Filed to story: I Slept With My Ex's Father (Olivia & Dylan) Book PDF Free
Something happened back then that had Mason follow Nate out to California. Now he is also back, but unlike Nate, Mason has ingratiated himself right back into the Hill Club without batting an eye.
It’s good to see him again. But how I’d kill for one single message from my son.
I smile. “Enjoying the party?”
“Always.” Mason takes a seat on the bar stool beside me.
Still, after all these years, I can’t get used to him being here as a full-fledged member. Feels like yesterday he and Nate were scraping on the Persian rug with
Teletubbies on in the background. “Sounds like you’re finding ways to keep yourself entertained.”
“At the Hill Club, it’s hard to be bored.” He leans back on the bar and surveys the scene. “I was just partaking in some of the antics of The Underground. The girls you have down there tonight are…” Mason whistles.
“They came at the recommendation of Michael Carnaby,” I say. “Haven’t been down there yet but glad to know his recommendation is up to snuff.”
“You ought to go down there. Then your shoulders might fall away from your ears, huh?”
I give him a sidelong glance.
The Underground is our dungeon. Where our members in the BDSM lifestyle can get their needs met.
Tonight, we’ve hired a slew of burlesque dancers to entertain down there, and there’s no lack of both subs and Doms for all tastes in case some unattached members want to indulge in a little fun.
Everything that happens down there, stays down there.
Mason twists his lips to the side. “Look, I’m sorry I couldn’t come through with you on Nate.”
I swig my whisky. “No apology necessary.”
“I did my best, but you know him,” Mason says, continuing an apology that is truly not necessary. “Abigail and Jack did what they could. I know Abigail is feeling really broken up about it, but-“
“Mason, I’m a grown man. Nathan is my son. No one else but me is responsible for…” I don’t even know. Rebuilding our relationship? Our trust?
He’s my son. This feels so ass-backward.
Mason clicks his tongue. “I know, I know. We all just want to help…”
I can’t believe my eyes.
Mason’s voice fades away as a figure in white appears beside him, leaning over the bar to catch the eye of a bartender.
It’s her. My swan.
I don’t even think she notices me on the other side of Mason.
He does a double-take in the direction I’m looking. A smile creeps over his face. “Have you found something of interest, Dylan?”
“It still freaks me out when you call me by my first name,” I grumble, then lean over the bar and snap at one of the bartenders, Kelsey, who is peeling oranges for garnish.
The bartender’s head shoots up, her blue spikes of hair visible over the crown of her scaly mask. Some sort of fish. Maybe the Little Mermaid.
I gesture toward my swan.
The swan looks my way.
I hold my breath.
Her eyes are like molten gold, sparkling even in the dim light of the club.
In the background, an upbeat bass throbs.
And so do I.
She starts to smile, to thank me, but Kelsey grabs her attention before I can reciprocate. My own damn fault.
“You’re such a good host,” Mason teases.
I pat my son’s friend on the shoulder. “Mason, you know I love you, but get the fuck out of here, would you?”
He grins. “Whatever you say.” The younger man gets to his feet and trips off into the hoopla of the floor.
I watch the swan wait for her drink. And I wait for her to look at me.
Her head dips down, looking at her hands.
I take stock of every little detail about her. The severe lines of her cheekbones and jaw, her ear lobe that is decorated with a dangling pearl and a golden stud, plus a hoop at the very top of her ear.
I can’t place her. And I can place pretty much everyone despite their masks.
However, this is one of the only events of the year where our members can bring as many guests as they like. She could be a friend of a friend of a friend. Someone I might never see again.
Which means it’s all the more important I close the gap between us.
“A swan, hm?”
Wow. Smooth, Dylan.
The woman lifts her face toward mine. She’s young. “Yes. And you are?”
I lift my chin. “Guess.”
Kelsey returns with the woman’s drink. Another of the evening’s signature cocktails.
Farley came up with that one.
I thought it was a little too cheeky, but I’ve seen the Lion’s Roars flowing all night.
The swan takes a sip, then looks at me once more. “Hmm…”
“You need a hint?”
“No, no.” Another sip. She tilts herself back, leaning on the bar, showing off the deep well of her clavicle.
My god, she’s stunning. She’s probably a model. I think I’ve seen her before on the cover of…something. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking.
“Hmmm…” The way her lips fold to hum makes my insides vibrate.
Shit, this isn’t good.
“Rooster?” she ventures.
I jut my chin forward, eyes widening. “Rooster?!”
She giggles, bringing her drink toward her mouth. “Am I wrong?”
“I’m-I’m-I’m-“
Dammit, Solomon. “A phoenix! I’m a phoenix.”
The swan flushes. Imagine that, a blushing swan. “Oh! I see it now! The flames on the-“
I touch the crown of my mask. “Yeah, they’re flames.”
Leaning forward, she examines my mask. She’s so close I could grab her and kiss her. Although that would surely get me slapped.
I want to, though. Almost to the point of despair.
Her finger comes up as if to touch the mask, me, but she drops her hand before I get that lucky. “And the bottom is all black like it’s been charred. Huh. That’s beautiful…”
You’re the beautiful one.
Suddenly, she withdraws, tilts her drink in my direction. “Cheers.”
Before I can say another thing, she floats off as easily as a swan on a placid lake.
I stare after her, mouth ajar.
Did she really call me a rooster and then walk away?
How dare she make me feel like this, leave my body all hard and wanting, and then walk away from me?
