“Is that seriously all you have to say right now?”
“Nina—”
“Tell me everything, and so help me God, Mason, if you lie to me.”
My skin prickles as I try to trample my emotions.
She is here. She knows the worst of it, and she is here.
With hope in my heart, I search for the right words. “You know about Phoebe?”
“Yes. And about what happened after. Behind Charlie’s back,” she arches an accusing brow at me, but her eyes don’t hold the same conviction. “I want to know what Charliewon’ttell me. I want to know why your mother’s piano was in Erin’s studio.”
I snigger and look down. “Her name isn’t Erin.” My eyes burn into the ground at our feet as I take myself back to that night.
Only this time, I drag Nina through it with me.
Fourteen months earlier…
Rarely will I pick up at Melders. I try not to mix business with pleasure. But where my father’s lack of self-control lies with the bottle, mine seems to lie in the redhead that is currently on her knees, sucking my cock.
The smell of her cheap perfume assaults my senses, giving me a headache. She is hot, though. Damn, she is fucking stunning. She has that natural Jessica Rabbit vibe going on with her bouncy red hair and hourglass figure.
I’m not fooled, though. She is just like the rest of them. Following me with their eyes until I settle on one of them to take home for the night, just to fulfil a need. That’s all it is—emotionless sex at its finest.
She starts to moan around me, and I pull out of her mouth, finding her eagerness to please me fucking pathetic.
I just need to fuck.
“Out,” I demand, hitting the button to open the elevator doors. My patience has been wearing thin all night.
I haven’t heard anything from Vinny yet and I should have by now.
She climbs to her feet as I tuck myself away. The hunger in her eyes only grows when she sees my home, confirming my initial judgement of her.
“Wow. Becks said you had money. This is next level.”
She walks into the room, past the sectional sofas and over to the piano. It stands between the lounge and the dining area, the perfect view of the London skyline beyond it.
Using her hands, she pulls herself up to sit on it, crossing her legs and letting her dress slide up her thigh. “Come here,” she croons.
Reluctantly I move to her, my fists clenching at my sides as I watch her squirm on the polished wood. I don’t like the feeling growing inside me at seeing her on my mother’s piano.
Wrapping my hands around her waist, I grasp her tight. She unfolds her legs, lifting them to lock around my waist, and then I lift her from it. “You don’t touch this,” I warn.
“No? I was hoping you’d fuck me on it.” She pops a brow.
Does she think that’s going to turn me on? Fucking her on my mother’s piano? I’ve never been so soft in my life.
“You don’t fucking touch it. Got it?” I spit out, making her face drop.
Not wanting her anywhere near my personal things or feelings, I take her lips, hoping it will get me going again. I already know I am going to have to work for it. Maybe I’m an asshole, but girls like…
“What’s your name again?”
“Cara.” She giggles into my neck as I carry her up the stairs.
Girls like Cara are only after one thing. Money. They can smell it from a mile off, and if I didn’t take her home tonight, El would have. That’s how I sleep at night, knowing she is only after a notch on her millionaire tally. I’m just something to brag about come Monday morning.
