Page 9 of The Spare (The King Dynasty #2)

Chapter five

Desires of The Heart

" H ey, Mason. What the fuck are you doing, bro? Do you ever not work?"

I studiously ignore him, refusing to look up.

"What are you looking at?"

I glance up sharply from my phone as Benny, one of my finance friends, playfully lurches forward and tries to snatch my phone from my hand. I jerk my hand out of the way, sinking a bit deeper in my seat, clicking the power button and turning the screen black.

Cutting off the feed of something a lot better than what everyone else is currently entertaining themselves with.

"Nothing, Ben," I say, throwing him an annoyed glance as he tosses a few hundred dollar bills on the stage in front of me, making my skin crawl.

"Hey, baby doll," he calls to a nearby stripper. "Give my friend here a lap dance."

The other members at our table trade glances and chuckle, their mirth deepening at my obvious discomfort.

I pick up my bottle and take a deep swig, moving my head out the way when the brunette comes up to me and puts her hands to the side of my head and scrapes her fingers through my hair. Her perfume is obnoxious, as are her fake boobs.

Propping my elbow on the seat, I block her from trying to drag her hand down my chest and stomach. Irritated, I cut my eyes to Ben, who takes a drag on his cigar and narrows his eyes at me through the smoke, gleefully watching me push away the stripper they hired for our table.

I cannot stand these private mansion parties. Fuck.

"You know, Mason," Joseph, the groom-to-be at this ridiculous bachelor party I was forced to attend, catches my attention. "Maybe next time we should hire some chippendales?" he says suggestively, trading a look with the two other people at our table. "Seems like they might be more your speed."

Scoffing at his audacity, I meet his eyes for a second, seeing genuine curiosity within his pea colored irises, reflecting the size of his dumbass brain, no doubt.

I look down, picking up my own cigar and busy myself crossing my ankle over my knee while I light it. I take a comically slow drag, blowing out a big smoke ring while they all wait for my response. I'd be an asshole if I just up and left after just getting here .

The purple and pink strobe lights illuminate the moody interior of the private club of one of the most powerful wall street brokers here in New York.

Father does business with him, and his son Joseph is getting married this weekend.

I was supposed to be landing a major client for King Dynasty here tonight.

But apparently not tonight. And the thought upsets me.

In the effort to continue to attempt to repair mine and Father's relationship, I've spent the past almost four years straight filling my evenings and weekends with dinners, lunches, parties, and vacations; gathering clients and connections to strengthen the financial sector of the King Dynasty empire, as well as paying my dues to the California mafia Don, Lucien.

Doing anything and everything I can to take my mind off of what I can't have right now: Hendrix's sister-in-law.

Melody.

The love of my life, my confidante, and oftentimes, the thorn in my side.

But ultimately, the desire of my heart.

These last almost four years have been the most agonizing blip of time in our love story, and I'm eager to put it behind us.

I clench my jaw and shake the woman's touch off my shoulder, leaning away from her when she goes to nuzzle into my neck.

"Will you get off of me already? Fuck." I snap, irritated. The men all laugh at me again, and I decide I'm out. Father will just have to understand.

Or not, I don't give a fuck.

I firmly push the stripper away, giving her a dirty look before turning back to Joseph, seeing Ben start to shake his head, and rubbing a hand down his jaw. But I don't care if I've offended him. Joseph's seriously touched a nerve, and he's about to pay for it .

"And even if I was gay, fucker, what would be the problem with that? Hm?" I cock my head. "Because if I were gay, I promise you'd know about it, 'cause I don't have nothing to hide, pendejo. Not like you, right?"

His eyes go wide, and his nostrils flare as he sucks in a sharp breath. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

A sick pleasure fills me.

"You know exactly what. It takes one to know one, Joseph," I say, standing up and snuffing out my cigar.

Leaning forward, I look down my nose at him, feeling the corner of my mouth tilt up.

"Tell me, how was it blowing out Tim's asshole last week?

I saw him today, and he still don't look like he can walk right yet.

Looks like you both had a great time to me. "

The men all glance uncomfortably at each other before snapping their eyes to Joseph who gets a rare, evil look on his face.

His lip curls, and he wets his lips as he narrows his eyes at me, sitting back in his seat.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," he says, his voice deepening with tension.

