Mikala's Passion (Pulse Series Book 2)

by Rose, Jennifer

  After spending most of mealtime shuffling her food around on the plate, she shoved it off to the side and belted back her third Blue Martini, as she stared down Mason sitting directly across the table. Just as the waitress brought the next round of drinks and cleared the table, his eyes finally met hers and he smiled. She gritted her teeth and growled.

  “Are you okay, sugar?” Mason asked.

  “Never better,” she replied, taking the lemon curl from the rim of the glass and adding it to the growing pile of fruit and cocktail napkins.

  “Did I do something to piss you off?” he asked.

  “Of course you didn’t,” Eden answered, giving Mikala an elbow to her side. “Did he, Mik?”

  “Another Martini here,” Mikala ordered, handing over her empty glass to the waitress as she rose to her feet. “Actually, make it a double. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Eden said, starting to rise.

  “No,” Mikala snapped, “You stay there I won’t be more than a few minutes.”

  Mason watched as she veered from the direction of the washrooms and headed out to the roof deck.

  The sun was dropping from view with an orange pink glow far off in the distance, it was beautiful. Mikala rested her elbows on the rail and looked out over the treetops across the street and sighed. She couldn’t believe how badly she was behaving, it was a night to celebrate and she was acting like a child all because of Mason, the most infuriating man on the planet.

  She was so undeniably confused and emotionally spent that the idea of jumping over the rail seemed disturbingly pleasant as she looked down at the ground. Closing her eyes she pictured herself running through a wide open field, not necessarily from anyone or anything, simply running free. It was that kind of freedom that went undisturbed because nothing could reach it, it was peaceful and serene. In this place there were no demands, no voices to disturb your thoughts and the only things to deal with were the dreams you held in your heart.

  Her eyes slowly opened as she felt his heat at her back. He hadn’t touched her but she knew he was standing there; she could smell his scent in the air and hear each breath he exhaled, after breathing her in.

  “Mason.”

  “Give me a moment of your time,” Mason pleaded, as he pressed his body against her back.

  “Yes,” she agreed, enjoying the feel of him molded to her.

  “Sugar, I need you,” he said, with his lips against to the shell of her ear, “Say you need me too, put us back together where we belong.”

  “Mason…”

  He tightened his grip around her waist, “At least say you’ll think about the idea of us, before you say no.”

  Mikala couldn’t give him an answer, as she stood silent listening to each breath he took in, feeling it warm on her skin with each breath out.

  The feel of his disappointment as his body retreated from hers, made her want to reach out and pull him close, but she resisted the urge and turned in his arm before they dropped to his side.

  “I won’t give up on us,” he told her. “But I will allow you room.”

  A cold chill ran up her spine as she watched him turn and walk away. Inside he sidestepped the table with a wave to his friends and pressed the elevator button as he glanced in her direction. His sad face as he climbed inside and the door slowly closed brought unwanted tears to her eyes. She quickly blinked them away and joined her friends inside.

  “Scared him off did you?” Carl asked, with a frown as all eyes landed on her.

  “I thought we were here to celebrate,” Mikala asked, reaching for her drink. “A toast,” she held her glass in the air.

  “To new beginnings and a wonderful past forgotten,” Chase said, with a glower.

  Her chest tightened as her eyes scanned the group. She swigged back her drink and stood. “Fuck you all,” she whispered, holding back the threat of tears and ran from the table.

  The mail on Mikala’s desk badgered her thoughts as she busied herself with phone calls, avoiding the dreaded red envelope tucked in the depths of the pile. Nearing the end of the list of calls she had to make by the day’s end, she reached over and lifted the pile of mail, sitting it in front of her. She mulled over whether to start at the top and work her way to the ominous letter, or leap right in and face it first.

  Face it first she decided, carefully tearing into it with her letter opener. Folding open the heavy red paper, she laid it on the desk smoothing it out. The letter contained a list of names and as she read each one aloud, she gasped when she realized who they were. These were the names, placed meticulously in alphabetical order, of the more powerful, high-ranking members of the club.

  How he had gotten hold of this information was beyond her. The contracts and the mailing list were safely in the hands of Chase’s lawyers and before that, they had always remained under lock and key in the wall safe. To get access from her computers there were three passwords and it was encrypted.

  She was baffled.

  What worried her more, was the fact that he had names and could use them to ruin the lives of many of Boston’s more influential families. They were saints by no means, by law adulterers, nonetheless the husbands and wives and children of the men and women who held membership, certainly didn’t deserve to be dragged into muddy waters for the indiscretions of their spouses, fathers or mother.

  This was a nightmare within a nightmare. As if she didn’t have enough to deal with, now he was blackmailing her. She brought her palms to her face and read the list over again. She picked up the phone and hit speed dial.

  “Dean Construction Enterprises, how may I direct your call?” The officious voice on the other end of the phone asked.

  “Chase Dean, please,” Mikala said, as calmly as she could manage.

  “I’m sorry Mr. Dean is in a meeting. Would you like me to put you through to his voice mail?”

  Mikala eyed the letter. “No voice mail, I need to speak to him now!”

