Four #2
“Because I ate a muffin in it this morning and made a fucking mess of it. Besides, it’s my fucking car.
If I want to get the damn thing detailed every other day, I bloody well will.
” I can’t help the frustrated tone; after sitting up all night watching Alyssa as she slept on the couch in my office, I’m too damn tired to care.
“You don’t even like muffins,” Dean unhelpfully adds.
“Remind me again why you’re here?” I give him a death glare that would make most men shit themselves. Not him though. Dean has been one of my best mates since the beginning of high school. I may employ him as my head of security, but he’s more than that—he’s family.
“I’m here, arsehole, because someone had to give Ella a ride home from the club last night when I realised you weren’t coming home.
Bray wasn’t here either, so I stayed the night so she wouldn’t be left here by herself.
” At my raised eyebrows, he quickly adds, “On the couch, I slept on the fucking couch.” He points towards the pillow and blankets that are still spilled out on the couch.
“Thanks for that, but that doesn’t explain why you’re still here?
” I run my hands through my hair, not even sure I care why they’re here.
“That’s easy,” he says with a huge-ass smile on his face.
“Bray here rocked up this morning. When we noticed you didn’t come home last night and still weren’t home this morning, we got busy figuring out where someone would have buried your sorry ass, so we could go dig it up and give you the burial we thought you deserved.
Seeing as though we couldn’t for the life of us think of any other reason you wouldn’t have come home, or answered any of our thousand calls or texts. ”
He’s right. I have ignored their calls and texts all morning.
Not wanting to explain myself, I just grunt out, “Last I checked, I’m a grown-ass twenty-eight-year-old man, and I sure as hell don’t have a fucking curfew.
I’ll see both you fuckers after I’ve had some damn sleep.
” Without looking back, I make my way to my room before locking my door behind me.
I strip off and climb into bed. I almost moan at the thought of getting a few hours’ sleep and close my eyes.
After lying there for fifteen minutes with thoughts of Alyssa stuck in my head, I realise that sleep is the last thing on the mind of my cock.
I reach into the bedside table and pull out a tub of lube.
Squeezing some onto my hand, I reach down and give my cock a tight, slow pull.
Just this simple touch sends shivers down my spine.
With thoughts of Alyssa, I pull a few more times, thinking of her on her knees, those blue eyes looking up at me as she slowly takes my cock all the way into her mouth, right to the back of her throat, sucking as she shallows her cheeks on her way back up.
At this, I moan out loud. With a few more tugs and her name on my lips, I come hard, all over the fucking place.
Shaking my head at the thought of how quickly I just came to the thought of Alyssa, like I’m fucking fifteen years old again, I get up and have a quick shower before climbing back into bed and crashing.
Looking at my watch, I see it’s nine thirty.
I’ve been sitting here, stuck in my office with Dean and Bray, since seven o’clock.
Let’s just say the fact that the muffin crumbs in the McLaren were all over the passenger’s side did not escape Bray’s notice.
For at least thirty minutes, I had to listen to both him and Dean give me shit about letting some chick, as they called her, eat in my car.
I let it slide and refused to give them any more ammunition against me.
Now we’re going over tonight’s plans. We have a new, up-and-coming band called Cyrus coming in to play live for the first time tonight. I’ve given them a thirty-minute time slot. On a Saturday night, one of the busiest nights at my club, that’s a fucking generous amount of time.
Dean and Bray are arguing over how many bouncers we will need to surround the stage to prevent chaos tonight, when a knock at the door stops their argument. “Come in,” I call out.
Caitlyn, my PR manager, struts in and looks me up and down before pasting a smile across her fake-ass lips. “Zac, it will be a great night. We’ve had a lot of positive feedback from the Cyrus promotions. We’re expecting a packed house by ten thirty tonight.” She looks at me expectantly.
Does she expect a fucking gold sticker for doing her job?
Ignoring her, I turn to Dean. “Have you briefed the security team on the band? I don’t want any issues tonight.
If we have a full house by ten thirty, security needs to be on point.
I want the boys at the door double checking IDs.
We had a group of three underage girls make it through last Saturday night. That shit does not happen again.”
Dean stands up, ready to head out. “Sure thing, boss. They’ve all been briefed—no one makes it close to the band.”
Before he makes it to the door, I stop him. “I have an errand to run; I’m leaving at 10:30, and should be about an hour give or take. I want you to double check everything. Bray will help,” I provide, pointing at Bray.
All three look at me like I’ve lost my head, probably because I have. I’ve never left the club to run any errands on a busy Saturday night before. Caitlyn walks over to me, running her hand down my arm as she tries to purr.
“I’ve set the band up with a table on the VIP floor before and after the show.” Looking down at her hand on my arm, I back away from her reach. It has always irked me whenever she tries to touch me, but tonight it just feels wrong.
I shake the feeling off before I dismiss her to get her out of my fucking office.
“That’s great. I want you out there to greet and meet, mingle for a bit, and make sure they’re comfortable but not too bloody comfortable.
They’re here to do a job, not have a free party.
” I walk over to the door, holding it open for her.
Looking pointedly at her, I clear my throat.
She eventually gets the hint before attempting to recover. “Sure thing, boss. I’ll see you out on the floor later,” she says as she passes through the open door. I don’t reply before shutting it right behind her.
Bray and Dean are both still standing there with shocked expressions stuck on their faces. “What?” I demand, looking from one to the other.
Bray responds first. “What the fuck kind of errand you got to run on a Saturday night, bro?” He raises his eyebrows in question.
“Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I’m picking Alyssa up from work and giving her a lift home.”
They both physically gasp before pissing themselves laughing. Once they’ve recovered, Dean inquires, “What kinda job does this chick have that she’s working till eleven o’clock at night? Don’t tell me you fell in love with a stripper, man.”
I know he’s joking, but that doesn’t prevent the pissed off feeling boiling up inside me.
“First,” I say pointing at him, “her name is Alyssa … Alyssa.” I repeat her name for emphasis; sometimes these dicks can be daft.
“She is not just some chick. She has a name—next time, fucking use it. Second, she’s a goddamn nurse.
You know, a professional—smart and uses her brains, not her banging body, to make a buck.
And third, I sure as fuck have not fallen in love with anyone.
” I almost gag at the word. I’ve never been in love and don’t think I ever want to be.
Fuck that, I’ve seen that shit and it never ends well for folk like me.
Bray looks at me, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Okay, bro, whatever you say, but just answer me this one thing.” He pauses, thinking he can add dramatic suspense.
I wait him out, not giving him the response he’s seeking; he eventually asks anyway, “Why are you picking up Alyssa and driving her home?” He adds a lot of emphasis to her name and I can’t help but smile when I hear it.
I pick up my wallet and keys from my desk, pocketing them before turning back around and making my way to the door.
Just before I open the door, I reply, “Because if I don’t pick her up, she will catch a bloody train home, and I don’t want her catching a fucking train at eleven o’clock at night.
” I hold the door open for them to follow me out and lock the door behind me.
Just as I’m thinking they’re both going to drop the topic and get on with their jobs, Dean smirks at me.
“And why do you think it is that you don’t want some girl—sorry, Alyssa—you don’t want Alyssa catching a train at eleven o’clock at night?
” he questions as he notices the pissed off look I’m sending his way.
Shaking my head, I don’t answer him as I walk away, yelling at both of them, “I’ll be back. Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone, will ya?”
With that, I make my way out the back to the carpark. I want to make sure I have enough time to pick Alyssa up something to eat. I have a feeling she hasn’t eaten much, if anything, since that muffin this morning.