“Jesus girl, what fucking romance novel did you fall out of? I said I slept with him, we are not back together. I was horny, we made a deal and he screwed me. I’m happy, he’s happy.”
“A deal,” Eden said, looking at her astonished, horror written all over her face. “Who in their right mind makes a sex deal?”
“Are you kidding me?” Mikala asked, remembering the contract that brought Eden and Chase together. “No one said anything about being of sound mind, my mind was horny. It’s been forever since a man slipped it to me. Night after night I’m surrounded by sexy hot horny couples and singles looking for a good time and it’s disturbing to be alone with no prospects. Pulse can’t run with an owner that’s dipping into the pond, if you know what I mean. Mason came back; he was ready and willing so I took it.”
“Crazy,” Eden snorted.
“Crazy? You and Chase had a contract.”
“We had no past Mik, there were no emotions involved when we made our agreement.”
The scowl on Eden’s face said it all.
“How sad does that sound?” Was all Eden said, surprising Mikala who remained on guard knowing there had to be more.
“Look, I just wanted to tell you before Chase did. It’s so not a biggy.”
The waiter appeared with the check clearing away their plates just as Eden was about to speak, giving her enough time to take a deep breath and regain some much needed composure.
Once his back was turned though, Eden leaned forward and asked, “Chase knows?”
“He kind of walked in on something at the club. Can we drop this now?” Mikala asked, pulling her credit card from her wallet. “Really, it’s only sex. Two mature adults engaging in harmless sexual release from time to time. Who’s it hurting?”
“Did you actually say that? Mik, this isn’t harmless sex. Someone’s going to get hurt and I’m afraid it’s going to be you. There’s too much history between you to be playing a reckless game like this. Either commit or get away from each other, this is a recipe for disaster.”
“I got this.” Mikala assured her friend with a pat on the hand to appease her.
The sky was overcast, threatening to open up and pour at any moment, the streets were busy and people hurried past in all directions as Mikala and Eden headed to the parking lot. Mikala fumbled around in the bottom of her purse for her keys, cursing herself for not getting them out when she was sitting in the restaurant. Eden’s hand clamped onto her forearm causing the keys to drop at her feet. Mikala followed Eden’s eyes when she saw the expression on her face and stood gaping at the two slashed tires on her car.
“What the fuck?” Mikala questioned, as she rounded the car only to discover the remaining tires had also been destroyed. Turning to Eden for answers, she found her frantically conveying their findings to the recipient at the other end of her cell.
“Chase and Mason are on their way. Who would have done this and in broad daylight? Surely someone would have seen something and called the police. We need to find witnesses.”
Mikala held up her hand to stifle Eden’s rant. “It was him,” she declared, without hesitation.
“Who,”
“That sick bastard that’s been terrorizing me. Jesus, Eden, now he’s taking it beyond the club. The fucker’s following me,” she said, looking around wild eyed at the harried street.
Minutes later Mason’s truck pulled up behind the car, the boys jumped from the cab and as Chase wandered the cars exterior examining the damage, Mason wrapped his arms around Mikala from behind and held his chin on top of her head.
“You think it was him?” Mikala asked, grasping his forearms allowing his hold to tighten. “I do.”
“Without a doubt,”
“He’s stalking me now isn’t he?”
Mason spun her to face him lowering his head so their eyes met. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, sugar, I protect what’s mine.”
She felt a flutter in her belly when she heard his declaration. As sugar sweet and alpha-male as it sounded, sending all kinds of butterflies and sexy to her lady parts, it also scared the ever loving bejesus out of her, she felt herself reluctantly drawing back.
Could Eden be right, she asked herself, was this a disaster waiting to happen? Was it a matter of time before one or both got hurt? Her heart couldn’t take another loss. She pulled from his arms and walked over to Chase, Mason allowed her to gain distance.