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible,”

  “Listen sister, this is a fucking emergency, I need to talk to Chase and I need to talk to him, right fucking now! Tell him its Mikala Santino calling.”

  “One moment please,” she said, in a snotty tone. No doubt the name rang a bell.

  Less than a minute later she breathed a sigh as Chase came on the line. “Mik, what’s wrong?”

  “Oh my God Chase, I’m royally fucked here,” she started. “That sick bastard has the list and he’s going to use it to blackmail me…”

  “Mik, sweetheart, slow down and start again,” Chase instructed. Always calm, cool and collected, Chase listened as she relayed the finding in her mail.

  Mikala was a tormented bag of nerves after filling him in, but somehow Chase had this way of making the worst situation feel like a day at the beach, all sunshine and white sands. “Relax; you have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

  “Exactly what drugs are you on at the moment, because I want some too,” Mikala snipped.

  “Breathe Mik,” Chase said. “He has nothing do you hear me? Nothing! No paper trail exists because that was destroyed. The encrypted version on your computer is gone. There are two copies held by two different lawyers, on two separate continents and they are both safely locked away.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Mikala my darling, trust me,” he ordered. “I have a hell of a lot more to lose than you do. Do you seriously think I would not take every conceivable precaution to protect what’s mine?”

  That’s right, she was talking to Mr. Control Freak himself, how could she have forgotten? Chase never made a move without careful consideration and planning, he never rested until he had everything well under control.

  “Trust me?” he asked.

  “Of course I trust you,” she confirmed. “I’m sorry I freaked out.”

  “Understandable,” he said, “I have to get back to the meeting, times wasting and I have a dinner date with my beautiful wife, try and relax, I
’ll talk to you later.”

  “Bye and thanks.”

  “Anytime,”

  The phone went silent and she hung it up sitting back in her chair recalling Chase’s words, “I have a dinner date with my beautiful wife.”

  Eden was so, so lucky to have a man like Chase who lived to take care of her every need and want and treated her like a precious irreplaceable treasure. He was a godsend and Eden never for a moment took advantage of the fact that he cherished her, because she held him with the exact same regard.

  Upon opening the rest of her mail, she came across a letter from Bulldog Security Corp. It was a quarterly report, all business regarding price changes coming and new devices mainly for home security. Mason’s photo appeared on the back page, all dressed in cammo green with his arms crossed over his chest and a bulldog at his feet, running her fingers over the photo she smiled.

  “I did have it all,” she whispered, as she recalled Mason doting over her, making sure she was taken care of.

  “Why did I forget?” she asked herself, and then the image of him walking away flashed before her eyes.

  ***

  “I know I promised to leave you alone, but its day three and you have a decision to make. Do I add two more days to the hotel bill or will you reconsider and stay at the loft?”

  It seemed selfish to take advantage of Mason’s generosity and credit card, while trying desperately to push him away. But try as she may, Mikala couldn’t come up with an amicable approach to sharing the loft with the man she craved and surviving without his touch. Since he had returned to town, knowing he was so close and seeing him so many times a day, only made her want him more. Add to that a four walled box where they were forced to share the air they breathed and she’d be sunk.

  She played his message again and again, listening to the husky rasp of his voice and imagining his hands searching her curves and caressing those spots that only he knew so well, she quivered, bringing herself back from her daydream.

  It wasn’t fair to make Mason pay for the punishment being inflicted upon her by some psycho bastard. He was going to have one hell of a hefty bill at the end of the month and her saving had already taken quite a hit, so paying him back was going to be a bitch. Mikala really had no choice; it was time to face the man. It was time to woman up, time to be strong and resilient, and time to verify her resistance.

  Like he said, it was a large loft.

  ***

  Mikala nearly jumped from her skin when she heard Mason’s key in the lock. The door opened and she stood stiff, holding two glasses of wine in her hands.

  “I think we need to talk” she said holding out one of the glasses. Mason walked to her taking the offered glass from her hand, but said nothing.

  She took his hand and lead him to the sofa where they sat side by side, her knee touching his, the connection making him feel like something major was about to go down.

  “Mik, I,” Mason started, but Mikala brought her finger to his lips and stopped his words.

  “Let me speak, okay?” She faced him tucking her leg under her, taking a mouthful of wine then setting the glass on the coffee table before placing her hand on his knee.

  He looked from her eyes to her hand hesitantly before giving an agreeing nod.

  “I forgive you.” The announcement was short and direct. When his lips parted to speak she put up her finger, “Let me make myself perfectly clear,”

  It was his turn to raise his glass to his lips, but a mere sip would not suffice, tipping the glass back and emptying it in a single gulp, he sat wiggling the stem between his finger and thumb.

  “I forgive you, but I will never understand and never forget. If we’re going to move on you need to know there’s still no ‘we’ or ‘us’ so don’t feed anything into this.”

  “I can live with that,” Mason said, turning his head when he whispered, “for now.”

  “You have something you want to say?” she asked, when she missed his ambiguous comment.

  “I’m good.”

