The NSC Boxset: Heart of Stone (194 page)

He gave me a small smile and nodded. “That’s exactly what I thought, Ava. He’s happy with you, he’s been happy with you ever since he met you. I have done some digging to see who owns the place and so far nothing, which I find very strange.”

“The girls?”

He shook his head, “No, I’ll give them that, they’re loyal to their previous boss and that, believe it or not, was the reason I gave them a job. Loyalty is everything in this line of work.”

I nodded and sighed. “Then I think it’s about time I did some digging of my own.” I stood and made my way over to the door, “If you hear anything, William, and I mean anything, even if it hurts me . . .”

He nodded firmly, “Yeah, I know, sweetheart.”

I swallowed back the anguish and worry as I ventured back down the corridor. Why would Mason’s name be mentioned by some prostitutes? They had to know him, but how and in what capacity was the difficult question that needed an unwanted answer.

My foot stumbled when I spotted Mason propped up on a bar stool talking to Layla and Owen.

Wonderful! That was this job gone too.

Without seeing me, he turned to me, as if he was aware of my presence without clocking eyes on me. His glorious body was so attuned to mine it didn’t need sight to tell it I was near and vice versa.

His eyes roamed over my work attire and the blaze that lit his pupils brought a gasp as well as a shudder through my sex. A single look and this man made my body convulse with need and hunger.

His stunning sexy smile lit his face and I frowned. Okay, I was not expecting that.

His head tipped and he held out his hand, encouraging me forward and into him. As soon as my body reached his and my hand settled into his large one, he pulled me in tight between his firm thighs and rested his mouth at my ear as my body hummed in contentment at the closeness of its soul mate. “I’m sorry, baby.”

I frowned deeper and pulled back to regard his features. He was serious. Holy Hell!

“Are you okay?”

A hand slid behind me and gripped my bum so he could edge me further into him. “I am now I’m wrapped in you.”

My eyes flicked over every inch of his face, looking for some sort of lie or humour but no, it was clear. I then studied his pupils, all normal and clear.

“You’re scaring me,” I whispered in his ear as I snaked my arms around his shoulders and held him just as close, inhaling his unique scent and getting high on my own personal drug . . . my husband.

His head shot back and his bark of laughter made me grin. “Yeah, I’m scaring myself. You look fucking hot, Ava.”

His finger trailed the edge of the ripped neckline in the deep tight V-neck t-shirt, dipping between my boobs and down into the hollow of my cleavage as his other hand stroked across the thin silky material of the black hot pants struggling to cover my bum.

“I like these,” he growled as he squeezed my bum, “They make me hard.”

I grinned lewdly, “And you just make me hot, Mason.”

He drew in a long harsh breath as his teeth clamped over my bottom lip before he took my mouth dominantly and hard. His lips moving in perfect symmetry to mine as his tongue powered around my own.

Now I got it. He was making his claim on me in front of the whole club.

“You don’t need to exhibit ownership, baby, I’m yours and all the regulars know that.” I smirked at him as his eyes gave away his stun at my acumen.

“And what about the non-regulars?” he mumbled grumpily under his breath as he desperately tried to manage his jealousy and need for control.

“Mason, don’t do this to yourself. I’m not here to entertain and the clients will be well aware of that. I’m just a waitress, that’s all.”

His gaze bore through mine but he nodded eventually and I was proud of his relent in the issue. I knew it was difficult for him to have all the men in here leering at my backside. “I know it’s hard Mason, but you’re the only one who gets to take me home and fuck me. No one else.”

He clenched his teeth and huffed out a breath that wisped over the base of my throat and triggered another heated shudder, but he looked serious for a moment, “We need to talk when we get home . . . after I fuck my wife . . . hard.”

“Yes to both, Mr Fox.” I grinned.

I stroked my thumb across his cheekbone and nodded as Owen handed me a tray overloaded with champagne flutes and a bucket crammed with a bottle of Cristal and ice. “Table six, Foxy,” Owen told me as he referred to me with the nickname William had provided me with. Everyone working here had a pseudo name to protect identity, apart from Owen, which I found rather strange.

I nodded as I picked up the tray and bucket, expertly balancing each in each hand.