Mason’s arms dropped to his sides, his fists clench tight and his brows bound together as he caught sight of Eden staring at him. He could read that look, that look that said what-the-fuck-are-you-doing? He knew it well, had seen it in her eyes since the day she and Chase had picked him up at the airport and she spent the entire ride lecturing him on running away from life and failing to face it like a man. This was not going to be pretty, he thought as she took the first step toward him.
“Sweetheart?” he said, waiting like the calm before the storm.
“You know, I know,” she said, wrapping her arms around his large bicep. “Do you need me to tell you not to screw this up?”
His eyes trailed from hers over to where Mikala stood with Chase.
“And…” he prodded.
“And you know I love you, both of you.” Eden assured him.
“Yep,” He pulled his arm free and slung it lazily across her shoulders. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on hurting her, sweetheart. I have much bigger plans for Mikala. I’m gonna win her back…Can you keep a secret?”
Her nod wasn’t exactly the guarantee he wanted, nevertheless it would do. He couldn’t believe he was going to tell her this. He wasn’t one for sharing emotions or revealing heart felt feelings. Only twice in his lifetime had he opened up to a woman and let her know what was in his heart and Mikala was the only one he intended to ever do that with again. However, he wanted to set Eden’s mind at rest.
“I never stopped loving that woman, not for a nanosecond.”
“I know.” Eden leaned into him with a smile.
“Unfortunately this is the last cheque until the Reno is finished,” Mikala said, handing out envelopes to each staff member gathered in the bar for the meeting she called. “I was told this morning that the dance club should be ready to reopen in a week or two, so sit tight.”
“The club upstairs, when’s that going to happen?” Carl, Mikala’s lead bartender, asked.
Mikala turned to Chase for the answer, he took a step forward. “Bar any setbacks we’re looking at a few weeks yet,” he said.
“Another reason I wanted a meeting today is to introduce you all to my new business partner, Chase Dean. Get used to seeing lots of him around here in the future.”
Chase raised a hand and chuckled. “Nice to meet all of you but let me clarify. Once we’re back up and running, you can consider me more of a silent partner. I’ll be in from time to time but this is Mik’s business not mine.”
“That’s too bad!” A voice called from the back of the group causing laughter and applause. “We were looking forward to being hauled into the office!” More laughter ensued.
“Down ladies, he’s married, very married,” Mikala declared. “Any more questions,”
“Did they ever find out how the fire started?” Ricci, one of the line cooks asked.
Mason stepped through the group slapping his hand on Ricci’s shoulder before Mikala had a chance to answer. “Still under investigation I’m afraid. It’s time to call an end to this meeting so we can get back to putting this place together. The sooner the workmen can do their jobs, the sooner you can come back to work.”
After everyone had vacated the dance area Mikala roared forward. “That was plain rude, next time I’ll handle things myself thank you. Where do you get off,” Mason put his hand over her mouth moving close to her face to shut her up.
“There’s someone here to see you, sugar. He’s in your office and he doesn’t have all day to wait while you socialize.”
“Who’s so fucking important?” she asked.
“Do you remember Detective Blackstock?”
“From Eden’s nightmare?” she asked, remembering briefly the strange Detective that handled Eden’s case when her deranged ex tried to kill her and Chase. “I think so.”
“He’s your man and he’s waiting to talk with you,” Mason said.
Mikala headed in the direction of her office, pausing only to spin on her heals, placing her hands on her hips and asking, “Well, are you coming?”
“Sure thing, sugar, let’s go,” Mason said, with a smile.
His tough as nails woman needed him. She wasn’t going to come out and say it in those words, but he gladly accepted every bone she threw his way.
Opening the office door, she stared at the Detective as he stood rifling through papers on her desk. She did indeed recognize him the minute he turned and she caught sight of his dowdy appearance. His suit looked like he had slept in it for three days straight, and his unshaven face and cigar end hanging from the corner of his mouth made him look like a drifter from a back ally. Mikala so badly wanted to offer him a shower and bowl of soup, before sending him off with ten bucks tucked into his pocket. She got nothing, not a smile, not a nod, absolutely nothing from the man until he took a notepad and pencil from his breast pocket and licked the lead end to his tongue. Mikala gagged and Mason rubbed his hand up and down her arm for support.
