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 Truth
The Sinful Series, Book One
2018 © Trilina Pucci LLC

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.

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 Table of Contents

Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Part One
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Part Two
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Other Books
Acknowledgments
About the Author

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To Anthony, our truth will always be love.

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Intense, unbridled sexual desire often manifesting in perverse, immoral
sexual acts.
It’s said the impurity of lust transforms one into “a slave of the devil”—
Henry Edward Manning

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OceanofPDF.com
RUNNING MY HANDS OVER THE rectangular glass name placard on my desk, I
can’t help but whisper my name, Drew Matthews, VP of Branding and
Marketing, as I trace the etching. This was the glass ceiling, the one I ran
toward at a million miles per hour until I shattered it at the Cohen
Management Team. Damn, just looking at my name makes me bounce in
my chair, kicking out my legs and wiggling my arms in silent celebration.
I’m not sure I allowed myself to fully process the promotion; I’ve been
trying so hard to act like I expected this, to never validate the idea that this
really is a dream, a wild, fucking incredible dream come true.
I worked my ass off for this position and this corner office. I would’ve
sold my grandma for this view alone. I definitely traded having any form of
a life over the last ten years. When I started at this company right out of
college, I knew I was going to have an uphill battle, but I’ve never been the
kind of girl to shy away from a challenge. I refused to let anyone ignore my
voice or take my success, so I guess they didn’t really have a choice but to
give me this damn promotion. I decided it was mine years ago.
Relaxing back into my cool white leather chair, I throw my legs up onto
my mahogany desk and look out at the city view. My view.
A knock at my door grabs my attention. “Come in.” Pulling my legs
from the desk, I sit more formally as the door opens, bringing with it my
best friend, Gretchen. She transferred two years ago to start working in
marketing and alongside me.
“Holy shit! Drew, this view…these windows—it’s a whole wall. You
have a fucking wall of windows. Damn girl, you did it.” Her happiness is
contagious, and I stand, then walk around my desk to hug her. This is
exactly why I love my best friend so much: she doesn’t know how to not be
proud of me. Squeezing her tight, we turn and look out the windows in
silence for a moment.
“I did it.” My voice is disbelief, not out of a lack of confidence but out
of the surreal feeling that has me in its hold. It’s a rare occasion when your
dreams come true. I feel shell-shocked but grateful that I dug in and stuck it
out. I earned this—every square foot and piece of gold-leaf stationary is
deserved—but it wasn’t without help.
“Gretchen, I’m about to do something else. It’s my first line of business
as head of this department. You might want to sit down.” Her head swings
so fast, I almost burst out laughing, but keep a serious look on my face.
Walking to the desk, I lean my backside against it, motioning for her to
have a seat in one of the chairs facing me.
“If you fire me, I will burn your office down.” She might. She’s a
genius, no-nonsense but slightly crazy; it’s part of her charm like her foul
mouth and addiction to cat videos.
“Shut up! I’m not firing you. I want you to be here, in these offices with
me. You deserve to be here.” Seeing her face change as the understanding
sinks in is priceless. “Your ideas are fresh and inventive, and that’s what
badass chicks do…we lift each other up. So, what do you say? Director of
Marketing sound good?”
“Hell yes!” Leaning out from the chair, she high-fives me, and I finally
laugh. She rubs her hands conspiratorially. “Now we can go out for a
double celebration? You can’t say no, not now. This is the one time we go
out and celebrate. I’ll quit if you say no.” Smirking, she leans back into the
plush chair, clearly loving her ultimatum.
“I’m so not saying no! I deserve this. Let’s go all out—it’s Friday after
all.”
“Perfect. Meet later…your place?”
“Sounds like a plan, G.”
Walking out, she leaves me to finish getting myself settled into my new
office and do some work I can’t neglect. The remainder of the afternoon
flies by, and I rush home to get changed to meet Gretchen. This is exactly
the night out I need. I’ve been so focused on this goal that my love life is
nonexistent. It’s all about balance, I whisper to myself, smiling as I apply
my red lip stain.
After locking my apartment door, I walk down the hall and push out of
the doors of my building in Old Town, Chicago. I love this city, and tonight
embodies why: the weather is perfect on this June night, even with the
humidity; people are buzzing around, amped up for what Friday brings,
their laughter finding rhythm with the music wafting down the street from
the music venue and mixing with the smells teasing people from the pizza
shops. Everything is alive and vibrant.
I look around for my bestie, who said she’d be here ten minutes ago. I
love her, but the girl needs a better watch. Gretchen waves from the end of
the block as she walks toward me. Waving back, I start toward her to meet
in the middle. As we meet, I hook her arm. “I’m never leaving this
neighborhood.”
“Absolutely, it’s the best.” She motions ahead, and we walk toward a
cluster of restaurants and taverns just a block down. “But one day we will
be in the suburbs with two kids each, planning playdates.” We both laugh in
unison at her statement.
“Have you met me? I will be in this city with two kids and an assistant
who plans my playdates, but for now, it would be great if I could just find a
date to play with me.” Grimacing at my own pathetic date life, I’m met with
her pursed-lips and an eye roll.
“Ha, yeah. Your lady parts need some loving for sure.” She motions her
head to the bar just ahead as a question, and I nod yes as an answer to both.
“She does, she really does. I’m not sure I even remember how to flirt,
Gretch.”
“It’s like riding a bike. If all else fails, just tell him you give good
head.”
Coughing out of shock, I knock her shoulder with mine.
“Gretch! I am not telling some random guy I give good head.”
She shrugs and grins as if it was a perfectly reasonable idea.
“Or just tell him you want to see his dick,” she says, snapping her
fingers and winking.
“What is wrong with you!” My eyes are tearing at her silliness, and we
laugh as we walk in, finding a spot at the bar and surveying the spot.
Gretchen leans in, asking me to order her martini as she leaves for the
ladies’ room. I nod and grab the bar menu, still entertained by our banter
while perusing the appetizers. Ooh, mini steak sliders.
The bartender walks up and places a napkin on the bar in front of me.
“Hi, anything look good, or would you like a minute?”
“What would you recommend?” Looking up, I smile at the shaved-head
hottie, taken by his sexy grin and brown eyes.
“Depends on what you’re up for…” Placing an elbow on the bar, he
leans in. We are definitely not talking about food, or are we? Shit, I’m way
too rusty. Is he flirting? Dammit, I need to answer…
“I like meat.” As soon as I say it, my eyes grow wide with
embarrassment, exacerbated by the awkward look on the bartender’s face.
“I mean, sorry…uh…I’m a meat eater.” Fuck. This is embarrassing.
Why can’t I make the words stop. “What I mean is, I would love the steak,
but I’m not sure if I can fit that much meat in me.” Death would be
welcomed. What is wrong with me! This is all Gretchen’s fault.
Pushing back off the bar, he nods his head. “Okay, so I’ll give you a
minute to look over the menu?” Smiling awkwardly, he walks away.
If I could disappear, that would be perfect.
Gretchen walks back to the bar and grabs her purse. “Hey, so, let’s hit
another spot—nobody cute here, and now that you annihilated any chance
of either of us sleeping with the hot bartender, we can’t stay.” Her giggle is
joined by my own as I grab my clutch to follow her fast getaway.
“Yes, please.” I put my hands over my face to as we exit the bar. “I’m
embarrassed of myself…I couldn’t stop it from coming out! And I kept
making it worse!”
She grabs my hands, pulling them down, her face serious. “You think it
was bad being in the moment? Try watching it, Drew…I almost peed my
pants! You were like, ‘I like meat.’” We both double over with laughter, not
caring what we look like on the sidewalk.
“It’s your fault—you put the idea of dicks in my head, and that’s what
popped out.” My laughter increases.
“Don’t blame me. I told you, it’s like riding a bike; you’ll be fine with
some more practice. But maybe let me do the ordering this time?” Calming
down, she points to a bar across the street that looks crowded. “There.”
“Done.”
 The place is packed full of people, some talking, all drinking. We have
to wait for a minute at the bar, but Gretchen puts in our orders. When the
bartender brings the drinks back, I take a long swig of my cool bourbon
rocks. The feel of the burn and the spread of warmth is a welcome relaxant.
I’m going to need some liquid courage for this night. I’ve been chasing my
dreams instead of guys, but tonight I’m going to jump back on the saddle.
Who says a girl can’t have it all?
Gretchen has already jumped into the deep end with the new bartender
while I pretend not to eavesdrop on their banter. A tap on my shoulder has
me turning to look in the direction it came from, although I wish I hadn’t
because this guy has sleazeball written all over him. Everything from his
cheap suit to the cigarette smell turns me off.
“Hey, beautiful, can I get you a drink?” He wags his eyebrows to
complement his offer.
Lifting my drink, I shake my head no and turn back around to Gretchen,
who rolls her eyes to me but continues her conversation with her bartender
hottie, who is decidedly hotter than the first one.
Tap, tap, tap. No way. I turn back again to face my Beetlejuice caller.
“Sorry, I’m not interested in a drink or anything else.” I’m polite, but
there’s no mistaking my message.
“You a lesbian?”
I hate guys like this. Amazed at his audacity and arrogance, my voice
fills with my disdain. “Seriously? I’m starting to see the draw. However, I
wouldn’t want you to think it’s not you. So, no…I like dick, just not yours.”
Smiling sweetly, I start to turn away when he reaches out for my arm,
knocking my elbow and causing my drink to spill on the guy to my right.
“What the hell!”
Pivoting immediately, I reach to the bar for napkins to hand to the now-
wet guy next to me. I blush with embarrassment as I look apologetically to
my new bourbon soaked friend. “I’m so sorry.”
He smiles down at me with the most perfect set of white teeth and
winks. “No worries. I was just about to tell that guy to back off, but you
seemed to handle yourself just fine.” His baby blues crinkling just a little as
he smiles causes my hand to slow as I wipe at his shirt…his rock-hard
shirt…shit, those are abs.
Jerking my hand away before my wiping becomes indecent, I extend
my hand. “Thanks, and thanks for almost stepping in. Drew—my name is
Drew.” My cheeks feel flushed with the heat I’m feeling.
“I’m Nick.”
Well hello, Nick.
He takes the wet napkin from my hand to add to the pile in his own and
we both step closer to the bar. “Happy to almost help, but now that your
drink is empty, can I buy you another one?”
Yes, please.
“Sure.” I smile, happy about his offer. “But I should really buy you one
since I spilled mine all over you.” Tucking my hair behind my ears, I give
my best flirty smile.
“Oh, come on, let me do one gentlemanly thing? Plus, if he comes back,
I’ll be here to show you how to really handle it.” Smirking, he leans his arm
on the bar and faces me, blocking the jerk who made me spill my drink in
the first place.
“Oh, will you now? Here’s your chance—he’s still behind you.” I bite
my lip to stifle my laugh.
Turning, Nick looks at him and leans in and whispers something close
to his ear. Creepo nods and lifts his drink to cheers me as he takes his leave.
“What did you say to him?” I don’t want to admit it, but that was a
pretty smooth move and my curiosity is piqued, but I’m only met with a
devilish grin. A grin that only serves to highlight his adorable arrogance.
“I’ll never tell. I’m sure you can handle yourself, but that’s my job—I
mean, now that we’re dating and all.” He shrugs, his eyes lit with humor.
Man, he’s a charmer.
“What?” Laughing, I shake my head wondering how to even respond.
The bartender walks up, and Nick orders himself a gin and tonic and me
a Chardonnay.
“White wine, is that what I want? Are you always this much of a
bulldozer?”
“Yes, and I’ll tell you why. It’s my favorite wine, and later when we
kiss, I’ll be able to taste it on your lips. Plus, you’re a lady; you should let
me treat you like one.”
I’m speechless. This guy has red flags all over him, but I accept the
wine because I can’t help wanting him to taste it off my lips too. Lust is a
very good negotiator.
One Week Later

“Has he called you? It’s been exactly a week since you met him, so I want
some news, Drew.” Demanding as always, Gretchen takes a big bite of her
salad. This is our daily ritual most of the week—we order in to my office
and catch up on our days—but this week has been a bear. I’m trying to get
settled into my new position and feel like I’m in high school waiting for the
popular boy to call me again. So, I’ve been mostly eating while working
and going straight home to sleep.
“Yes.” I shoot my hand out to stop her from attacking me with
questions. “But before you go crazy, you should know that I told him during
our only conversation I wasn’t the kind of girl that was DTR. I want to take
things slow, Gretch. He seems great, but I don’t want to jinx anything.”
“DTR? Define the relationship?” Her eyebrows raise, the humor
apparent in her face.
“Oh shit, wait, I meant DTF. See what happens when I try and be cool.”
Rolling my eyes, I grab my pizza for another bite.
“Oh my god! Drew, you basically said you wanted to keep it loose. Now
he’s really going to think you are down to fuck, and by the way, nobody
grown-up says that.” She can’t help but laugh at me while I shrug.
“Whatever. I saw it on a Netflix show. I thought it was back in.”
“You know what? You should fuck him.”
My eyes jump to her face with surprise. “Slow down, I barely know
him. He seems great, but we’ve had one really nice conversation, and he
hasn’t called since.” Reaching over my desk, I grab a napkin and blot the
grease from the top of my pizza.
“You’re a thirty-one-year-old executive with no life that devotes herself
to this, albeit rad, office. Get laid, Drew. I feel like it was invented for
people like you.”
I toss my napkin at her, and she gives me a hard stare, mumbling
something about silk as she pushes the napkin off her lap.
“Why does your compliment feel like an insult?”
 “Because it was. Listen, I love you the mostest, but you don’t have a
life!”
Putting my head in my hands, I look down at my desk and wonder if
I’ve let it go too far, my drive toward ambition. I’ve been so focused on
getting ahead, I forgot to have a life. It’s all about balance. My mother’s
voice in my head reminds me of the day she signed the divorce papers from
my father. She left him because he put everything before her, his career
always coming first. I don’t want to end up like my dad. He’s alone and
repentant, and she’ll never take him back.
“I know, you’re right, but I’m not a total loss yet. I have a little bit of a
life. I went to yoga just yesterday with that girl. The one that works on the
floor below.”
Pushing her lips together, Gretchen folds her hands in her lap, as if she
can barely stand my denial. Her reaction to my lie makes me grin through
another bite of pizza.
“You don’t even know her name, and just because she was there at the
same time doesn’t constitute a life and friends. Don’t play. Call Nick; break
out of dork jail.”
“Shut up,” I say, rolling my eyes at her.
Gretchen wipes her mouth, looking at her phone. “Get laid, love you. I
gotta jet, I have a meeting in ten. Lunch tomorrow? Your office?” She
motions to her stuff, letting me know she’s leaving it where it lies as she
gets up and heads to the door.
“Yes, I’ll be here…you know, since I’m a fucking loser.”
Heading out, she throws a kiss my way. “Great.”
I smile because she’s a madwoman. She’s right. I do need a life outside
of my job. Looking down at my cell on my desk, I spin it around, narrowing
my eyes. Should I? The butterflies flip in my stomach as I turn the phone
over and swipe to open. Pulling up the contacts, I hover my finger over
Nick’s name. Oh man, when did I become such a wuss. Get it together,
Drew. I type quickly before I can reconsider.
Me: Hey Nick, plans tonight?
I immediately turn the screen over because I will not agonize over the
bubbles. It’s torture. He will text back when he has the time. It’s a good
text, casual, flirty…yeah, I’m good. I can just go about my day and check in
an hour or so. Tapping my fingers on my desk, I start to gnaw on my
bottom lip. Who am I kidding—I need to see if he sees it. Flipping it back
over, the message materializes at the same time.
Nick: Sorry, yeah. I’m having dinner with this smoking hot girl at
Lazos tonight. Have you heard of it?
Wait. What? He has to be kidding. No way would he tell me about
another girl. Right? This is his charm. Going out on a limb, I play along.
Me: What a coincidence, I was just going to see if you could get me
reservations. Since you work for some fancy law firm, I figured you
had pull. I have a date too.
Nick: Really? I bet he’s devastatingly handsome.
Me: Nah, average. Super dull.
Nick: Interesting…
Silence. What does this mean? Is he mad? He has to know I was
kidding. Then again, what if he really was telling me about some random
girl. He can go to hell. I would never put up—
My thoughts are interrupted by the vibration of my phone.
Nick: Sorry- work. What time were you hoping for? You know for you
and mister dull?
The smile on my face is threatening to cause permanent damage to my
face muscles.
Me: Seven
Nick: That’s crazy, that’s when I’m going. Why don’t you join me?
Me: Thought you had a date.
Nick: She just canceled
Me: Lucky me
Nick: Yep
Rolling my eyes at his arrogance, I type back quickly.
Me: Great, see you at 7 Mr. Dull.
Nick: Wear a red dress, smoking hot girl.
Grinning down at the phone, I can feel the blush creep up my chest to
my cheeks. This guy…man, oh man. Looks like I’m getting back into the
swing of things. Pushing my phone out of the way, I pull my hair over my
shoulder and refocus on my computer in the hopes I can get some work
done. It only takes me ten minutes before I’m shopping clothing store sites
for red dresses in stock.