I could feel Mason’s eyes on me as he watched me teeter across the room in my four inch knee high boots and thigh length socks. Rather strange for a uniform I know but I kind of liked it, it was sexy but fun.

The rowdy group cheered and grinned at me when I approached their table with their order. They were sat on a large round table in front of Misty, one of the pole dancers, as they constantly told her to take off her clothes.

Misty rolled her eyes at me, her blank expression telling me this behaviour was nothing unusual as one of the men leaned forward and grabbed the edge of her short skirt, trying to pull it from her body.

Her footing slipped slightly as she tried to wriggle away from his grasp but he was having none of it and continued to harass her.

“Can you refrain from touching the performers, please.” I said quietly as not to embarrass him in front of his friends.

He swung his eyes to me and narrowed them before they dropped to my cleavage. I reached across the table to place the tray and a wicked grin erupted on his face, “You available for fucking?”

I raised my eyebrows at his bluntness and lack of manners but remained polite as was expected of my job. “I’m afraid not, but I can book you in with one of the entertainers if you wish?”

He snorted, “Entertainers? You mean whores.”

I bit my lip to hold back the tongue lashing I so wanted to give this ignorant bastard. “No, sir, I mean entertainers.”

He didn’t retort but his eyes fed from my body, his leer penetrating my skin and making me feel dirty. “I think
you
need fucking, darlin.’”

I held his gaze and smiled sweetly as I nodded, “Yes, I do and that’s exactly what my husband will be doing when I get home.”

His eyes cooled and darkened, “Nah, baby, I can give you exactly what a bitch like you needs.” He told me cockily as his finger swept from the dip of flesh at the base of my throat to straight between my cleavage.

I grabbed his hand, grateful that my back was to Mason otherwise this man would be taking his last breath and I would no longer be employed here. I cranked his fingers back harshly until he squirmed in his chair and his mates stared like guppies at their friend being overpowered by a woman. “Do not ever touch what you’re not invited to touch. Do it again and I will break your fingers.” I whispered as I leaned into his face.

His teeth sank into his bottom lip as he glared at me. “Let go bitch, or you’ll soon be regretting it.”

I scoffed and shook my head. “You’re not listening to me,
darlin.’
” I pulled a little more on his fingers until he had to shift his body to accommodate the angle of his hand.

His other hand swiftly shot out towards my hair. Jesus, why did they always go for the hair?

I moved my head in time and brought my free hand out to catch his before I twisted his arm and brought him out of his chair and onto the floor in front of me, on his knees, one arm twisted behind his head and one hand now nearly doubled back on itself in my tight hold.

“Are you listening now?” I asked him calmly.

I groaned as I felt Mason approach, his fury sucking the air from the room, taking the oxygen possessively as he structured the molecules of air around him.

I turned to him, my hold still on the prick in front of me as his mates still stared open mouthed with no offer of assistance to their friend.

“I got it, Mason.”

I might as well have been talking to the four guppies for the amount of receptiveness I got from Mason.

“Mason, baby.” I repeated. I needed him to back off before trouble really started.

The prick in my hold whimpered when he caught sight of the glorious bastard before him. “Now look what you’ve done” I chastised with a shake of my head and a sigh.

Mason dropped to his haunches afore him and removed my hands from his fingers and arm. The idiot sagged and sank onto his arse on the floor. Not for long. He was soon in Mason’s grip as he was dragged across the room and through the front doors.

Shit!

William, who had appeared from somewhere, rolled his eyes at me and gestured for two security guys to follow him as they hurried after a manic Mason.

“Bloody hell” Layla groaned behind me and I puffed out a resigned breath and nodded. “He’s gonna have to get used to it.”

I nodded again as I followed her back to the bar.

Owen chuckled and handed me another tray of drinks. “Here, these are for room 7, you should be safe there. You’re out of sight.”

“Pfft, my husband can see through walls where my safety is concerned.”

He mumbled an agreement still with a laugh as I took off towards the private rooms.

I was still cursing Mason as I flipped open the door to room 7 with my hip and stepped into the room.

My hands shook but I managed to keep hold of the tray as I spotted the resident of room 7.

“Hello, sweetheart” Kade smiled.

