Page 75 of Kneel with the King
Everything I built, every late night and sacrificed weekend, every pitch and negotiation—it’s all being swallowed whole by a man who called me sweetheart with his hand around my throat. And the worst part? I don’t know if I want to kill him or fuck him. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Maybe I just want him to give me something real, something solid to stand on while the ground underneath me turns to ash.
Except I have no idea what he wants, no idea how we’ll ever move forward from this.
We don’t talk as we walk into the forest. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s not entirely without emotion either. There’s something fragile in the silence, like a truce, or the ghost of one. There’s too much energy to truly forgive and forget. I can feel it crawling beneath my skin, and my mind is ping-ponging between anger at the betrayal, sympathy for the way he wasraised, pride for how far he’s come, and then there’s the ever-present arousal whenever I’m around him, which I haven’t let myself delve into yet.
It’s a ticking time bomb, and I’m not ready for what might happen when I admit my attraction to him and men in general. It’s something I’ve been running away from since I was in high school, since I had a crush on my best friend who happened to be a straight football player. And since then, I only ever really let myself indulge when I drink, because it’s easy to forget about and play it off as being drunk.
There are a myriad of issues just waiting to explode out of me, and I should probably start seeing a therapist. I think Ari’s best friend is married to a psychiatrist, but I’m also pretty sure he hated my guts when I was dating Ari.
All of it feels like I’m walking on a tightrope, and I don’t know if I want to keep going with the impossible task or to fall and let things happen as they may.
Both options terrify me for different reasons.
As we walk, King doesn’t offer an apology, and I don’t ask for one. We’re both still too proud for that. Marina was right—in the bedroom, I don’t mind submitting. I’d never admit this, but I sort of enjoy it in a strange way. The ability to let go and stop thinking, to have someone guide me, to be told I’m doing a good job… it’s almost addicting. But outside of the bedroom, there’s a reason I’m as successful as I am. King and I clash because we’re both bull-headed. You have to be in our industry.
At one point, King reaches out, like he’s going to brush a speck of snow off my shoulder, but he stops halfway through. Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets and keeps walking.
I don’t know what that means.
Like I said… it’s all so fuckingconfusing.
I’m exhausted from trying to figure out which version of King I’ll get next, the Dominant who holds me steady, or thebusinessman who plays chess with people’s livelihoods—mine included. He’s so obstinate—firm and unyielding.Resolute.He’s like a rock I keep trying to split open, but he refuses to break.
We walk in silence for a while, the crunch of boots on snow the only sound between us. Pines line the path like tall statues, their branches dusted white, like something from a postcard. It’s beautiful, and for the first time, the sun is shining. The light glimmers against the fresh snow, and if it weren’t for my mental volatility, I might appreciate the landscape a bit more than I currently am.
King keeps glancing at me like he wants to say something.
And I keep imagining how easy it would be to shove him into a snowbank and walk away.
The silence is overpowering, and to no one’s surprise, I’m the one who breaks first.
“You really weren’t going to tell me?” I snap, stopping in my tracks.
King turns, brow raised. “Tell you what?”
“About the acquisition.”
He exhales slowly. “I figured you’d find out eventually. Though I hoped the news would trickle through after the retreat.”
“Jesus, Ambrose.” I laugh, the sound bitter and cold. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I didn’t owe you that information, just so we’re clear. I make business decisions all the time. You know my motto.”
It’s just business.
My eyes flash. “Bullshit. We’ve been sharing a fucking bed. You’ve had your tongue in my mouth. You knew what Fuse meant to me. Youknew.”
He looks almost defensive, as if I’m the one handing him a massive betrayal. “I also knew you’d never grow the firm without someone pushing you to do it. Not unless I dropped it intoyour hands. You’ve been coasting for a long time, Asher. You’ve gotten complacent in your old age,” he adds, his lips twitching.
“Are you seriously making a joke right now?” I ask incredulously.
He holds his hands up. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just saying, maybe you needed this push.”
“You think this is noble?” I bark. “Some masterstroke of business ethics? You blindsided me.”
“I did what you would’ve done if you weren’t too busy clinging to pride and nearly killing yourself from stress.”
“I’m not?—”