"Send my regards to Cecilia," I say lightly, referencing his intended. "Hopefully she doesn't kill you in about five years when she finds out your secret."

Landon, Cecilia's brother, snaps his head over to Joseph and leans forward in his seat. "What the fuck is he talking about? You fucking around on my sister?"

Joseph cuts spite-filled eyes at me. "You fucking asshole. Who do you think you are, you piece of shit?"

I lean forward. "I'm a mother fucking King. You'd do well to remember it, too," I snarl, giving him a scathing look back, wrapping both hands around the edge of the table threateningly, and jostle it hard.

The men get a surprised look on their faces and scoot back as the pitcher of beer overturns on him, soaking his shirt and spilling into his lap.

Uncomfortable and pissed off at myself for using my name to assert my status, I turn, ignoring the sound of punches being thrown and glass shattering, shoving my hands into my pockets and calmly skirting the various private tables, dancers, and servers carrying trays of drinks.

I find the exit door and make my way outside to the valet stand on the side lawn, thankful for fresh air.

"King," I say in bored tone, watching as the valet gets my keys and then runs off towards the hidden parking area. I stand to the side and pull out my phone again, opening the screen I'd been forced to abandon earlier. The real reason for my ire.

I smile as the screen lights up.

She's still there.

Melody moves around the screen of my phone; the image sent to me via a hidden camera I'd paid her dorm's maintenance guy to plant. The camera points down to her bed, showing me a lot of her dorm room, minus her roommate's bed. I'm not interested.

No, the object of my desire has all of my attention and affection.

Hence, why I can't focus on anyone else. Nor have I been with anyone else since I've met her.

I couldn't even imagine sinking my cock in anyone else. I think it'd break my damn heart.

Melody's currently crawling around her bed on her hands and knees, tucking the fitted sheets around the mattress and smoothing her pillowcase.

She walks the two feet over to her roommate's bed and snatches up her comforter, placing it down before flopping down on her belly to try and shove the thick blanket between her mattress and the concrete wall .

I make a soft noise of amusement, grabbing my keys from the valet who'd just parked and hopped out.

"Thanks, man," I say, handing him a hundred dollar tip.

Sliding into my car, I mount my phone and pull off into the night, headed to NYU where she lives. I text her quickly, needing to see her.

Care for company, butterfly? -Mase

In the camera I see her snatch her phone up off her nightstand and then lean her weight on her left hip. She shoves her curls to the side and then starts tapping at her phone.

Hi Masey! Sure, but I don't have anything to eat here. Or to drink, except water. -Mel

Getting the hint, I swerve when I see a store ahead.

Parking illegally, I run in to buy a couple cans of sprite.

Getting back in my car, I take back off quickly, glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure my security, Dante, is still on my tail, and we make it to the university in record time.

Parking nearby, I grab the cans and shove them under my arm, sauntering past campus security with Dante behind me.

He nods at us and then goes back to his book, unconcerned. I smile.

Money really does make the world go around, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

We journey up three floors in silence and then veer right down the hallway until I get to room 309 and knock. Melody opens the door with a wide smile and, like always, her face takes my breath away.

"Hey, butterfly," I greet her, leaning down to pull her into my arms.

"Hiii," she sings. Peeking over my shoulder, she calls out, "Hey, Dante. How're you? "

"I'm fine, miss. Thank you," he says curtly, shaking hands with Stephen. They make themselves scarce like they always do when I'm here.

Inhaling deeply, I nuzzle into her temple and stroke my fingers down her back. The smell of her hair oil fills my lungs and makes me feel at home.

"How's it going, sweetheart?" I ask, dragging my eyes down her body as she backs up to let me into the small space.

I can't help the direction of my thoughts at the sight of how delicious she looks, and my lips curve on one side, betraying me.

But I can't help it; I never can when I'm around her.

She's comfy in a pair of tight, thin gray leggings and a white crop top showing off her small waist. Her hair hangs loose down her back in shiny ringlet curls skimming the exposed flesh, and her face is bare.

It's late, so she doesn't have much makeup on right now, and my pleasure grows at seeing her freckles stand out so prettily.

All twenty-three of them.