The NSC Boxset: Heart of Stone (234 page)

He did leave then, pulling the door shut quietly behind him as I dropped my head back on the headboard and tried to identify my reactions.

Why the hell had I perved on him? I hated him, literally, for what he had done to Ava and Mason. And why the hell had his words made me hotter than a whore in a whorehouse?

I was just horny, that was it. It wasn’t anything to worry about. Everybody got horny, and when you’re horny, any man looks fuckable.

Yeah, that was it and I swung my legs over the bed as I sighed in relief.

Whatever had just happened wouldn’t happen again.

That I could promise.

Chapter Seven

Kade

HOLY FUCKING SHIT. I was harder than my mother’s nut roast, requiring me to adjust myself after I had pulled the door closed just to appease the strain and provide a little comfort. What was it with this damn woman? She was pure rabid Rottweiler, but there was something, just something . . . in her that I wanted. No, my body felt like it needed. She was like the sun my skin craved in the winter, the coolness my body hungered for in the summer or the beat a tune needed to make it rock. She just made me crave her.

Damn! I didn’t need this now. It was just because I was missing my usual hook ups.

Shit! The thought of being holed up here for weeks without sex, never mind months was sobering and I grit my teeth, pictured my granny and went in search of coffee.

The kitchen was cold, clinical and barely lived in but absolutely huge. The whole place looked like it had been recently modernised and never used. It even smelled up-to-the-minute and fresh; the units, the small rustic table dominating the left hand wall and even the floral padded window seat were all pristine and untarnished. It reminded me of a brand new doll’s house, everything perfect and set in place ready to play with.

It was a strange kind of set-up and if I hazarded a guess, I would say nobody actually lived here, and they hadn’t in a long time. But then again, the fridge and cupboards were well stocked. The heating was fired up and warming the house nicely. There was also what looked like a casserole in the oven, simmering away gently and smelling phenomenal as I bent and peeked through the clear glass window.

“It should be ready sir, if you’re hungry now.”

I shot a mile in the air, dropping the mug I had just been spooning coffee granules into and spun around to the sound of an old, leathery voice.

A woman of around sixty smiled warmly and nodded her head slightly, her three chins wobbling frantically whilst her large round belly jiggled as she tried to sustain her laughter. She bent to retrieve my cup from the floor, her soft face still smiling when she stood and placed my cup on the table, “I am so sorry; I seem to have surprised you there. Did Grace not tell you I would be here?”

I shook my head and stared at her. She still continued to smile and I wondered if she ever wore anything other than a grin but the warmth behind her eyes settled my nerves slightly. She approached and held her hand out, “Mona Hardy. You must be Mr Hamilton; Grace informed me that you would be accompanying her.”

I took her hand and the heat she generated stunned me slightly. “Can I serve you some dinner, sir?”

“Kade, please” I corrected her.

She smiled—again, and ushered me into a seat at the table before she proceeded to place cutlery, napkins and what looked like fresh homemade bread before me. “Do you live here with Beaumont . . . sorry, Grace?”

She blinked and a faint crease showed her confusion, “Grace doesn’t live here, Mr Hamilton. She hasn’t for over seventeen . . .”

“Mona . . .” Grace cautioned from behind me. Mona lifted her eyes and the elation that she displayed was incredible to witness. Her whole face brightened as a huge toothy grin broke from the normal smile and she open her arms, remaining motionless by the worktop.

Grace walked straight into her and sank into the old woman’s embrace. I smiled, anybody would have, at the love these two obviously had for each other.

Mona pulled back and held Grace at arm’s length as she flicked her eyes over every inch of her tall frame. “You’ve got thinner, pet” she grumbled with a stern expression.

“Oh, Mona, you say that every time and every time I am the exact same as I was the previous time you expressed your displeasure.” Grace laughed and pulled the old woman into another hug. “I missed you” she whispered but I caught the slight tremor in her voice.

“Oh, goodness and you too, my darling. So much.”

They embraced for a moment until Grace seemed to remember I was there and pulled away, her eyes flicking to mine before she walked to the oven, peered in, smiled and then disappeared through a door at the back of the kitchen.

