Page 69 of Exposed

This is King.

He spent the night on my sofa so I wasn’t alone. He made me breakfast and stocked my refrigerator. He stood up to Dex.

And he told me I had every reason to be confident in my clearance-rack dress that made me feel prettier than I have in a long, long time.

Or maybe it was just the way King looked at me when he walked into my apartment weighed down with groceries.

He somehow unhooks my seatbelt and pulls me across the console. One of my heels falls to the car floor with a thud as hetwists me across his lap. One hand dips in my hair and the other goes to my bottom.

My hands go to his jaw.

Square.

Stubbled.

Strong.

No one like King has ever touched me, and I’ve never touched anyone like him. There’s something natural about the way we fit.

It’s fake.

Or it’s supposed to be.

But I’ve never felt anything less fake in my life.

When I’m with him, I feel alive.

In fact, I’ve never felt more alive in one way or another since he walked into our lunch meeting.

His hand slides down, and my dress is so short, it doesn’t take long for him to find skin.

He squeezes right below my bottom.

I feel that everywhere and moan into his mouth.

He pulls me tighter and slides his hand up the back of my leg when the phone rings over the Bluetooth again.

King freezes before letting my mouth go. We’re both breathing hard, and all I see are stormy blue eyes when he lets go of my leg to answer the call.

“What?” he growls.

“Hey, your highness. Just letting you know the McLaren pulled into the parking lot after you, took a slow loop to … ah, check on you, and left,” Brax says.

King’s gaze drops to my breasts before focusing on my eyes again. “Where are you?”

“Across the street, Romeo,” Micah barks.

I pull my swollen lips between my teeth and feel my face warm.

King’s microphone. Or wire. Or whatever it is.

I’ll never be able to look them in the face again.

My eyes go wide when King’s hand lands back on my bottom.

His eyes are burning and intense when he says, “Let me get Goldie into her apartment, then you can go.”

“Yeah, you go do that while we go back to the office and write this up and fill out a million reports,” Micah adds, and doesn’t sound happy about anything he just said. “This shit might be amusing as fuck, but you know we can’t keep Tim from finding out about this. The recording cannot be spliced.”

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