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One Year Later

TWIRLING THE CARD AROUND AND around between my fingers, I’m deep in
thought, debating how I’m going to sell the idea of skipping out of this
party. Nick texted me hours ago about it, and I’ve been putting him off. Part
of being a good girlfriend is understanding that I am required to take one
for the team and be friendly with his friends’ girlfriends, even if they are
assholes, but that can’t mean weekend bachelorette parties. The thought
actually makes me cringe.
My shoulders tense because I know he’ll tell me I’m being a snob, but
these girls are not my people. For the love of God, I was given a dick
bouquet. Little plastic dicks arranged in a vase with a note to invite me to a
“weekend of debauchery.” Sounds like a promising first start to a marriage.
It’s clever and appropriate, just not for me. I don’t want debauchery unless
it’s in my bedroom—not that I get it there either.
Sighing against the realization we may end this call in a fight, I pick up
my cell and dial Nick’s number. I’m really hoping this goes smoother than
I’m anticipating. Our relationship has been especially rocky as of late.
We’re never on the same page. Fuck page—it feels like we aren’t even in
the same book, and it seems that no matter how hard I try to be the person
he wants, I’m always found lacking, and I’ve grown tired of it.
We didn’t start out this way. I thought he was charming and sweet,
always trying to show me, teach me new things, and I let him. Even though
I knew it was unnecessary, I kept quiet because he seemed to enjoy the role.
But what I thought was cute at first just makes me feel inferior now, and
I’m starting to freeze my ass off in his shadow. His cajoling morphed into
judgment. And his guidance became control. The thing that makes me sick
is that it all happened with my permission. I willingly gave over control of
my voice. I stopped allowing myself to be critical of his decisions and
stripped away all my rights to be heard.
Last night I tested it out to make sure I knew how to use it, but it only
led to a screaming match on my end. I screamed and screamed some more
as he ignored me and then turned all my words against me. In my
frustration, I threw a pillow at him, and he responded by pinching my butt.
This time I didn’t swallow my words and muffle my hurt. I yelled it to the
rooftops. He dismissed it as me being overly sensitive and him being caught
up in the moment trying to flirt with me. But it was mean, and the bruise
left on my body serves as the reminder. It’s not the first time he’s perverted
love and sex with his cruelty, but somehow in the moment his excuses
become the lie I’m willing to tell myself. They always taste better than the
sourness of the truth.

Nine Months Ago

“Are you wearing that tonight?” Nick’s forehead is scrunched together with
disapproval.
“Yes, I am. Would you like to share your opinion or just make faces at
me?” I shake my head, rolling my eyes, and continue to apply my mascara
in the bathroom of my apartment. Sometimes his “opinions” seem
controlling.
“Hey now, isn’t a guy allowed to have an opinion about his girlfriend? I
mean, this body is mine after all.” He snakes his arm around my waist and
pulls my back against the front of his body, dipping down to grind himself
into my backside.
Dropping my mascara wand into the sink, I reach out to hold the sink as
he brings his mouth to my neck to complement the grasp he has on my
breast. My breathing becomes labored with the intensity of the writhing,
“Nick.” His name leaves my lips as a moan rather than disapproval. “Nick,
we can’t…we have to be there in thirty minutes.”
“We’ll be fashionably late,” he mumbles into my neck.
Smiling toward the ceiling as my head lies back on his shoulder, I push
my rear into him to find a syncopated rhythm.
“See, baby, this is why you can’t wear this dress. I won’t be able to keep
my hands off of you.” Who knew a shift dress would bring out all his sexy
thoughts. I do like it when he’s controlling in bed, but this trait seems to be
making an appearance outside of our bedroom as well.
“Sweet talker,” I giggle as he pulls away, locking eyes with me in the
mirror. Nick raises his eyebrows as he scans my dress, his expression asking
the question. I shake my head no in answer.
“Ouch! Nick.” My eyes grow wide with surprise from the hard squeeze
my right ass cheek is given. My hand shoots down to rub the sting away.
“That hurt.”
“That’s your punishment.” He winks and leans down to kiss my lips.
Walking out of the bathroom, he doesn’t look over his shoulder. “Go
change, babe. We’re going to be late.”
I stand for a moment wondering what just happened. I don’t really know
how to process. Did he just try to manipulate me with sex? Did he try to
punish me? What the fuck just happened? He knows I like it rough, but I
can’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t about sex. It felt mean.
I turn and look in the mirror at myself. My cheeks are flushed, and my
eyes are wild. I rub my bottom again before finishing my makeup and try to
figure out how to say something to Nick. I walk out of the bathroom and
square my shoulders. I’m not looking for some master; he is crazy if he
thinks that kind of behavior will fly with me. The ass grab can stay but only
in bed. Yeah, maybe we can keep that. My pussy agrees. I walk out to the
living room ready to ask him what that was about when I catch his attention
from the couch.
“Why haven’t you changed?”
“Because this is what I’m wearing.”
He sighs and looks down at his hands, shaking his head side to side.
“Drew, I’m trying to help. This crew is just more…fashionable. You look
like you’re going to a work meeting.”
 I can’t help the look on my face. I don’t even try and mask it. “Are you
kidding?” is written all over it. “I thought I was so sexy you couldn’t keep
your hands off me? Sooo, let me make sure I understand—I’m sexy, just
unfashionable? You know what’s unfashionable? Your fucking misogyny.” I
pace across the room mumbling to myself and prepping for this fight. I’m
spurred on by my anger at his nonchalance and start switching out my
purse to the clutch I have in hand, shoving the items from purse to purse
with more force than necessary.
Ignoring my comment, he continues. “Why don’t you wear that gold
number I bought you the other day? Tina, Pat’s girlfriend, actually picked it
out. I’m sure she would appreciate your nod to her choice.”
He walks into my bedroom as I stare at him in disbelief. This is why I
don’t date.
“You have to be kidding. I’m hoping you walked in there to use the
bathroom…” I’m proven wrong when he reappears holding the dress from
the hanger. “Nick, you cannot be serious. I can’t wear that. I thought it was
lingerie.” Throwing my hands up in frustration, I look at him, letting out a
deep breath.
Nick starts walking in my direction, still holding the gold piece of shit.
“Drew, baby. Listen to me. I love you in whatever you wear. I do. But I also
know that you’ve been nervous to meet my friends, and selfishly I just need
to ensure I have the hottest girl in the room. I just want to show you off.”
He places the dress on the table next to me, then rubs his hands up and
down my arms. “Stop looking for a fight where there isn’t one. I’m just
looking out for your best interest.”
I want to yell at him, but I seem to be the only one worked up, and my
mind froze the minute I heard “love” pop out of his mouth.
He said he loved me.
I know I’ve been feeling like I want to say it to him, but I didn’t expect it
in our first fight.
He loves me.
Why am I fighting about something so ridiculous? How could I have
ever thought he would hurt me?
He loves me.
This feels like one of those moments I’m going to look back on as a
pivotal moment in our relationship, and I’ll be damned if our demise is my
fault. I need to compromise.
 “Nick, I’m not a trophy.” My voice is softer.
“Baby, that’s where you’re wrong. I feel like I’ve won the gold medal.” I
put both my hands on his face, bringing his eyes to mine.
“Why can’t I say no to you?” I’m met with a grin, one that looks
suspiciously victorious.
“Because you know I’m right.” Kissing my forehead, he reaches next to
me and grabs the dress, holding it within my reach.
Taking a nervous breath, I take the dress. “You are really lucky I love
you too.” My smile is tentative. I can’t believe I said it out loud. Nick pulls
back from me, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. Tilting his head
sideways, he purses his lips together, looking at me like he’s deciding what
to say. I feel like I’m being examined.
“Drew.” The way he says my name immediately makes me regret what I
said. I feel embarrassed as if he feels sorry for me. I’m sure it’s my
imagination, but I want to run out of this room.
Taking a hand out of his pocket, he reaches for me. “It’s okay, don’t be
embarrassed. I meant that I loved your body, in your clothes. Wow, I don’t
know what to say, but I’m flattered.”
I try to keep smiling, but I feel humiliated. How did I read that all
wrong? I try to pull my hand away, but he holds it tighter.
“But Drew, I definitely feel more than ‘like’ for you. I’m crazy about
you, and I want that in our future, but honestly, it’s stuff like this tonight that
holds me back. I need you to be willing to follow my lead. I want you to
accept my help. I don’t want to make you feel bad, but you’re constantly
devaluing my opinion, and that kind of pushback could be a deal breaker
for me. I want a wife one day, and there are different expectations in my
world. Expectations you don’t know how to navigate.”
My eyes start to tear. I just said I loved him, and now he’s breaking up
with me because I can’t stop being the boss. Why am I pushing him away? I
wanted this and I’m sucking at it. Goddammit. How am I so successful and
a such a failure simultaneously?
“I’ll make more of an effort. I want to make this work. I want you to feel
appreciated and trusted. I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel the opposite.”
His smile is approving as he leans down and kisses me long and
tenderly, running the back of his fingers along my jawline. My eyes open
slowly, and for a moment I feel like I’m waking up.
 “God, I can’t wait to show you off to my friends. Change quick—I don’t
want to be any later.” He pats my hip, moving to give me room to walk past
him.
Without pause, I walk into my bedroom and change. This is right. He’ll
love me back; I just need to show him how much I care.

Just reliving that memory leaves a film of regret on my body. I’ve bent
and molded myself until I am unrecognizable. I hate the person I’ve so
easily become. I’ve let this relationship chip away parts of me. No, I’ve
chipped them away, trying to turn myself into the version Nick wants. Fuck
Nick.
Somewhere during the year we’ve dated, I decided he was the prize and
I was just the consolation. Unfortunately, I also decided self-respect was
something I would trade for his approval. But I’m done—he doesn’t want
me; he wants a trophy. Something that complements him. I’ve come to
realize that I’m just an extension of his ego.
I’m yanked from my spiral by Nick’s voice. “What can I do you for this
afternoon? I’m busy, Drew.”
“Well, someone’s in a good mood. Listen, I’m calling you to talk about
this invitation I just received for Tink’s bachelorette.” I scrunch my face,
realizing that I used the nickname Gretchen and I gave Tina. It’s fitting
because she’s twenty-two, petite, blonde, and acts like a toddler, and
toddlers love all things Disney, so Tinkerbell was born. She’s also the
“girlfriend” who picked out the gold hooker dress.
“Really, Drew? I wish you would be nicer. You don’t always have to be
the bitch.” Here we go.
“Don’t call me that! It’s just a nickname, but in all fairness, she’s about
the same age as Tinkerbell…sooo…” I’m not apologizing. I’ll die on this
mountain if need be.
“It’s meant to make fun of her—so what if she’s younger than the rest of
us? It’s only by ten years, and they love each other. That’s all that matters.
You should support that. I’m disappointed you would be so immature.”
Now he’s altruistic?
“I’m not going to argue about maturity level when she sent me a vase of
dicks as an invitation to the bachelorette party. I’m not going. I’m not trying
to be a difficult; it just isn’t for me, Nick. Plus I have a ton of things to
research for a new potential client. I know Patrick is your friend and you
want me to be her friend but no, just no.” Sighing, I give away my
frustration.
“Loosen up! Why wouldn’t you go? Like you said, you know this is an
important friend for me. Jesus, does it always have to be about you? I am
making huge strides at this company, and if I want to get myself seen as a
leader, I need to know the right people. Tina likes you, so get over yourself
and go. I would think that you’d want another opportunity to prove you
aren’t what she thinks you are.” God, he always knows where to twist the
knife.
My voice raises. “Are you kidding right now? I am not a selfish person
—I care about your career, but I care about mine too. I can still be
supportive without spending my weekend with a bunch of girls I don’t
know doing shots and dancing on tables. If that’s what I have to do to be
accepted, then I’ll be friendless. Why are you being so unreasonable?”
Pushing away from my desk, I stand to pace.
“Me, unreasonable? That’s rich. You’re just being small-minded.
You’ve been like this since we met, and I understand that you worked for
everything you’ve gotten, and you didn’t grow up around people like this,
but I did. You don’t understand how you need to negotiate these
relationships. Must you always fight against me when I’m trying to help
you?”
“Help me? Help me do what, Nick? Because last I checked I’m running
a company and coming home at a reasonable hour and I don’t smell like
dick. I won’t pander to your inability to move past where you are in your
career. I’m not playing myself down or doing you any favors. You want
Tina to say nice things to Patrick, then why don’t you go to the damn
party.”
Holy shit, that felt good! I’m not sure where it came from, but I know I
need more of it. My heart is beating so fast I can barely concentrate on
what’s being said because I just drew a big-ass line in the sand, and it very
well may be the spot I bury him in.
Feeling confident, I return my focus back to the conversation.
“Wow, I’m glad that all this time I was worried that you felt like I was
unsuccessful, but I always told myself that you would never judge me. You
love me, you’re supposed to be proud of me. I’m glad to know how you
really feel.”
 The familiar feeling of guilt wells in the pit of my stomach. In my
bravado I hadn’t considered the weight of my words. “Nick, I’m sorry. But
you know I am proud of you, and you know that I love you. Sometimes I
feel like you ask things of me that are unreasonable. It makes me feel
small.”
“Drew, give me one example of when I have asked you to do something
that hurt our relationship…”
“Well, that’s tricky because you ask things of me that when done make
you happy, but I’m not sure where my happiness fits into that equation.”
“Do you hear yourself? You’re solely talking about your happiness. A
relationship is about two people. I just don’t understand why can’t you do
this for us? Do you love me?”
“Of course, but sometimes I come first. Sometimes you have to be
about me, Nick.”
“Fine, Drew, you stay. I’m sure there are other ways to coerce Tina into
my good graces. I’ll think outside the box…” My eyes grow wide with
surprise at his insinuation. That was a threat. I can hear it twisted around his
words like a snake.
“Are you threatening me with Tina? Are you saying you would come on
to her or be flirtatious?” I’m in disbelief. He wouldn’t, would he? He
absolutely would…
“Get your mind out of the gutter. Jesus, you can take the girl out of
Oakland… Although, I’m sure her pussy wouldn’t be as frigid.”
“Fuck you.” I smack the phone down on my desk, secretly hoping I
didn’t break it but understanding the irony if I did. I just keep breaking the
pieces of myself while I run away from the real problem.

