Chapter Fifteen
Mason
I push my chair back and fold my arms over my chest. “That’s not the news I want to hear. I’m disappointed, Carlisle. You know I don’t deal well with disappointment.”
I pay him too much money to deliver excuses instead of results.
Yet, Carlisle stands there, his dark eyes glittering with malice, and his arms hanging limply at his side.
Some days, I’m not sure why I keep him around.
Katia has more competence in her pinky finger than he has in his entire body.
While Katia is the brain and stealth, Carlisle is the brawn, and there’s no denying the men respect him. He keeps them in line. I have little patience for his arrogance and crude method of getting things done, but I know firing him isn’t an option.
I need Carlisle to stay in line.
Caveman ways and all.
Katia is many things, but she doesn’t know how to inspire the men, and most prefer to keep their interactions with her to a bare minimum.
Carlisle clears his throat. “Boss, if you’d just let me move in on the diner. I’m sure I can persuade the old man to make something up. Maybe he can say he decided to sell after all—”
I slam my hands against the desk and stand up so fast, my chair falls back with a thud. “I already turned down that idea, didn’t I? What the fuck did I say about testing my patience?”
Carlisle is playing a dangerous game, and I’m in no mood for it today.
Knowing London is right outside my doors, in a skimpy housekeeping outfit, with one of my bracelets on her wrist, makes me uneasy.
As does the knowledge that she’s already attracted the attention of several of our clientele.
I’ve been getting offers for her since the day she started working. Several have even raised their prices since then, and her wearing my bracelet hasn’t deterred a few of them.
Fucking pricks.
Don’t they know she’s mine?
If anyone is going to corrupt London and break down her barriers to introduce her to a world of unimaginable pleasure, it’s me.
The very thought of her being out there for everyone to see me makes my fuse even shorter.
I have half a mind to drag her into my office and lock the door, but I know it doesn’t work like that.
London has to come to me willingly, and while I’ve seen the mistrust in her eyes soften, we’ve still got some time before I have her where I want her.
I just have to be patient a while longer.
Carlisle blows out a breath. “Well, boss. Do you want me to have a chat with London, then? I’m pretty sure I can convince her it’s for the best.”
I have him pinned against the wall before the words finish leaving his mouth.
Carlisle doesn’t flinch as I place one hand on either side of his shoulders and give him a firm shake. Then I unsheathe the Glock I keep tucked into the waistband of my jeans and press the cold barrel under his chin. His eyes widen, and a thin sheen of sweat breaks out across his forehead.
For a long moment, neither of us says anything.
“Keep her name out of your fucking mouth,” I growl. “London is off-limits to everyone, especially you. How I handle this is none of your goddamn business. Do you understand?”
Carlisle gives a small nod.
I hold the gun for a while longer, a kernel of satisfaction coursing through me at the discomfort in his eyes. I lower the gun slowly, my eyes never leaving his face. I release Carlisle, and he straightens his back. Abruptly, I draw my hand back and then drive it into his stomach.
“Just because I’ve given you more leeway doesn’t give you the fucking right to question my decisions,” I tell him coldly. “You’re here to do as you’re told.”
Carlisle stands up again and curls his hands into fists. His eyes sweep over me, and for a long minute, I think he’s going to challenge me. Then, he lowers his head and mumbles his acquiescence.
“Find me another spot.” I circle back to my desk. “I expect to see results with the other default payments. Don’t get on my bad side, Carlisle.”
With one last dark look, I sit behind my desk and link my fingers.
Katia skirts past Carlisle on his way out, shooting him a confused look. Once he rounds the corner, she pulls the door shut behind her and spins to face me. “What was that about?”
“Business,” I reply in a clipped tone. “Any progress?”
“He’s got tight security for a mayor. Getting to him is going to be harder than I thought.” Katia lifts her chin. “He comes from money, so he can afford the private detail.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Since when was that a problem for you?”
Katia’s jaw clicks. “It’s not. It’s just going to be slower than we’d like.”
