The NSC Boxset: Heart of Stone (203 page)

BOOK: The NSC Boxset: Heart of Stone
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“I wanna fuck you until you pass out, until you beg me to never leave your sweet pussy, but I think we’re near to landing, baby. I’m not quite sure the pilot would circle around, even for us.”

I smiled unconsciously, thoroughly agreeing with him but the idea of it sounded good.

He slipped off my knee and righted his clothing before he dropped to his knees before me, ignoring the fact that Chris was stood in the doorway waiting for us to finish.

“Paola is meeting us off the plane. I’m here, okay? I’m right by your side Ava, and I will not fucking leave it.”

I drew in a steadying breath, the notion that we were nearing our destination kicking my heart in the shins as a lump formed in my throat. I nodded but didn’t reply as Mason turned to Chris, “We’re ready” he said bluntly.

He pulled my belt around me and clipped me in as Chris nodded once and turned back to the front of the plane.

Mason’s fingers twisted in mine and he lifted my knuckles to his lips, giving them a soft kiss as he squeezed tightly. “Remember Ava, you’re strong but if you’re not, then I’ll be strong for you.”

I sucked on my lips, forcing back the tears that threatened but nodded briskly. “Good girl” he whispered before I turned back to the window and watched as we descended through the clouds and back to earth, all the time wishing George could make the same journey.

Chapter 17

Mason

GOD, THIS BEAUTIFUL woman beside me was the strongest most amazing creature ever to grace this shit excuse of a living orb. Her strength and grit as she took control and helped Paola through the grief of losing the love of her life astounded me.

Paola, even through her sorrow, had arranged most things. A car was waiting when we landed and had taken us straight to the hospital where Ava had refused to see George, saying she wanted to remember him as he was, smiling in her memories and after visiting him myself, I wish I had heeded her acumen.

The Portuguese red tape we were trying to fight through was utter bullshit and I could see the strain of it cutting through my beautiful wife’s bright green eyes, they were dull and tired.

We were now back at George’s house and Ava’s tiredness was evident on her pale face, her eyes were bloodshot and her lips had lost their pink tinge; my chest ached at the sight.

I palmed her face and directed her gaze to me as Paola watched my wife’s slight antipathy with a frown. “Ava” I warned as I felt the faint resistance at my move, “Baby, why don’t you go and have a nap. Paola and I can see to things from here.”

Her eyes flicked to Paola who nodded in agreement, “Of course, Ava. I have to visit the British Consulate to register George’s . . . his . . .”

Ava nodded and took a gentle hold of Paola’s hand, “Are you sure you don’t want me to do it, or at least come with you?”

“No, no, I need to do this, Ava. I need to . . .” She didn’t finish but stood abruptly and headed out of the front door, her shoulders sagged and low but her chin was still high. She had been fighting her emotions in our company since we had arrived and her pain made me consider just how much it would kill me if anything were to happen to Ava. I would follow her, simple. I knew I wouldn’t be able to breathe without her anyway.

I stood and turned towards Ava, her lips lifted slightly and her eyes softened as she gazed at me.

Oh yeah, she stilled loved me, even though she hated me right now, she still loved me with the same damn potent, sometimes excruciating, intensity that I loved her with.

I knew, to the marrow of my bones and the essence of my soul that our love would survive the wrath of the Devil, it was one of those rare connections that fairy–fucking–tales were made from; not that I believed in sunshine and rainbows, hell our eight years had consisted of lightning bolts, tornado’s and fucking heavy duty storms, but fuck me if we hadn’t pulled through it.

We were made of fucking iron, an element made from the bloody God’s, just for us, just for our love to endure. We owed God, a lot didn’t, but Ava and I, we owed him our lives for building us from steel and fortitude.

Her eyes locked on mine as I bent into her, slid my arms under her and carried her up the old wooden steps, pushing the bedroom door open with a foot before sitting her on the edge of the bed.

She lifted her arms when I gave her a slight nod and I gripped the hem of her pretty pale green dress and raised it over her head.

Her hair fell in clusters around her shoulders and across the pale cream lace of her strapless bra and as the sun streamed through the window and caught it, the golden glow made her mass of copper curls appear to be on fire, and her pale skin flush.