Three Months Ago

“No, Gretch, he still isn’t home…” She’s in rare form tonight questioning
me about Nick. He’s out more and more with his work buddies since getting
a promotion, but corporate America comes with a lot of pressures. It’s the
loosest of excuses, but I’m hanging on by a thread, and every time she
pushes, I feel like the tear in the wallpaper somebody keeps picking at until
the paper is torn, revealing all the destruction underneath.
He’s the guy I love, but I always seem to be sabotaging my own
happiness. First, I’m not available enough, so I make myself available
more, but now it’s been a month since I’ve seen my friend. Then I’m
condescending because my success makes him feel small, so I downplay
what my role at my company is when we hang out with his friends. I know
that once he finds an equal footing, he won’t ask me to do this for him.
Because that’s what you do for people you love—you sacrifice and
compromise. I just want him to know I love him.
I walk to the fridge and grab a bottle of water, pulling the phone away
from my ear as I chug the cool water down my throat. I don’t want to put the
phone back, but I do, only to hear silence.
“Hello, hello? Gretchen, you there?”
“Yes, I was just waiting for you to stop ignoring me.” Well, I guess I’m
trying and failing.
“Sorry, but I’m not up for this tonight.”
“Should I schedule a heart-to-heart, since I’m not sure when we may
have another?”
“Jesus, he’s just trying to find his way at his company. It’s hard to find
your footing, and he’s pushing hard to stay noticed and relevant. You of all
people should understand. I’m trying to be understanding and let him figure
it out.” Why can’t she just leave it? I hate her for getting in my head.
“So, give him advice. Don’t excuse shitty-boyfriend treatment, Drew.”
“I’m not, but it’s hard for him. My success can feel overwhelming for
other people. I cast a big shadow.” Cracking my neck, I hope to relieve the
tension, but it holds strong.
“What! How sweet—now you’re apologizing for your success?”
“I’m not apologizing for anything! I just don’t have to rub it in his
face.”
“I never thought I would see the day. You can’t even see the line in the
sand anymore.” Her voice is slathered in sarcasm and disappointment. I
hate the disappointment part.
“Gretchen, I’m being understanding. A relationship is about two
people. I’ll never be successful if I’m always closed off to compromise.”
Toeing off my sneakers from my run in our new neighborhood, I fall back
onto the couch and put my phone on speaker as she continues.
“Drew! How do you not see? First off… No, never mind. I can’t say it.
I’m tired of saying it.”
I sit in silence to call her bluff. The last couple of months, Gretchen
hasn’t been thrilled with my relationship. At first, I believed Nick. I believed
she was probably jealous of sharing her best friend with a boyfriend. I knew
I was spending all my time with Nick, but he seemed to always have plans
for us, and I was excited for his attention. Now with the move into our new
suburban hell, it’s really hard to schedule some girl time. I also don’t like
these conversations.
Pulling me back from my thoughts, Gretchen’s voice echoes through the
phone. “Okay, I’m going to say it. Who are you? You’ve lost your edge. It’s
like you’re brainwashed—no, no…it’s like you have split personalities. You
come to the office and kick ass every day, and then you leave and turn into
his bitch. You’ve become somebody’s bitch.”
Sighing, I let my breath take the last of my fight. I’m done.
“Can we talk about this later? I don’t want to argue with you too. I’m
exhausted.”
“No, we can’t. I haven’t seen you in over a month, except at work. I’m
worried about you. Where is my friend?”
“Stop worrying; it’s just a rough patch. We’ll get through it.”
“I’m not worried about your fucking relationship status because maybe
you shouldn’t make it through. Maybe you should walk away, Drew.”
Sitting up, I can’t believe she is telling me to quit, fail, just walk away.
“Oh, that’s amazing. Aren’t you the person who said I needed a life?
‘Get laid, Drew’…weren’t those your words? Well, here I am trying to have
a life. It’s not perfect, but at least I’m trying. Everywhere I turn someone is
disappointed in something I decide. I can’t make any of you happy! Just
fucking leave me be, Gretchen. I love him and I’m trying.” My voice is
sharp at the end.
“I wanted you to have some fun, not lose all your self-respect. Drew,
you’ve compromised who you are, for him. What’s he done for you? Are you
even happy? Because the girl I know would never put up with any of this
nonsense.”
I start to pick at the polish on my nails as I stare down at my hands.
I don’t even know if that’s true anymore. All I know is the girl I was has
been masterfully twisted and deconstructed by her own need to present the
perfect life. Nick’s perfect on paper, and I just keep trying to hold onto the
“glimpse” I dreamed for us. It seemed so real, so attainable. If I can just do
everything right or better, we can get back there, but the thought that
niggles at me is what if who we were isn’t who we are?
“I’m too busy fighting with myself to stop and wonder.”
 “Why are you fighting yourself?”
“Do you think I don’t see what’s happening to me? Do you think I
swallow my pride, my fucking dignity, my self-respect without gagging on
disappointment? Newsflash, G: I hate myself. I hate myself for loving him,
and I hate myself for not being able to be the woman he needs. I just want
him to love me, but how the fuck could anyone love me when I hate myself
so much?” My words are accompanied by the tears streaming down my
face. “I just…I don’t know. I’m stuck in the cycle. I can’t remember the last
time he didn’t second-guess my every move, but then if I just listen to him
and stop being so stubborn, he’s so happy and life seems perfect—except it
isn’t. I don’t even know what to think anymore.”
The silence on the other end feels appropriate. Sometimes you just have
to say something out loud to hear how it sounds. I sound pathetic, like the
girls I hate listening to, whiny and needy for the attention of someone who
doesn’t care about them. I just can’t stop myself from caring.
“Drew, promise me you won’t do that anymore.” Her voice is solemn,
and I wonder if she feels sorry for me or sad on my behalf.
“Gretchen, I love him, and I don’t know how to fail. I know it’s not
perfect, but what if this is my only shot? No relationship is perfect.”
“You’ve already failed.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, my dear sweet friend, that you are so concerned about
getting this right that you have forgotten to protect the most important
person in the relationship.” She has to be joking.
“What the fuck does that mean? I’m always thinking of what’s good for
Nick. I just told you I was trying to work on everything wrong with me to
make this work with him.”
“I meant you, Drew. You should be the most important person to you…”
My silence is all the validation she needs to know that I hear her. I do
hear her. It just happened so gradually, tiny concessions, victories disguised
as compromises. It was all training. He doesn’t have to lift his hand over my
mouth to muffle my voice; I’m using my own hand now.
“I have to go.”
“D…”
“I have to go!” My scream surprises me too as I end the call, tossing
my phone to the floor and not bothering to wipe my tears. I’ve become used
to crying myself to sleep. I close my eyes and let the sleep take me.
 It’s 3:00 a.m. when Nick wakes me up from the couch, picking me up to
carry to me to bed. He smells like cigars and cheap perfume. I open my eyes
and look at his profile, wondering how I will live the next twenty years
ignoring the smell of cheap perfume on my husband.
“Put me down,” I gripe, trying to struggle from his arms.
“What? Hey, sleepyhead, we’re almost to the bedroom. Put your head
on my shoulder.”
“Put me down.” This time my voice is stronger and more assertive as I
force a leg down toward the ground.
“Whoa, okay, walk. I was just trying to be sweet. Go back to sleep;
you’re grumpy.” He holds both hands up in retreat after releasing me and
walking past where I stand.
“Where have you been?” The smell wafts by as he passes, causing me
to grit my teeth together.
“What? Not this again. I told you I was going out with the higher-ups
tonight. You said it was fine, Drew.” Entering the bedroom, he removes his
tie and tosses it on the dresser.
“It was fine until you came back smelling like a strip club,” I spit out
from the doorframe I’m standing in, hands on waist.
“Oh, here we go. This isn’t about me going out. This is about you.
You’re feeling insecure.”
Fuck you, Nick.
“How do you expect me to be secure, Nick, we haven’t had sex in a
month, you’re never home, and you smell like women’s perfume.” Crossing
my arms, I stare at him expectantly for an explanation.
“Jesus, this side of you is so unattractive. Can you blame me for staying
out? When I’m home, this is how you act. I’ve been under a lot of stress
lately, and even under all that stress I’ve noticed that you have been super
insecure about your body. I’m glad to see you working out again, but I
didn’t want to pressure you for sex when you seem to be in a bad place
about the weight gain.”
I stare at him, stunned. I can see what he’s doing. He just tried to play
my insecurity about the five pounds I’ve gained, but joke’s on him. I’m fine
with it. Not again, Drew—don’t play right into his hand.
“No. Hell no. I won’t do this. Nick, take a pillow and sleep on the
couch. We can talk in the morning, I won’t stand here and let you try and
turn my weight gain into some heroism on your part. Fuck that. Tonight,
last night, and the night before were dick moves, and you owe me an
apology.”
Shaking his head, he grabs a pillow and walks to where I stand. Quick
as lightning, he nabs my nipple between his fingers.
“Ow, Nick,” I yelp as he squeezes hard before I can swat his hand
away. “What the fuck are you doing?” I’m angry and confused, and tears
well in my eyes. He hasn’t done this since… My thoughts are cut off by his
voice.
“That’s your punishment for making me sleep on the couch. Isn’t this
what you want, Drew? To fight so we can make up? You think I don’t want
you?” Gripping the back of my neck, he assails my mouth, blending our
tongues together, making my body heat up. Even though it feels wrong,
mean, my body responds in all the right ways. The marriage of the two fills
my thoughts with more confusion until I just let go and fall into bed with
Nick…and deeper into his hold.

The only thought left in my head as I shake off the memory has me in a
vise grip. I need to leave Nick.

OceanofPDF.com
“YOU ALL PACKED UP?” NICK strolls into the bedroom with that arrogant
smile, the one that claims his victory, as I zip up my bag. He does “Ivy
League” justice with his six-foot lean frame adorned with blond hair, neatly
cut, and ice-blue eyes. He is traditionally handsome, all American, the kind
of guy your mother prays for you to bring home. My mother loves him. I
loved him.
“Yep, just looking for my hand sanitizer. Figured I should stock up for
the weekend.” I roll my eyes. I can’t believe I’m doing this. He played dirty
and had Tina call, knowing that I would never be impolite and refuse a
personal invitation. Then again, maybe I’m just conditioned to be obedient.
Nick puts his hands on my shoulders to turn me around. “I thought we were
going to have a better attitude about this.”
I hate when he speaks to me like a child. I hate it when he speaks.
I just stand there looking at him, just staring at his features, the sandy-
blond hair and blue eyes set against long black lashes that are only
diminished by his strong jawline and broad shoulders. He’s so handsome,
like a real-life Prince Charming, except he isn’t a prince. I just keep looking
at him, wondering how someone so perfect on paper can be the beast in real
life. Or maybe I’m the beast—after all, I okayed all of his treatment. That’s
the funny thing: he doesn’t hit me or call me names. He doesn’t scream at
me or tell me I’m stupid. His coercion of my spirit is subtle and
manipulative. He’s held me underwater just long enough that I almost
stopped fighting.
“I dislike myself when I’m with you, and I don’t know if that’s because
of me or because of you…”
His face is incredulous. “That would be a ‘you’ problem, sweetheart.”
I’m not sure he likes me either.
Moving his hands off my shoulders, he steps back. “Oh, here we go. Is
this the part where you become the victim and tell me how I’m holding you
back from being your true self or some shit like that? Sounds like maybe
you’ve been reading too much self-help. Or wait, wait…let me guess, I say
mean things to you.” His voice ends with mocking baby talk. Dick.
My eyes grow wide, my anger boiling at his mockery. “Oh, I’m not a
victim. I’m an asshole, a huge asshole for thinking that those little quirks
weren’t anything more than quirks. You don’t care about me, Nick. You just
want to control me. I’m just here for good looks and points with your boss.
I don’t want this anymore.”
“What are you talking about? Do you even hear yourself?” Nick grabs
my bag and walks over to me, extending it out to me. “Pipe down with the
dramatics. You realize you are trying to make our relationship fail based on
a fucking girls’ weekend. Come on, how can you hate yourself when I love
you? Huh? Let me walk you out…” Putting his hand on my shoulder, he
urges me along out of our shared apartment and out to the party bus that is
waiting for me. Why the fuck don’t I walk out and keep walking? I’m not
strong enough. I need this space to say and do what I need to. It may be
chickenshit, but it’s a start.
Taking my bag from his hand, I turn toward the bus doors. I can see the
girls inside already preparing for the weekend. The amount of pink feather
boas makes me slightly nauseated as I speed down the walkway of our
rental house to the waiting bus.
Footsteps grow louder behind me. “Drew, seriously, wait a minute. I
don’t want us to go off like this. I’m sorry you feel bullied into this, but I
really need this right now.” His voice is hushed, embarrassment etched on
his face. I can smell his desperation. This is a new side to Nick I haven’t
seen. “Patrick is a friend, but more importantly he has pull at this company.
I need him right now; things aren’t as great as I may have made them seem.
I need you. I wouldn’t ask for the help if I didn’t need it. Please just be nice
and make them love you. It’s for my future…” After a pause, he corrects
himself. “Our future.”
The idea makes me cringe. I just want to scream out, We don’t have a
future, but that would make this whole situation even more awkward. But
the words are like soda being shaken in a can. They burst from my lips in a
hiss, and my hand jumps to my mouth in an attempt to stop the combustion.
I can feel the curious eyes burning up my back, probably intrigued at the
look of anger on Nick’s face. Maybe this trip is the perfect solution to my
problems. I need space from Nick to clear my mind to build my resolve.
“Not now, Drew” is the only affirmation he gives that he hears my
words as he stands stoic.
“Okay” is all I muster before I turn my back to him, making my way up
the bus steps and plastering a super fake smile to accompany the hoots and
hollers as I enter. I actually feel relieved when the doors close and the bus
gears up to move. I haven’t looked to see if Nick is standing and watching
me pull away because I just can’t pretend to care anymore. This weekend is
a reprieve and a parting gift.
I make my way to the back of the bus and plop my bag down on an
empty chair, sliding into the chair next to it, while Tina’s maid of honor,
Cassie, stands in the aisle giving a rundown of the weekend’s itinerary.
“All right, ladies, we are going to partayyyy this weekend! Oh my God,
it’s going to be totes amazing, and guess what?” She does a little wiggle
dance, and everyone screams. “I got us on a totally impossible list for a club
called Church. Wait for it…it’s a fucking sex club!” She screams, they all
scream, and I just want to jump off the bus.
Rolling my eyes, I look right to see Tina looking at me. Whoops. She
stands as the commotion begins to settle and makes her way to the back
where I am sitting. All I feel is immediate anxiety. I can’t believe she saw
me roll my eyes. I may not like her and I may be using this party as an
excuse to get the heck out of Dodge, but it’s never my intention to ruin her
party.
“Hey, so this is awkward, but I just wanted to say I ‘get it.’” Smiling
down at me, she sits in the empty chair across the aisle.
“Get it?” I shake my head, not clear as to what she means.
“Yeah, I mean…” Staring down at her hands, she seems nervous. “I
understand that you had to come. Pat and Nick go way back, and obviously
they want their girlfriends to be friends, but I get that we don’t really have
anything in common, so don’t worry…if you want to blow off all of the
weekend’s activities, your secret is safe with me.”
Now that isn’t something I was expecting at all! I feel like a jerk; it’s her
bachelorette party, and I’m being a baby!
“No, Tina, I’m super happy to be a part of your celebration. I mean,
yeah, this isn’t really my scene, but I’m sorry I gave the impression I was a
big ol’ baby and didn’t know how to have fun. Let’s just have a great
weekend, and maybe we will find out we have more in common than we
think we do.” I totally believe it when I say it.
“Oh, okay, but seriously you can totally stay in. I mean, we are going
hard this weekend, and I know that really isn’t your thang. The hotel has a
really awesome spa too! Maybe we can just all get together for like lunches
or dinners? You should definitely come to the crazy sex club place; I think
we could use a grown-up for that one.”
Looking toward the front, I see the others whispering and looking back.
I’m in middle school again—god, I really dislike these girls. I thought she
was trying to be nice, but she may as well be paying me because I’m clearly
the babysitter. I change my mind. I don’t want to jump off the bus—I’d like
to toss her!
“Sounds great, Tina. I could use a spa weekend. Since we’re on the
same page, just make sure to say lots of nice things about me and Nick.” I
nod before I reach into my bag to retrieve my phone, hoping that my hint is
big enough for her.
“Got it.” She gives me a conspiratorial wink before her eyes dart down,
acknowledging my phone and my dismissal before walking back to her
seat. I open my messages and quickly type out:
Me: Best trip ever
Gretchen: Do I need to mount up?
Me: Are you a regulator?
I can’t help but giggle at my response.
Gretchen: Obviously! I’m sorry they’re assholes but why the hell did
you agree to go, Drew?
Me: Honestly?
Gretchen: Duh
Me: I’m feeling guilty. I’m ending things with Nick and I figured this
would be my farewell gift. I think he is having problems at work.
 Gretchen: That’s not your problem. He deserves whatever is coming
his way.
Me: I just wanted to do this because I loved him once and we started
from a good place, closure ya know? Plus, I can get away and clear
my head too. It’s a free trip and I’m cheap.
When Nick and I had our fight about the party, Gretchen was the first
person I called. We left work and spent three hours at a downtown
restaurant tucked in the back corner. I cried, drank and ate, reliving all the
moments that got away. All the things I should have screamed and all the
indiscretions I’ve ignored. It was cathartic, but then again, she’s my real
soul mate.
Gretchen: I get it…you’re still dumb tho but I love you
Me: Ha! Love you back
Gretchen: Hey! Don’t be scared to tell them who they are. They could
use some truth.
Me: Actually, these girls are pretty savvy…I’m surprised.
Gretchen: Terrifying.
Me: Wanna meet for dinner while I’m in the city?
Gretchen: Can’t…plans. But you should go out, shake off the rust
Me: That’s what got me in trouble the first time…
Gretchen: Fine but I’m outta town for the weekend or I’d meet up.
Catch up soon?
Me: What’s his name?
Gretchen: Daddy…
Me: Ooooo kinky Gretch
Gretchen: No, it’s my dad.
Me: Oh Jesus! I need to stop trying out trends
Gretchen: Yes. Just let it go before I heave more in my mouth.
Me: Tell your Dad I say hi. I’ll call when I’m back
Closing my phone, I put my head back on the seat and close my eyes,
letting out a sigh. With each mile I put between us, I’m that much closer to
getting myself back.