“Are you ready to eat, sir?” Mona queried and I nodded as I frowned at the door Grace has gone through.

My stomach rumbled extremely loudly when the casserole was placed in the centre of the table, the vast amounts of steam swirling from it matching the immense hunger now coursing through me as Mona scooped a huge amount onto a warm plate. “So, Mr Hamilton, have you know Grace for long? She said you were just friends.”

I didn’t miss the probing scrutiny she slipped over me with narrow eyes, as though debating whether I was worthy of being a
friend
to Grace.

“Um, not really.”

I wasn’t sure how much this woman knew of what Grace did. The bureau was extremely secretive, I knew that and I didn’t want to accidently give out any information that wasn’t privy to everyone.

She glanced at me as confusion settled over her pale face, obviously wondering why Grace would bring a friend home that she hadn’t known for long, “More acquaintances.”

She seemed appeased with that and I scanned the door again. Where the hell had Grace gone?

“So Mona, I take it you have known Grace a while.”

She smiled widely and nodded as she placed a glass of water in front of me and one in the place opposite for Grace. “I was Grace’s nanny and the family’s housemaid.”

“Ahh,” I mumbled around the rich, tender beef that my taste buds were screaming in ecstasy with. “So you live here and take care of the property?”

“Well, I don’t actually live in the house. I have a small cottage over behind the old stables. I just care for the old girl now.” She seemed sad and a small sigh accompanied her words before she shook her head glumly and removed her apron, prior to pulling on a coat that was hung on a hook. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning Mr Hamilton. I’m hoping Grace will relent and go hunt for a tree.” She giggled and I smiled widely at the happy infectious sound.

“A tree?”

She gave me a stern bewildered look but the twinkle in her bright green eyes gave away her giddiness, “Yes, a Christmas tree Mr Hamilton. I can’t actually remember the last time the old girl was spruced up and decorated for the season.”

I nodded, “Well Mona, I’ll make it my mission tonight to persuade her.” I gave her a wink and she physically shook with delight before she bent close and planted a gentle kiss on my cheek, the scent of honeysuckle and vanilla supplementing the sweet peck.

“That would be wonderful.” She winked back as her eyes widened, “A conspiracy, oooh how exciting.”

I laughed as she left and pulled the door quietly behind her, my whole body shivering as an icy breeze blasted around the kitchen with the open door.

I continued to eat on my own for a while and just as I was about to go on the hunt for Grace, she reappeared. She walked over to the door Mona had gone through and turned the key whilst sliding across the three bolts and fixing the chain into the recess. “Secure enough?” I asked with a slightly amazed laugh.

She quirked a brow at me as she settled in the seat opposite and filled her plate with food, “I take it you don’t do security?”

I shrugged and shoved my empty plate aside, “Never really had the need to.”

She scoffed as she drank down her water and then tucked into her meal, “Well believe me, now you do, Mr Hamilton.”

“Will you call me Kade! You make me sound fifty.”

She carried on eating as if I hadn’t spoken until her phone rang. She glanced with a confused expression at the screen and swiped it, “Beaumont.”

Her jaw tightened as a sever fire blazed behind her eyes. An iciness rippled around her as her whole body clenched in fury and her chest heaved rigorously. I picked up my plate and busied myself rinsing it as though I wasn’t listening to her conversation. Of course, I was listening.

“Why bother? You know you’re not welcome.”

I could physically feel her tension and I quietened my actions as I tried to catch hold of the voice on the other end of the conversation.

She laughed bitterly and mockingly, “Oh, you know I’d love that.” By the tone she used, I gathered she was joking as her teeth rattled furiously.

“No.” She said bluntly as she ended the call with as much abruptness as her tone before she rose from the table and walked out of the room stiffly.

I stood still and silent as I pondered her exchange and actions afterwards. I could feel both her anger and her distress; the house literally seemed to darken with its keeper’s mood as an intense weightiness controlled the air in the room.

A door closed somewhere, its echo bouncing around the abandoned house and never actually settling on anything solid as though the years of rejection had taken its core and left just a hollow shell of a once vibrant family home. My heart actually felt heavy with the sadness Grace had portrayed and I sighed as I proceeded to tidy the kitchen, rinsing the pots and placing them into the dishwasher before I strolled across the miles of hallway and curled on the gigantic sofa in the silent lounge.

