Chapter Fifteen
Mason
I storm into the office and throw open the door with such force that it crashes against the wall behind it. I stop in front of the decanter, pouring myself a generous amount and picturing Noah’s smug face.
I imagine letting him loose in the forest nearby and then hunting him down.
He needs to be taught a lesson, and I’m not sure why I haven’t done it yet.
He needs a few days in a damp basement with nothing but his thoughts for company and fear of the unknown gnawing at him.
I frown at the spatters of blood on my knuckles.
Make the call. You know you want to. All it would take is one word to Carlisle, and you could have Noah at your mercy in less than an hour.
I take a few more sips of my drink and mull over my options.
The door creaks open, and London appears in the doorway. Music spills in behind her as my frustration rises.
She will never forgive you if you do anything to him.
She stops a few feet away from the desk. Then, she pushes her hair out of her face and looks at me.
Maybe if you make it so London doesn’t find out.
I shove the thought away and set my glass down with a little more force than necessary. “Shouldn’t you be making sure Noah’s okay?”
London exhales. “He’ll be fine. He shouldn’t have pushed you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Are you telling me what you think I want to hear?”
“Would it help?”
I stare at her and say nothing.
Slowly, I down the rest of my drink, my eyes never leaving her face. Once it’s done, I stride past her and toward the door. In one quick move, the lock clicks into place, and I wheel around to face London.
The whole thing feels a little too familiar, but I don’t care.
“I am not going anywhere,” London continues, in a smaller voice. She takes an uncertain step in my direction and lets her hands fall to her sides. “No one is taking me away. When are you going to understand and accept the fact I am not leaving you?”
“Not yet.”
“Not ever,” London counters, her eyes flashing momentarily before she exhales. “I don’t know what I can do to make you believe me.”
I stare at her and say nothing.
“I know things have been hard, and I know there’s a lot going on….”
“Yes.”
London takes another step in my direction, her eyes never leaving my face.
“What’s your point?” I ask.
She covers the distance between us and reaches for my hand. “My point is you can trust me. We’re in this together.”
I glance down at our hands and back up at her face. “I want to.”
She wraps her arms around me and exhales. “You can.”
For a long moment, I hold her against me, terrified of doing anything else.
She feels solid and warm and far more real than anything else in my life, and I don’t like how it makes me feel.
I hate feeling weak and like at any moment she can be ripped away, and I’ll be left exposed, laid bare for the world to see.
I am not a slave to my feelings.
Slowly, I take a few steps back and let my eyes sweep over her.
“Take your clothes off,” I order.
London’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t react.
Then her fingers move to the button of her jeans.
She leaves them in a heap on the floor and steps out of them, revealing the smooth skin of her thighs.
Her eyes stay on my face as she unbuttons her blouse and lets it fall next to the jeans on the floor.
When her fingers hover over her bra, I nod brusquely, and she unhooks it.
Her breasts spill forward, and the blood pounds in my ears.
London hooks a thumb through her panties and pulls them down.
When she’s done, she straightens her back and lets her arms fall to her sides as I drink her in.
Inch by glorious inch until my eyes move back up to her face.
Even the sight of her body, normally enough to drive every rational thought out the window, isn’t enough right now.
I still want to hunt Noah down.
I still want to make him pay for not leaving well enough alone.
It’s taking every ounce of self-control I have not to drag him back here and make him watch us.
Suddenly, all I can see is Noah hovering over London in her father’s diner, his fingers gliding over her body.
I blink, and I can see the gleam in her eyes as Noah peels her clothes off and lays her out on the counter.
My heart is still hammering as I clench my hands into fists and remind myself to get a grip.
No one, least of all a pathetic coward like Noah, can make me lose control.
“I didn’t know he was going to be at the club.” London’s quiet voice slices through the silence. “Katia told me you wanted us out of the house for a few hours.”
“I did.”
London clears her throat and shifts from one foot to the other. “Okay, so logically, how could I have planned something when I didn’t even know we needed to leave the house?”
“Fuck your logic.”
London’s eyes flash. “Well, you can’t be pissed at me. I tried to get him to leave—”
I bridge the distance between us, and the rest of the sentence dies on her lips. “You need to learn when to shut up.”