OceanofPDF.com
CRACKING MY NECK, I RELIEVE the tension I’m feeling from this week. I’d be
hard-pressed to find a different description other than “fucking disaster.” I
acquired a new venture for King Enterprises, and the deal was almost blown
by some fucking idiot lawyer in contracts, who pointed out that we
lowballed the price. I would’ve fired him if it wasn’t for the fact the deal
went through, so he covered his ass. My brother, the voice of reason and my
COO, asked me to go easy on the firing, something about me being a tyrant.
He’s always the more level-headed of the two of us.
I would do anything for my brother, Luca. Younger by three minutes,
our bond is unbreakable. It’s been me and him against the world for most of
our lives since our parents were killed by a drunk driver when we were in
our teens, forcing us to move from relative to relative. Inevitably, we
overstayed our welcome. Nobody wanted to deal with two teenage boys
with anger issues, especially considering our backgrounds. Our father and
his brother grew up and were groomed to join the “family business,” but my
father left, asking for his freedom. The consequence was his
excommunication; he didn’t exist anymore. No contact meant that we grew
up devoid of paternal family, but we understood the sacrifices he made for
us to live normally, so we never pushed.
 If my father were alive, he would have died all over again at the
criminality of our behavior, after the accident. We got involved with bad
people, at the wrong time. I turned to our Uncle Giovanni and made the
sacrifice to get my hands dirty to keep us afloat, so that the future my father
hoped for would at least be met by one of us.
When we turned eighteen respectively, our inheritance was released,
and we invested to start King Enterprises. Starting with small nightclubs
and bars, since that’s where I spent most my time, I already understood the
business. The more success came our way, the more upstanding we became,
or Luca became (I’m still a bit more unpredictable). There isn’t so much a
need for the street smarts and cruelty I acquired during our youth, but every
so often, if need be, I play dirty—but only me. I make sure Luca stays on
the straight and narrow, and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. We’ve
branched out to restaurants and larger real estate ventures, currently owning
a large portfolio of commercial properties worldwide with three private
clubs and more than a dozen hotels. The growth in our company exceeds
even our own expectations. I just wish our parents could’ve lived to see us.
Then again it took their death to make this possible.
That one sobering fact makes me hate my success all over again. I’d
give it all up to have them back.
I take a swig of my drink. The burn helps to quiet the thoughts, and
that’s what I need tonight, help from my demons. I keep myself removed
and focused on most days. Never shit where you eat…so they say. What a
wonderful little colloquialism. I don’t though; it’s only on rare occasions
that I find myself willing to enjoy something I own, but after my week I
needed to blow off steam in my one of our exclusive clubs, Church.
It’s an unassuming club built inside an elegant, three-story townhome.
It’s not just a club, but a sanctuary for those with deviant proclivities. Only
members with a key may enter, and that key costs more than most people
make in a year.
I fucking love it. The multileveled Gomorrah begins with the main
room at the entrance, banked in deep cushioned red velvet walls, with dark
leather furniture and the most elaborate chandeliers that hang from the
ceiling that captures pictures of debauchery in their crystal beads. It’s
decorated as if someone pulled a room right from the 1940s and plopped it
into current time. I love the feel, the swankiness, but mostly I love the smell
of sex. It’s everywhere; people are desperate for it, and it feeds the beast
that is lust.
Leading up and down the stairs are elaborately iron-railed staircases.
Wider than normal, they keep the flow of traffic between rooms and add to
the elegance of this den of iniquity. Downstairs leads to private rooms, each
themed and some custom-made for specific sexual preferences. That’s also
where I keep a room for myself. The top floor is a communal room, with
public viewing and nudity allowed. There’s a stage in the center for public-
viewed spankings and floggings, but the main attraction is the baptismal,
the oversized egg-shaped tub that allows for members to watch as women
bathe under wanton eyes, with warm jets designed for public masturbation.
The room is very low lit and bordered in bed-like benches, encouraging an
audience.
I aimed for the main floor to be the tamest of all, a neutral ground of
sorts. It’s the foreplay for everywhere else. After entering past the foyer, the
room presents as a great room with small conversational seating areas
adorned in red velvet club chairs, leather ottomans, and side tables. It’s
meant to invite conversations and slightly heavy petting. The mahogany bar
runs along the mirrored back wall. It looks like something out of one those
old black-and-white movies, elegant and classic.
Each time I find myself here, I’m comforted knowing that whomever I
meet is just for tonight. I’m not looking for anything other than someone to
help me work out my kinks…so to speak. I’ve never desired any other type
of relationship. That’s for my brother; he’s the marrying and kids type. I
don’t have anything against it—I love seeing him in that life; he reminds
me of our father. Luca got all the good parts, while I inherited all the other
parts. I know that I’m too rough around the edges, and frankly, I’ve never
met a woman that keeps my attention for longer than one night.
I lean back against the bar and continue to survey the room when I feel
a hand trace up my suited arm. “Well, hello again.” I swirl the ice cubes
around my tumbler.
“Hello, yourself. Were you going to ignore me all night?” Sarah pretend
pouts.
“No need to pout. I hadn’t seen you, but I’m certainly available to you
now,” I assure her, turning my body in her direction.
“Good because I need a nice stiff one.” She smiles, batting her lashes at
me as I put my drink on the bar.
 “Ah, well then I think I can provide just that… Bourbon?” I grin,
motioning to the bartender, with one finger.
“Yes, please.” Laughing at our joke, she pushes up to the barstool. “I
haven’t seen you around too much lately. Running the world getting busy,
huh?”
“Yes. This week, however, has been a nightmare, but the club seems to
be running quite well, and I know I have you to thank for that.” I hand her
the drink and pick mine back up.
“Just doing my job.” Tipping her drink my way, she gives me a nod.
Sarah took over management of Church after I acquired it three years
ago. She has always been my eyes and ears. She started as a shift manager
before I saw that she was one of the only people who understood how this
club should run. She’s open-minded and driven. I trust her beyond measure,
and for a guy like me, loyalty and trust are sacred. She’s also one of the
only women I haven’t slept with. She’s here on merit, and I respect her for
that.
“Let’s go to the office and run over some notes I have.”
Sarah nods in agreement, and I knock the wooden bar top as a goodbye
to the bartender. Making our way to the back offices becomes tricky. We
must get stopped five or six times to answer questions before we get back to
the office.
“Wow, I didn’t think we would get a minute,” she huffs as she sinks into
the leather club chair opposite my desk.
“I like that the club is busy. Works to my benefit.” I give a sly grin.
“True, but I do think we need more security upstairs. Lately there have
been a few situations that left me shortchanged and nervous.”
“I’m good with that. Hire what you need—but why wasn’t I emailed
about any incidents?” Furrowing my brow, I lean back, waiting for my
answer. It better be good because stupidity is not something I will easily
forgive.
“Well, because we handled the issue before it even became a solid
situation. If I were to email you every petty argument some chick has with
her boyfriend over bringing her here, you would never get any of your other
work done.”
I can’t help but smile because I know she’s right, but it doesn’t matter
my emotional default is control and dominance. “Do us both a favor and
just send me a rundown at the end of the week of anything or anyone you
believe is becoming problematic. That way I’m off your back, but I stay in
the know.” I’m nicer than I would normally be, but I like Sarah, and I
believe in her capabilities. She’s like the sister I never wanted. Outside of
Luca, she’s the only other person I see on a regular basis.
“Great, consider it done, but can I ask you a question?” I nod my
approval. “Are you as involved with all your businesses? Granted you
haven’t been around the last few weeks, but I just assumed a guy at the top
would have a hundred people I would report to.”
Leaning back into my chair, I cross my arms. “Am I wearing out my
welcome already?”
“I apologize, King—no, that’s not what I…”
Cutting her off simply to de-escalate her nerves, my response is sharp.
“No, I am not this hands on with other ventures. My company houses a lot
of subsidiaries, but I have a personal interest as well as financial in this
particular business.”
“Gotcha, I just wondered because…”
Sarah is cut off by a knock on the door, drawing my attention and my
annoyance. Without looking up I bark, “Come in.” One of the bar backs
opens the door, leaning in halfway. “Oh hey, sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt
a meeting, but we have an issue.”
I’ve been here all of an hour, and instead of being buried inside a
blonde, I’m hearing all about “issues.” This place is beginning to feel like
less of a sanctuary and more like a pain in the ass.
“What’s the problem?” My tone is direct and clear.
Looking a little unsure, he replies, “Well, it looks like someone let in a
bachelorette party, and now they are in the main room acting like newbies
and we’re getting complaints.”
“Son of a bitch,” Sarah curses under her breath. “I’ll take care of it,
King.” She stands, looking aptly apologetic.
“Good. Find out who let them in and fire them. This club’s reputation is
built on privacy—I don’t have to remind you what we charge for
membership. I won’t have some curious girls in here looking to have a story
to tell.” My voice must punctuate the irritation I’m feeling because they
jump into action, most likely for fear they will be next on the chopping
block.
I turn around to the monitors and pull up the main room. Six girls in
total. They stand out like sore thumbs. Fuck me, one of them has on a damn
tiara and sash. Shaking my head and raking my hands through my hair, I
stand up, button my tailored black suit jacket, and adjust my cuffs before I
head out to see how this situation is going to shake down. Heads will roll
for this. That’s the one decision I’m sure of. Walking around the corner into
the main room I spot the ridiculous group standing and giggling. They
couldn’t look more out of place if they tried. I watch security discreetly
approach and begin talking to a girl wearing dicks around her neck. Rubber
dicks. Shaking my head, I can’t believe these girls made it through the door.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for fun, but these walls are for a different kind
of fun, and these girls seem unschooled.
I survey the room, happy to see that although the bar back said
complaints were lobbied, I don’t see anyone raising a concerned brow.
Scanning the room, I spot Sarah having the front door guard removed, his
head cast downward, a sign of his fucking guilt. He knows better—people
need a key to get in; he couldn’t have actually thought this would go
unnoticed.
My eyes are drawn back to the rubber dick girl. She seems to be
pushing the idea of being allowed to stay and holds up a key as proof of her
eligibility. Son of a bitch. Whoever gave that to her will never step another
foot in here. I eye Sarah approach and begin the “thank you but get the fuck
out” speech. As she takes the key from the girl’s manicured hand and passes
it to security, I laugh to myself, leaning against the bar at how ridiculous
this situation is. I’ll make sure to find out whose key that is so that I can
blacklist them.
My gaze wander over the group of women, taking in the heavily made-
up faces and spray tans, when I land on her. It’s as if everything comes into
focus. All the air leaves my lungs as I am filled with her essence. My body
starts to react before I can process. I stand straight, eyes focused. Every
receptor in my body is on high alert over this brown-haired beauty. She’s
tall, lean, maybe five foot nine or so with long, rich brown wavy locks
running down her back, leading my eyes down to her perfect ass and legs
for days, accentuated by the hem of her dress. She wears that dress like a
threat, intimidating and powerful, and she has the most perfect red lips. But
it’s her eyes—her eyes hit my soul. They’re ice blue and deadly because
each time she looks around the room, it’s as if she sees the truth behind the
presentation. The thought shakes me to my core, but it’s the singular reason
I can’t stop staring.
 She’s fucking stunning. It’s as if just the sight of her woke me up from
my sleep. I feel hungry, and I’m fucking mesmerized. She isn’t giggling and
looking embarrassed; she looks quietly intrigued. Jesus, I can see how she
tilts her head, looking around, taking in the overt sexualization that hangs
like fog in the air. I’m captivated watching her roll her shoulders back,
causing her breasts to jut out ever so slightly, while she rubs the fabric of
her dress along her hips. She’s on fire. What the fuck am I feeling? I don’t
believe in love at first sight, but I definitely believe in lust at first sight.
And I fucking want her.
I can’t help myself. I make my way closer, maneuvering between
security to standing a few feet behind Sarah to watch this beautiful creature.
She looks alive, her eyes dilated and (fuck me) licking her lips. That mouth
is something created from my dreams. She is a goddess, cast down from the
heavens and into this hellish paradise. My eyes linger over her body, taking
in all my favorite parts. I watch her shiver when her eyes land on two
people feeling up their partner. She likes to watch. Her body is her tell;
those nipples pushing through the fabric scream to me everything I want to
know. I want to put my mouth around the hard, little peaks. God, she’s
gorgeous, and as she turns her back, my eyes drift down those locks that hit
almost to the spot where a woman’s back curves to accentuate the swell of
their ass—and damn does she have an ass. I wanna bite it.
This woman is a knockout, and she exudes the confidence of a woman
who knows she’s attractive. Although her gorgeous face isn’t what’s
grabbing my attention; it’s her interest. Not only does she want to be here,
she wants what’s being offered, and I have so much I want to offer her. I
watch her like a panther watches his prey, taking in when she bites her
bottom lip or how often her eyes linger on the PDA being presented. I want
to know everything I can before I pounce. She walks away from the group
deeper into the room, and I know I only have one devious option.
Turning my attention away from my bliss, I look to Sarah. “Get them a
table at another club, on us. Pull around a limo and get them on their way.
Be discreet. Do it now.” Sarah immediately turns to share my offer, and the
girls are appeased. Security begins to escort them out. I would feel guilty
for being so manipulative, but my desire for her has literally turned me into
a monster. That’s a lie—I’ve always been a monster. Although, I’ve never
been so driven to be inside a woman in my life.
 Looking around the room, I spot her by the stairs that lead to the private
rooms. My heart starts pounding as the visuals of taking her into one of
those rooms invades my mind. My feet start moving before I recognize
what I’m doing. I don’t even have a plan. What am I going to say to her?
Hey, mind if I tie you up and fuck in front of an audience? I need to get
myself together. What the hell has gotten into me? Stopping in my tracks, I
run my fingers through my hair, then grip the back of my neck and hang my
head low, taking in a slow, deep breath.
When I look up, I see a sleazy-looking asshole making his way over to
her. As he approaches, she smiles politely, but I can tell she wants nothing
to do with him. He leans in and whispers something to her. I imagine his
breath touching her skin, and when I see her shake her head and take a step
back, I get the urge to make him eat his tongue for whatever he just said to
her. I look over and motion for security.
“Do you see that asshole?” He leans in again to her as she scans the
space for her group.
“Yes, sir.” She backs away, holding up her hands to chest level and
shaking her head again.
“Revoke his membership and kick him out. Be discreet and make sure
he understands he isn’t welcome back, with whatever means necessary.”
“Yes, sir.” Nodding his head and cracking his knuckles, my sentinel
makes his way toward the man at the same moment those beautiful blue
eyes make contact with me. We stand stock-still, held in our gaze. I feel the
draw to this woman from where I stand, and I can tell she feels it too. She
darts her eyes to the door and then back to me, raising her eyebrows as
some kind of challenge. I can’t help it; the corner of my mouth to turn
upward into a sly smile. She wants to play. Giving me a wink, she walks
toward the doors, and I know I need to act. Refocusing, I start on my
original path, weaving through people and making my way to her.
Outside, I see her hail a cab, still looking around for her friends. I need
one sign that I’m not crazy, blinded by my desire for her. The car pulls up
and she reaches for the door, looking back over her shoulder. Her hesitation
is all that’s needed because she isn’t looking for her friends; she’s looking
for me. It’s in that moment that I’m spurred forward, feeling the most
incredible sense of urgency for her to stay. Without second-guessing, I
reach out as she ducks into the cab, grabbing her elbow and feeling the
delicious charge between us. Her head shoots back, and our eyes meet
again.
“Truth or Dare, gorgeous…”
Time seems to stop; at the least, my breathing does. All my wettest
dreams rest on this very moment. The gleam in her eyes says she wants to
play, and that’s the beauty of the question. I can see her truth, she wants
this, and the dare is a challenge she won’t pass up.
Pushing back up slowly to standing, she looks at me and then down to
her elbow. I wonder if she feels the connection, the vibe, the charge—
whatever the fuck anyone wants to call it, we have it. I know she feels it.
The moment our eyes locked, I could see everything. I recognize her
yearning, the fire and the need to dominate and be dominated but not be
controlled. This woman is made for me. I feel dizzy from just touching her
elbow, drunk from the haze of our connection. Her eyes bore down to my
depths because like recognizes like and we stand lost in each other. I know
her answer before it leaves those gorgeous plump lips.
“Truth,” she whispers. Her voice has a slight rasp in it, making my dick
jump. Keeping my eyes locked to her face, I step aside as she turns back to
the front doors, breaking our eye contact. Moving my hand to the small of
her back, I lead her into my hedonist Church.

