Page 69 of Clean Slade
“Come on, Gianni. Let’s go. We’ve got business to attend to anyway,” he said, turning away as if it was his decision.
I guessed, in a way, it was.
Nino put his dog on the ground and started following before stopping and returning to me.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” he whispered. “He wouldn’t stop. I thought things might go better if I came with him.”
I looked at my brother and grimaced.
“I don’t trust him, and I don’t trust you either.”
Nino nodded and put his hand on my shoulder.
“I know you don’t, but I promise…” He dropped his voice even lower, turning the whisper into a barely audible growl. “I would never let him hurt Ales—Mackenzie. Trust me.”
I wanted to believe him. I really did. But I didn’t know how.
“Prove it,” I told him.
Even I didn’t know how he could do that, short of killing my father, but it was a challenge I had to give if I was going to bring my father’s reign to an end.
SEVENTEEN
SLADE
Monday came way too soon, and both King and I had to go back to our normal lives, although normal in our case was a little bit of an overstatement.
Mainly, I had to return to pretending we hadn’t kissed. That I hadn’t tasted him for the first time after all those years. That he didn’t set my whole soul alight with his lips.
He was good at pretending. Sunday passed as if Saturday had never happened. Not the awkward dinner with the in-laws and not the kiss—the mind-blowing kiss—in his bedroom.
I couldn’t blame him for trying to erase at least part of that day, but the other?
I didn’t understand why he wouldn't let me in. Maybe he just needed his time. And I was willing to give him that if that was what he needed.
So I became good at pretending too, but teasing him every chance I got. Not just the following day but the day after that and on.
Until somehow, another week was nearing its end, and the promise of another weekend at home with him made me feel all giddy and excited over the promise of what could be.
I knew it was stupid, of course. Just because I’d given King space for a few days didn’t mean he’d come to me and tell me everything plaguing him.
And just because another weekend was close didn’t mean we’d have another chance at kissing.
But I couldn’t help wanting it. I couldn’t help dreaming about it, imagining his body pinned to mine and the warmth of his skin scorching mine.
Those thoughts roused me from my sleep and, of course, I started yet another day with an aching boner and a throbbing need for King.
I imagined he was next to me, giving me that rare smile of his and greeting me with a good-morning kiss and a wandering hand.
I stretched in my bed, trying to wake up my muscles, but all that did was make the ache in my underpants even more intense.
But I didn’t give up. I reached for my phone and mindlessly scrolled dance videos and life hacks, but my cock didn’t relent.
I’d worked so hard not to fantasize about him, not let myself go in that way because…how would I look him in the eye after doing that? After living in his house and looking after his daughter?
Maybe a cold shower would help. Which was exactly what I did next. Jumped in the shower and washed another night away, hoping it would kick him out of my head. But he’d taken permanent residence there, so it was no surprise when that didn’t work either.
Maybe there was only so much restraint I could handle before I exploded. Maybe allowing myself the fantasy just this once would quench the thirst my body seemed to have for King.