“Miss Santino, Mr. Reed,” he said, as he read over something from the notebook. “No doubt about it, it was arson. Seems your admirer has skills. Have a seat.”
He motioned to the two chairs in front of Mikala’s desk and settled into her pink leather executive chair. The thought to buy a can of Lysol came to mind as she watched him take over her office as she and Mason sat down.
“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Mikala said, watching him carefully, ready to jump over the desk if he attempted to open any of her drawers.
“Don’t get me wrong, the moron’s no brain surgeon, but he is skillful. He used a slow burn setup to start the fire, kind of on the juvenile side, which leads me to believe we’re probably dealing with an amateur who gets his ideas from watching CSI type shows.”
“Slow burn, as in a heating device of some kind?” Mason asked.
“You’re familiar?”
“I have some training in bomb disposal. Dealt with a lot of that shit in Afghanistan.”
Blackstock gave him a nod of acknowledgment, and then continued on. “Cigarette and a matchbook,”
“Know it well,” Mason said.
Mikala sat shaking her head. “Care to share gentlemen? Because I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about.”
“A lit cigarette is placed inside the end of a matchbook. It burns slowly all on its own giving the arsonist time to escape without being seen. Once the cigarette burns down, it hits the matchbook and ignites and starts the fire. Usually there’s a pile of rags or newspaper under the matchbook.” Mason explained.
Blackstock cleared his throat to get their attention before continuing, “We may be able to pull DNA from the cigarette filter but don’t get your hopes up. It was perched above a pop can filled with Quat-Chem. One way or another that fire was going to happen, whether from the flame or the vapors, this guy meant business.”
“Quat-Chem?” Mason asked.
“It’s a bactericide we use to clean. It’s strong, has to be cut with water and has to be stored in special containers on its own, away from everything else.” Mikala said, sitting back and taking a deep breath. “He’s not finished yet, is he?” she asked.
“I would like nothing more than to assure you and put your mind as ease, but that’s not going to happen, so how about we have some coffee and go over the evidence, you can start by telling me who doesn’t like you.”
“Do I look like your fucking servant?” Mikala blurted out.
“Easy, tiger,” Blackstock said. “Ed, do you think you can get us some coffee?”
“Can do sir,” the young uniformed officer said, darting from the room.
“Sorry,” Mikala said.
“I get it. You’re scared as shit and a bit on the jumpy side. I’d be angry too if some nut job was trying to take away my livelihood. Let’s remember one thing, tiger. I’m on your side. So, will we get on with it?”
Mikala nodded and rested her elbows on the desk after scooting her chair forward. “Okay, where do we start?”
***
“What do you want for dinner, sugar?” Mason asked, leaning into the refrigerator, shuffling containers around on each shelf. “There’s steak or chicken, we can have a salad with it or pasta.”
“Nothing for me,” Mikala said, reaching past him and snatching a bottle of wine from the fridge door.
“That’s probably not smart on an empty stomach,” Mason warned, gaining himself a nasty eat-shit glare for his opinion.
“I don’t remember asking,” she said, filling a coffee mug that sat in the drying rack, to the brim. She leaned forward rebelliously slurping from the mug, while never taking her eyes from his.
Mason stretched out his hand swatting the mug into the sink. It broke perfectly in half and wine splashed onto the counter. Mikala gasped brushing droplets from her face. “What the fuck!”
“Enough is enough, sugar. You’ve been bitchy as fuck all day, won’t eat and booze isn’t the answer.”
“Well Doctor Reed, thank you for your diagnoses. I’m going to bed.” She turned away just as his hand clamped onto her wrist.
“Exactly,” Mason said, throwing her over his shoulder.
