Slay, p.15

  Slay, p.15

Slay
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  “He wants me to fuck her. To get her to stay.”

  Thatcher chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”

  This wasn’t funny. She had been abused. Emotionally and physically hurt. The thought of manipulating her with sex made my stomach knot up. She deserved more than that.

  “It’s fucking. Jesus Christ, what is your problem? You look like you were just ordered to put a gun to her pretty head and shoot.”

  I glared at him as he took a pull from his cigarette. “It’s not fair to her. It’s a lie.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t want to fuck her? Because I could have sworn you’ve wanted to since day one. And everything we have told her has been a damn lie.”

  He was right. Still, it didn’t make this easier. Sebastian would be the better match for her. He’d probably even be all in. Faithful and shit. Not lying. But, damn it, I couldn’t let him touch her. I’d end up killing him.

  “I’m just supposed to make her think we have something? A relationship?” I wasn’t really asking him. I knew what Blaise wanted. I just couldn’t seem to make it okay in my head.

  “You are the charmer. It’s what you do. Go do it. Stop making it hard.”

  I glanced back at the truck and knew I had to get back to her. She was scared and alone. She trusted me. Her eyes had widened as she admitted it. The fact that she trusted me had surprised her. Dammit, I didn’t want to do this.

  I would never be a real relationship for her. Or anyone. But especially someone like her. She was too sweet, fragile, broken for me. I wasn’t the guy to heal her, help her get through the hell she’d lived. I was just another evil in her life.

  “Go handle the bastard who was trying to get onto the property. I’ll go do my job,” I told him, not looking back as I started toward the truck.

  “If you change your mind, I’m sure Sebastian will happily step in,” he called out.

  I didn’t bother responding. He was trying to piss me off. If I were a good man, I’d do just that. Let Sebastian do this. But I wasn’t good. I was selfish. I wouldn’t be able to stand any of the others having her even if it was fake and temporary. This was going to be one of the things I shouldn’t do, but did anyway. I had many of those in my life. This one would be different though. I might never forgive myself for it.

  When I climbed into the truck, Rumor was sitting there, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. I didn’t need to see her eyes to know she was terrified. She thought this was all on her, and Blaise was right. She was going to run or try to. I had to give her a reason to stay.

  “Everything is fine. Wasn’t the Mafia. Like I said,” I told her as I closed the door.

  She turned her head to me, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Really?”

  I nodded. “Swear.”

  “Should we check on Maeme?” she asked, her voice quavering.

  I shook my head. “No, she’s not home. She’s gone to my dad’s to stay with my little sister while my dad and stepmom go on a short trip.”

  Her eyes widened. “I forgot you had a sister.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Birdie. She was in the kitchen at the family breakfast. You didn’t get to meet her.”

  “You said she was five, right?”

  I pulled out onto the road and drove the short distance to the ranch entrance. “Yep. Dad married Jupiter, her mom, seven years ago. She is wife number four and only two years older than me.”

  “Wow,” she whispered.

  Yeah, wow. My dad had shown me firsthand how relationships never worked. They always ended in tears, hate, and cost a lot of fucking money. I wanted nothing to do with that. Ever.

  “We are still going to watch the race? Are the police not coming?” she asked warily.

  I wasn’t going to be able to explain this to her. Yet another lie to add to the many I had told her. I knew it was time that I turned my conscience off. I was attracted to her. That was not an issue. If I hadn’t gotten to know her and…started to care about her, then I’d be able to do this without blinking an eye. But I cared. I wanted to protect her. Maybe one day, when this was over, she wouldn’t hate me completely. Perhaps I could give her some memories that she wanted to keep.

  “It’s being handled,” I said as I parked beside the other vehicles outside the stables. “The ranch has its own security team. They will deal with things. We are going to go inside and enjoy the evening.”

  • twenty-eight •

  “You don’t have to be jealous, sweets. Your body has my complete attention.”

  Rumor

  I understood that the life of the wealthy or uber-wealthy was different. That they handled things more discrete than most. Money was power, and the more you had of the first, the more you had of the second. It came hand in hand. I got all that.

  However, I had not known that the billionaires of the world were unfazed by gunshots and criminals trying to get onto their property. King wasn’t even shaken by what had happened. It was as if I hadn’t been shoved onto the floor of his truck while he fired a gun at someone. This wasn’t okay. Was it? I mean, shouldn’t they have cops surrounding the place? They had shot at us. King had shot at someone. There should be…an investigation going on.

  Yet here we were, in the large party room I’d been to before in the stables, while people yelled and cheered at the screen covering the wall as horses raced. King kept his hand on my lower back as he drank from the glass of whiskey in his other hand. He was smiling at the screen as if nothing had happened.

  Not only was I trying to wrap my head around that, I was also struggling with the fact that there was an almost-naked brunette in Storm’s lap and his hand was between her legs. She was rubbing against it like a dog in heat right in front of everyone. No one seemed to care or notice that either. I was afraid to look anywhere else. It seemed whenever I did, I saw something startling.

