“You good? Because here she comes,” Storm told me.

  I turned back around as Thatcher walked down the stairs with Rumor at his side. The shimmering green dress she wore clung to her every curve and hit way too fucking high on her legs for my liking. She was the most stunning creature I’d ever laid my eyes on, and the man who was supposed to protect her, give her a home, cherish her had paid her mother to kill her. Before she was ever given a chance at life.

  But her mother hadn’t done it. And she was alive and perfect. Walking toward me with that sweet angelic face etched with concern. For me.

  How the hell had I gotten this lucky?

  Unable to wait any longer, I went to her, grabbing her by the waist and taking her mouth. I needed to be reminded she was mine. She was here with me. The past hadn’t happened the way Jefferson May had planned. Her life had been shit because of his neglect, but I’d be sure the rest of it was a motherfucking fairy tale.

  Her hands went to my chest and fisted in my shirt as she leaned into me, wanting more. I was about to give her more. So much more that she was going to be begging me to give her a moment to catch her breath.

  “Get her in the limo,” Thatcher drawled, interrupting us. “Last thing everyone needs to see is you sucking her face off when this is your engagement party to Scotlin.”

  Pulling back, I looked into her eyes and reassured myself that she was fine. I had her now, and all the bad was over. Never again would she live through it.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked me, reaching up to touch my face.

  I leaned into her soft hand. “Nothing now.”

  “He’s one of those psychos disguised with a pretty face. He seems charming and shit until you flip the wrong trigger,” Thatcher said casually.

  She frowned, turning to look at him with a scowl marring her forehead. “He is not a psycho,” she informed him. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

  I heard a laugh, smothered with a cough, behind me.

  “Come on, sweets. Let’s go home.”

  She looked back at me. “But the party. You can’t leave yet.”

  “The fuck he can’t,” Storm said. “Y’all get in, and please, Rumor, keep his ass busy all night.”

  She glanced past me to Storm. “What happened? I missed something.”

  I wasn’t sure if I would be able to tell her the truth about Jefferson May. I knew I had to, but when I did, I couldn’t be sure her reaction wouldn’t send me to the man’s doorstep, ready to slit his goddamn throat again.

  “A lot,” I said. “The only thing you need to know right now is, the fake engagement is over.”

  “It is?”

  The hopefulness in her voice sliced through me. She’d put up with this shit, and I knew it had been hard on her. No more. Never again.

  “Yeah, sweets, it is.”

  “No one believed it anyway.” Wells spoke up. “The way he was watching you all night, it was clear who he wanted.”

  The smile that curled her face made me chuckle. My girl liked that. She paused, and then her eyes went wide in shock.

  “Sebastian!” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “What happened to your face!”

  I hadn’t paid any attention to him earlier, but now looking at the blood on his face and on the front of his shirt, I should have probably had him go somewhere else before she saw him.

  His eyes swung to me. He wasn’t about to tell her I had done it.

  “He ran into the back of King’s head,” Storm said, then pointed at the open door of the limo, wanting us gone.

  “How did you do that?” she asked him as we reached the limo.

  “Accident. He’s clumsy as fuck,” I told her, then placed a hand on her ass to keep her dress down while nudging her to get inside.

  I looked back at him. “I’d say we’re even now.”

  “For what?” Wells asked.

  “For touching Rumor,” Storm explained.

  I knew she had heard him when her head swung around to look at me in horror.

  Grinning, I climbed inside as Storm closed the door behind me.

  “What, sweets? I can’t help it if he ran into my head.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not telling me the truth. He barely touched my elbow, King.”

  “Don’t care,” I told her, pulling up her dress and sliding my hand between her thighs. “And you won’t either in about five seconds.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but the moment I slid my finger inside of her panties, she let out a gasp instead and spread her legs open like the good girl she was.

  • Thirty-Three •

  That’s it. Scream. I want people to hear you.

  Rumor

  There had once been a time when I would have given anything to know my father. I had fantasized about it for so many years. What he looked like. What he would say when he found me. Unfortunately, none of those daydreams had turned out to be reality.

  Jefferson May was very likely the man whose sperm had helped create me, but he was and would never be anything more. Having the truth about my conception, the two people who had given me life, it changed nothing really. It didn’t destroy me. Other than a small pang of what I would never have, it affected me very little.

  I didn’t need parents. I had Maeme. I didn’t need a father who loved and adored me. I had a man who met all my needs. King was everything to me. All the love in the world couldn’t compare to the way he made me feel. He cherished me, and every time I caught him looking at me as if I were the only light in his life, I knew that I had found my home.

  King was my home. He was better than anything I could have imagined or even hoped for. I was complete.

  I placed a hand on the small bump underneath my shirt. We were complete. The life inside of me was a part of us, and she would never know a life where her father didn’t adore her and her mother didn’t love her unconditionally.

  Strong arms came around me, and King’s much larger hands covered mine. I laid my head back on his chest and sighed with contentment. We had moved into his house two months ago, shortly after the engagement party.

  King had refused to continue the fake engagement, and thankfully, after Blaise Hughes heard about what had happened, he agreed that they had to go another route. King could no longer be allowed near Jefferson. I’d feared Blaise’s reaction, but King had said that he understood.

  Today, we were going to paint the nursery pink. My intuition had been right. We were having a little girl. I still wished I had a photo of King’s face when Dr. Drew told us. He’d looked lost and terrified, all at once. He had thought it was a boy. In his mind, a boy was something durable and tough. He saw a girl as someone fragile. I had a lot to teach him about that, clearly.

