Yes, Masters (Book 2 of Desire's Den)

Chapter 29 - Gideon

I hated being in here.

I hated the fucking noise. I hated being with drunk people who screamed at the top of their lungs so they would be heard over the horrendous music. I hated the strobing lights, and the damn sight of dancing and people being in a generally good mood.

It was torture.

When I bought the nightclub, it wasn't because I cared much for the scene. It was simply easy money. With a competent manager, the club basically ran itself. I liked to stay behind the scenes, run numbers and making sure we turned a profit, which we always did by the thousands every fucking week. People were idiots, I'd learned; they saw something expensive—exclusive—and they wanted it. All I had needed to do to make this club successful was to have a ridiculous entry fee, drinks that cost a shit ton more than they were worth and an area for VIPs, and the customers wouldn't stop coming. They wanted to feel important enough to be here, but really, they were just plain stupid.

The bass from the music thudded in my ears, and I could feel a headache coming in. If it hadn't been for Emma, I would've been in my sound-proof office and away from this shit.

Irritation rolled off of me in waves, and even people who weren't in the VIP section took measures to keep a distance from us.

The only reason I was sitting here, was because of Emma. It wasn't just because I wanted to watch her, though it was certainly a bonus. No, what I wanted the most was making sure she was safe. Nightclubs weren't known for being a secure environment for women, and fuck if I wouldn't do everything I could to make sure nothing happened to her.

We were sitting in the private section in what had become my table whenever Emma worked. It was in the corner of the room, the section was elevated and ideal if you'd want to look at, say...the bar area, which were right in front of us.

"Talked to Mateo today?" Callan kept his sights on Emma as he asked. Emma was busy mixing a drink, but I could see the tension on her face. It appeared I wasn't the only one who didn't take well to the noise. I took a quick look at the time, and it eased my worry that she would soon be on her break.

A man was leaning against the bar, talking to her with a flirtatious smile. My hand that wasn't holding the drink clenched into a fist as my possessiveness was almost getting the better of me. For each smile she returned to her customers, my mood grew darker. My mind was screaming at me that she was ours. Ours. Ours. Ours. It didn't matter that we were technically on a break, or that she wanted some distance between us. I craved her with an intensity that would scare most people, but not our girl—not my baby girl. I never frightened her; not in the beginning when I wanted was to scare her away, and certainly not now, when all I wanted was having her back and under our control. The taste I'd gotten of being with her two weeks ago was hardly enough; I didn't just want a taste, I wanted it all—everything.

"No, why?" I finally asked. I knew there was a reason he'd asked about Mateo. It was hard to miss the eagerness in his voice.

"I was told he had a dirty make out with a certain student of his." Callan smirked, obviously pleased by this.

My eyes narrowed on Emma. "He told you that?"

"Yup, it seems she some parts of her aren't over us. I take that as a positive sign."

My glass strained under my tightening hand, creating tiny fissures in the smooth surface. Jealousy warred with the satisfaction I felt after hearing our girl still wasn't as far out of our reach as we had feared. Sure, a fuck beat a kiss by a mile, but two weeks was long ago, but their kiss would've happened recently. When we had her together to share, the jealousy hadn't been this intense, but now that I never knew when I'd have her next, I didn't like that her limited kisses went to anyone else than me.