car’” I responded with air-quotes. Looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve been in cars before, but this is a Mercedes Limo.” I answered her all excitedly.
Sophia watched his face light up and laughed softly. His excitement was cute, but she doubted it would last. “Give it a week,” she teased, bumping her shoulder against his. “Once you’ve taken a few trips in one of these, it’s just a very comfortable box that gets you from one place to another.” Her smile widened with quiet confidence. “The real fun is in the garage at home. Those cars don’t just carry you somewhere—they make you enjoy every second of getting there. After you’ve tried one of them, this limo will feel painfully dull.”
“Yeah, what you got?” Jason asked.
“My mom’s got a few Lambo’s and porches at the house. Maybe we could take them for a spin one of these days.” Sophia low-key bragged.
“Yeah, sport’s cars, that’ll be nice.” I thought it over. “Got any muscle cars?”
“Muscle cars?” Sophia paused. Thinking it over. “I haven’t noticed any, but I’m sure I can have a look, next time I go. Mother’s a bit of a car enthusiast; she might have some classics.”
I turned to Jodie. “Do we have any chargers, or mustangs?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Your Mother usually goes for high end luxury cars or sports cars.” Jodie answered.
“So, you're interested in muscle cars?” Sophia asked.
“Yeah, Muscles and GT’s but GTs are quite expensive. I saw an article once of a pristine white Dodge Challenger, someone had modified it by raising the suspension and giving it better heavy-duty tires for off-roading. I kinda wanna do that if I ever get one.” Thinking about it, Jason’s eyes wandered down to her breasts, images of her boobs jiggling while going off road. He couldn’t help but notice how massive her boobs looked, just shy of a D-cup.
Sophia noticed where he was looking, and looked down as well. “Huh? Something on my chest?” She asked so innocently.
Jason turned away to look out the window, his cheeks a little flustered. “Err, nothing.” Jason awkwardly ended the conversation.
Sophia watched him, completely at sea. One moment he was chatting animatedly about engines, and the next he was practically pressing his nose against the tinted glass, red-eared and tongue-tied.
She glanced across the cabin for help, but Jodie wasn’t looking baffled in the slightest.
Slumped comfortably in the leather, Jodie had an arched eyebrow and a wicked grin. Catching Sophia’s eye, Jodie flicked her gaze pointedly down to Sophia’s blouse, raised a hand out of Jason’s line of sight, and mimed slipping open a couple of buttons. She followed it with an encouraging nod.
Sophia hesitated, then subtly undid the top two buttons. The fabric parted, revealing the pale swell of her cleavage.
“Hey, Sophia, what do you reckon—” Jason turned back to the cabin, and the words died in his throat.
His jaw locked. His eyes dropped straight to the sudden expanse of pale, exposed cleavage. At the exact same second, that sweet aroma surged—crisp orchard apples baked into buttery dough, sweet and thick enough to make his mouth water. His chest tightened, a pleasant buzz ringing in his ears that made it impossible to string three words together.
Damn it, is she wearing some kind of holiday-scented lotion? His face burned, his focus completely shattered between the sight in front of him and the rich, sugary draft rolling off her collar.
Then his gaze snapped past Sophia and locked onto Jodie.
Jason narrowed his eyes, glaring absolute daggers at his mother. Did you seriously just orchestrate that?
Jodie didn’t flinch. Her shit-eating grin widened into pure triumph. She propped her chin on her palm, fluttered her lashes innocently, and took a leisurely sip of water, utterly refusing to back down. Her smug expression said it all: Guilty as charged, darling. Do something about it.
Watching the silent clash, the puzzle pieces snapped into place for Sophia.
Jason hadn't turned away out of prudish disgust. He wasn't recoiling from her. He had looked away because his eyes had gravitated straight to her chest—and having a clearer view had completely derailed him.
Does he… like my chest? Women's bodies?
A prickle of heat hit her cheeks, but beneath it surged a wave of raw, intoxicating relief. For six exhausting months, the previous Jason had been an untouchable Ice Prince—cold, distant, and seemingly repulsed by her every advance, gradually eroding her confidence until she felt undesirable and hollow. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Yet this Jason wasn't an Ice Prince. A pair of undone buttons had shattered his easy swagger in a heartbeat.