  He placed his glass on the table beside her and stood. “I changed the sheets on your bed and put an extra blanket on the end. I have changes to make on the blue prints, then I’m off to bed, you sleep well.”

  She sat with her jaw gaping, shocked at his total indifference. She watched him walk to his desk and sit, he inserted a pencil into his electric sharpener blew away the shavings and looked up at her.

  “If you need anything, you know where I am,” he said, dropping his eyes to his computer screen.

  Hours passed as she busied herself by taking a bath and shaving her under arms and legs and paying extra attention to areas she had forgotten existed, areas that she longed to be explored by more than the edge of a raiser. Feeling fresh and clean, she decided to call it a day and went to bed. From her vantage point in the hideaway she lay on her side and watched Mason as he worked.

  Mason had the habit of running the tip of his tongue along the edge of his upper teeth when he was deep in thought, and Mikala watched intently as it slid back and forth while he concentrated on something in front of him. Placing the end of his pen between his lips, he drew it down pulling his bottom lip open and Mikala practically burst into flames. Rolling over and changing her view was the only way she would get any kind of sleep tonight.

  Shortly after two she woke to the sound of Mason softly snoring across the room, she was restless and could only think of Mason, every part of Mason. That tongue, his hands, his rock hard ass and thighs and of course another rock hard part she remembered with a smile.

  Yes, she was horny as fuck.

  The bed dipped on one side, Mason thought he was dreaming until he felt the heat from a warm body tucked up to his back, then he smelled lime and pears. Rolling over he discovered to his delight, Mikala at his side.

  “Sugar, you need something?” he asked, as she hugged securer into him.

  “Uh huh.”

  “Are you ill, did you have a dream?” he asked confused, still half asleep.

  “No.” Her hand smoothed over his washboard stomach and up to his chest, she drew a circle around his nipple and he pulled her hand away.

  “Are you sleep walking, sugar?” he asked and she giggled. “Are you drunk?”

  “No you jerk,” she yanked her hand from his grip and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m fucking horny.”

  When she moved to stand Mason grasped her wrist and pulled her back. “What are you saying, sugar?” He knew he just needed to hear it.

  “I want you to fuck me.”

  “What about rule number three?”

  “Fuck number three,” she scowled. “This once,”

  He sat up and heaved her over his lap, she lay back in his arms and they stared into each other’s faces. “You sure this is what you want?” he hesitantly asked.

  “Don’t speak,” she ordered.

  Not sure if he was about to do the wrong thing again, he brushed her hair away from her neck and kissed his lips to her tender flesh and breathed her in. He cradled her in his arms basking in the dream of being buried in her hot wetness. His tongue licked across her jaw and just as his lips were about to caress hers, she turned her head away.

  “No kissing,” she said. Far too intimate, like having sex wasn’t going to be, she feared that if they shared the intimacy of a kiss, she would be unable to disconnect completely afterward.

  His brow knit together, perplexed with what she was saying, this was just crazy.

  “What the fuck, Mikala.” He pushed her back. “You want me to make love to you, but not to speak and not to kiss you?”

  Smoothing her hand over his chest, she sighed. “Let’s keep this as uncomplicated as possible, I want sex and I know you want it too. Don’t think of it as making love because that’s not what it is. It’s just two people sharing some wild sex, end of.”

  Her finger slipped into her mouth swirling her tongue around the tip, she pulled it from her mouth with a greedy slurping sound and reached over circli
ng his nipple. His gaze followed her as she leaned forward licking his other nipple with the flat of her tongue. He had sensitive nipples she knew this and loved the way it excited him with each touch. Testing the effect on him, she slid her hand under the covers. He was indeed sporting a semi hard-on, she grinned up at him but his eyes told a different, much colder story.

  “You wanna play, sugar?” he asked, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her recklessly onto her back. She met his enraged eyes with shock. “We’ll fucking play,” he growled.

  Forgetting the gentle, the caring, the tender way he wanted to make love to her, he shoved all emotion to the back burner, he grit his teeth and reached between her legs grasping roughly onto the thin fabric of her delicate lace panties tearing them away. If she wanted detached loveless sex, that’s exactly what he would give her. He could be selfish if she wanted that, obsessing with getting off like a horny teenager, this once as she said. A feeling of rage mixed with something unexplainable had him acting completely out of character, as he forcibly adjusted her position under his hips.

  Not bothering to disrobe her any further so he could maintain that disconnection she desired, while keeping her voluptuous breasts covered and out of his sight, his finger dipped between her folds. He heard a soft moan and instead of it heightening his desire, it irritated him. Like nails running down a chalkboard, he felt his skin crawl and his cock shrink back.

  A need to be brutal, to lash out and hurt her like she had just done to him goaded him on.

  “Not as wet as I thought you’d be, oh well, we’ll make do eh, baby?” He heard the words but it was as if they came from someone else’s mouth, he was appalled by his own behavior.

  Fighting the urge to make eye contact he turned his head away and closed his eyes. He fisted his cock giving it a few strokes to bring it to life. Given that his heart wasn’t willing, meant other parts needed some encouragement to perform.