Slay, p.23
Slay,
p.23
It had also been difficult. Seeing all these people, this family, and knowing the truth about them. Finding a way to associate the Mafia with these people I had come to care for wasn’t easy.
Having morals and realizing that your loyalty could shake the ground on which you had thought you stood firm wasn’t an easy pill to swallow. It was a reevaluation of yourself. Who you were. What you had become. What made you who you were. Your core.
“This isn’t a family event,” he said as my curl slid from his fingers.
“Then, what is it?”
He slipped a finger under my chin. “It’s Maeme wanting to check on you.”
She worried about me more than anyone ever had. One of those things that nagged at me. I had known many people in my life. I had been placed in different homes. Had to trust strangers. Never had I trusted any of them the same way I did Maeme. With her, I truly felt that she cared. She wanted me safe.
It seemed unfair. Why couldn’t I overlook the bad with King? Trust him like I did her. They were the same essentially. They were a part of this dark underworld thing. She’d lied to me just like he had.
The difference was the fact that I hadn’t slept with her. I hadn’t fallen in love with her. It made a monumental difference. One I could not control. One I wish I had power over.
“She doesn’t have to feed me for that,” I replied.
King took another strand of hair between his fingers and chuckled. “I’ll let you tell her that.”
He knew I would never do such a thing. I said nothing in return as I stood there.
“Come on, sweets. You know you want to go spend hours in the library.”
That was true. Maeme’s library was full of books I wanted to get lost in.
“So, you’re not staying?” I asked him. Unsure what I wanted the answer to be.
“No, I’m not. I’ve got somewhere to be,” he replied. “But I’ll be back tonight. I’ll bring tacos.”
He’d be back. Just hearing him say it made my mood improve.
“I need to get dressed,” I said, moving back away from him. “I won’t be long.”
The last thing I saw before I spun around to rush back into the bedroom was the amused gleam in his eyes. He knew I was weak. His coming every night was him trying to break me down. Win my forgiveness or trust. And I wanted him there. Another one of my problems, but at least I was willing to admit it. I wasn’t lying to myself. Someone had to be honest with me. Might as well be me.
If he was here, then he wasn’t with another woman. I wasn’t positive that he wasn’t with someone else during the day though. But did I really have the right to ask? Maybe before I had drawn the line in our relationship and brought it back to pre-friendship, but now? No, I didn’t.
My mood instantly sank again as I put on a pair of shorts, a blouse, and my sandals.
King was a very sexual man. He had his kinks, and he was used to women throwing themselves at him. Just because he was coming here to babysit me at night didn’t mean he wasn’t tying up some female in the tack room and doing those things to her before he screwed her.
“Give me a grocery list, and I’ll go grab what you want today,” King called from the other room.
I glanced at myself in the mirror. I’d forgotten what it was like to go without makeup. When I’d been married to Hill, I’d had to cover up the bruises so often, and he’d believed I was being lazy if I didn’t put it on every day. I brushed my fingers over my cheekbone. The smooth, unmarked skin reminded me what all I had been given here.
They had lied to me. But they had also saved me. The reflection staring back at me wasn’t the same trusting, wide-eyed girl I had been before marrying Hill. There was a darkness in my eyes that time had placed there. Betrayal had stolen so much from me. A large part of who I was had been snatched away.
Not by the people who had given me somewhere safe to stay, but by the man I had married. All Hill had ever done to me was take from me. Hurt me. Steal any cause for happiness.
King had lied to me, but he’d never hurt me. Being around him made me happy even if I didn’t want it to. Letting myself love him had been a mistake, but it was already done. I just didn’t know where we went from here or how.
“Rumor?” he said as he walked into the room.
My gaze swung from the mirror to him standing just inside the doorframe.
“You good?”
The grocery list. I’d forgotten he’d said that.
I smiled and nodded. “I’m fine,” I replied, then turned to pick up my purse.
“Damn, you sure are filling out a pair of shorts real nice. I like your ass with that bubble to it.”
I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. “Are you saying my butt is getting fat?”
King walked over to me, and I took one step back, not sure I trusted myself to get close to him again and not bury my nose in his shirt.
“I’m saying, I like you eating properly. Your body has always been sexy as fuck, sweets. But with the new curves, it’s damn near poetic.”
“Poetic?” I asked.
His hand slid over my hip. “The kind of dips and swells that inspire the greatest of poetry.” Then, he squeezed the undeniable extra plump that had been added to my bottom, thanks to Maeme’s cooking. “I’d kill whoever you asked me to if I could watch this sweet ass bounce while I was spanking it.”
Oh, good Lord. I took a deep, steadying breath. Stay focused.
We needed to go to Maeme’s. He had things to do. Later, while alone, I’d live out that little fantasy in my head while getting some relief.
“We should go,” I blurted out.
“I’d kiss it real nice,” King said in a husky whisper, pulling me up against him. “But I’d bite it first. Make you scream out. Then, I’d lick it.”
I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep gulp of oxygen. “Stop!” I demanded in a strangled voice.
King let out a low groan before dropping his hand and stepping back. He looked at me through hooded lids, and the hunger flashing in his blue eyes made me tremble.
With a lift of his hands, he moved farther away from me. “I’ll wait outside in the truck,” he said in a raspy voice before leaving me there alone. With my own racing heart and ache between my legs.
• 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).
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