Mikala's Passion (Pulse Series Book 2) (29 page)

BOOK: Mikala's Passion (Pulse Series Book 2)
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It wasn’t purely fear of nightmares that kept her awake, even if that was the biggest part of why she lay awake avoiding sleep, she was lonely.

Landon was one floor down, staying in one of the themed rooms so she and the club remained safe, but he wasn’t exactly cuddle-up material and his annoying snoring wasn’t what she needed.

If only Mason had manned up and admitted he wanted more and was willing to get rid of the loft, as selfish as that demand was, she would be spooned against his chest listening to his hot breath on the back of her neck with each exhale.  Was commitment such a terrible thing after all? It wasn’t like she was asking him to marry her, she just wanted to know that she was the one, his one and only and he wasn’t going anywhere.

She must have looked like a fool, she thought, down on one knee holding up two platinum braided bands between her tiny fingers.

The look of fear wiped across his face was insulting.

“Take it easy stud they’re commitment bands, not wedding rings,” she declared.

“What’s the difference?” he choked out, as he backed away like a fearful kitten about to be swallowed up by a nasty pit-bull.

“All I’m asking is for a commitment, a pledge that you won’t leave.”

“You don’t trust me?” he looked wounded.

When neither could answered and neither one could make eye contact, Mikala silently declared a stalemate. It was the first time in a long time that she truly wanted to cry, but held onto her tears making the excuse of something in her eye and needing to go to the washroom to get it out.

Now, a week later she struggled to get through each day without him as the void grew deeper and his absence from her life tugged without mercy at her heart.

Choosing not to use the elevator in case the motor woke Landon, Mikala crept down the back stairs and through the open door to the club. Behind the bar she rifled through bottles until she found her favorite vodka and poured herself a few ounces over ice, and then she remembered the bottle she had hidden in her freezer and laughed to herself. With the slow welcome burn of the vodka as it hit her empty stomach, she took the opportunity to admire her unoccupied surroundings, the club that meant so much. It was pleasingly tranquil in this room as the large faceless clock on the wall tick, tick, ticked. The night lights and the beams of laser lights across the main entrance gave the room an icy blue/green glow.

Chase had astonished her with the plans, and as she sat here alone in the dark admiring his creation, she felt life in the room, it had an atmosphere all its own. Mikala could have never imagined the place looking so elegant and refined. With all its hidden secrets and kinky backrooms, an escort service which was booking at an alarming rate, and the dance club that was lined up for a block each and every night, she should have been over the moon. So why was she finding it so hard to move forward while the rest of her life was passing her by at full tilt?

Mason.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs drawing closer to the open door sent her senses on high alert and she momentarily deliberated with whether to duck behind the bar or simply run, then she saw a sleepy Landon fill the doorframe.

“You okay, Mik?” Landon asked, stretching his arms over his head and taking hold of the header. His wife beater had hiked up exposing his midriff and beautifully sculpted abs, and Mikala let out a sigh thinking of Mason.

“Why are you up?” she asked, knowing full well he was on duty twenty four seven and tittered.

“Because I heard you walking around, I figured I’d find you here.”

“Nothing gets past you does it?”

He shook his head and smiled a beautiful white gleaming smile. “Something’s bothering you.”

“Oh hell,” she said, contemplating using him as a sounding board. “Can you keep a secret?”

“You know I can.” Landon came over and leaned his elbows on the bars edge.

“I think I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life,” she admitted.

His brows knotted as he pulled out a seat to get comfortable. “Are you looking for advice or an ear to listen?” he asked, watching as Mikala shrugged her shoulders, not sure what she was looking for. “Talk to me.”

“You know Mason and I have issues that stem from him leaving me, right?” she asked, making her way around the bar and sitting at his side. “Did
you
want a drink?” she held out her glass.

“Nope, continue,” he instructed.

“Well, I held that over Mason’s head for a long time and used it as a crutch for far too long and finally pulled the stick from my ass and forgave him. Now I think I did the exact same thing to him. Am I making sense?”

“I think so.”