London snaps her mouth shut and stares at me.
“Bend over the desk,” I say into her ear. “Don’t move unless I tell you to.”
After a brief hesitation, London braces her arms on either side of the desk and turns, so her ass is in the air. I wrench the nearest drawer open and pull out a whip. Then, I run my fingers along the tip and roll my shoulders. It makes a loud cracking sound as it collides with her bare skin.
She brought this on herself. She knows who you are, and you’ve made it clear how you feel about Noah.
“I will not be made a fool of,” I say into the back of her neck. I wind my fingers through her hair and tug. “Not in my club or anywhere else.”
London’s breath hitches in her throat.
“You are mine, and you would do well to remember that.” My hand connects with her bare behind. London jerks against me, but I tighten my grip on her hair so she can’t move. Then, I press myself against her back and exhale.
Abruptly, I spin her around, so she’s facing me.
London’s face gives nothing away as I cup her face in my hands and release the back of her neck.
She already has too much control over you. You shouldn’t give her any more.
It doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself otherwise, I already know what I’m willing to do for her.
London has no idea just how far gone I am, and I wonder if that’s for the best.
Figure out a way to get yourself under control before it goes badly for both of you. London walked away from Noah. She needs you to do what needs to be done to keep you both safe.
I dig my nails into her shoulders and yank her toward me.
A gasp falls from her lips seconds before my mouth descends on hers, hot and unyielding.
Desire floods every part of me, prompting me to pull her closer.
She drapes herself over me, and groan as one finger stays in my hair, and the other traces a path down my chest. London fumbles with my belt until I hold both her hands tightly. Her back hits the desk, and I pause to hoist her up before settling between her legs.
I can already smell how much she wants me.
Fuck.
I want to lose myself in her for days on end.
London whimpers as I tug on her lower lip, and then plunge my tongue into her mouth.
Suddenly, her fingers are grasping at my clothes and trying to tug them off.
I grunt as she whips my belt off, and splays her fingers over my stomach.
I wrench my lips away and pepper her neck with kisses, nearly losing control when she begins to rub herself against me.
Jesus fucking Christ.
She has no idea what she does to me, or how dangerous it makes her.
It’s why they took her. They know she is the key to your undoing.
London pries my shirt free. Her eyes are half-closed, and there’s a hint of color on her cheeks. A few wisps of hair are matted to her forehead, and her chest is rising and falling unevenly. Her eyes fly open the rest of the way when I step out of her embrace and leave a wide berth between us.
“Get dressed.”
London blinks, myriad emotions dancing across her face. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” I tell her. “Katia will escort you back to the house.”
London’s back is ramrod stiff as she pulls on her clothes. Then, she pulls her hair into a ponytail and shoots me a wounded look. I resist the urge to meet her eyes and instead turn to the fire and study the flames.
A few moments later, she brushes past me, and I ignore the need to reach for her.
To pull her against me and take her against every surface of this room, loud enough for the entire club to hear.
It’s what we both need, but I won’t allow myself that release.
I hate the look in her eyes, almost as much as the little show I made her put on, but I know it’s necessary.
For both of us.
I can’t let her have complete control over me, not now, not ever.
Carlisle appears in the doorway moments after London leaves.
I step behind the desk and motion to him.
He pauses to shut the door and crosses over to me.
Then, he reaches into his jacket and places an envelope on my desk.
I glance between the envelope and his face before I sit down and reach for my drink.
“Speak.”
“Michael Everett and Lance Fitzpatrick have been sent out of the country,” he begins. “Something about business overseas that needs tending to.”
Shit.
They’re trying to recruit more allies.
I wonder if my stunt at the dock fixed whatever fracture they had.
Goddamn it.
“I’ve reached out to a few of my contacts abroad, but we have a bigger problem on our hands.” Carlisle gestures to the envelope. “I got a lead on who hired the contract killer, and I think you’re going to want to take a look at that.”
With a frown, I pull the envelope closer and rip it open.
Inside are dozens of pictures of Noah, many of them with Michael Everett and Lance Fitzpatrick, together and separately. A chill races up my spine as I leaf through the pictures before spreading them across my desk. I push my chair back with a screech and stand.
Fuck me.
“What’s the connection here?”