I can tease him, she realized, a thrill humming through her veins. He isn't immune to me.
Sophia subtly shifted, leaning slightly forward with an elbow on her knee to naturally deepen the neckline of her blouse.
“Sorry, Jason,” she asked smoothly, innocence masking the sudden spark in her eyes. “Were you going to ask something?”
Jason dragged his murderous glare away from Jodie. He tried valiantly to meet Sophia's eyes, but his gaze betrayed him, darting downward for a greedy second before he forced it back up, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.
“I… uh,” he mumbled, clearing his throat and rubbing his neck, entirely flustered. “Forgot. Completely forgot.”
Jodie muffled a snort across from them. Sophia didn’t laugh, but a small, predatory smile touched her lips. Her confidence was back, and suddenly this shopping trip looked far more promising.
Jason looked straight at Sophia. Since the meeting in Mother’s study, she had tried to remain passive, stoic even, just drifting along with the current. But that little nudge from Jodie had clearly sparked something awake in her.
Reversing the roles in his head, it made complete sense: having someone openly ogle your body delivered an intoxicating rush of confidence. In fact, that exact rush had fueled Jason's entire morning. And what had he done with it? Bullied a maid, flustered his sisters, threw his handler onto his bed before mounting her, and even went so far as to ban her from wearing panties in his presence.
Now, all that power he had been revelling in all morning was slipping into Sophia's hands just because of a couple of undone buttons?
Fuck that. Not going to happen.
A slow, wolfish grin spread across Jason’s face, and right on cue, Sophia’s newfound confidence flickered.
“Do you know why I was actually so excited about this car?” Jason leaned forward, closing the space between them.
“No?” she replied, a sudden tremor of hesitation cracking her cool tone.
He caught her chin between his fingers, tilting her face up. Leaning close enough to whisper against her ear, the warmth radiating off her neck was practically suffocating. It wasn't perfume. It was too soft, too humid—hot skin radiating the distinct tang of sweet baked apple and sugar. It made his head swim with an intoxicating buzz, making his pulse thump heavy in his ears.
He almost forgot his own teasing comeback entirely, his teeth tingling with the sudden, primal urge to find out if her neck tasted like pastry dough the way Emma’s had. Then he remembered, “Do you know what we can do back here, Sophia?”
“...No?” she whispered, caught completely off balance.
Jason let her go.
Just like that, he dropped back against the leather seat, lacing his fingers behind his head with an easy, smug shrug. “You know what? I think I’ll keep that my little secret.” ‘One of us will definitely be giving the other head in this car.’ but for the first time today, even Jason felt it would have been too abrasive, even for him to say.
The delicate pink on Sophia's cheeks instantly darkened into a fuming, embarrassed red. Her jaw tightened, her lips parting into a stunned, indignant pout at being played so cleanly.
Before she could rally her dignity, Jason let his gaze drop lazily to her chest one more time, wearing a shameless smirk. “I do like looking at your tits, though.”
Sophia shot him a murderous death glare. The crude comment almost triggered a bizarre, prudish reflex she didn't even know she possessed—an instinctive urge to cross her arms and hide herself. A girl covering her chest just because a boy looked? If her friends at school caught wind of her shrinking away because a boy drank in the sight of her mounds, she’d never live it down.
Realizing it wasn't too late to salvage the upper hand, Sophia didn't cover up. Instead, keeping dead-eyed contact with him, she reached down and popped a third button.
The blouse fell further open, putting the delicate black lace of her bra on proud display.
Jason’s neck muscles locked. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.
She got me again.
“Fine. You wanna play that game?” Jason challenged, sitting forward and taking off the gloves. He reached down and yanked open the zipper of his oversized coat.
“Jason. Fasten your coat.” Jodie’s voice cut across the cabin like a whip.
Jason snapped his head toward her, aghast. “But Mom—”
“Now!” Jodie ordered. Despite the stern snap, a distinct twitch of amusement tugged at the corner of her lips.
“Whose side are you on?” Jason protested, throwing his hands up.
“This isn't about sides. You’re a boy, and you're my son. You are not starting a stripping contest in the back of a limo.” Jodie held her water bottle in one hand, tucking the other casually across her chest.