“I fucked up, Landon. I asked him to give up everything for me and I walked out on him when he said he couldn’t, and now I’m afraid it’s over.”

“So talk to him. Tell Mase you made a mistake, ask him to take you back.”

“If it were only that easy,” Her chin dropped to her arms resting on the bar and she closed her eyes.

“Doesn’t sound all that difficult to me,”

“He won’t answer his phone, it goes right to voicemail, all my text messages go unanswered and I have no idea where he is.”

“That is a problem.” He had to agree. “I could call him for you if you like.”

“No.” she lifted her head and turned in her seat to face him sipping from her glass. “No thanks. I think I need to face reality and let him go, it’s not fair to either of us to hang on to something we can’t even define in words.”

“Love,” he softly whispered. She met his caramel brown eyes as he reached for her hand and clasped it between his with a serious force. “You two are so busy being angry that you can’t see what’s right in front of your faces. You’re so madly in love but so angry at the same time, something wonderful is being clouded over with your ugliness. What I’d give to have what you two have.

Landon wondered what it would take to get through to them, unquestionably a brain rattling session seemed in order. He took his phone from his pocket and sent a few texts while Mikala finished her drink.

“A little late for texting don’t you think?” she said.

“Yeah well, it was important,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “Back to bed, some of us need our beauty sleep.”

“Hey!” Mikala scolded him.

He tilted his head back and laughed. “Not you gorgeous…me.”

 

***

 

“Pull your head out of your ass, man,” Chase said. “She needs you, she wants you, for what fucking reason I’ll never understand, but here is this woman that loves you and wants you and all she’s asking is that you put her first, is that so hard to do?”

Mason was hammered, but Chase was positive that some part of him was listening.

When he had let himself into the penthouse, setting off the alarm in the process, Chase knew immediately that his friend was in dire need of sobering up and a shoulder to cry on. Eden had brewed them a pot of coffee and wished Chase good luck before returning to bed without so much as a hello to Mason, he was on her shit list and she would see to it that he was well aware of the fact.

Pouring a third cup of the strong black brew into a large mug, Chase set it between Mason’s hands and waited for him to drink before he continued to chew him out. “I can only imagine how she felt when you rejected her proposal. You may as well have reached into her chest and tore her heart out.”

“It wasn’t a fucking proposal.”

“She got down on her fucking knee, what else would you call it?”

Mason laughed, “A blow job?”

“Crude my friend,” Chase admonished. “Try and get it together while I make another pot.”

The phone in Chase’s pocket vibrated and he swiftly retrieved it, he saw Landon’s name and set the phone on the counter after reading it with a smile on his face. He added water to the coffeemaker and turned it on, then answered the text.

Tomorrow noon sharp, the conference room on the fifteenth floor.

“Let me freshen that,” Chase filled the mug in Mason’s hand, noting his appearance was somewhat sobering up, as he sat taller and brushed his hand through his hair. “What did she ask you to give up exactly?”

Mason rubbed his hands over his face, wrenched his head from side to side and took a mouthful of coffee swishing it around in his mouth. “The loft, Mik wants the whole house with white picket fence bullshit.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Chase asked, resting his hip back against the counter. “Keep your woman happy and she’ll make sure you’re happy, if you know what I mean.”

“It’s the loft, its home.”

Chase’s eyes narrowed as he read between the lines of crap Mason was feeding him. “You my friend are scared shitless, that’s what this is all about. You’re scared not only to commit, but to give up the old Mason and Mikala. What you had, instead of what’s to come. Are you that terrified of starting over?”

Mason scoffed. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Pointing a finger and stepping forward, Chase found himself having one of those ah-ha moments. “You can keep the memories you know, they stay right here,” Chase pressed his extended finger to Mason’s temple, “and here.” He pressed his index finger into Mason’s chest. “No one can ever take them away from you. Not me, not Eden, not Mikala. And not some stupid loft.”

“But we had it all there, we had a life, we planned our family, what about Charlie?” Mason choked back a tear, as he fought the tearing feeling of abandonment.

