Page 32 of Tempting the King

Me: What, baby? Tell me everything.

Emee: All my clients for tomorrow canceled as well… Maybe they heard about the fire, but it’s weird.

Sure, it’s weird. But not that weird, when you consider it was me that sent them messages from your scheduling program and canceled their appointments.

Me: Yes, weird. You need some time to get yourself organized, right? You like to be organized. Oh, and since you don’t have your wallet or a license, I’m sending you a number for a car service. They are waiting for your call, and it’s all set up. Ubers can be dangerous. I don’t want you getting in a car with a stranger.

Emee: King, you don’t need to do that.

Me: I do what I do. And, I didn’t cancel. I’ll see you in the morning, baby.

Victor walks toward me, tapping on his phone. “Hey, I saw there was a fire at the office building where that cuddler is.”

“Yeah.”

“Some poor Bentley took a potted plant to the roof, too.”

I shrug. “Didn’t see anything.”

He stares at me for a long minute, then rolls his eyes. “You fucking… Tell me you’re joking, man.” His upper lip twists in a snarl. “Right now, tell me you had nothing to do with that fire. Or that car. That chaos has your signature all over it.”

He puts a hand out to keep me from walking by, then shoves me into the locker.

Anyone else did that, I’d rip their arm off and fuck them up the ass with it.

Victor only gets a pass because he’s a friend, and I’m riding the high from hearing that little squeaky chirp she makes in her throat when she comes.

And, hearing her call me her King?

My fucking soul left my body.

I shove Victor’s hand off my shoulder. “I did what I had to do.”

“Jesus fucking…” He turns, taking the four steps to his locker and grabbing his helmet off the shelf inside. “Arson is no joke, man, they find out you did that shit you’re going to fucking jail. How you gonna be there for the team then, asshole?”

“Was there a fire?” I bark, slamming my fists into his chest then throwing my hands up. “Did anyone see any fire? A fire alarm does not arson make, my friend.” I tug my jersey on over my head, jerking it as it gets stuck in my shoulder pads, finally pulling it into place. “And the car thing was personal. Some swinging dick tells me he wants to fuck my girl? Shit needed handled.”

“Please tell me you’re not…” Victor growls. “Jesus fucking Christ, man, you could have any puck bunny you want, and you decide to bang the therapist?”

I huff. “Shut your mouth. I didn’t bang anyone.”

He studies me for a moment, before shaking his head, his finger in my face. “This is not fucking happening. No fucking way. Are you going to fuck her to make sure she gives you some glowing report? That shit is going to blow up right in your ugly fucking face. You want your whole team to pay for your bullshit?”

“Something wrong with your ears? I said we didn’t fuck.”

“Yeah? Well, then, explain the words my girl to me, because that shit sounds like you’re fucking her.”

“Fuck you.” I grunt. “You say pussy one more time I’m knocking your fucking gold tooth out.”

She’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.

The equipment manager turns the corner with my skates in his hand, eyeing me, then Victor, before making the smart decision to leave them sitting on the bench without a word.

Victor shuts his mouth, thank Christ. I’m not above knocking out a few more of his teeth if he pushes up on me anymore when it comes to Emee.

I grunt and growl, swearing at no one as I finish getting suited up for practice, while he and the rest of the team do the same.

We walk together out of the locker room into the chilled air blowing down the hall from the rink. We’re two steps out the door when Victor turns to me, his face serious. “Okay, so you didn’t fuck her. But you wanted to. Dude, I’ve never seen you like this over pussy.”

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