I now prayed my husband couldn’t see through walls.

Chapter 7

Mason

WILLOW SLAPPED MY arm when I got back to the bar, grumbling something about controlling my temper. “Mmmm, where’s Ava?” I asked, completely ignoring her telling off as I wiped the blood off my knuckles with a napkin from the bar.

“Delivering an order. Are you even listening to me, Mase?”

I nodded but scanned the room, “No, babe, she’s not here.”

“She’s in one of the privates. You do realise that Ava can handle herself with these pricks, don’t you?”

“Seriously, Lay? They’re fucking knobs who think they have right to touch other people’s property.”

Her brows hit her hairline as her jaw dropped, “Property? Please tell me I just misheard what you said.”

I pursed my lips, wobbled my head from side to side cockily then shrugged, “Nope.”

She grabbed my chin and whipped my head around as she peered in my eyes. Her hand shot out and before I registered what she had done a sharp sting fired through my cheek. “What the fuck, Lay?”

Her chest was heaving as her eyes literally glowed with the fire burning through them, “You stupid fucking twat!”

I grit my teeth, reining in the need to slap the insolence out of my best friend, “Don’t fucking start Willow, not now, not right now.”

She shook her head, her rage and disgust rolling off her in thick waves of antipathy. “What the hell is wrong with you? If Ava finds out . . .”

“She knows” I interrupted before she went into tornado mode and whirled my head with her relentless fucking nag.

I did not need this now, I needed to make sure my wife was safe from wandering hands and perverted leers, their obvious fantasies of what they wanted to do with her displayed in their sick and twisted eyes.

Layla reared back and shook her head slowly as pain and disappointment etched across her pretty face. I curled my lip at her pity, I didn’t want or fucking need her pity. “Don’t fucking judge me, Lay. You don’t fucking get to tell me what to do. Just cos’ Lucas is pussy whipped and pants at your fucking feet like a weak willed fucking lapdog doesn’t mean I do!” I slammed at her.

The hurt that quickly hit her face was swiftly covered by anger before she rolled her lips, shook her head sadly and fucked off.

Good.

“Jack” I barked my order at Owen who raised an eyebrow at my tone but rapidly thought better of it and lowered the fucker back down.

I swiped my itchy nose with the back of my hand as I saw Ava walking briskly down the corridor from the private performing rooms. My eyes narrowed when I noticed how flushed she appeared, no not flushed . . . flustered.

Her footing stuttered as she took me in. My wife could tell by the simple flick of an eye when something was different with me and I growled deep in my chest at the irritation that was so prominent on her face.

Who the fuck did she think she was?

I could see her physically drawing back her fierce words as she ignored me and smiled at Owen, “Anymore?”

He frowned at her with a slight puzzled look. “Yeah, room 7 again, they’re ready for refills.”

“What? But I’ve just served them.” Both annoyance and anguish flittered across her beauty before she pulled it back and nodded sharply. “Go on then.”

He passed her a bottle of Corona; a single bottle. She looked down at it in bewilderment before she looked back up at Owen. “Is this it?”

He shrugged, sighed and nodded. “Don’t ask me?” he said with as much confusion as Ava.

Her tongue pushed a ridge through her cheek before she closed her eyes, pulled in a breath and ventured back down the corridor.

I sneezed and the small dreg of Jack Daniels that was left in my glass swished over the rim of my glass and hit my lap with a splosh. “Fuck!”

I grabbed another napkin and dabbed at the stain but it was already soaked through to the skin. “Fuck it!”

I caught Owen staring again and I lifted a challenging brow at him. He shook his head and picked up a phone from under the desk.

“Uhh, sure, sir.” He said before replacing the thing and trekked down to the other end of the bar to complete the order that had just been phoned through.

Ava appeared beside me as Owen stepped up to her again with another bottle of Corona and waggled it at Ava. She pulled in a hefty breath as Owen shrugged, “Clients, Foxy, gotta drag it in, honey.”

“Don’t call my wife honey” I snapped with a glare to hit home my warning.

I could sense the slight shake of Ava’s head to Owen, telling him not to retaliate. He licked his lower lip, his temper obviously touching just below surface but he nodded in reply and stepped sideways slightly to serve a customer.