Mason slapped his hands against his thighs. “You’re pushing too hard, dumbass. You ruined her Christmas plans, kidnapped her, and you haven’t given her an inch to breathe.”
“She doesn’t need an inch to breathe. Sheneedsevery inch of my cock.”
“Well, this conversation is clearly coming from a place of reason,” I muttered with a disbelieving scoff.
“James, I know you are worried about her, but this shit stops now. She is safe. She is getting the space she needs. We all know she’s in love with you, and she will come around, so give her some fucking time. And for the love of fuck, stop telling everyone how much of your cock you think she needs.”
“I’m not giving her more than today.”
Mason laughed, “You'll give her as much time as she wants, James, or I'm pretty sure she'll cut your balls off herself.”
“She will cut your balls off,” I murmured.
His eyes met mine. “Do you think he’s right?”
“I do. She’ll take them clean off.” I made a chopping motion to emphasize the point.
“Do you think she loves me?”
I sighed, “It’s not my place to say how Emma feels, but if I had to guess, I would agree with everything Mason said.”
“Fine.”
The rest of the car ride was quiet. Mason held my hand and ran his thumb repeatedly over my knuckles. It was a soothing gesture, but I wasn’t sure if he meant to calm himself or me.
We headed toward the city, but instead of meeting Hector at Mason’s office like we did last time, we veered toward the east side near the library and my old apartment.
Shock lanced me as we drove past my building.Mybuilding. I gasped, my hand flying to my throat as if I could stop my racing pulse from the outside. Mason gripped my hand tightly, pulling it away from my neck and placing our joined hands in his lap. He didn’t let go as we continued past.
I was still shaken as we pulled up to the curb. The few blocks in between did very little to calm my nerves. But when I looked out the window and realized where we were, I immediately forgot about my worries. This was the club where Mason fucked me in the supply closet.
“Why are we here?”
“This is Hector's club,” Mason answered as if this was common knowledge.
“That's how you knew where that closet was!?” I stared at him bewilderedly while his eyes raked over me, no doubt remembering how he bound my hands and fucked me over a supply shelf. It was an emotionally fraught night. The same night I found my apartment in ruin, and I saw his home for the first time.
“Not exactly, but that’s a story for another time. Are you ready to go in and revisit some old memories?”
James snorted.
“Did you tell him about that night?” my seldom-seen blush colored my cheeks at the thought that both James and Vick had either seen or imagined me in compromising positions. I was only beginning to get over my embarrassment and treat Vick normally again.
“Of course not!” his outrage relieved me, but it was short-lived.
“There’s not a lot of reasons for two people to disappear inside of a closet for half an hour, Claire.” James sniggered as we all stepped out onto the curb one by one.
The heat of my embarrassment helped fight off the glacial wind as we walked to the entrance. I would have run, but Mason and James acted so nonchalantly I figured it wouldn’t suit our public image if I made a mad dash and stumbled in shivering.
The club was closed, and all signage dimmed. The only thing on the door was a list of hours and specialty nights. Déjà vu swept over me as we stepped inside. Despite my very real memories, I didn't feel like they belonged to me, like dancing with Emma and then fucking Mason were someone else’s experiences.
The door closed behind us, sealing out the howling wind. The few bar tables were all pushed against the wall. An empty mop bucket rested beside them, and numerous boxes of alcohol lined the bar, waiting to be unpacked. My gaze drifted behind the gleaming wood and to the blonde polishing glasses.
Her beauty surprised me. Harsh smokey eyes topped off with a deep blood-red lip. I wasn't sure which feature fascinated me more. She looked both Mason and James up and down, her inspection investigative and not appraising. She gave me a dismissive glance, and I couldn't say I blamed her. I didn't look ready for a night clubbing at eleven am. “He'snotexpecting you.”
Mason pulled off his gloves, stuffing them into his pocket. His fingers moved to his buttons before he answered, “He is; we're headed back.”
A secretive smile curled her lips, “You're not. He hasn't told me he's expecting you, and you know I can't let you in without an appointment.”