OceanofPDF.com
I TRY AND STEADY MY breathing as I follow this gorgeous stranger’s lead. I
don’t know why I am so willing to follow him into darkness, but something
about him makes me feel curious and alive, and I swear for a moment it was
as if I recognized him, like we’d met. My brain is on overload. The
attraction is firing between us like tiny firecrackers, gaining momentum
with every step. It’s palpable. This is the very last situation I thought I
would find myself in tonight. But I swear the heat building between us is
crashing like sets of waves, only restrained by our public setting.
The man is massive. He has to be about six foot four, with broad
shoulders and the darkest brown tousled hair, it’s almost black. God and his
hands are like mitts; I can feel it take up my lower back and spread heat up
my spine. His skin is olive colored, and I can see a hint of a tattoo peeking
out from his starched white collar. How much of his body is covered? He
looks polished, elegant with a hint of an edge. His face is rugged, and he
carries a five-o’clock shadow that showcases his full lips. His eyes are held
prisoner by the longest black lashes, but it doesn’t matter because those
hazels are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
The moment he issued that little challenge, disguised as a game, my
body responds automatically. Goose bumps riddle my arm, and I feel
hyperaware of the heat coming from his hand resting on my lower back.
I’ve never experienced a feeling like this, ever. It’s so foreign but very
welcome.
Whatever the hell I’m feeling, I know that it started earlier; I could feel
a shift when I was standing with the girls. It was electric as if someone
turned on a light switch inside of me. I felt someone’s eyes on me, watching
me while I previewed all the sin. A small part of me questioned my sanity,
but now I know that he was actually watching me. How am I not skeeved
out? The most shocking revelation is no, I am not skeeved out; I feel
hungry for his attention. What the fuck is happening to me? What the fuck
am I doing? I have to bite down on my lip to stop any nervous laughter
from escaping because I refuse to turn back now. I’m doing whatever the
fuck I want. All I know is the minute I laid eyes on him, I knew I wanted
him, and I’ve never felt so emboldened in my life.
Looking up, I meet his staring eyes on my lip, as I release it from my
teeth. His fingers press into my back, and he licks his lower lip, seemingly
hypnotized by the action of my mouth. I know exactly what he wants and
everything he’s thinking. The thought throws me because it’s as if I’ve
known him forever, but we’ve just met.
“Have we met? You feel familiar…” My eyes dart away, unwilling to
claim the vulnerability in that statement. I feel stupid saying it out loud.
Thank god for my phone buzzing. I reach into my purse and pull it out to
see a text from Tinkerbell. I swipe my phone open and read the message
saying they “left without me.” I couldn’t care less, but this may be the only
time I’m happy she texted. I’ve spent the entire weekend getting clear about
what I want and who I don’t. The single conversation I had with Nick this
morning was the most relevant of my year. It was our goodbye. Tonight is
supposed to be easy, fun, but he feels too intense to be easy.
His deep gravel draws me back to his face. “No, but I know what you
mean…it’s not déjà vu because every moment feels new, but I do feel it…
the recognition.” Taking a beat, he smirks at some private joke in his head.
“I’m King.” His stare is penetrating as if he sees the thoughts I don’t want
to admit to.
“Just King? You either have quite the complex, or your mother was
trying to indulge her only son.” Laughing, we keep pace back into the main
room and over toward a bank of leather bench seats tucked in by an antique
privacy screen that looks like it will allow for secret touches and dirty
conversation.
“Just King, and I’m not an only child. Are you going to tell me your
name, or will you leave me guessing?”
I smile at the idea of making him guess as reality comes crashing in. I
can’t tell him my name. I shouldn’t be here in the middle of a sex club only
hours after the dissolution of my relationship. My body tenses and I look
away as we move closer to the seats. I try to come up with an explanation
for leaving. That’s the only thing I should be doing right now.
“Don’t leave.” His voice breaks through my thoughts, stopping us in our
places.
“What, wait, huh… How did you know what I was thinking?” I’m
caught off guard by how this deliciously sexy man can understand me
before I have even processed my own thought.
King pulls my body closer so he can lean down close to my ear. “Can’t
you feel it? I know I probably sound crazy, but I can feel your body
humming and I know it’s for me. I don’t care what reasons or reason is
making you second-guess yourself. I need to have you, and I believe you
feel the same way. I have never felt such a pull to anyone in my life. I
would ruin everyone in this room if they stood between us. Stop thinking,
let yourself feel, trust yourself.”
Trust myself? That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. I’m just not sure I
can remember how. But he’s right: my body is humming, and it’s definitely
just for him. The feeling is intoxicating. I want to think I’ve given a long
moment of contemplation, but the truth is the minute I saw this man, we
were a foregone conclusion.
Pushing back against his hard torso, I jump into the deep end of sin.
“Hmmm, I like the idea of leaving you guessing. You clearly like games—
I’ll stay, but no name for you…” Narrowing my eyes at him, I continue.
“Speaking of games, I believe you asked me a question and I answered. The
ball is in your court, King.”
He outstretches his arm to offer me a seat and watches as I take it. How
does he make taking a seat feel like foreplay? The way he watches me, I
feel devoured. I lean back into soft leather bench, supporting myself with
one arm, and drape my long chestnut hair over my shoulder, feeling it tickle
my wrist, leaving my neck exposed.
 His eyes follow to my neck, and they narrow as he bites his lower lip.
This man has the aura of a sex god. I have no doubt he will make me forget
my name and my life. The latter is what I am hoping for the most, but I plan
to flirt back just as hard as I’m getting it. It’s been a long time since I felt
like myself, comfortable in my skin. I’ve spent too much time worrying
about other people when I should have been focused on myself.
“Would you like a drink? Champagne perhaps?” he asks, refocusing his
attention to my face and sitting next to me.
“Bourbon and Sprite would be amazing.”
His grin gives away his approval. I swear I’m wet at the idea of his
approval.
Calling the waiter over, King gives our orders and turns his attention
back to me. “So, truth…” His pause causes me to squirm. “You liked
watching the couple fondle their partner earlier.” His eyes light up when I
press my lips together. I’m hoping that if I press them shut, they won’t give
away my dirty thoughts. The heat rises through my body, and I am grateful
that the room boasts the kind of ambiance that lets my embarrassment exist
in the shadows.
“You were watching me?”
He waits seemingly to gauge my reaction at the realization.
The sides of his mouth make a slow turn upward. “Oh, I was captivated.
I studied every single one of your reactions.” He rubs his jaw, and I notice
the five-o’clock shadow again. I want to run my tongue along the edge of
his jaw.
“Why?” He scoots closer as I lean in, desiring the closeness of his body.
We are cheek to cheek, like before, creating a bubble around us, a haze of
desire we can’t or more appropriately won’t see our way out of. His breath
is warm against my cheek, and I want to turn my head and bite his lobe.
Squeezing my thighs together, I try and keep my breathing calm, which
seems like an impossibility. I can barely think being this close to my divine
stranger.
“Because I want to recreate every single reaction your body had while
watching. The way your legs tensed, but your body wasn’t; you were
squeezing your thighs hoping to take some of the pressure away from that
swollen little clit. Weren’t you?”
“Yes.” My breath is husky and barely above a whisper. Touch me.
 “Your hands rubbed and squeezed at your hips because you were
wishing someone would take you from behind as you watched them. Grip
your body and demand from it. You like the idea of an audience…” The
stubble of his face scratches my cheek, and I lean in fractionally for more.
“Yes.” Touch me.
“You bit your lip because you wanted to feel the pain she felt when they
pinched her nipples…”
My chest is moving up and down on stride with my breathing. I want
him on me, in me, touching me. I want to feel the sting of his teeth on my
nipple. My clit feels like it may explode, forcing my body to rock ever so
slightly with torturous need, but I can’t admit what I desire.
King runs his nose down the side of my neck toward my shoulder in the
same way a person delights in a bouquet, breathing in to take me in and
consume me. “I can smell your excitement. Now, answer me.” His voice is
a command for my answer.
“Yes.” A small moan escapes my lips.
“Yes, what?” he growls, gripping my neck and pulling it to his lips as he
sucks and devours the delicate flesh. I want to accept this part of me. Nick
was cruel and used my proclivity against me. I decide now.
“Yes, I wanted to feel the pain.” Admitting my truth feels like a
baptism. I want to feel the pain, the exquisite pain of being taken by a man
that is meant to dominate me. I want to feel revered and worshipped while
being defiled and owned. He’s everything I never knew I wanted until I
walked into Church.
Releasing me from his decadent assault on my neck, he turns my head
until we are eye to eye. “Come with me.” He stands, holding out his hand
for me to take.
Slipping my hand into his makes me feel small. His hand engulfs mine.
I look delicate, and it’s a feeling I am unfamiliar with. He brings my hand to
his lips and turns it over to kiss the inside of my wrist, causing my stomach
to do a little flip. It’s such a sweet gesture from someone who looks
anything but.
“Be mine for tonight. Let me show you everything your body desires. I
want to bury myself inside you until you forget your own name. Let
yourself be seen. I want the girl behind the mask, the one who keeps her
dirty little secrets and waits to think of them only when she touches
herself… I want her.”
 I’m dumbstruck by his words. I know what I’m doing, and I know that
it’s wrong, but why does every fiber of my being scream to me this is right!
I want this, and the fact that he wants the dirtiest version of me makes me
want to strip my clothes off and fuck him in the middle of the room. I don’t
care about the consequences; tonight is for me. I’m going to drown my
sorrows in King and let him kiss every part and make it better.
“I want to hear it.” He locks eyes with me, shaping my understanding.
He needs to know that I am all in. He needs me to say the words so they can
act like the seal cementing our arrangement. Our one-night-only affair. I
push back from him to give myself distance…distance because I want him
to know that I am not saying anything because he is a heady drug making
my mind splinter from my body. I am of very fucking sound mind and body.
“Just for tonight. I’m yours and you’re mine.”

OceanofPDF.com
KING SLOWLY REACHES HIS LARGE hand out, spreading his fingers as they
touch my stomach until his palm is flat. I can feel the heat from his hands
burning through the fabric of my black silk wrap dress. His touch is delicate
and purposeful, the opposite of what I expected but everything I crave.
“I’m going to kiss you, and I only tell you because I’m not sure how
strong my restraint will hold before I rip that fucking dress off your
gorgeous body.” His voice is controlled through gritted teeth as he gathers
the fabric into his fisted hand, forcing me to pull closer to him. Bringing his
other hand up, he cups my jaw, positioning my head where he wants, and
releases my dress to mirror his already placed hand with the other hand.
Bringing his mouth down to mine to hold me in place, our lips barely
brush against each other, and then softly, reverently, he begins to kiss me.
I’m all consumed, completely enveloped by the movement of our mouths,
the feel of his hands directing my head, my chest against his torso. I don’t
know where I begin and he ends. The outside world is irrelevant. I could
die, and I would be forever sated. The kiss begins to pick up speed as I grab
the front of his suit lapels, like a drowning man to an oar, clinging to the
breath I’m being given.
 Breaking our kiss, King moves one leg forward, forcing me to take a
step back, and I instantly realize we have backed up into another person.
My eyes grow wide with embarrassment, and I turn my head to apologize
when I feel the man run his hand down my arm.
“You’re gorgeous. Any chance you want to share this one?” His voice,
dripping with his attraction, makes me wince and my skin crawl.
King reaches across my stomach, turning it to position my body behind
his. He reaches out lightning fast, grabbing the man by the throat, causing
him to sputter and bat at King’s hands. I’m frozen in my spot. I should run,
but I’m more mesmerized by the calm collectiveness King has. He holds
this man by his throat but doesn’t seem animated or overcome by the man’s
struggling. He’s hyperfocused, protective, violent. This man is powerful and
dangerous. I watch his strong, capable arm flex and undulate as the man
struggles, and just as fast, he releases him, watching him fall to the floor.
He flexes his hand to relieve the stress of the strength of his squeeze and
shakes his head, “Do you know who the fuck I am? If you ever touch her
again, I will have your fingers removed, one by one.” Rubbing his jaw, he
tilts his head. “That’s not an idle threat. Leave before my generosity
changes.” King’s eyes are locked on the man as he struggles to make his
way off the floor, crawling a few feet before standing and running toward
the exit. King turns to me and takes my hands in his. Turning one over, he
kisses my wrist, and my palm caresses his cheek. I can’t help but watch like
everything is in slow motion while my arms populate with goose bumps
from his touch.
“Are you okay? Nobody will ever touch you. That’s a promise.” He
looks up, directing my attention around the room. As I scan the room, eyes
dart away. “Nobody will ever touch what is mine.” His eyes are tender
while his words are possessive and threatening.
It’s in this very moment that I know…I’ve sold my soul to the devil,
and I don’t want it back.
My mind races as we head out of the main room and walk toward the
gorgeous staircase that descends to what King has told me are the private
rooms. My thoughts are fighting for priority in my mind, and I’m not sure
which to choose. Instead of the important thoughts, I blurt out, “What about
our drinks? We left them without paying…”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m known here.
It’s fine.”
“Oh.” Am I crazy? “Oh”—that’s what I’m going with? I should be
running for the hills. He’s probably a psychopath, but I’ve honestly never
felt so safe. That guy was a douchebag. Looking over at King’s profile, I
can’t help but feel calm, like I’m right where I should be.
His thumb gently rubs my back as we walk, creating a hotspot leading
directly to my pussy. We pass three doorways, all ornate, large black doors
with gold plaques. Each plaque has a symbol. I don’t look hard enough to
make them out, but I do notice they are keyless…weird since rooms would
indicate a need for privacy. With every door I pass, I can’t stop thinking of
the naughty, delicious things that are happening behind them, making the
sexual tension amp up, feeling like an electric charge. I feel hedonistic and
wild…I feel free.
I’m led around a corner to a hall with a singular door at the end. This
door is different in that it’s without a symbol, and it’s also the only door
with a keyhole. I turn my head to look at King, watching as he pulls a key
from his pocket and places it in the lock.
He cocks his head sideways, and we connect eyes.
“Nervous?”
“No.”
Holding the key still, he turns it slowly, so slow that even though I
know the lock will open, I jump at the click.
“Liar.” His arrogant smile makes me indignant.
“Would you blame me? You just manhandled a complete stranger
because he touched my arm.”
“No. I just taught a lesson in unwanted affection; would you prefer I let
him touch you? Nobody should touch you without your goddamn
permission. If that makes me crazy, then so be it.”
I’m immediately looking for his angle, but he’s right. “You were so
calm, it was actually a little scary. Seems someone so calm isn’t unfamiliar
with that kind of aggression.” It’s not a question. I know he’s not the kind of
man people disrespect. He has a powerful presence even in his tender
moments.
He stares down at me, unmoving and impassable. I feel stripped,
unnerved, and in unfamiliar territory. My list of one-night stands is slim to
none and especially with someone as intense as King.
“Two things: I am scary, and I would never hurt you.”
His words resonate. I don’t know him, but I am certain he would never
hurt me. He’s the kind of man who protects—so long as you’re not on the
other end of it. It’s nothing more than a gut feeling, but I’m trusting myself.
The silence stretching between us, tethering our attraction, is palpable.
King puts his hand against the door and leans in toward my face.
“Ready?” he asks as he pushes the door open.
Turning my head, I take in the room. An oversized king bed with a rich
deep red comforter backed by a heavy ironwork headboard is across from
me, lit up by the soft amber glow that sets the mood from the bedside
tables. I crane my neck for a better look and can see a small sitting area
facing the bed with high-backed leather club chairs and a glass table in
between accompanied by a bar cart stocked with high-end-looking bottles.
The walls are wood paneled, and they look elegant but purposeful. A set of
wrist cuffs are attached. It looks like a fancy albeit sex-themed hotel room,
but I’m struck by the jacket and small leather duffel that is on a chair by the
bed.
“Is this your room?” I ask, unable to make my legs move forward.
There is something niggling at me. I suddenly feel like a conquest, a warm
body for the night, even though that’s all I promised. I don’t like the idea
he’s been here with other women. What the hell? I’m losing it—how can I
be jealous? I’ve known him for all of a hot second.
“Does the idea that I have a room for myself bother you?” His eyes
search mine for my answer.
“Yes.” I narrow my eyes at him, clearly unembarrassed by my irrational,
absurd anger, but I feel anger, real anger bubbling inside of me, fighting its
way to the surface. I can’t lie to him. I feel unable. I’m also unapologetic
about it. I want him to be my treasure, some incredible reward for fighting
to find my way to the X on the map.
“Good.” His own anger rears its ugly head. “I hate everyone who has
ever touched you,” he growls through gritted teeth as he crashes his mouth
down to mine. Gripping my waist, he raises me to his height, continuing his
murderous assault on my mouth, walking us through the door and kicking it
shut.
“I hate that you’ve touched other women,” I mumble between kisses,
gripping at his suit jacket to remove it, while he places me back to my feet.
“I don’t care if that makes me crazy.”
Grabbing my hands in his own to halt my assault on his jacket, he peels
them off his jacket and lets them drop to my side. The silence is weighted.
It feels tangible. I’m suddenly hyperaware of our matching accelerated
breathing.
“I’ll kill anyone who has touched this body before me,” he rumbles
before grabbing at the front of my dress and tearing it open. I gasp, forced
back by the tearing of my shirt dress, which is now no more than a very
expensive rag. My senses are heightened; I can hear the torn buttons clink
against the floor. My entire body starts trembling at the manifestation of my
restraint. I feel manic; I’ve never been so fucking turned on, and I am not
quite sure what will happen if I give myself full permission to give in to this
need.
He stalks toward me, and I instinctively move backward, but King
reaches out and grabs my bare waist, lifting and tossing me back onto the
bed, I land on my back, he’s hovering over me just as quickly.
“Stay,” he growls, his face almost nose to nose to mine. Holy fuck.
His lips barely brush mine as he walks himself back to standing.
“This won’t do at all.” Looking down at my body, he shakes his head
side to side at his dislike of the pieces of my torn dress that have fallen to
cover me. He reaches out with one hand and traces the exposed flesh
between the fabric, moving it out of the way to leave my body exposed. His
touch leaves a sear on my body that travels down between my thighs, and I
rub my legs together, hoping to pacify the need. He traces slowly, taking his
time, increasing my need until his fingers reach right underneath my belly
button.
“What’s your desire?” His fingertip draws slow lazy circles right above
my center. My body writhes on the bed. “Are you wet for me?” His voice is
sinful as he runs a finger over my lace panties, skimming my clit, making
me shiver for more. Backing away, he stands at the foot of the bed, letting
his eyes wander over my body, my lingerie in full view. His eyes catalog all
the places his hands will touch. I watch him plot and plan where I hope
he’ll decimate me. Unable to control the urge to take his clothes off, I push
myself up to sitting only to be met with his “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” causing my
actions to freeze in place.
“I told you to stay. If I have to repeat myself, there will be
consequences.” I blink rapidly at the delicious promise, my eyes fluttering
back as the visual presents itself like a prayer.
King walks over to a coffee table across from the bed. Standing with his
back straight and his legs spread, he stands like a man in charge, someone
familiar with power and how to wield it over another person. He reaches
under the cuff of his black tailored suit jacket, unfastens his watch, and
places it down on the table. Tilting his head to the side, he gives me a
crooked grin and licks his lips as he unbuttons his suit jacket with one hand
and shrugs it off, laying it over a chair adjacent to his left. After toeing off
his shoes, he starts back to the bed, rolling up his shirtsleeves, exposing his
tattooed forearms. He pulls off his belt and tosses it next to me.
“That’s for later. I have a feeling you’ll need some taming.”
Shit just got real.