  “What are you standing out here thinking about?” he asked against my ear.

  “Us. Our life. Picturing the swing set she will have one day, over there by the oak tree,” I replied.

  I had always wanted a swing set with a playhouse attached.

  King nuzzled my ear. “That’s funny.”

  I tilted my head back to look up at him. “What is?”

  He pressed a kiss to my nose. “That you were thinking about swing sets while I was thinking about bending you over the rail and fucking you from behind.”

  A laugh bubbled out of me. “I might be convinced.”

  He pressed another kiss to my lips. “Tell me what I need to do, and I will.”

  I turned around until I was facing him and pushed down my shorts. “Use your imagination,” I replied.

  His eyes dropped to my legs, and then he reached between them, running a finger over my slit. “You sure you were thinking about swing sets, sweets? This pussy is soaking wet.”

  I sucked in some air and nodded. “Yeah, but lately, I stay wet and achy.”

  His eyes flared. “Achy? As in you need to come?”

  I nodded.

  “It feels different,” he said, lowering himself to his knees and pushing my legs open so he could inspect me. He slid his knuckles through my open lips. “It looks swollen,” he murmured, then leaned in to lick, causing my knees to buckle.

  “Mmm, I’m gonna need to eat it first,” he said, grabbing the chair closest to him and pushing me down into it. “Can’t have you collapsing on me.” He took my right leg and put it over the arm of the chair. “Damn, that’s pretty.”

  I watched as he slid his hands under my bottom and pulled me to him before burying his face there and humming with pleasure as his tongue took long, slow strokes.

  I slid my fingers into his hair and arched up to meet his mouth. He squeezed and pressed me in closer, growling as he did it.

  “King,” I panted, my head falling back on the chair.

  “That’s my sweet girl. I want your cum all over my face. So I can smell you all day.”

  His naughty talk always sped things up.

  I pulled at his hair and cried out, knowing that I was about to come. It gripped me, and I felt the gush as he let out a hungry groan just as my body splintered into a million brilliant, orgasmic pulses.

  King licked my thighs as if he didn’t want to miss a drop before taking my hand and jerking me out of the chair, then spinning me around. His hand slapped my ass hard, causing me to jump. “That’s my fucking good girl,” he snarled as he slapped the other side. “Opening for me. So sweet. Now, you’re gonna squeeze my cock and take my load.”

  I moaned and nodded.

  He slammed into me hard, causing the chair to scrape against the deck. I cried out, gripping on to it to keep from falling.

  “That’s it. Scream. I want people to hear you. Know I own this pussy. I’m the one filling it up.” He wrapped my hair around his hand and pulled back, causing my back to bend, then took my mouth hard.

  I could taste myself, and it made me tremble from the dirtiness of it and how much I liked it.

  “It’s fucking sweet, isn’t it?” he said as he thrust inside of me.

  I felt another orgasm coming and let out a low moan just as he jerked behind me. I met his thrusts, wanting it as wild and unhinged as he could give it. Dark, dirty, twisted words fell from his mouth as our bodies slapped against each other.

  When the climax took me, I shouted his name, and his arms wrapped around me as his release shot inside of me.

  We’d had sex in most rooms of the house, but this was a first for the back patio. Smiling, I fell forward, resting my head on my hands, which were still holding on to the chair.

  He moved away from me, but I didn’t move—I knew not to. He wanted to see it. He always wanted to see it. I shivered as his fingers played with his cum leaking from me, and he shoved it back inside me. Turning my head, I opened my mouth obediently, and he slid those same fingers into my mouth for me to suck.

  “Almost fucking perfect.” His voice was thick.

  Almost?

  He removed his fingers from between my lips, and I let them go. Then, he tugged his jeans back up before reaching into his pocket. I glanced up at his face, confused, as I turned to sit down on the chair, about to ask him about that almost comment.

  Before I did, he lowered himself to one knee and took my hand.

  I saw it then.

  The diamond ring glittering in the sunlight. I sucked in a breath as he picked up my hand and slid it onto my finger. He lifted his eyes to look at me with a wicked smile on his handsome face. Taking my hand, he kissed my ring finger.

  “Now, it’s perfect.”

  Coming May 22, 2024

  SIZZLING book three in the Georgia Smoke Series

  Get ready for Storm Kingston

  About Abbi

  Abbi Glines is a #1 New York Times, USA Today, Wall Street Journal, and International bestselling author of the Rosemary Beach, Sea Breeze, Smoke Series,Vincent Boys, Boys South of the Mason Dixon, and The Field Party Series. She is also author to the Sweet Trilogy and the Black Souls Trilogy. She believes in ghosts and has a habit of asking people if their house is haunted before she goes in it. Her house was built in 1820 and she finally has her own haunted house but they’re friendly spirits. She drinks afternoon tea because she wants to be British but alas she was born in Alabama although she now lives in New England (which makes her feel a little closer to the British). When asked how many books she has written she has to stop and count on her fingers and even then she still forgets a few. When she’s not locked away writing, she is entertaining her first grade daughter, she is reading (if everyone in her house including the ghosts will leave her alone long enough), shopping online (major Amazon Prime addiction), and planning her next Disney World vacation (and now that her oldest daughter Annabelle works at Disney she has an excuse to frequent it often).

  You can connect with Abbi online in several different ways. She uses social media to procrastinate.

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  Snapchat: abbiglines

 

 

  Abbi Glines, Slay King

 

 

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