Fuck! My wife was fucking created by Aphrodite, hell, she was Aphrodite. As I said before, I owe God everything for bringing her to me that day eight years ago.

I wouldn’t let her go, I wouldn’t let her bounce off my untruths and renounce our relationship.

No—Fucking—Way. She needed to know, she
had
to know.

“You know you’ll always be mine, Ava” I whispered as I traced the
‘Mrs Fox’
tattoo inked across her collarbone with my fingertip. “This ink right here tells you that, it tells everyone that. You will never be unchained baby, you’re tied to me. Our souls are so fucking entwined that they’re welded into a single element. One soul with two essences.”

She didn’t speak as I reached around and unhooked her bra, releasing her heavy breasts as my gaze dropped to her pebbled nipples. A small moan rumbled through my chest and my cock hardened as Ava’s chest heaved with her deep breaths.

She was aroused; I could smell it scorching from her but she didn’t need this now, she needed reassurance and solace, not a quick bang between the sheets; her heart needed care and reinforcement not the pounding a fuck would give it.

I lifted her slightly and lay her across the bed, pulling the plain cotton sheet around her waist, leaving her breasts free in the heat of the room. “Dream of me, baby” I whispered against her forehead as I placed a gentle kiss and the flutter of her eyelashes whispered my cheek. “I’ll be just downstairs.”

I moved back but her fingers wrapped around my wrist and held me still. For a moment, she just gazed at me with a slight narrow of her eyes but then she sighed, “Why, Mason?”

I clicked my tongue and drew in a heavy breath, trying desperately to reinforce my heart for my honesty, “Because I didn’t want you to know, it’s as simple as that.”

“But,” her teeth pulled her bottom lip in as she tried to find her next words. “I’m your wife, Mason. Did you . . . those girls on your sofa . . .”

“No, none of them, Ava. Never . . . there’s only been you, baby. I know it hurts but your belief will extinguish that pain. They were just there for an interview, Ava, nothing more.”

She shifted on the bed and a deep frown tainted her stunning eyes, “Mason, I have never been to an interview where two girls were fucking on a sofa.”

I smiled slightly, it was involuntary and without cruelty. “Ava, the sex
was
the interview. I know it’s hard and it’s about time I started being honest, even if I know it will hurt you . . .” I pulled in a lungful of air and swallowed in fear before I blew out that same breath. “Baby, in my line of work I have seen maybe . . . a hundred or so girls having sex. Some of them good, some of them bad, some of them fucking downright dirty but none . . .
none
ever got a rise, ever even got a twitch from me. There has only ever been you in the last eight years. Ava, you blow my fucking mind and that’s the god’s honest truth, baby. Fuck, your body haunts my dreams, Ava. It beguiles me; there is no way anybody else could ever do it for me after you. Sex . . . making love with you . . . it’s like God created the act just for us, baby. Just—for—me and you. It’s that fucking simple.”

“And Rebecca?”

There it was, her main concern, the optimum cruelty I could have ever bestowed upon her. It was evident in the etching of her face how having Rebecca beside me had hurt her, this one lie being the one that had broken the camel’s back, the one that had split the binding between us.

“I . . . We need time for that conversation. Honesty and openness, baby and right now, you’re too tired but I promise, tonight, tonight we have this discussion. It’s too hard for now, okay?”

The line of her mouth tightened and her eyes darkened. “Ava?” I said, maybe a little too harshly but she relented and nodded.

“Well don’t expect me to like your honesty and openness, Mason. You do realise that don’t you? Even in your need for atonement and empathy, I can’t promise that.”

That statement and the way she said it cut deep but I nodded once, understanding her feeling of betrayal. “I understand. Sleep now and I promise an explanation later.”

She nodded more firmly, her heart conceding but her soul denying. “I love you, Ava.”

“And me, you” she whispered in return and even after eight years those simple words still shunted my heart and tore through my veins.

Fuck, I fucking loved her.

Too much? Always and forever. Entirely and wholly.

Pulling the bedroom door to a near close, Ava still apprehensive with being shut in completely after being held by Dane, I exhaled the breath that I had been holding.