“Starting? Me? I didn't start shit! You did!” Jason argued back. “You didn't tell Sophia to cover up—in fact, you literally told her to do the opposite!”
“Language, Jason,” Jodie reprimanded smoothly, raising an eyebrow. “Plus, she’s a girl. It’s not improper for a lady to show a little plumage when she’s trying to catch her intended’s eye. That’s called courtship, darling. What you were about to do is called indecent exposure, and I’m not having MAIDS fine me before we even reach the boutiques.”
Sophia caught herself giggling at him. Jason looked between the two women ganging up on him. Crossing his arms, he huffed and looked out the window.
***
The limo pulled to a halt at a drop off zone. Sophia was closest to the door, yet didn't move. Waiting for something. A click on the intercom signalled an incoming transmission. “We have arrived at the Grand Galleria promenade, Lady Henderson,” the chauffeur announced right as the passenger door opened up.
Jason peered through the tinted glass. Back home, a mall meant concrete, fast food, and asphalt. Here, towering limestone arches, marble colonnades, and crystal skylights made it look like a high-fashion palace. Visit novelping . com for the full chapter.
“Quite the fancy place we have here.” Jason looked at Sophia. “Did you pick this place because I’m paying?” a grin plastered on his face.
Sophia looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Then pulled out a card of her own. “Dear, I can cover everything if you want.”
“It's fine, Sophia. Jason asked us to cover it, and we will.” Jodie cut in immediately.
‘Oops, maybe I tugged a spot or something.’ Jason thought, seeing Jodie’s immediate rebuttal.
The foot woman opened Sophia’s door, allowing her to step out first, followed by Jason and Jodie.
Something wasn't quite right with the crowd as his eyes scanned over. Males, both teens and adults filled the place out almost as much as females. Wasn't there a gender ratio of 7:1 and they were either in large groupies or latched onto a female’s arm, not a single one walked alone.
Worst of all the young men strolling the promenade were dressed like walking showpieces, styled with an unabashed, high-fashion campiness. Everything they wore was aggressively form-fitting: spray-on leather trousers and shimmering skinny jeans cut so tight they outlined every delicate curve of their slight thighs, perking up their pert behinds and framing their slender waists. Cropped silk jackets in vivid pastel pinks and lilac hues sat high to expose slivers of smooth midriff, paired with sheer lace shirts that clung like a second skin over ribcages with barely an ounce of fat. Everything about them screamed money, pampered vanity, and deliberate physical display—each outfit tailored within an inch of its life to flatter their slight proportions and draw thirsty, admiring gasps from the women flanking them.
Jason buckled from an intense shiver of ick running up his spine. Nope, nope, nope, nope.
He looked down at himself. A ratty, sweat-stained black t-shirt and baggy grey sweatpants, hastily hidden beneath an oversized trench coat. After sweating through workouts and confrontations all morning without a fresh change of clothes, he looked like a vagrant wrapped in a curtain compared to the walking luxury adverts outside. The coat wasn't just hiding his bulk—it was Catherine and Jodie’s desperate attempt to keep him from committing social suicide on a high-society date. Maybe he could just find a cleaner, heavier version of his usual gear inside.
“Keep that coat zipped right to the top, Jason,” Jodie warned, curling her lip in open disgust as she cast an aristocratic sneer across the promenade. “You are not embarrassing this family by advertising that you're wearing dirty gym rags on an official betrothal date. And don't you dare get any funny ideas from what these whores are wearing.”
Jason rolled his eyes, but dutifully checked the zipper was locked under his chin. “Ew, no. Zero interest in wearing that shit. It looks gay as fuck.”
Beside him, Sophia took her sweet time adjusting her own clothes. With deliberate slowness, she re-fastened the third button of her blouse, leaving the top two open just enough to tease that tempting border of black lace. Catching his stare, she offered him a small, victorious smirk. Before naturally closing the gap, her shoulder brushed against the heavy fabric of his coat. As the draft of fresh mountain air whipped across the promenade, it caught her scent and threw it straight into his face. That same sweet warmth flared against the morning chill—crisp orchard apples baked into warm, buttery cookies.
