Page 76 of Coldhearted King

I was angry when I called her in here. Angry that Tate had her attention—that he was the recipient of her pretty smile when I wanted it directed at me.

But what did I expect? She’d called me on it yesterday. I’d hurt her, and I hadn’t even apologized. I’m not used to saying sorry, and it’s not something I particularly relish doing, but I’ve been less than honest with her when, as far as I know, she’s always been honest with me.

I force down my irrational anger and approach her slowly, as if she’s a wild creature that might leap away from me before I get a chance to touch her. Her throat moves in a swallow as I come to a stop in front of her, but she stays where she is as I invade her personal space.

I take a strand of her silky hair and let it slide through my fingers. “I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I should have told you the truth about Jessica.”

Her eyes widen. “Uh,” she says, clearly taken aback. “Y-yes, you should have.”

“It’s no excuse, but I don’t consider what Jessica and I have had in the past to be a relationship.”

“It didn’t look to me like it was in the past.”

I scowl as I remember Jessica’s behavior on Friday night. “That was all her. I didn’t invite it, and I didn’t want it. She was annoyed because I turned down our usual arrangement, and decided it was a good idea to force my hand.”

Her smooth brow furrows. “Your usual arrangement.”

Fuck. I really don’t want to get into that, but if I plan to be honest with her, I have to be completely honest. “What Jessica and I had was a matter of convenience. Our families move in the same circles. Her father is one of the King Group’s biggest investors, so we’re often at the same social events. Since neither of us is interested in relationships, it made sense for us to attend those events together, and afterward...” I shrug, not sure how much detail Delilah wants me to go into.

She presses her lips together, but only nods. “Thank you for telling me.”

She doesn’t look happy, or even relieved, and I realize what I’ve told her might not have cleared things up adequately. “I didn’t sleep with her Friday night. I haven’t been with her since I met you.”

She lets out a little sigh, and some of the tightness in her shoulders loosens. “Okay.”

I’m getting frustrated now. “I didn’t stop her when she kissed me, because I didn’t want to be photographed publicly rejecting the daughter of our major investor. But she knows not to do it again.”

Delilah nods and clasps her hands in front of her. “I’m glad we’ve cleared that up. If there isn’t anything else, I need to get back to my desk and finish my work.”

I narrow my eyes at her. I’ve apologized, but it doesn’t seem to have fixed anything. What does she want? She’s acting as if the last few weeks didn’t happen. Maybe this is another reminder of why I don’t do relationships. Maybe now that I’ve apologized and gotten it off my chest, I can walk away and stop thinking about her. “That’s all I had to say.”

It might only be in my imagination that she hesitates before she turns for the door, but it’s that possibly imaginary hesitation, coupled with the sway of her hips and the tumble of her dark hair down her back as she walks away from me—hair that I can all too easily recall fisting in my hand as I took her from behind—that has me striding forward.

Before she can swing the door open, I’m slamming my hand against it, holding it shut. I stand close behind her, caging her in, my chest brushing her shoulder blades and my rapidly hardening cock pressing against her ass.

She inhales sharply, her body stilling.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I growl.

She angles her head toward me, just enough so I can see the curve of her cheek and the dark length of her lowered lashes. “What do you mean?” Her voice isn’t as steady as before, which sends a surge of satisfaction through me. She isn’t as unaffected as she’s acting.

I skim my hand over her hip until my fingers curve around her waist. “I apologized. I explained what happened. I told you I haven’t been with her since before I met you. And you’re giving me nothing.” With my other hand, I brush her hair off her neck so I can run my nose along the soft skin, breathe in her scent. “Do you want me to believe you’re done with me—withthis—because I made a mistake?”

A breath shudders out of her as my hand slides up her waist to cup her breast, and I smile to myself as I feel her hard nipple pressing into my palm.

Her head falls forward. “You hurt me, and that’s not what this was supposed to be about. I think it might be better if we just let things go.”

Shock rattles through me, followed by a swift sting behind my ribs. “What if I don’t want to let things go?”

She turns, pressing her back against the door and looking up at me. “Why wouldn’t you? What am I giving you that the Jessicas of the world can’t? You don’t want a relationship with me, so if all you want is sex, why not get it from someone who won’t care when you lie to her?”

Because there’s no comparison between Jessica and her. Because she brings something out of me I didn’t even know was there. That’s why I can’t seem to walk away, even when I know I should. I cup her neck, rub my thumb along her jaw. “I don’t feel anything when I’m with Jessica. Sex between us has always been...” I shake my head. “Fucking cold and empty. It’s different with you. When I touch you, it’s pure fucking heat, and I haven’t had enough. I want more with you.”

Her breath flutters between her parted lips, her eyes searching mine. “More of what?”

“Everything. More time. More of your body.” I dip my head and feather my lips across hers. “More of this.” I hesitate for a heartbeat, then force myself to continue. To give her some of the truth she deserves. “I want your warmth, Delilah. You’re about the only source of it I have. I don’t want to give it up because of Jessica.”

Her eyes soften at my admission. I’ve never said anything like that to anyone, and part of me wants to take the words back. They’re too intimate. Too close to revealing a weakness I thought I’d buried a long time ago.

---