OceanofPDF.com
MY BODY IS SHIVERING AS if I have the chills, but I’m not cold—the opposite
actually. I’m on fire watching him saunter back to the bed. He grabs both
my ankles, pulling them slowly and dragging me down to the edge of the
bed. A sinful smile spreads across his face. Bending my knees, he places
my feet onto the bed, leaning forward to push my knees apart until I’m
spread.
My eyes grow big as he cups my center, pushing pressure on my clit
with the heel of his palm. I moan at the sweet torture, grinding my body
back into his hand and gripping the sheets like a lifeline.
“I’m happy to see you like it rough since I didn’t plan on being tender.”
Running one hand up my body, he pushes his finger into my mouth, and
I suck and lick while he separates me from my panties with a firm grip and
rips, causing me to scream out from shock, the bite from the lace pulling
against my skin. My jaw snaps at the hand that’s near my face as retribution
for the sting my pussy still feels, but he’s too quick, pulling his hand back
before I can sink my teeth in too hard. King looks down at his hand,
amused, and then back to me. My chest heaves as waves of emotion and
lust drown me over and over again.
 “Mmmm, you’re going to pay for that, gorgeous.” His eyes are a storm
of sinful rage.
“Promise?” My voice sounds like I’m begging, and I think I may very
well be.
“I’ve never meant anything more. Sweetheart, I will ruin you for any
other man, and then I will keep you.”
His words are a promise for a future that will never happen, but I don’t
care. I want him now. The feeling makes me sit straight up and grip the
sides of his neck, locking our mouths together.
King grabs the back of my hair, pulling to expose my neck so he can
suck and bite at the sensitive flesh. I move my hands to his shoulders,
digging my nails in and eliciting a groan from his mouth against my neck.
We are animals, grabbing, sucking, kissing, ripping off anything in the way
of getting inside of each other.
He takes his hand from my pussy, and my body follows, immediately
left cold by the retreat.
“Tell me what you want…” His voice is a whisper, like the devil on
your shoulder, coaxing and understanding, leading me toward my deviance.
“Tell me what your body needs,” he breathes into my skin, taking my
earlobe into his mouth.
“I want your fucking fingers inside me.” My body grinds toward his
hand with need.
“That dirty mouth will be my demise.” He smiles into my lips as he
kisses softly and brings my torn panties to my lips. My eyes widen with the
realization he’s going to use them as a gag.
“Finger me.” I breathe my last words out heavily, swept up by this
debauchery as the soft lace rag is pushed slowly between my lips. My head
rolls back when he finishes, my arousal pounding through me.
“My fingers are there…can you feel them? If you want them…bring
yourself to me. You’ll have to beg with your body.” His whispers torment
me. I ache for the feeling but am unable to speak. I scoot closer to him,
feeling the tip of his fingers near my entrance. My lust has taken over,
making me feel uninhibited and wanton.
“That’s it, baby. Bring me that pussy. I want to feel how hot you are
around my fingers while I push into you.” Our bodies are almost flush
against each other as I grind toward his fingertips.
 Please, please is all I can think. I’m desperate for the touch. My body
tenses as I push myself closer, trying to reach my reward.
“I want to feel you. I can’t wait to sink my cock into this sweet pussy.
Closer, baby—let me stretch you with my fingers.” His voice is smooth and
approving as I lean my head down on his chest, arching my body to
increase contact with his fingers. Shuddering at the contact, I moan when he
pushes the tip of his thick finger into my entrance. He teases me with only
the tip, increasing my need, and my body starts to rock forward.
“Is this what you want? Goddamn, you’re so fucking wet.” Gripping the
back of my hair, he holds my head steady to his chest as he pushes in
another finger.
There is no sound, no answer. The room is silent, lights dim. Only the
sound of my whimpers acting as my plea can be heard as I grind on his
fingers. The grip on my hair stings slightly, sending chills down my spine.
“Look at me.” His words are a challenge, one I relish in meeting. Eye
contact is the ultimate connection. There isn’t any hiding from him, and for
the first time in a long time, I don’t want to hide myself.
Without hesitation, I shoot my head up and look into those gorgeous
hazel eyes. There’s a fire inside this man, so much under the surface that a
part of me is relieved I will only get him for one night. I’m not sure this
could ever be enough for him; then again, I’m not sure he would let me try.
“Don’t close your eyes, not even for a second. Do you hear me? Nod if
you understand.”
Nodding my head as best I can because he still has hold of my hair, I
wrap my hands around the back of his neck to anchor me to this moment.
His fingers begin a slow and torturous circle at my entrance until my
breathing becomes filled with desperation. I can’t help but bite my lip and
grip his neck tighter. King licks his lips as his eyes dart to my mouth. I use
the momentary lapse of eye contact to close my eyes and relish over the
third finger pushing halfway in, making me stretch.
“I told you not to close your eyes,” he growls as he increases the pace of
his fingers and pulls the lace from my lips harshly.
My breath begins to hitch, and I can feel the pressure building.
“I-I’m…oh god. I’m sorry, I….” I can’t form words. My body is
enveloped by the build of my orgasm.
King takes his left hand, putting it on my chest and pushing my body to
the bed to restrain me in place.
 “Stay put. This time, do as you’re told.” Walking away, he leaves me
cold, and I can’t help but push to my elbows to watch his retreat. Looking
over his shoulder, he shakes his head and opens a drawer on the side wall.
Holy shit, are those nipple clamps?
“I thought I told you to stay,” he says, sauntering back to me, eyes fixed
on mine.
“I’m not that kind of bitch. Humans do as they please.” Raising my
eyebrows, I challenge his domination. Not that girl, buddy.
A slow grin spreads across his face.
“Good. Then I guess I get to do as I please…” Pushing me back to the
bed, his fingers thrust into me, hitting my clit with the heel of his hand
again, causing my body to buck upward with pleasure. I grab hold of the
pristinely made bed, gripping and pulling the covers with the movements of
my body.
“Fuck me!” I moan my appreciation for the attention given to my
throbbing center, enraptured by the swell of desire.
He shoulders my legs roughly so they move aside, rocketing into a pace
I can barely match with the bucks of my body. I’ve never been fucked so
hard. My body is being punished in the most exquisite of ways.
“You were told and now I won’t give you my cock, but you want it,
don’t you? Pounding into you, filling you… Tell me how hard you want it?”
“I want it!” My breath is caught in my throat. “Please. I want it,
King…”
I’m laid open, legs wide, unable to move, being held in place by a large
hand at my breastbone, and my pussy is drenched from the punishing
motions of King’s fingers. I’ve never felt so alive. The harder and faster he
moves, the more I struggle to meet his pace. I’m all need and sweat mixed
with desire. It’s animalistic. My head’s thrashing back and forth as I grip the
bed beneath me, needing, wanting the release that is gathering like a
tsunami.
The cold metal around my hard buds jars my attention, and my eyes pop
open as he affixes the clamps to my taut nipples. “Your body is screaming
for it. You need it. You want it…” He pulls at the chain that connects the
clamps, and they bite into the tender flesh.
“Oh yes.” My body reacts before I can register what is happening. I feel
like I’m having an out-of-body experience, watching myself buck and
writhe into King’s hand as he masterfully conducts my body into a
symphonious orgasm, compounded by the sting from the clamps.
“That’s it. Let go—feel it all, baby. Soak my fingers.” His arrogance
spurs me onward.
“Oh god, King. I’m going to…!” My body curls inside itself with the
intensity of my orgasm, causing me to arch up against his hold, eyes closed,
my hands fisted so roughly they turn white. I orgasm violently, so violently
it may kill me as it rebounds against the pull of the clamps held by my
hardened nipples.
I feel him remove his fingers, the burn serving as a reminder of his
declaration not to be tender. I suck in another breath at the loss, slowly
opening my eyes to see him lick his fingers, tasting my pleasure. My
breathing is still unsteady from the intensity of my release.
“Shh, it’s okay.” He slides his hand down from my breastbone and
skims it across my sensitive clit. “I know it burns, but I’m going to kiss it
and make it better. You fucking taste like a dream…my mouth wants to take
up permanent residence on this pussy,” he croons, reaching back up to
massage my breasts, rolling the hard nipples in between his fingers.
“I don’t think I can take any more…” My voice tapers off as the
sensations from my nipple begin to reignite my spent libido.
“Your body tells me a different story. Like when I do this…” Pinching
his fingers together, he slowly increases the pressure around my nipple,
already sensitive from the clamps, until I feel a sting on my skin. “You want
this. It’s what you need—tell me I’m wrong. Let me show you. The pain
can be intoxicating…” My eyes flutter backward, enveloped by the
sensations saturating my body.
“Oh my…” I breathe out as I writhe on the bed under his skilled hand.
“God, I can’t take it.”
“Baby, we’re just getting started. I’m not your god—I’m your King.”

My body feels spent, and my eyes don’t want to stay open. King followed
through with his promise to kiss and make it better, and now I find myself
being tucked into this huge oversized poster bed with silky sheets and a
decadent deep red comforter. His gentleness and care seem at war with his
dominance, and I want to think it’s a gift just for me. A gift I get to keep for
myself.
“Sleep now,” he coaxes as he stands next to the bed.
“You aren’t leaving me? In this room, that’s in the middle of a sex
club…” Sitting up, my eyes have zero problem staying open now. There’s
that damn grin.
“We aren’t done, baby. You said one night—it’s only 1:00 a.m., and as
far as I’m concerned, I have you until 11:00 p.m. this evening. Twenty-four
hours. That’s the deal.” His voice is sure, confident in his proclamation.
My eyes grow wide with surprise. “Hold on a minute, I said one night.
So technically, it’s morning—our arrangement is over,” I level back,
propping myself with one arm.
“If you think I am going to roll over like a nice puppy because you flash
your tits at me, you’ve underestimated me.” His eyes drift down to my chest
as he bites his bottom lip.
Looking down, I realize my sheet has slipped down during my shock.
“You’ve seen them. I don’t use my body as leverage, and if you think you
can tell me what to do with it, you’ve underestimated me.” I won’t let that
happen again. I’ve learned my lessons from Nick.
He puts both hands on the bed and leans forward. His presence is
overwhelming. I’ve dealt with powerful men in the boardrooms, and
frankly, I may not be my old self completely, but I won’t backbend to
anyone, not even King. But damn it’s hard for me to think when he’s this
close. I’m thinking with all the wrong parts.
“I want you. What do you need me to say to make that happen?”
Covering my chest up, I close my eyes and take a beat. “Try saying
please, King. I can tell ‘please’ isn’t something you use often, but nobody is
allowed to disrespect me. Ever. I decide how long and whom I spend my
time with. Don’t be a dick.”
We stay in our standoff until he sits down on the bed, brushing my hair
from my face. “I want you to stay with me all day, please.”
“Okay.” My mouth slowly turns into a smile.
“Yeah?” he questions with a wrinkled forehead.
“I said yes. Now, can we sleep, in this bed, that’s inside of a fucking sex
club?” Shaking my head, I let out a breath that lives between disbelief and
humor.
“Does it bother you?” His face is suddenly serious as he pulls his pants
off to get into bed.
I take stock for a moment. “No, strangely enough, it doesn’t. Does that
make me so completely strange?”
“It makes you perfect,” he answers, wagging his eyebrows.
“Sweet talker,” I joke, scooting over to make more room for him.
“There’s nothing sweet about me. I’m the devil in disguise. You’d be
smart not to forget that.”
“Has it even occurred to you that I’m not some girl hoping to make you
fall for me in one night? Maybe I’m using you, equally.” Rolling over and
off the bed, I stand, wrapping the sheet around my body. “I’m not a virgin,
and I’m not scared of my sexuality. I just…I don’t know, never had the
opportunity to explore something like this, in this way.” Looking over my
shoulder at King, his demeanor is tense.
His jaw is tight, his arms crossed over his chest. “Maybe it’s me that has
the problem…”
“Sorry, I don’t understand…”
“Maybe it’s me, falling for you…” Stopping in my tracks, I turn around
wholly to face him. What is this man aiming at? We’re togther one night,
and the fact that we’re on the same page, allowing this insanity over each
other, is what makes the attraction feel so real, but it’s not real.
Maybe it is real?
Shut up, brain.
“Well then, maybe I’m not a possibility, and you’d be smart to
remember that.” I can’t jump out of one bed into another. I need to do this
and move the fuck on with my life. I don’t have any interest in him past
tonight, even if a tiny voice is making the protest.
“I think the fact that I’ve found my equal is too tempting to pass up.”
“Ha! Nice line, but can you be just as creative in finding me a dress,
considering it’s your fault I’m only wearing a bra?” Hoping my redirect
works, I walk toward the sitting area again.
“Coward.”
Rolling my eyes, I answer with the only thing I can say: “Clothes.”
“Baby, we are not done. I’ll break you any way I can until you get on
the same page.” He cracks his belt, and my attention is immediately drawn
his way as he walks back to where I’m sitting, in the living room area, to
put his clothes on.
“So, you’re going to fuck me into submission? Spank me?” The thought
makes me hot.
“No, you aren’t submissive. I don’t want to dominate you unless you
want me to. I want to give you every reason to stick around after tomorrow.
I’m gonna break that tough-as-nails, stubborn-as-fuck opinion that you
don’t need anyone.”
I’m actually speechless. Who the fuck is this guy?
Leaning down, King kisses my lips. “I’ll be right back.” He leaves me
frozen to my spot.
Sinking back into the chair, I grab my purse and pull out my phone.
Hovering my finger over the button, the feeling sinks in that this night, all
of it, is my secret. I can’t tell anyone; they’ll have me committed or just
seriously question my judgment. I’m having semi-anonymous sex with a
demigod…it can’t be real. Shoving it back into my purse, I go over a
thousand validations and justifications for my actions. In the end, it doesn’t
matter because I couldn’t be dragged from this room by ten men. I want
King, and I’m taking what I want for tonight.