Watching her face as I had lifted her dress over her head had put an already potent strain on my dick, never mind when I had released her stunning tits from her bra. Fuck, I needed her; I needed to sink so far inside her I felt as though we were one. A single fucking being that fucked forever.

Fuck!

I poured a Poncha, a traditional Portuguese alcoholic drink made of honey, lemon and other fruity crap, but it hit the spot, the slight burn settling the raging torrent in my gut.

I was dreading the conversation that was deterred until later. I knew it was needed but that didn’t mean I was looking forward to it. It would either end our relationship or at the very least hurt it. The fact that I had lied to my wife, my little warrior, for eight years hurt me as much as it hurt Ava but I had been too fucking selfish, too caught up in what would happen once she knew, to be open and truthful.

A phone trilled an alert tone and I glanced towards Ava’s bag, realising it was coming from there.

I glanced towards the stairs, wondering if I should take a look to see if it was important. Hell, I was the one holding secrets not Ava, she had never held truths from me; I was the fucking idiot that did that.

My gut seared when I read the name on the screen.
Kade.

Taking another glance towards the upper floor, I swiped the screen and grit my teeth as I read.

Kade:

Hey, I heard what happened. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. If there is anything I can do, you know where I am. x

Oh, there’s nothing you can do arsehole.

I managed to hold back the growl in my throat as I noticed their conversation spanned a few months.

Wow, she had been in contact with him for months, not just lately. Even though their conversation throughout the whole of the texting was innocent, it didn’t stop the burn in my stomach. The jealousy and anger bubbling under the surface took my breath from my lungs and turned it to steam as it left my mouth.

She knew how I felt about the prick, yet she had been going behind my back and talking to the cunt for fucking months.

Jesus fucking Christ!

Hitting the back button I perused her other text contacts. All were innocent until I hit an unknown number and my knees buckled as I tapped the message open.

Holy fucking hell!

There were 6 photos, all of them showed Rebecca and myself in Allure. One even showed her with her hand on my arm, looking up at me with her wide fuck me eyes.

“Shit!”

They were dated three days ago. Why the hell hadn’t she told me? Why had she kept these hidden? The sender obviously hadn’t known Ava already knew, otherwise this little manoeuvre would have been so damaging, it would have killed her all over again. At least she had found out for herself about me and Rebecca. At least she had seen with her own eyes that Rebecca and I had been fully clothed and not interacting in any way possible.

But fuck, I needed to find this bastard and fucking quick before he did any more damage to my already broken and ravaged marriage.

Chapter 18

Ava

I COULD HEAR his heavy breathing before I even opened my eyes.

What had I done now? After eight years I knew every single implication each different breath meant and listening to him now, I knew it was an angry breathing.

Wonderful.

I opened my eyes and focused on the window for a while, my back to him until I was ready to let him know I was awake.

“Turn around.”

It seemed he knew the signs of my own breathing as well as I knew his.

Inhaling deeply I turned towards him, leaving my body horizontal on the bed, the sheet low on my hips revealing my breasts fully and my nipples erect, a result of the dominance in his voice.

Just because we were married didn’t mean I didn’t know how to play him.

His eyes were dark as he fought with a fierce rage, the sight clamping my stomach and pulling my brows together in a frown. “Mason?”

He stood, a fist held tight beside him and the other hand on the nape of his neck, the sight of his anger brought me upright in bed. Something had riled him and I couldn’t for the life of me think what it was.

He stalked towards me, one firm thigh rippling alongside the other as he approached. His jaw was tight in a stern line and his chest heaved with each substantial pull of air.

His fingers gripped my chin and titled my head back until my neck had no more to give, my face directly in front of his furious one.

“Did you fuck him?”

Okay, I was not expecting that, whatever it was, and I frowned deeply, “Who?”

He scoffed slightly and I tried to tip my head in question but his hand held me firmer, refusing me any give what so ever.

“Who? Who? Shouldn’t your answer have been an immediate no?”

“Mason . . . I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

He bit his lower lip as he held a phone screen to my face so close I couldn’t focus on whatever he wanted me to look at. I couldn’t move my head back to adjust it either because of his hold so I raised my hand, took a glance at him to let him know what I was doing, before I gripped his hand and moved it back slightly.

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