In an overwhelming moment of revelation, Mason concluded his biggest fear was abandoning Charlie if he left the loft. It was a morbid thought, he understood this, but he honestly felt that leaving the loft meant leaving Charlie.

“I can’t leave Charlie, I won’t abandon my son.” Tears ran down his cheeks.

“Charlie goes wherever you go. He’s locked in here my friend.” Chase rested his hand over Mason’s heart. “You want proof, have a look.” Chase tore open Mason’s shirt sending buttons careening across the room and both their eyes came to rest on the two little feet over his heart.

Chase pulled Mason in for a bear hug and whispered, “Concentrate on making new memories, start over, you’ll be happy you did.”

 

***

 

“Jesus, Landon, what time is it?”

“Ten thirty five and time to get up,” Landon said, shaking Mikala’s bed incessantly with both hands. “You have one hour to get yourself ready. You have a meeting at Dean Headquarters at noon, he said be sharp.”

“He who?” she growled, striking out a hand and missing him each time.

“Mr. Dean of course.”

“I have a meeting? I don’t remember a meeting, call him and tell him not today.”

“You’re leaving me no choice. Get up,” Landon warned.

“Unless you want to experience the pleasure of my left foot buried up your ass, you’ll leave me to get some more sleep.”

Landon’s laugh could be heard clean down to the club as he cheerfully set both hands between the mattress and box spring and tipped it up, Mikala rolled onto the carpet and sprang to her feet chasing Landon from the room.

“You have one hour,” he said, as his head peaked around the doors frame and then he closed it.

An hour and a half later, Mikala sat in the fifteenth floor board room at a table meant to seat twenty, practically swallowed up by its grandeur, and wishing to god for a cigarette and a bottle of vodka. She couldn’t imagine what the meeting was in regards to. After all, anything needing to be negotiated or discussed had always taken place at the club. Something must have happened, she felt sudden dread as she rose from her seat and swiftly moved across the room to look out at the busy street below, trying to steady her nerves.

She heard the door open and then close behind her, followed by a gentle click.

Mikala knew the hand that came to rest between her shoulder blades, its warmth and familiar pressure was like no one else’s. She twisted her head and met Mason’s soft blue eyes. He smiled and she pulled in a deep breath when he leaned over her shoulder and his lips caressed her cheek with such tenderness, like he had never kissed her before.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, in a breathless whisper.

“Seems our friends have locked us in here until we come to our senses, sugar,” he purred, with his lips to the lobe of her ear as she shivered.

“Did they?”

“We should talk,” he said, as his hands closed around her waist and his lips brushed her neck and collar bone.

“Should we?”

“We should, but I need to do this first.” His hands ran down her sides and under her hemline, tugging at it until her skirt was bunched at her waist exposing her bright pink panties.

Her hands reached back and fought with the buckle of his belt until she managed to unfasten it and slide his zipper down. She chose to act and leave thinking until later, what had to be said could wait.

He tugged at her panties several times only tearing away one side. Frustrated, she wiggled free of what remained of her panties and let them bunch at her ankle and spread her legs wider. She pushed her rear end against his arousal and arched her back with a telltale I’m- waiting push.

“Sugar, open your eyes,” he said.

“My eyes
are
open.”

“This window is clear, we can be seen.”

Raising her arm she brought it back around his neck and laughed, “I’m well aware of that.”

She heard him gasp at her admission and pushed the bulge in his pants into the cleft of her ass. He took her hands and lifted her arms over her head opening her palms onto the cold glass, with his other hand he pulled her hips back and spread her legs with the nudge of his knee.

Mason’s fingertips caressed her damp sex lips so gently that Goosebumps formed on her skin, and she quivered as if a cold stream of water had been poured down her back.

A tear of foil and moments later he forced the head of his cock between her folds and held it there. “Take me there,” he calmly ordered and she smiled pushing her hips back.

His hands clamped over hers as she stroked forward and back, gliding slowly at a torturing pace as she forced him deeper and he growled, “We don’t have all day, sugar, gotta pick up the pace before someone comes.”

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