Page 118 of Exposed

I shake my head against his chest and feel his cock, long and hard, pressed to my tummy. I look up at him as an ache forms inmy soul. “Dex did this because of me. This isn’t like him when it comes to business. This is personal. He thinks we’re engaged—that I’m pregnant with your child. He did this to you to hurt me. And it worked.”

King stares down at me with guarded blue eyes. “Maybe. But I got the money. It’s processed, and the dogs hit on it right away. We need to find out where they’re stashing the rest of it. When we find it all and connect it to him, we can shut him down. Until then, if this is the worst Dex Carter can do to me and I get you in return, bring it the fuck on. Hell, I’ll take worse.”

Hot water steams the shower and runs down our bodies that might as well be one. “Don’t say that. Please. I can’t stand to see you like this.”

He brings a hand up to frame my face. “I mean every fucking word, Goldie. And don’t think I didn’t get my shots in before I left. I did. Randall Becerra can kiss my ass. I can’t wait for that motherfucker to rot in prison.”

I shake my head as he swipes the wet hair from my face, and his eyes drop to my lips. I press my tummy into his rock-hard erection, loving the feel of it. His fingers tense in my hair, and his lips land on mine.

With cut skin and swollen lips, he takes my mouth and kisses me hard. My tongue moves with his as he turns us and presses my back to the tile wall. I let my fingers trail lightly over his sides where they land low on his hips.

I give him a push. He rests a forearm above my head on the tile and looks down at me with water dripping between us.

“Why me?” I ask.

He doesn’t question my question or my timing. It’s like he gets it. Like he’s asked the same thing about himself.

Instead of telling me all the warm and fuzzy reasons why he chose me to introduce to his family, why he’s here with me right now, and why I’m the woman worth the frustration rather thanany other human who makes up half the population, he doesn’t actually make me feel better.

“I don’t know. I wish I knew. All I know is this doesn’t feel wrong. And it’s never not felt wrong before. And the fact that you’re you—a fucking romantic when I’m nothing close to one—and you haven’t told me to get the hell out yet—gives me hope that there’s a chance I can make you happy.”

My weight slumps against the wall. “You’re right. That wasn’t at all romantic.”

He shakes his head like he’s so frustrated with himself he can’t stand it. “I wish I could give you that. I don’t know how to be that person.”

I slide my hand up the middle of his chest, careful not to touch an inch of skin that’s bruised or marred. The thought of him experiencing any pain slices through me.

“I’d never want you to be anyone other than who you are. Being a romantic at heart isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” I don’t tell him why and wrap my hand around his neck and rise up on my toes to press my lips to his.

“Baby—” he starts, but I press a light finger to his lips.

I kiss his chest.

His pec.

His abs.

King shifts back enough for me to slide my back down the tile as I press my lips to the indention below his waist that creates the V before settling onto my knees.

I peek up at him through the water that drips from him to me.

He pushes the wet hair from my face. His thumb is heavy when he drags it across my bottom lip and presses in. I wrap my lips around it to give him a firm suck before letting go with a pop.

I don’t stop.

His lips part when my tongue sneaks out to taste the underside of his cock.

Smooth.

Hard.

Wet.

He takes his cock in his hand and drags the tip across my lips before he presses in.

I feel his groan on my tongue where his smooth silk invades my mouth. “Fuck, baby. You make me question everything.”

My heart clenches as I suck him in deep. How can a man make me feel things when he never says anything right?

---