Page 88 of I Stop Somewhere Waiting For You

“Come again?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.

“Mr. Bishop gave you full access. You’re free to go anywhere in the club. In any of the clubs, actually.”

My jaw tightens. I shift my gaze to Daphne to find her eyes wide, mouth agape. “I will be right back. Go get situated. Get me a drink?”

“A fucking big one.” She pats me on the shoulder before shoving the other girls forward to follow Logan.

Spotting a set of stairs off toward the side, I take off to ascend the levels. The place is packed, and while I’m on my way to tear him a new one, I’m also slightly impressed at what he’s built. I always knew he had it in him. Bent would be so proud.

By the time I reach the top level, I’ve managed to table my admiration, bringing my frustrations back to the forefront. I approach the large ornate door guarded by another security member. Jesus, these guys are huge. Who did he recruit? The defensive line for the Giants?

Just as I’m about to introduce myself, the brick wall of a bouncer nods his head at me, greeting me by name. “Ms. Hunter,” he states, opening the door for me.

I stare at him, feeling like I’ve stepped into the fucking Twilight Zone. Forcing a smile—because it’s not his fault his boss torments me—I trudge into the room, the door shutting with a click behind me.

My eyes scan the dimly-lit space and, though I can’t see him, I can feel him watching me. This is clearly his office. It suits him. Everything is dark. The walls are painted black, save for one accent wall to the right that’s all exposed brick. A black leather couch is positioned in front of it, with two brown leather chairs situated across the coffee table. Mav’s desk is massive, positioned along the far wall opposite the door, built from what looks to be solid wood and stained a dark rich color that’s only slightly darker than the stain of the floors. His high back leather chair sits empty behind it, and my eyes continue to draw up to the wall it sits in front of. Though the walls are void of any artwork, they are intricately decorated with full-length gold wainscotting.

Glancing to my left, I see my suspicions are confirmed about the mirrors. I walk over, peering down at the hundreds of bodies partying below.

My body electrifies with awareness just before he makes contact. Mav’s hand snakes around my waist, coming to rest on my lower stomach, pinning my back to his front.

A low growl escapes his throat as his head dips next to my ear. “Are you trying to fucking torture me? Because seeing you in this dress and not being allowed inside you is the cruelest form of punishment.”

“Would you prefer if I wore something less revealing?” My head turns to the side, brow arched as I glance back at him over my shoulder.

“Fuck no. If I could only choose one outfit for you to wear every day for the rest of our lives, it would be this dress.” He spins me, giving him a clear line of sight down my cleavage. “Jesus,” he sighs, his expression almost pained. “I’m so fucking hard for you right now.”

“Oh yeah?” I lick my lips seductively before offering up a coy smile. I press up onto my toes, the added height of my stilettos bringing me even closer to his face. Lightly tracing the tip of my nose against his own, I feel his body shudder. “You kiss your fiancé with that mouth?”

His face transitions between emotions, first to confusion then anger. “What?” he spits, his expression hard.

I press back from him, eyeing him with a judgmental glare. “You heard me. How’s Amber? When’s the wedding?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He takes a step in my direction, and I compensate by moving to the left.

“Had a nice little run-in with Amber last week at the bridal shop. She was very excited to flash her new accessory.” He looks to me, wide-eyed, his jaw rigid as the muscles in his neck visibly tighten. I push forward with my demands. “I want these games to stop. Ambushing me in bathrooms, setting up VIP service, giving me access to your businesses? You chose someone else, and we have both moved on—”

Mav lunges for me, scooping me up and spinning us to pin my back against the glass. I attempt to fight against him, but he presses into me further, stealing all the air from my lungs.

“You fucking listen to me right now, J.” His voice comes out harsh, with no room for argument. “I would never, ever, put a ring on that cunt’s finger. I don’t know what she told you, but she’s full of shit. She is nothing to me. I even had her thrown out of the Cathedral while Finn lit her shit on fire.”

“Why?” I whisper, as his forehead presses to mine.

“Because she’s not you.” The words fall from his lips, his eyes softening as they stare into my own.

My breath falters with a gasp, trying to process what he’s saying to me.

“It was all a lie,” he continues. “I didn’t touch her that day. I was trying to do right by you. I was trying to set you free.”

Set me free? My thoughts start to spiral as the realization of what he’s telling me takes hold. Did I really lose all this time with him, the life I was supposed to lead, our fucking baby, over him trying to take the moral high ground? Did he really rob me of that choice?

“Put me down.” My words come out firm.

“J –”

“Put me down, Mav!” His eyes squeeze shut as he slowly releases me. I adjust my dress as my feet find the floor. Backing away, I begin placing increasing amounts of space between us. “How dare you.”

He initiates a step in my direction, but my hand flies up, halting his movement.

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