  “King,” a redhead, wearing a very tiny bikini, cooed as she came to curl up on his other side, the side I wasn’t standing on, “you promised to go in the hot tub with me.”

  King glanced down at her, then back at the race. “Change of plans,” he said simply.

  Her hand slid around his waist, and I began to step away from him. I needed distance from whatever she was planning on doing, but King’s hand moved from my back to my hip and clamped down on it, holding me still. I swung my gaze up to his face, and his jaw ticked, as if he were annoyed.

  “Moira, go away.” His tone was even, but the command in it wasn’t missed on me or her.

  She dropped her hand from his body and immediately walked back toward the door. I watched her trying to decide if she was his date tonight. Did the shooting that everyone was ignoring change his plans? He was afraid to leave my side now?

  “I’m fine,” I said bitterly. I didn’t want to be in the way of his good time.

  He stared down at me. “Okay. Good,” he said in a slow drawl as he studied me.

  Sighing, I shifted my eyes back to the door where Moira had exited. “Your date. You can go with her. I am fine watching the race.”

  His brows drew together, and then he turned to look back at the screen. “She’s not my date. I don’t date.”

  She thought she was something. He’d made a promise to her about the hot tub.

  Unable to keep my mouth shut and let it go, I continued, “She was expecting you to go to the hot tub with her.”

  He dropped his gaze back to mine again. “Like I said, change of plans.”

  I was jealous. There. I admitted it. I was jealous of her and the blonde. I had no reason to be. Right now, I should be focused on the fact that the Mafia was after me or they could be. We had been shot at. A million other things. Not that King had women all over that he did things with. Like spanking and having sex in a tack room or getting into hot tubs with almost-naked girls.

  “You can go. She looks like your type,” I snapped and immediately wished I hadn’t.

  He turned toward me, and then his eyes darkened slightly, and I worried I’d said too much. “What do you know about my type?” he asked me.

  Why had I said that? I wanted to go back to my cottage and read. Alone. Where I wouldn’t say stupid things or know who King was with. It didn’t matter anyway.

  “Just that you like them sexy, beautiful with perfect bodies, barely clothed. She fits the checks.”

  The right corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. “That’s what I like, huh?”

  I swallowed hard, not liking the fact that we were still talking about this. “Yes, it would seem so.”

  His eyes slowly drifted down my body, stopping briefly at my chest, then traveling the rest of the way down. “In that case, you need to remove some clothing, and you’d fit the checks too.”

  Wait. What?

  He reached out and ran the tip of his pointer finger over my collarbone, then barely dipped it into my cleavage. My breath got stuck in my throat, and I gasped, but I didn’t move. Not an inch.

  When his eyes came back to meet mine, he leaned down close to my ear. “You don’t have to be jealous, sweets. Your body has my complete attention.”

  A shiver ran through me. One I couldn’t define. Was it fear? Desire? Both? Was I even awake? This was not like King. He didn’t talk to me this way. Or look at me this way.

  “What? No comment this time?” he asked as his warm breath tickled just below my ear.

  My knees felt slightly weak. I needed my head examined. That was it. The shooting had sent me into some sort of shock. I was fantasizing.

  The sharp sting of his teeth biting down on my earlobe, then releasing it caused me to reach out and grab on to his arm for support. What was he doing to me?

  “I bet you taste real fucking good, sweets,” he whispered before running the tip of his nose along my neckline.

  When he straightened back up, I was still standing there in a haze of confusion and need. Never in my life had I felt the things that he caused to stir up in my body. This had to be real. It felt more real than anything ever had in my life. I couldn’t make this up. My imagination wasn’t this creative.

  I watched as he turned his focus back on the race. Forcing myself not to stare at him, I did the same. I didn’t understand much of anything that was happening other than horses were being raced around a track. People were cheering. A few shouted curse words.

  The warmth of King’s body as he moved closer to my side made me tremble. His hand slid over my hip, and he leaned down. “The horse that just won was one of ours. Not here, but from our ranch in Ocala, Florida,” he explained as his hand moved down over my butt. “A lot of bets were placed, so majority of the folk here won a good deal of money.” His fingers brushed the skin just past the edge of my shorts.

  I jerked, but said nothing, nor did I move when he slid his hand over until the tips of his fingers were underneath my shorts and edging between my legs. Breathing was getting more difficult.

  “You want a drink?” he asked me, swiping a finger inside the crotch of my panties.

  I grabbed his arm then and let out a small sound. The tingle that shot through me was unfamiliar and startling.

  While I tried to suck in some air, King pulled his hand out from under my shorts and moved it back to my waist. “Let’s go get you a drink. There’s food too. You hungry?”

  I stared up at him. Was he serious? My entire body felt flushed, and I was panting, yet he seemed as if he hadn’t just had his hand inside my panties.

  “What?” I asked when his eyes met mine.

  He grinned and then stuck a finger inside his mouth and sucked. I stared at him, gaping. Was that the one he’d touched me with?

  “That’s even better than I imagined,” he said in a husky tone, then tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear with his damp finger. “What do you want to drink?”

  “Moira is fucking Wells in the hot tub,” Thatcher announced as he walked into the room.