Jason swallowed hard, giving a subtle twitch of his head to clear the stubborn fuzziness buzzing behind his temples. I definitely need to eat something after this boutique, he told himself, stubbornly trying to rationalise the sudden hunger tightening his gut. I’m literally hallucinating bakery aisles every time she gets within two feet of me.
Before they could take another step toward the entrance, a low, mechanical rumble vibrated through the flagstones behind them.
Jason glanced back over his shoulder. A sleek, matte-grey SUV had smoothly pulled up right behind the limo. Its doors snapped open in unison, and four female knights in polished runic power armour stepped onto the pavement. The etched runes across their breastplates glowed with quiet lethality as they formed a tight, protective perimeter around the group's rear.
Jason blinked, stunned. “Wait... were they following us the whole way?”
“Of course they were,” Jodie replied breezily, snapping her compact shut. “Did you honestly think your mother would let her only son leave the grounds without an escort?”
The contrast between Jason and the rest of the promenade was immediate. While the other men were slight, sheltered figures styled within an inch of their lives, Jason was a broad-shouldered wall of raw frame swallowed by a dark coat. Several noblewomen nearby stopped dead in their tracks, their conversations stalling as their eyes locked onto his sharp jaw, height, and undeniable presence.
Beside him, Sophia’s chin tilted up, her crystal-blue eyes flashing with unmistakable territorial pride as she caught the hungry stares of the passing crowd.
“Well, Lord Jason,” she murmured, a trace of haughty amusement in her tone. “Let's get you out of that awful coat before you make a scene.”
“One thing bugs me,” Jason said, his gaze sweeping over the polished limestone promenade. “You said the ratio was one in seven, but this place looks almost fifty-fifty.”
“High-end district, high-end boutiques,” Jodie replied casually, checking her compact mirror before snapping it shut. “Old money hoards the men. Most women out there will go their entire lives without getting within ten feet of a boy, let alone taking one shopping.”
“So the rich just monopolise the supply?”
“Naturally,” Jodie said with a slight shrug. “You’re a rare commodity, darling. Nobody with status lets an asset like you wander into the lower classes.”
Sophia swept a critical, amused gaze down the length of his oversized coat. an amused smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
“She’s not wrong, Lord Jason,” Sophia said smoothly, stepping in closer. The fresh breeze kicked up between them, carrying that faint, mouth-watering drift of warm, spiced apple cookies straight to his nose. “Men here are living trophies of power and influence. Which is precisely why having mine strolling the promenade dressed like a burglar who raided a lost-property bin is doing neither of our houses any favours.”
Jason’s eyebrows shot up. A slow, wolfish grin spread across his face as he leaned slightly into her space. “Your trophy, huh? Good to know I’m valuable. Though for someone calling me an asset, you seemed awfully eager to put your own goods on display in the car.” Jason let his gaze drop deliberately to her chest to emphasize the point. She had fastened the third button, but the top two were still defiantly undone, framing that tantalizing hint of black lace.
A sudden flare of heat kissed Sophia’s cheeks, but she tilted her chin up with crisp noble pride. “A lady knows when to present her assets, Lord Jason. She just ensures they’re packaged far better than… whatever this is.” She lightly tapped his bulky coat sleeve. “Now, inside. Before the other trophies start thinking you’re my bodyguard.”
The group began moving past the runic guards and toward the boutique entrance.
“So, are you going to share those cookies, Sophia?” Jason asked casually as they walked.
Sophia blinked, thrown off. “...Cookies?”
“Apple and cinnamon,” Jason said, looking straight at her. A faint trail of drool almost threatened to form at the corner of his lip as his stomach gave an appreciative rumble. “I’ve been smelling them on you for the whole car ride. Honestly, it’s driving me crazy.”
“Err…” Sophia faltered, caught entirely off guard. The subtle, predatory hunger gleaming behind his clear blue eyes sent a shiver straight down her spine. Shaking herself out of the momentary trance, she lifted a wrist to her nose and sniffed her collar, thoroughly bewildered. “I… don’t smell anything? I haven't eaten any cookies today.”
Behind them, Jodie clapped a manicured hand over her mouth, barely muffling a delighted giggle. “Oh, no.”