OceanofPDF.com
I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR MORE than twenty minutes, and I’m getting antsy. I’m
also fully confident I’ve been dissed…I knew it was too good to be true.
I’m also starting to feel the heavy weight of embarrassment. What the hell
did I do? I’m not embarrassed by the one-night stand—who cares—but I
am embarrassed that I’ve made a makeshift sheet dress and I’m debating
with myself about walking out of this damn place. How bad could it be?
People are here to invest their interest in kink, not my wardrobe. I’m sure
I’m not the first woman to have her clothes ripped off her body. Okay, I got
this. The momentary visual of me walking out of the place in a damn sheet
makes me laugh because it’s the most ridiculous sight. I just have to make it
back to my room and pretend this is a look. I’m going to die. Tilting my
head back, I laugh as I grab my clutch off the floor. “Here goes nothing.”
Peeking my head out of the door, the hallway is empty, but it’s an
offshoot to the main hallway, so I wait a few moments, just to make sure
nobody is walking past. Gathering my sheet gown, I take a deep breath and
walk confidently out and around the corner, following the way we came,
right into King.
King holding a garment bag.
King smiling down at me, clearly amused at my fashion choice.
 “What?” I reach out for the garment bag, but King pulls it out of reach.
“You’ve never seen a girl in a sheet gown? It’s very European. Don’t be an
ass, stop smiling. Gimme.”
“You look lovely, but I think you may like what’s in the bag better. Now
say please.”
“You are such an ass.”
“An ass holding your clothing. Now say please, or I’ll take the sheet
with me.”
“You wouldn’t dare…you know what, you would. I’m not going to
beg.”
“I’d buy you a shit ton more than just a dress to get you to beg.” He
licks his lips, clearly turned on by his imagination.
“Pervert.”
“Thank you. Now say please.”
“No.”
He shakes his head. “Have it your way, gorgeous.” He laughs as his
eyes drop to my body.
Before he can reach for my sheet, I drop it, right there in the damn
hallway. The cold hits my center, reminding me of my commando situation,
but I’m not budging. He wants to play, we’ll play. Putting my hands on my
hips, I stand confidently in my body. It’s just a fucking vagina after all.
“Well, King, looks like we are at an impasse. So, seeing as there are
people coming up from behind you, the ball is in your court. You either
hand me my clothes, or everyone gets to see me in flagrante. Your choice.”
He leans his shoulder against the wall, seemingly to cast a bigger
shadow. “You are so damn stubborn. I think I might be in love with you.”
I roll my eyes. “They’re getting closer.”
Looking over his shoulder, he grins. “So it seems.”
“You’re going to let me show my shit to everyone…whatever happened
to chivalry?” I throw my hands up to accentuate my faux frustration.
“I’m pretty sure it’s dead. Do that again—god, when your tits
bounce…”
“King. Seriously, they’re getting closer…” I estimate they’re about
twenty feet away from the over-the-shoulder view.
“And yet you won’t say the magic word…whatever happened to
manners?” His eyes are the picture of amusement.
 “It’s a cruel world.” His smile is contagious because we both know this
standoff is only coming to one end. I called his bluff, and now I’m going to
have to show my ace in the hole…so to speak.
I can’t help but start to laugh. This whole night has been insane, but
what’s unbelievable is that the culmination is me standing in a hallway
practically nude, refusing to say please because he told me to.
Grabbing me, he tugs me against his body and pushes me up against the
wall, sealing a kiss against my lips. I would hear the people laugh and
whisper about our display, but I’m too intoxicated by his cool lips and the
faintest taste of scotch on his lips.
My eyes flutter open as he pulls away, my smile matching his own
expression.
“Do you think they saw me?” I murmur.
“Not unless they have X-ray vision.”
Looking down, I realize King has me covered by his body, his suit
jacket and the garment bag slung across his arm.
“Clever.” I angle up to kiss his chin. This moment feels intimate, raw,
and very real.
“I try. Now will you put your damn clothes on before I actually have to
blind someone.”
“Anything for my King.”
“I like the way that sounds. That makes you my saucy queen, and I’m
not letting you out of my sight.”
I like the sound of that…far, far too much.
We hurry back to the room before I’m on display again, and King hands
me the bag as we enter the room. Taking it, I walk over to the bed and sit.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Taking a seat in the high-back leather chairs, he
crosses one leg and adjusts himself as he watches me.
Unzipping the bag, I pull open the sides to reveal a gorgeous, loose-
flowing hunter green silk maxi dress with spaghetti straps. It’s everything I
would pick out for myself. I absolutely love it.
“Where in the world did you come upon a dress at this time of night?”
There isn’t a shop open this late, and I really hope there isn’t some poor
naked girl stuck here until morning.
“Do you really want to know?” He looks like he’s laughing at some
inside joke as I pull it over my head and let it slide into place over my body.
It’s smooth and cold, flowing freely and exposing my back.
“No, actually I don’t want to know. I may be traumatized for life.”
“Ha-ha. I called my brother and asked him to call the owner of a shop
his wife frequents around the corner.” His smile is like the Cheshire cat. I’ll
kill him.
“Jesus, now I am humiliated! You told your brother that I don’t have
any clothing. He must think I’m a hooker.” I fall back into the bed, pulling
the blanket over me to hide my embarrassment.
“God, you are fucking adorable. Come home with me. We’ll pick up
food, go back to my apartment, and I’ll fuck you into eternity. Don’t say
anything except for yes.”
I mumble from under the covers, “I’m too expensive for you. Now that
I’m a hooker, I’ve decided to be a very high-priced one.”
I hear his steps coming closer, and then King pulls the blanket away and
grabs my hands, pulling me to my feet. “Come on.”
“Okay, but I’ve never been so happy that my name is my little secret.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that…”

“Burgers or pizza, gorgeous?”

“Is that a real question? Pizza, but where are we finding a place at this
time? It’s 2:00 a.m.”
King wags his eyebrows as he leans forward to direct the driver. “I have
a spot just by my place.”
The man knows the way to my heart is through a perfectly prepared
deep dish. “Are you from Chicago or have you just lived here long? ”
“I don’t. I just keep a place for when I’m here on business. My brother
lives here.”
“Ah, so you live…”
“In a city. Tell me your name, and I’ll tell you everything you want to
know.”
“No way, not a chance. You could be a stalker.”
 “Well, it’s too late now. I already plan on stalking you, so just make it
easier for me.”
“Great! A lazy stalker, just my luck…I really get all the winners.”
“Speaking of losers, tell me about who gave you pause tonight? I
assume there’s a jackass, somewhere, that has broken your heart.”
“Pause? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I know he’s referring
to when I almost left, but I’m not getting into that.
“You really think I’m going to let that slide?”
Looking out the window, I watch the buildings pass, the blur of lights
creating a moving mural, and I’m weighed down by my yesterday. “He was
someone who I thought was special, so I gave him importance. Even above
myself—so far above that when he looked down, he couldn’t see me
anymore.”
“That’s not your role, gorgeous. A real man doesn’t require a spotlight.
You’re fucking amazing—don’t forget that. I mean, we are talking about a
girl who stood her ground—butt naked—just for the sake of not being
bossed around.” Grinning at me, he reaches out and touches a strand of my
hair. “How can anyone not want to worship her? You’re a goddamn boss.”
Laughter escapes my lips, and I throw my head back. “Thank you for
that, and I agree that’s why I’m pissed I allowed myself to be manipulated.
But honestly, King, I feel more myself with you than I have in a long time.”
“Sweetheart, it’s not me. Don’t ever give any credit to anyone above
yourself. You’re a goddess, and if he doesn’t see that, then I’m more than
happy to steal his girl.” Winking at me, he scoops up my hand, kissing the
inside of my wrist and keeping them entwined.
“Drew. My name is Drew.” He squeezes my hand, and we sit in the
back of his black SUV looking out the windows. It’s strange, but keeping
my name from him felt unwelcome anymore. How can I deceive a man who
expects me to think of myself like a fucking queen?
“My home base is New York.” His voice cuts through the silence as we
sit holding hands and enjoying the view. The silence is comfortable and
easy, not at all forced or awkward. It’s the kind you share when you’ve been
with someone forever, not three hours.
The car slows as we pull up to the pizzeria.
“Be right back” is all he says as he jumps out to grab our pizza. It’s
strange that a man who has a driver wouldn’t just have the driver do it, but
he seems to be known at the pizzeria because I can see the guys behind the
counter walk around to greet him. I feel an opportunity arise, so I pounce.
“Have you been King’s driver long?” I lean in, hoping to seem
nonchalant so I can mask my nosiness.
“I drive for both Mr. Kings” is answered back swiftly in a very heavy
Chicago accent.
Wait a minute, King is his last name. Cheater! The thought makes me
smile. All this time I thought I was a step ahead, but I was being bested at
my own game.
“Ah, do you happen to know the name of the store Mr. King…oh, I
mean, uh, oh geez…this is so embarrassing, but we just met tonight and I
don’t remember his name. Guess I had a little too much…”
“Nice try, doll.” He grins as King opens the door, causing me to scoot
back and looking about as caught as I feel. I’m sure my grin isn’t giving
anything away.
“What’s going on here…?” Smiling, King’s eyes narrow with curiosity
as he hops in with the pie.
“Nothing, what do you mean? Is that all meat? Delish.” I can’t help but
be distracted by the smell, motioning for him to open the lid.
“George.” King levels a stare as he opens the top to show me. Yes, all
meat!
“Yes, sir, I believe I was being hustled for your name. She’s a smart one
—you may want to sleep with one eye open,” George says, throwing me
right under the bus.
“Seriously? Hustled is a strong term.” I give George the stink eye. “I
would go with gently coerced, and P.S. you lied,” I say, pointing an
accusing finger toward King. “You told me your name was King, but that’s
not your name.” Boom.
“It’s my name, just the last part. All you have to do is ask, Drew.”
Rolling my eyes but unwilling to admit defeat, I realize that I don’t
want to ask for anything. This game we’re playing with each other is
ridiculous, slightly immature, but I fucking love this foreplay because that’s
exactly what this is—foreplay.
“I don’t want to ask. It makes me feel like I’m losing our little game.” I
wave him off dismissively before he can see what a sore loser I really am.
His laugh fills the car, making me laugh with him. “You’re really
fucking refreshing, you know that? Gorgeous, I would give you the world if
you’d let me, but I have a feeling you would rather acquire it all yourself.”
“Yes, yes, I would, but I’m not so stubborn that I can’t ask for help.
George here is the perfect example. I asked him to remind me of your
name.” Game, set, match.
Smiling in the mirror, King gives a slight nod. “Yes, ma’am. Mr. King’s
first name is Dominic.”
How the hell did he just get even sexier?