  King didn’t even glance his way. He nodded his head toward the bar, then pressed his palm to my back to lead me over to it so I could get a drink.

  “I bet he’s not spanking her ass the way she likes,” Storm called out as he moved the girl in his lap to straddle him.

  I jerked my eyes off them, wishing I hadn’t looked over there again. She was topless now, and I wasn’t sure if they were going to have sex right there in front of everyone. Surely not.

  “Tell me what you want to drink, sweets,” King said to me.

  I shook my head. I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure I could drink. His hand covered mine, and he walked me around to the other side of the bar, then came up behind me, placing both his hands on either side of me, caging me in.

  “They’ve all been drinking. Three of our horses won today. Everyone is celebrating,” he said as he bent down and pressed a kiss to my bare shoulder. “They’re gonna fuck, sweets. It’s what they do. They will do it so everyone can see. Tell me what you want to drink, and I’ll take you upstairs so you don’t have to watch.”

  Was he going to leave me there? Then what? Come back down here and join the orgy or whatever this was about to become?

  “Vodka soda,” I whispered, deciding I needed something stronger if I was going to survive this.

  He dropped his arms and moved away from my back. I immediately missed his warmth, but I didn’t want to think about that too deeply. I had too many other thoughts going through my head. Like the fact that he’d touched me and sucked his finger.

  I placed a hand on my cheek, and it was warm. I was warm. Everything was warm.

  “Here you go, sweets,” he said, placing a drink in my hand.

  My fingers wrapped around the cold glass, and I was tempted to press it against my flushed face. Just to cool off.

  King’s hand was on my back again. “Time to leave unless you want to watch the show.”

  I started walking as he nudged me on. My eyes locked with Thatcher’s, and he smirked, then closed his eyes and stretched his neck. It was then that I realized a woman was on her knees in front of him. Holy crap. I jerked my gaze back to the door and kept it focused on the exit. Getting out of here.

  When we were out of the sex den, I stopped walking. “I want to go back to the cottage. I don’t want to be left alone upstairs.” Why had he brought me to this? Clearly, he’d known this was what would happen.

  “I’m not leaving you alone upstairs,” King replied and turned me the opposite way from where we had entered.

  I continued on, but I wanted clarification. “Are you not coming back down here…for the celebrating?”

  “No.”

  We reached a set of stairs, and I turned around fully to stare up at him. “Why don’t you just take me back to the house and leave me?”

  His gaze ran over my face as if he was trying to memorize it. “Because you had a shock tonight and I’m not leaving you alone. You’ll be scared. You won’t get any rest.”

  This was all very true. Being alone at the house probably was going to be hard to do now. After all I’d found out and the gunfire.

  I nodded.

  “Can we go upstairs now?” he asked me with a crooked grin on his gorgeous face.

  I sighed and headed up the stairs. This was all getting more confusing and messed up, the longer I stayed. My life no longer made sense. Nothing did. I was developing feelings for a man, and I had no business doing that. I had no future. Not really. At least not anymore.

  At the top of the stairs, I stopped, and King pointed toward the door to the right. “That’s my room.”

  “Your room?” I asked, glancing back at him.

  He nodded. “I live here most of the time.”

  He lived in a barn? Or stables? Granted, they were nicer than most homes in the neighborhood I had lived in with Hill, but still, why would he live here?

  King stepped around me and opened the door, then waved a hand for me to go inside. Curious to see where it was King lived most of the time, whatever that meant, I walked into the room. It was much bigger than I had anticipated.

  The king-size bed sat against the far wall with black sheets and a charcoal-gray quilt. To the right was a gray leather sofa that sat caddy-corner and a coffee table that had paperwork spread out on it, like he had been working on something. I realized it was facing the flat screen on the wall in front of the bed.

  Underneath the television was a wide dresser in flat black, and then on the left side of the room was an open door to the en suite. There were no pictures on the walls or any other kind of decor. There were no windows, but oddly enough, it didn’t feel closed in. It was clean, tidy even.

  King stepped inside behind me, and I heard the click of the door as it closed, and then his body stood too close. The warmth from it made me want to turn around and snuggle closer. Inhale his woodsy cinnamon scent. I wasn’t going to do that though. Didn’t mean I couldn’t fantasize about it.

  “You going to stand here all night or go get comfortable on the sofa? We can watch a movie,” he said so close to my ear that his breath tickled my skin.

  I tensed as his hand touched my waist. Now that we were up here, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Not after what he had done downstairs.

  “What are you…we…what are—” I stumbled over my words, not sure how to ask this.

  “Go sit down, Rumor,” he replied as he squeezed my side.

  Since I wasn’t the best at forming complete sentences currently, I did as he’d asked—or perhaps told me to do would be more accurate. I went to the sofa, not looking back at him and wondering if he was going to follow. My gaze dropped to the paperwork spread out on the table just as he leaned over and began to pick it up, placing it in a pile before taking it away. I turned and watched as he opened a drawer on his dresser and placed the papers inside. Before he could look back at me, I took a seat on the sofa with my glass clasped firmly with both hands.

 
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