I groan my displeasure. “All everyone has is goddamn excuses. Find me a way to get to him and make it discreet.”
Without waiting for a response, I storm past her and fling open the door.
I’m halfway to the bar, my gaze fixed solely on Miss Deveroux, when I spot him. He’s standing inches from London, and his arm is resting on the wall behind her. When I turn in their direction, she’s trying to duck past, but he won’t let her.
I see red as I walk over to them, my hands balled into fists.
“Come on, sweetheart. I like the little innocent act you’re putting on. You and I can have a real good time.”
London swallows and tries to move past him again. “I’m not here to do that. I’m just here to clean. I’m sure you can find someone else.”
His other hand darts out so he’s got her trapped, and I see the fear flicker in her eyes. “What if I don’t want anyone else? I’m willing to pay, and you can clean me up all day long, baby.”
London’s eyes dart from him to the bar and back again. “Please. Just leave me alone.”
“I love it when they beg. You know what else I’d love? That plump little mouth of yours around my cock.”
I tap him on the shoulder, and before he’s finished turning around, two men drag him into a private room.
When I slam him against the wall a few moments later, with London looking on, he tries to free himself from my grasp.
Then he squints into the semi-darkness, sees my face, and the color drains from his face.
“Are you fucking deaf?” I slam him again for good measure, and he swallows. “You need to remember one of the cardinal rules of the club.”
House of Payne is a house of vice and debauchery, but I expect our members to uphold the few rules we have.
Especially when one of the cardinal rules is consent.
Any woman here is free to leave, and it’s also up to her whether to refuse a man.
London is no exception.
“I thought she was just playing a game.” The man’s voice rises toward the end. “I had no idea she was serious.”
I bare my teeth at him. “And what about the bracelet on her wrist? You know damn well what it means. Or are you fucking blind, too?”
“I…” His face is bright red as I press two fingers to the base of his throat. “I thought it was fake.”
“Bullshit,” I snarl. “You know exactly what it means; you just thought you’d get away with it.”
His eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “No, I didn’t. I—”
I throw my hand back and punch him hard enough to draw blood. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”
He opens his mouth to say something else, and I punch him again, causing him to double over. Then, I take a step back and kick him hard. As he lays on the floor, cradling his jaw, I realize that I’m in danger of losing control.
All I want to do, after I put his head through the wall repeatedly, is drag him to an alley and take care of him.
My fingers itch with the desire to take out my gun.
It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to give in to my baser urges.
London appears in my field of vision, and there’s a softness in her eyes I don’t like. It makes me want her even more, especially when her long, soft fingers close around my wrist. “Thank you. I appreciate the help.”
I yank back my hand and give her a cold look. “Don’t fucking thank me. I wouldn’t have to intervene if you focused on your job instead of prancing around looking like that.”
London lets her hand fall to her side and draws herself up to her full height. “You’re the one who gave me this uniform.”
“You know damn well that’s not what I’m talking about. Every man here wants to fuck you because you have that look on your face.”
London stiffens. “I can’t control what men think, or how they behave.”
“You can control the look on your face.” My every word drips with disdain. “I’m not here to play hero. Stop baiting the clients and stick to your job.”
London stiffens further. “I’m not baiting the clients—”
“Maybe next time I should just let one of them have their way with you.” My eyes sweep over her carefully. “They’re certainly willing to offer enough.”
London’s eyes narrow as she curls her hands into fists. “Screw you.”
“You’re going to let that bitch talk to you like that?” The man on the floor is glancing between us with a glint in his eyes. “You should let me have her and teach her a lesson. Trust me; I’ll make sure she gets it.”
I pull him to his feet and signal to the nearest security staff. “Get the fuck out of my club while you can still walk.”
He is dragged off, muttering and protesting.
I turn back to London, who’s still looking at me like I did her a favor.
As if I’m not entirely motivated by lust and primal need.
She needs to adjust her expectations fast, or we’re going to have a problem.
“About what I said—”
I hold up a hand, and she trails off. “If you ever speak to me like that again in front of a client, I will have to fuck that attitude out of you, and I won’t stop until you know better.”
