Page 20 of Slay King

“You didn’t ask me about this,” I said to him as we stopped at the passenger door. “What if I didn’t want to go with you?”

His eyes snapped to mine. “You don’t want to go with me?”

That wasn’t the point.

“I don’t even have my things.”

King moved in front of me, caging me against the side of his truck. “Sweets, I fucked up. But you’ve forgiven me. I know you drew your lines, and there were rules, but after the other night and that conversation we just had in the library, I assumed things had changed. You might not trust me, but you don’t want me with another woman. I don’t want another woman. So, we agree on that. Now, I want to fuck you. I want you in my room, in my bed, in my shower. The best I can do right now is take you to my room in the stables. Keeping you there. With my things. You’re safe there. It’s safer than even Maeme’s. I won’t have to worry when I can’t be with you. Please.” He paused and wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me against his body. “Don’t fight me on this. The two weeks I went without being inside your hot little cunt were fucking brutal.”

I swallowed hard and felt my body melt against his as I leaned in closer without even realizing I was doing it. “Okay.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

“That’s my girl,” he replied with a slow grin spreading across his face. “Let’s go before I fuck you against this damn truck and Maeme puts a bullet in my ass.”

He reached behind me to open the door while pulling me away from the truck and with him as he stepped back.

• Nine •

Did that make me deranged?

Rumor

Sleeping on sheets that smelled like King was nothing compared to walking back into his room at the stables. Being away from it, I had forgotten how his scent clung to the space. Would his house be like this too? Everywhere I went, I’d be engulfed in King. As if he needed anything more to make me weak and stupid.

“How did you acquire a room here? Since you have a house?” I asked as he dropped his keys on the dresser.

He smirked. “Once, Wilder, Thatcher, and I all stayed out here. Wilder moved out first. He got a girl pregnant, and they married. Our twenties were fun here, but the closer we got to thirty, we wanted something of our own. Thatcher had a house built farther back on this property. I did the same on the Salazar land, but I kept my room here. Comes in handy when I need to be close.”

He walked to me and loomed over me, his gaze trailing along my features as he did so. “I hadn’t stayed here in months, but once I got you settled in the shotgun house, I wanted to be close. Make sure I was here if you needed anything. I moved back in. Until last night, I hadn’t slept at my house since your second night here.”

That was something. He’d stayed close for me. He might not admit it or put a name to it, but he had felt something from day one. Even if I had been a nervous mess, I could admit I’d found him attractive.

He moved quickly then, taking me by surprise, and scooped me up in his arms.

“King!” I squealed, wrapping my arms around his neck as he walked me over to the sofa and sank down on it with me in his lap.

“Ask,” he said, keeping his arms around my waist.

“Ask what?”

The charming grin that should come with a warning label touched his lips. “Everything. What do you want to know?”

Unsure why he was doing this, I tried to read his expression. “Why?” I finally asked.

His hand moved up my back and tugged on my hair playfully. “Because you want to know, and when I strip you naked and fuck you in the shower, I’d like all your thoughts to be on that. Us. So, ask me, sweets. What is going on in that head of yours?”

A nervous laugh tumbled from my lips as I dropped my gaze down to study the front of his shirt. “No pressure or anything,” I replied.

He pulled back on my hair hard enough to tilt my head back until my eyes met his.

“It’s not a test. I’m simply telling you that you can ask me whatever you want. I’ll answer. Even if I don’t want to.”

I was torn. Afraid of the things I might not want to know. But aware I needed to know before I went any further. Loving a man who didn’t see a future in any relationship was brave. It would be the bravest thing I’d done. Running from Hill had been reckless and desperate. I couldn’t think of it as brave. But this … this I had time to consider. He would leave me one day. This would end, and right now, this emotion, which was so much stronger than anything I had ever experienced, I knew it was love. The reclusive thing I had always sought and never truly found. I knew the real thing now. At least how it felt for me.

Perhaps that was all I was meant to experience. Love was a gift that wasn’t promised to anyone. Right now, King wanted me, and I knew without question that I was going to do this. Take whatever he gave me.

“When is your birthday?” I asked him.

“July 27,” he replied. “And yours is May 21.”

---