Kicking and screaming he carried her to his room and threw her teasingly onto the bed, she squealed and struggled to escape. “Why don’t you shut up and just enjoy, because this is going to happen,” he teased, mischievously.
Like wrestling with a wildcat, he still managed to have them both stripped naked in a matter of minutes and Mikala finally surrendered to a sweet calm.
Kneeling over her body on his hands and knees, he licked luxuriously over her breasts and neck and kissed a moist trail to her chin. Her breathing became more labored by the minute. He stared into her eyes drawing closer until the space between them almost didn’t exist. So close he could feel his own breath as it collided with her skin, his lips parted slightly, as he attempted to touch his mouth to hers, Mikala turned her face to the side closing her eyes. Mason’s lips touched her cheek and he stilled his pursuit.
She may as well have kicked him square in the nuts, because the pain he felt was as excruciating.
“Still want it that way, sugar?” he asked.
Mikala lay silently under him, the feeling of his hot skin burning into hers. She reached up a hand stroking it along his jaw. “Mason, please. I need this. I just don’t need anything more. We discussed the rules. You can’t change them in the middle of the game.”
“That’s what this is to you, a game?” Mason asked, as he started shaking with anger. He sat back on his knees causing a cold separation between them. “Fuck that.”
“Don’t be like that, Mason.”
“Look Mikala,” Mason started, a cold chill ran down her spine when he called her by her name. “I don’t play games and certainly not games like this.”
Mason leapt from the bed grabbing his boxers from the floor and slipping into them. He gathered up Mikala’s clothes threw them onto her naked body and turned to the door.
“Get dressed,” he said, walking from the room. “I have things to do.”
He slapped a few slices of ham and cheese onto a bun and grabbed a beer before sinking into the leather office chair behind his desk and turning on his desk lamp. Making sure not to notice her as she walked across the room and up the stairs to the hideaway, even though in his peripheral vision he saw every move she made, he stared at the blank computer screen. His heart constricted at the thought that maybe this was it, this was all there was, there would be no more. A cruel realization that too much had gone wrong between them and the scars were far too many to heal. A suffoca
ting feeling of hopelessness wrenched his gut.
“Mason?”
His eyes rose to find her standing in front of the desk. “Can I do something for you?” he asked, bringing the screen to life, a plan of the club appearing.
“Talk to me, Mason.”
“I am.”
“More than two words,”
“What do you want me to say?” he asked, his eyes well planted on his computer’s screen. “What do you want to hear, Mikala?”
“I want you to stop playing with that fucking computer for five minutes,” she said, slapping the laptop shut. “And stop calling me Mikala.”
“Busy here.” He opened the laptop and waited. “How about you pick a name and that’s what I’ll call you, anything I say seems to be fucking wrong.”
Coming around the desk she pushed him back by the shoulder turning him so she could nestle onto his lap. When he made no attempt to hold her, she took his arms and pulled them around her waist. She glanced at the laptop swiveling the chair to face them in its direction.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“The floor plan for Pulse,” he said, reaching forward typing something on the keys. The picture changed to a three dimensional view. “This is the view the security cameras are going to show,” he said, as he felt himself calming to her, he couldn’t help himself, she was his drug of choice and it soothed him when she sucked up to him. “When clients come in we’re going to get a clear view of their faces as well as see which direction they take, upstairs or into the dance club. The cameras in all the stair wells will be motion activated, no wasted hours of blank footage and every minute will be date and time stamped.”
“That’s awesome,” she said, smiling.
He was happy the ice princess was thawing.
“Show me more.”
She seemed to be captivated with what he was showing her and he was engrossed by the placement of her ass on his lap. He used both hands to type which pressed her closer to his chest, he was very much enjoying the moment of unguarded time together. She wasn’t trying to create a distance and he was happy to be making contact, even if it was with the material of his t-shirt she wore between them.
Mikala's Passion (Pulse Series Book 2) Page 10