London mutters something unintelligible.
I take a step in her direction, and she hesitates but doesn’t move. “I’m not the good guy here, but I am the guy who doesn’t like to share.”
London’s eyes flash with anger. “I’m not—”
I press a finger to her lips and drop my voice. “I’m not going to keep having this argument with you, London. It’s pointless.”
Her eyes widen, but she says nothing.
I step closer to her, and she moves away this time. A flicker of uncertainty and fear flashes in her eyes before she lifts her chin and purses her lips. For a moment, I wonder if the chase is already over.
London is waging an internal war she won’t win.
Each day that passes, her defenses grow weaker.
It’s only a matter of time.
But I can’t help the surge of disappointment that courses through me at the thought of it being over.
I want London to hold out a little longer. The longer she does, the better it’ll feel.
Watching her give in to her dark side will be so much sweeter if she’s still reluctant, and if she still thinks she can return to her old life.
I want to savor every minute of this, knowing that no matter how far she runs, I will catch her.
London thinks this game is meant to give her a chance, and she has no idea it’s designed for the thrill of the chase.
She will be mine, come hell or high water.
“Get back to work before I drag you into my office and bend you over my desk,” I whisper, my mouth inches away from her ear. London shivers, and another long moment passes between us. Finally, she inches past me, and it takes everything in me to let her go.
How can one woman cast such a heady spell on me?
Why does the thought of stripping away her innocence make me want her more?
When she glances back at me, a brief look passes between us, and I pause.
A surge of guilt rises through me, and I stamp it out, forcing myself to smile.
A moment later, London frowns and disappears into a crowd, leaving me with the blood roaring in my ears and the smell of her sweet perfume lingering in the air.
Scowling, I storm past a couple pawing each other in a hallway and stop outside my office.
Katia is waiting for me, an expectant look on her face. “Problems?”
I level her with a menacing look. “Everything is going according to plan. Don’t you have something better to do?”
I don’t need Katia lurking in the shadows and watching me.
Knowing she is always there used to make me feel powerful and high.
Now, I don’t like knowing that she sees me salivating over London like a lovesick idiot. I don’t want her to see how obsessed I’ve become, and how many of my waking thoughts are consumed by thoughts of London and how it’ll feel when I finally have her.
Unbelievable.
Why am I letting her get under my skin?
Whatever I feel for her is just sex and the excitement of knowing I’ll be the one to rip off her rose-colored glasses.
It has nothing to do with the way she looks at me or the softness of her voice when we’re alone.
Get a grip and figure out a way to scratch that itch, or else you’re going to keep being distracted.
Being distracted is a luxury I can’t afford and the quickest way to lose the power I’ve worked so hard to build.
I didn’t claw my way through the naysayers and disbelievers just to prove them right.
I am Mason Payne. I was born and raised to lead the Payne Empire, and no one, not even someone like London, will ruin that for me.
I’m just going to have to find a way to have fun while I wait.
Katia’s eyes dart down to the bulge in my pants and back up to my face. “Well?”
I yank the door to the office open and step inside. “Find me a way to get to the mayor. I don’t give a shit what it takes.”
With that, I slam the door in her face and cross over to the desk. After pouring myself a generous amount of whiskey, I lift the glass to my lips. On my third drink, I almost forget how it felt to stand so close to London, watching her lower lip tremble as she looked at me.
She wants me.
I can see it in her eyes.
Just say the word, kitten. Forget that idiot who’s waiting for you, and forget about what you think you know. I can make you forget your name if you let me.
I set down the glass with a little more force than necessary and sit behind the desk. For the rest of the night, I leaf through paperwork and stare at my laptop screen until my eyes burn. When the roaring in my ears becomes too much, I unzip my pants and allow myself to spring free.
As I sit there, I picture London’s deft fingers around me. I imagine her mouth doing all sorts of things, and it’s almost enough to make me explode. Abruptly, I stop and curl my hands into fists at my side.
Fantasizing about her isn’t enough.
I need the real thing, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.