Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
ACE
I press the call button and once again hear her phone go straight to voicemail. I know Morgan told me she updated Mrs. Copeland, but I still have that bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I stopped by her dorm to find it empty, and ran by the frat house to find it desolate as well. She must be at his parent’s house.
“Fuuuck!” I slam my fist against the steering wheel, the horn blaring in protest. She needs to stop dodging my calls and let me know she’s okay. I’ve tried, really tried to accept her relationship with him, but Cassie’s desperate plea for me to check on her keeps echoing in my head. That fucking bastard. Who the hell does he think he is, talking to Ainsley like that? My Ainsley. He’s controlling, manipulative, toxic as hell. I thought I was protecting her from some run-of-the-mill fuckboy—I had no idea it had gotten this bad. Listening to Cassie recite those texts she found on Ainsley’s phone sent me straight into a spiral of rage.
I return to the townhouse by late afternoon, and choose work to keep my mind occupied. I reach for my phone to shoot Denny a text letting him know I’m in town for a few days, and to reach out if he needs me. He responds almost immediately.
Denny
Hey Ace. If you're down to be at Sanctuary tonight, I could use your help with the masquerade party.
Me
Oh shit! I forgot that was tonight. Yeah man…I can head down there. I need to shower and shit, but can be there in a couple hours.
Denny
Thanks Ace. Mostly just working with staff to make sure things are running smoothly. Wally and I won’t be there until much later.
I don’t ask why the owner and his right hand will be late to the biggest party of the year.
Me
Sounds good man. See you later.
After I shower, shave, and style my hair, I enter my closet to grab club clothes. I button up a black long-sleeve dress shirt, leaving the top two buttons undone, and tuck the hem into a pair of black tailor-made slacks. Appropriate enough for the club, but laid back enough for my liking. Miss me with that tie bullshit. The black blazer I pull on fits as perfect as the rest of my suit. I glance in the mirror, smoothing a strand of hair back in place, and grab my keys to leave.
* * *
I get to the club before the party starts to make sure the staff is good to go. Working at the club is not something Morgan and I usually do. We work behind the scenes from home, and only come to the club for pleasure or meetings. This is a first for me. If I didn’t have a certain woman driving me crazy, I would have attended a party like this one as a member. She's ruined me for all other women.
I have zero intention of interacting with members tonight, so I hole up in the security room to keep an eye on things. It’s on the third floor, same level as Boss Man’s office is, and with me up here, the rest of security can focus on the club floors. Denny asked me to oversee the party until he shows up—not play fucking host. The staff knows where to find me if they need anything.
Someone knocks at the door. “Yeah?” I bark out with more force than I mean. The door creaks open, and the first thing I see is blonde hair and a long slender arm with long pink fake nails sliding around the door. It’s the hostess.
Fuck. What’s her name again? Lacey? Macey? Yeah that’s it, Macey.
“What’s up, Macey?” She looks at the floor, giggling uncomfortably. I am clueless as to why she's here.
“It’s Stacey,” she says in a meek voice. Oh fuck. I’m a dick, but she continues to walk into the office anyway.
“Sorry, Stacey. The last two days have been rough. What’s up?” I soften my tone.
“It’s okay. I was just checking to see if you needed anything from the bar.” She's moved so that she’s hovering over me, pushing her tits in my face. I’m sitting in the desk chair, so they're at perfect eye level.
" I'm okay, but thanks ." Her nails trail up my sleeve, her gaze heavy-lidded, full of intent. She’s trying to seduce me. It’s not working. Nothing against her—she’s sexy as hell—but my dick practically shrivels at the thought of anyone who isn’t Ainsley.
Jesus fucking Christ. This better not be the rest of my life. I’m never going to get a hard-on for anyone other than the one girl I can’t have? Bullshit!
“Are you sure? I can do anything you need me to.” I don’t push her away. Why should I? Ainsley is probably off fucking her piece-of-shit boyfriend as we speak. I haven’t been laid in God knows how the fuck long. I can do this.
Alright bud, get hard. We fucking need this. We need to get the girl of our dreams out of our Goddamn head.
I turn my office chair toward her while opening my legs wide. When my index finger points to the ground, realization dawns on her face. Lacey—shit, I mean Stacey—drops to her knees and starts unzipping my pants. There's only one thing that'll get my engine running, and it’s not the fake-tits blonde kneeling between my legs.
I lean my head back, close my eyes and focus on that night. The night she straddled me, sliding herself up and down until we were both coming on each other.
“Ah yeah baby, like that. Work the tip with your tongue,” I moan out. This is Ainsley, or at least that’s what the back of my eyelids are telling me.
She hums with her mouth on my cock, and the vibrations feel good.
Keep your fucking eyes closed, or your dick is going to deflate like Tom Brady’s footballs.
This chick has the worst timing, sliding her mouth off my dick with a pop. Why couldn’t she keep going? I feel her hands move up and down my thighs in a slow massage. This isn’t what I want. I need her to suck me off and leave. I’m not trying to act like an asshole, but it’s not like I invited her up here. She came on her own accord.
She lets out an obnoxiously high-pitched giggle as she stands in front of me, slowly taking off her clothes. No. This won’t be happening; I will not fuck this chick in the security office. Head is one thing, but more is off the table.
I stop her from continuing the awkward strip show.
“Listen, I’m on the clock, and I’m pretty sure you are, too. Let’s call it. I have no time to fuck you at the moment.” A look of embarrassment crosses her face, and I feel like an asshole, but this girl wasn’t reading the room. Not only that, but she isn’t a member. I don’t fuck non-members.
You'd fuck Ainsley, and she isn’t a member.
Ainsley is different, and I would never let her enter this club. Ever.
“Did I do something wrong? I could finish sucking your dick.” Macey, or whatever the fuck her name is, tries dropping to her knees again but I stop her.
“You did nothing wrong. I have a lot of shit to do tonight, with no time. It’s not you; it’s me.” Gah…did I really just say that? Fuck it, I just need her to leave.
“Oh okay, well find me later. Maybe we can pick up where we left off.” The desperation is dripping from her words.
“Yeah, maybe,” I say as I turn my chair toward the screen.
Thank fuck I brought my laptop. I sent the guy who usually watches the cameras downstairs so I could work. I may call him back up, so she doesn’t get any more ideas to ambush me with sex.
I check my phone for the umpteenth time, but still no word from Ainsley.
“Fuck!” I toss my phone down and dive into work. After scanning all the camera feeds, I shift my focus to the senator’s finances. We cleared the basic background checks, and Denny gave the go-ahead for his first private party. Still, it’s sketchy as hell that Denny would sign off on it happening the same night as the masquerade ball. When I asked him about it, he said the senator was adamant the date couldn’t be moved because of conflicting schedules with his guests. Denny claimed he could swing both. Said he could make it work.