Who the hell had been on the other end of the call?

* * *

I woke with a severe crick in my neck to darkness. I blinked as I tried to make out outlines and establish where I was as I swiped my phone screen and looked at the time. It was past 3am and I wondered why Grace hadn’t actually woken me and designated a room for me. There was no way I was picking my own. Not when I knew what had happened here. Knowing my luck, I’d end up choosing her parents room and she’d go all Uma on me.

A muffled grunting sound faintly filled the eerie silence of the house and I tipped my head to listen properly. Yes, it was definitely grunting and I pulled myself off the sofa and made my way towards it.

It grew louder as I neared a door down a corridor beyond the kitchen. The whole place was full of passageways and hallways and I hoped I would be able to find my way back if I’d ventured down the wrong one.

I slid the door open quietly and struggled to take a breath as I observed the exhibition that greeted me. My dick hardened instantly, the head scraping along the zip of my jeans and I knew I should’ve worn shorts as I clenched my jaw to impede the groan of lust that tried to leap up my throat.

Holy Jesus, it was a scene that even my imaginative dreams wouldn’t have been able to concoct and I fisted my hands to stop myself palming my cock to offer it some light relief.

Grace was dressed in just bra and knickers with her back to me, her tight supple body covered in a glistening sheen of sweat as she, what I can only describe as, beat the motherfucking shit out of a punch bag. Her long blond hair was tied to the top of her head but a few loose strands had fallen and were clung to her long slender neck with the weight of her perspiration. The groove of her spine seemed to dance as she swaggered around the bag, the dip at the base calling out mockingly and I licked my lips just to give my tongue something to do and bate its hunger.

Her arse, fuck me, what an incredible backside she had; it was pert, compact but yielding and I couldn’t remove my eyes as I tracked the bead of sweat that trickled down and disappeared beneath the white cotton covering those luscious cheeks. I’d always preferred sexy lacy numbers, but right now I cursed myself because those plain ordinary knickers were the sexiest things I’d ever laid my eyes on.

Her solid thighs were tight and firm and I couldn’t remove the image of them wrapped around my waist as I fucked her fast and urgently against the wall, making damn sure she kept those knickers on just so I could pull them to the side and thrust into her deep and hard.

But the image that would not bate and refused to fuck off; the vision that was causing the sizzle in my gut and the throb in my balls, was of her bound and tied. The arrangement of the rope crisscrossing her beautiful body and restricting her own stubborn control as she gave into me and allowed my complete domination and her perfect surrender, was blowing my thoughts into oblivion. The final pattern and design would show my unique blueprint across that delightful pale skin of hers as I claimed her.

She would hate that and the thought brought a wicked smirk.

“Help yourself,” she grunted.

My eyes widened, not with the realisation she was aware of my presence but that she was giving me the go ahead to touch her, or maybe she was mocking me.

“Um, what?”

She turned her head and looked at me over her shoulder. Her face was blank and her full red lips demanded my attention as the pump of blood through her system had plumped them exceptionally. “The equipment” she clarified. I didn’t show her my disappointment.

“Ahh, not really my thing at 3am, Beaumont but you carry on, I’m happy just watching.”

She rolled her eyes then continued to torture the bag, causing a severe constriction to my stomach when I realised just how hard she was pounding the thing.

I sat on the press bench and carried on watching her, my body sulking with the pressure in my veins. “Something upset you?”

I heard the hiss as she drew air between her tight jaws but she persisted with her mission to annihilate the equipment. “Did you want something, Mr Hamilton?”

The tone in her voice didn’t even falter as she pummelled savagely, her breathing slow and regular and I stared in awe. “Well, I was just wondering if I have a bed or do you want me to kip on the couch, sweetheart?”

She paused then gradually turned towards me. My eyes fluttered as her breasts came into view, fair enough they were covered in the same plain white cotton as the briefs but damn, I had a sudden new fixation on white cotton underwear. She didn’t strike me as the type to sport racy undies but strangely I found myself not actually wanting her to.