OceanofPDF.com
WE PULL UP TO THE row of gorgeous Chicago brownstones, the kind that
ends up on the insides of all those house magazines. I’ve loved this
neighborhood since I was a child and visited Chicago. I remember wanting
to move here and my parents being devastated because that meant I would
be moving away from home—home being California—but every time my
dad had to come here on business, I would beg to come too.
We come to a stop in front of an all white house with the grandest steps
adorned by gold lions on each post that keeps guard over the black wrought
iron gate. The door is red, making it stand out against the white
background, offset by two potted topiaries. It’s perfect.
The lights are on inside the home, making me pause and point to the
window as I look at King.
“Controlled from my phone. I like gadgets, and security is important.”
He shrugs and grabs my hand, then leads me to the gate, which I open since
his other hand is holding our pie.
“Do me a favor—reach into my pocket and grab my keys, will ya?”
“Mmhmm, sure.” Without hesitation, I reach into the hip pocket he has
jutted out toward me and feel around for the keys.
 “Easy tiger, we’re in public. No need to get all grabby hands on me,
unless that’s what you’re aiming at. Just so you know, I’m not opposed.”
“Shut up.” Giggling, I hand him his keys, but he keeps both hands on
the pizza and nods his head toward the door. As I open the door, my heart
skips a beat, knowing that I’m really going all in with this guy. We’re
bringing pizza back to his damn house. I’m like Cinderella, but I don’t want
my prince in real life because this princess needs to get her shit together
first.
“You’ve either been robbed, or you just moved in.” His house is empty
save the light in the front room, coming from a plain metal standing lamp.
The room across has the same ambiance, leaving the gorgeous wide-plank
dark wood floors as the only item to admire. Its bay window has a fold-out
chair and table in front as makeshift seating.
“For entertaining?” I smile. He chuckles at my sarcasm.
We walk through the extra-wide hallway next to his office, which is
decked out with a desk chair and computer. Rounding the corner, we enter a
great room where the kitchen and family room are open to each other. The
kitchen island is massive in cool gray and white marble with subway tiles
for the backsplash, accenting the white cabinetry. His family room has a
leather sectional couch and the largest television I’ve ever seen. Looking
over at him, I can see him seeing his place through my eyes. The humor is
written all over his face.
“I’m never here, so there really isn’t a reason to furnish it, and when I
am in town, I typically stay at the club. No need for the space, but I keep it
as an investment.” Cocking his head, he gives me that damn stare, the one
that makes me feel exposed and antsy.
“How long have you owned this property?” I start to meander through
the space toward the windows that lead to the outdoor patio, and I flick on
the backyard lights.
“Five years.” Bulb lights flood the space and take my breath away. The
most beautiful garden is planted around a farm table adorned by the string
lights. It’s dreamy.
“This is beautiful, King.” I stare out at the picturesque garden,
envisioning tables being set and dinners being eaten.
His voice fills the spaces of my daydream. “My mother loved to garden.
Always had my brother and I help her in planting some vegetable or another
rosebush in the backyard. When I moved in, the previous owners had this
space planted and created, so I’ve just maintained it all these years. It
reminds me of her.”
Turning, I walk back over to the kitchen island where King is standing,
staring out at the tiny sanctuary.
“How long has it been since you lost your mother?”
“I was fifteen, and it was both my parents. Drunk driver. My brother
was all the family I had left until Ella…she might be the cutest niece in the
history of nieces.” His eyes are fixed to the backyard as if he is a million
miles away, only breaking when he starts speaking about his niece.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sure your mother would have loved to have shared
this with you. I didn’t mean to pry.” For a small moment, I can see his
vulnerability, but his mask slides back into place just as quickly.
“ It’s fine. It’s been a really long time, over twenty-five years, so I’d say
I’ve had time to adjust. It’s funny though; I can’t remember the last time I
spoke about them to someone other than my brother. It’s nice.” He shakes
his head incredulously.
He holds out a slice of pizza, and I take it and hop up on the counter. “I
believe that. You don’t seem like an open-book kind of guy. I just assumed
this was your schtick. Bring a girl home, wine and dine her”—I motion
elaborately to the pizza—“make her feel all special, and then wham, bam,
thank you, ma’am.” I smirk, hoping to lighten the mood.
“I’m that obvious, huh? Oh well, just go upstairs and take your clothes
off. I’ll be up in a minute after my pizza.”
“Dick!” Laughing, I throw my napkin at him, and he swats it away, then
grabs my wrist, holding me still.
“Truth is, I’m not an open book. I don’t bring ‘women’ here, which is
why you are becoming quite the problem for me.”
Women doesn’t mean “never.” This is one night, Drew.
Wanting to steer clear of that land mine, I pull my wrist from him and
look at my pizza, adding, “Still, I can’t imagine going through something so
difficult, so young. You guys are lucky to have each other.”
“It wasn’t great, but having Luca made me focus. I always want more
for him, more than our history. He’s the good one.” Winking at me, he takes
a bite of his pizza.
“Well, clearly I’m fucking the wrong brother—get him on the phone.”
I barely get my sentence out before my pizza goes flying and I’m
yanked off the counter and over his shoulder.
 I scream with surprise. “King!” I can’t help but laugh at his bravado.
“That’s it, now you’ve done it. I think we need to take this upstairs and
teach you a lesson.”
Hell yes!
I yelp at the bite felt on my ass as we climb the steps to the top. “I’ve
wanted to do that since I spotted you in the club tonight.”
My laughter continues until we reach the bedroom door. Kicking it
open, another squeal escapes my lips, and then I’m falling onto the bed,
staring at his face. It’s bright and full of mischief. He’s a generator of joy,
and it’s rubbing off. I reach out and touch his face, bringing his lips down to
mine, kissing them gently and softly. He crawls onto the bed, holding his
full weight off me as we continue the kiss, allowing it to deepen and grow
more urgent. Running my hand through his hair, he takes my right arm and
pins it above my head and pulls away from our kiss. “I’m not sure what’s
happening between us, but I already crave it.” He dives into my neck,
sucking and kissing, making my back arch into his body while my free hand
roams his strong, muscular back.
King’s kisses meander down to my collar and then my breastbone.
Letting go of my wrist, he runs his hand over my breast that’s under my
dress. “This needs a remedy.” Pushing himself to standing, he pulls me up
too and begins to slip the strap from my shoulder with his fingertips. It’s
slow and teasing, the action making us both watch with anticipation. My
body is hot and needy as the strap falls and hangs low enough that the top
of my nipple shows from under my lace bralette. His fingers trace the
areola, pinching my hard nipple between his fingers. A heady breath laced
with desire leaves my lips. “I like you like this—accepting, sexual. It’s
fucking intoxicating. You’re spectacular.”
He kneads my breast, and my body pushes into the pressure. He pulls
the other strap, allowing for the dress to fall down and pool at my feet. I’ve
never felt sexier, and all I want is this man, right now.
King runs his hand through my hair to grip the back of my head. “Use
your words, Drew…” He may seemingly be giving me permission to voice
my desires, but he’s really asking me what I want. My breathing is heavy,
and the sweet smell of sex has permeated his room. My hands run up his
chest, feeling the muscles under his dress shirt. When I get to the top, I
unfasten the top two buttons, exposing the tattoo that covers his chest and
arms. Reaching my hand in between to feel the heat coming from his skin, I
trace the intricate design. He’s such a force, but I don’t want to be
overwhelmed. I want to control. I’m feeling domineering and sexual.
Gripping the back of his hair, I lock eyes with him, applying enough
pressure to hint at what I want. “King, I don’t require you on your knees,
but I love it when you’re there.” I pull my hand downward on the back of
his hair, making his chin jut up slightly as his lips upturn in appreciation of
my request.
“With pleasure,” he croons before dropping to his knees, making me
feel powerful and desired. He caresses my legs to open wider, and his
mouth finds my center.
Ecstasy.
My body hunches over with the sweet kiss to my clit. Dear God, this
man knows how to please me. Taking my leg, he throws it over one
shoulder, exposing my center to his wet mouth. “You taste like peaches, the
kind dipped in honey.” He dives back in like he’s found his purpose, my
head throwing back as a moan escapes from my throat.
“Fuck, King, that feels so good. Please never stop.” My voice is
pleading.
“I want to dip you in honey and lick it all off, but for now, I’ll take just
the licking.” He hums into my clit as my body convulses from the
vibrations.
“Jesus, King, you’re so…” The words are barely out of my mouth when
he pulls away, tosses my leg back down, and stands up. I’m disoriented
from the quickness of his actions, and I grab his arms to steady myself. His
entire body eclipses mine as he looks down at me.
“What…what are you doing?” I’m panting from need.
“Do you trust me?” Tilting his head, his face is serious, and I’m fixated
on his middle finger tracing his bottom lip as he cleans my juices from his
mouth.
“Yes. I do.” But more importantly, I trust myself. My gut says King
would protect me, even from himself.
“Open your mouth.” The side of his mouth curls in a devious way.
My breathing stills, like when you do something you’re not supposed to
and you don’t want to be caught. I know whatever I’m about to blindly
agree to is probably wrong, but my desire outweighs my rationale.
Parting my lips, I widen my mouth until it’s agape. Jesus, watching him
watch me might be the sexiest exchange I’ve ever had with a man. His eyes
grow hooded, and the way he licks his lips like he’s tasting me for the first
time makes me want to lick them too.
He extends the same finger he wiped his mouth with and traces his
fingers over my lips, slowly inserting his finger in my mouth. “Suck.”
I do as I’m told, the tartness a reminder of my excitement. His deep
voice draws out my desire to suck and nip at his finger.
“Do you see how sweet you taste? If you had any idea the things I want
to do to you… I know what you want, Drew. I see myself in you. We’re
alike. If you let me, I will show you heaven, but only after we’ve been
through hell.” His eyes are fixed on me, boring into my soul.
My head falls back, and he runs the same finger down my throat. “But
you have to trust me.”
My body is already in agreement, but I’ve allowed another man to
control me for the last year of my life, and I won’t let that happen again. I
won’t be led by anyone anymore. Rolling my head around, I look at his
beautiful face.
“I don’t need a teacher, King.”
Biting his lip, he shakes his head, clearly amused with me. “You
misunderstand. There’s nothing for me to teach you. I want to be a student
of your body. I want to learn how I can please you in every way. And
gorgeous, I want to start with exploring your affinity for pain.” His hand
cups my pussy, and his fingers grip, pulling the tiny hairs, making my body
pull forward toward the sting. He releases, massaging his fingers into my
clit.
“Oh god, yes.” My voice is barely above a whisper. His strong arms pull
me closer to him so he can speak against my ear.
“You like it when it hurts, when I’m rough. I feel the fire raging inside
of you, and I want you to feel the bite so you can experience the pleasure.
But I need your trust, Drew. This only works when we both trust.” Pulling
back, he looks into my eyes.
I cast my eye downward. I don’t want him to see me. It’s too vulnerable
for me because he’s right. I’ve always liked a little sour with my sweet, but
Nick used moments like this as retribution. It was mean and cruel, but this
feels different. It feels right. I’m not Nick’s protégé anymore; tonight I’m
the Queen to my King. I shoot my eyes back to his.
“I trust you, but do you trust me?” My voice is confident but
questioning. I’ll never have the wool pulled over my eyes again.
 King stills, then grabs my jaw and forces my face to look at his. “I don’t
trust anyone. Ever. And I don’t how, but you’ve crawled under my skin, and
I couldn’t get you out of my body if I tried. I’d trust you with my life,
Drew.” The moment is so real. So intense and extreme. I feel unhinged and
connected all at the same time.
“Who the fuck are you?” My eyes search his for the answer.
“I’m the one.”
My words are cut short by his mouth on mine as he pushes back toward
the bed, spinning me around much like my thoughts and bending me over.
“Don’t move. Hands behind your back.” Holy shit is all that comes to
mind when the side of my face hits the bed. I’ve been put down like a
criminal. It’s debasing and I fucking love it.
“Cross your wrists.” The gravel in his voice makes me immediately
wet. My pulse is through the roof. I cross my wrists behind my back and
wait. The silence is deafening. I have no idea where he’s gone or what’s
happening until I hear a humming sound getting closer and closer.
Opening my mouth to speak, I’m silenced by his hand caressing my
bare ass. “Have you had anal sex? I’m hoping the answer is yes because this
ass is too tempting for me to pass up, and with it propped up like this…
mmmm.” The slap of his hand against the flesh cracks through the room.
Turning my head sideways, I bite my lip in anticipation of what’s
coming next. “Yes. I have .”
“Good.” He tugs at my hands, and I feel something coarse wrapping
around my wrists, holding them tight. Pulling them apart slightly, I test my
restraint, proving its strength and its pinch. I am bound, bent over this,
about to be fucked well.
“Test it all you want, but you aren’t pulling loose. You will want to, but
every time you pull, it will be that much more painful. The sting should
serve to remind you that I’m owning this body.”
Something about his words makes me tug again, just for the challenge,
and he’s right. It’s coarse enough that it pricks at my skin, causing goose
bumps to spread up my arms and my legs to squeeze together to try and
relieve the ache I’m feeling.
“That’s it, baby, you feel it already. Fuck me, watching you squirm is
making my dick hard. Be good or I’ll make you suck me off and then come
on those gorgeous tits.”
“Yes, make me…” Please.
 “Fucckkk,” he growls behind me. Everything he says with that gravelly
voice just adds fuel to the fire. I’m writhing against the bed, trying to rub
my clit against it for more pressure.
“Stay still,” he grits out between his teeth before grabbing my ass
cheek.
His hand runs up my spine as he grips underneath my hair with his other
hand, tightening his fingers at the base of my head and applying enough
pressure to make me feel held down. I’m bound and bare and ready for
everything he has in store. His foot pushes between my feet to open my legs
wider as he runs he hands over my ass, dipping his middle finger in
between the cheeks and letting it linger for only a moment before he thrusts
two inside of my pussy. I groan out from the welcome surprise.
My body begins to meet the rhythm of his fingers as he glides them in
and out, and my muscles tighten in sync with the combustion that’s starting
to build, only to take my breath away as he pulls his fingers from me to use
my juices to coat the tender entrance above.
“Deep breath, gorgeous.”
I barely inhale when I feel the tremendous pressure accompanied by the
vibration. I’m crazed and heady, pushing back into the discomfort and the
enjoyment until I feel the hilt of the device.
“This ass is gorgeous and mine, baby, but I’m going to fill you
everywhere…” The exquisite pain of being owned by this taboo act has me
drowning in desire. My body moves with the vibrations, wanting it deeper,
faster. I’m on my tiptoes, using my body to beg for more.
“Are you clean?”
I can barely register the question as he pulls the device in and out.
“What?” I nod my head yes, understanding what he’s asking.
“Answer me. I want my cock inside of you without a fucking condom.”
“Yes…yes, I’m clean. No condom, yes…”
King’s hands are on my hips, flipping me over onto my bound arms,
spreading my legs and gripping my thighs, thrusting into me. It feels like
I’m being split in two. His cock is huge, and every thrust, every pound has
me gasping for breath. Breath I would use to beg for more, for him to never
stop.
“Fuck, your pussy is so tight,” he growls as he punishes my body with
every thrust.
 The fullness of my body being owned, filled, takes my breath away, and
I arch up my breasts, pushing toward King. He pulls the cups of my bralette
down, lowering his body to take my nipple in his mouth, sucking hard.
I inhale against the strength of the suction, exhaling when he rolls his
tongue around and begins nipping at my breasts, biting just enough to make
me squirm. I’m a torrent of lust, and I tighten around the vibrations coming
from between my cheeks. I try to pull my wrists apart, igniting a sting in my
wrists just as King bites down on my nipple hard. A scream from my lips
erupts as my orgasm explodes from my body. I’m frozen, every muscle
tense as I ride out the convulsions.
“Yes. Feel it, Drew. You’re mine, meant for me.” King pulls the toy
from me, eliciting his own roar of satisfaction with his last thrusts, filling
me with his warm release.
My muscles start to relax, and my breathing begins to calm as I open
my eyes to King’s hazel stare. I can tell he’s waiting for a thank-you. Sexy,
arrogant asshole.
“Are you going to stare at me all day, or are you going to untie me?”
“I’m undecided.” He winks, motioning for me to roll over.
I roll to my side, and he unties my hands with a deft swiftness that gives
away his expertise.
“Nice party trick.” Grinning, I rub my wrists to alleviate the burn.
“I took a class at the Y.” He pulls me toward him and turns my hands
palm side up and kisses the insides of my wrists. “No permanent marks.”
I can’t reconcile how he can be so aggressive but so tender. He doesn’t
make any sense. I pull my wrists away and sit up, turning my back to him to
stand. “Oh yeah, I think I saw that one. It’s called ‘How to be a perv and
win girls’?”
“If I’m a perv, you’re a perv.” King grips my waist, pulling my back to
the front of his body and snaking his arm around to cup my breast as he
begins a new assault on my neck.
“Are you quoting The Notebook to me?” The end of my sentence trails
off as the sexy kicks in.
“No, that was about birds. Plus, you really think I’m the kind of guy
that builds a girl a house in the hopes she’ll come back to me?”
“No, but I do think you’re the kind of guy that has secretly seen The
Notebook.” I can’t hold my laughter in, and I’m met with King’s hands
punishing my sides with tickles.
 “Quit! King, stop, I’m gonna pee!”
Breaking away, I take off across the room, but he’s faster and stronger,
catching me before I make it to the door and sweeping me up into his arms.
I scream with laughter, brushing the hair from my face. Looking into his
eyes, I see the glimmer and watch it fade into what looks like doubt.
“What kind of man do you think I am, Drew.” His tone is serious.
“The kind that gets what he wants,” I answer honestly.
“Don’t ever forget that.” His words are a warning. “And I know what I
want.” He places me back on my feet, and I turn to walk back to the bed,
unwilling to bite, but he catches my wrist.
“What kind of woman do you think I am, King?” I want to be the
reflection I see in his eyes, but I’m scared.
“The kind that’s forgotten how much power she holds.”
I’ve never felt more accountable for the fragments of myself that I gave
up.

King collapses on top of me, my body still trembling, my grip still glued to
his back. I rub my fingers over the welts I created with my fingernails, and
he grimaces.“Owww, easy, tiger,” he laughs.
“Sorry, I got away from myself…” I kiss his neck, running my tongue
over the tattoo that stops at his collarbone. His pecs and both arms are
covered in an intricate design woven together like each depend on the other,
like a tribal chain link.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. Every time I see those marks in the
mirror, my dick’s going to get hard.”
He pulls out of me, making me draw in my breath. I feel raw, stretched,
and ravished. He’s right: he’s ruined me. I’ve never had sex on a level in
which I was quite literally lost in another person. I’m overcome by the need
to be closer, to feel him deeper, and we nearly tore each other apart. We did
tear my bra apart. Note to self, no more “delicates” around this man. Shit,
not that there is a next time.
“Scoot closer.” The gravel in his voice gives away his fatigue.
 I do as I’m told, molding my body to his, hoping that my warning will
stick but knowing it won’t.
We lie there, spooned and cocooned in our own little world. His
breathing is heavy, but I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking, a thousand
thoughts running through my head. I’ve never been with someone like him,
someone so dominant and yet so insistent on my equality. He is all grown-
ass man, and I’m addicted. Now that I’ve had a taste, how do I walk away?
I know we said just for tonight, but maybe…maybe nothing, I catch myself
before I get too far down the fantasy trail. I need my independence, the
freedom to rediscover myself without the expectations of another man.
I need to get my shit together, and I am not ready for Dominic King.
“Spill. I can almost hear your goddamn thoughts. I’m never going to
sleep if your wheels keep spinning. Speak, woman.”
Turning over quickly, not at all surprised by his intuition, I snuggle into
my pillow as he readjusts his hand to lie heavily on my hip. His eyes are
still closed, like he is committed to his sleep. The thought makes me smile.
He’s stubborn. I can’t help but allow myself the indulgence of taking in all
his features. God his lips are perfect. I keep staring, taking in the tiny dark
brown beauty mark at the top of his eyebrow and the tiny white scar by the
bottom of his lip.
Reaching out, I trace it with the tip of my finger only to be met with
King’s teeth as he snaps out to nab my fingers without hurting me.
“Ahhh!” I scream out and begin to giggle. “Don’t bite!”
“But you like it when I bite.”
My cheeks flush from the truth of that statement.
“How’d you get that scar anyway?”
“Knife fight.” His face stays calm and unmoving.
“Ha-ha, seriously…” I roll my eyes, my voice laced with my disbelief.
“Seriously.”
I can’t tell if he is joking or if he’s serious. The idea that at some point
in his life he was mixed up with some kind of criminal element isn’t
surprising. His entire demeanor screams dangerous even though I’m not
frightened. He’s more dangerous to my heart because I am angrier at the
idea someone hurt him rather than the fact that he was in a knife fight.
Opening one eye, he looks at me and smiles. “I cut it on the corner of a
coffee table when I was a kid, running through the house with my brother.”
I can’t help but smile. Maybe I’m relieved a bit.
 “I know you have more questions, but you only get two more because
after that I’m going to do a better job of fucking you to sleep.”
“You asked that guy, at the club, if he knew who you are. Who are you?
Are you a bad guy?” I don’t think he’s a bad guy… but it doesn’t mean he
can’t be.
“I’m someone who doesn’t like to share, and sometimes that makes me
a bad guy to take from.”
“That’s too vague. That shouldn’t count as a question because the
answer was bullshit.”
“Nice try, sweetheart. That was two questions.” Opening his eyes
slowly, he rolls toward me, pinning me underneath and straddling me.
“No way, not fair.” My rebuttal is weak at best. I think it’s pretty
obvious I like this game better.
“My turn, gorgeous. Truth or Dare?”
Biting my lip, I wrinkle my nose to feign irritation, when I actually feel
the opposite. “What’s with you and the Truth or Dare? Do girls really eat
this stuff up?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve only ever tried it on you, and seeing as I had
such a fantastic result, I’d like to give it another go.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at his arrogance. “Truth. I’ll never pick
dare. No way—I don’t trust you or myself.”
His laugh fills the room. “Fair enough. So, truth. Let me think of a good
one.” Leaning down, he takes a nipple in his mouth, making a throaty moan
come from me, then lets it go with a pop. “What’s your last name?”
“Matthews. You really are a lazy stalker.”
“I am, but I need to know you.” He kisses the tip of my nose as he
dismounts my body to lie beside me.
“I’m an open book but only for twelve more hours or so,” I say,
reaffirming the inevitable end of this affair.
“Ah yes, our ending. Well, I guess I’ll have to ask you everything I can,
then.”
I smile at the thought of this Pandora’s box. I can already tell he is
going to have more than one or two questions. “I’m an open book.”
“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone…ever.” He snuggles into
his pillow, and we lie face-to-face.
I narrow my eyes. “I’ve killed a man.” I try to make my voice as
believable as possible.
 “Me too.” His face is impassable, serious, his voice cold. We sit staring
at each other until wrinkles form around his eyes from his smile. “Just
kidding.”
“That’s not funny. You are too good at acting; you had me for just a
minute.”
“And you lay here? You thought I was a murderer and you just lay
here?” His laugh is disbelieving and makes me laugh too.
“Look, nobody’s perfect and you’re pretty good with that mouth…
sooo.”
“Saucy, saucy woman.”
My yawn breaks free as King pulls me to him. I rest my head on his
chest and listen to his breathing become steady and deep.
I drift, my eyelids drooping closed, my body feeling heavy and melting
into King’s. As I fall deeper, a voice whispers into my dreams: “I’ll never
find another you, so I’m never letting go.”

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“WAS HE MEAN IN OTHER ways?” He questions while drawing swirls with his
fingertips along my collarbone. True to his word, he’s been asking me
everything he can think of since we woke up around 11:00 a.m.
“No, just a self-esteem slayer. Well…I don’t know. Kind of.” I shrug,
feeling sympathetic toward the girl I used to be. It seems so long ago even
though it’s only been a weekend that I’ve been away.
Sitting up, his frown lines deepen. “What does ‘kind of’ mean.” His
eyes are on me, looking for any visible representation of Nick’s cruelty.
“No, no like that. He didn’t hit me…it was just, he used sex as a
weapon. I’ve never said this out loud. But once he squeezed my bottom
especially hard and played it off like a sexy punishment. And he pinched
my nipple so hard it left a bruise, all in the name of ‘angry sex,’ but it just
felt mean and cruel. I told myself he would never really hurt me because I
was so fragmented and desperate to make it work. I always felt so degraded,
humiliated that I wasn’t stronger, more in control, but I believed he loved
me. Wow, it feels good to say that out loud.” My burden had become my
secret.
“So, he was mean in other ways.” His eyes are cold.
 “Yes, he was. He could be cruel, but it was always masked as something
else. I never realized it in the moment because of the manipulation, and
hindsight wasn’t my friend because by then I wondered if I was
overreacting or being overly sensitive. I’m damn glad to be done. I’ll never
let another man put me on my hands and knees again.” He smiles at my last
words, and I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I hope I get to meet him one day.” I’m pretty sure King isn’t looking
for new friends. Nick better hope they never meet. A tiny part of me wishes
they would.
Hoping to lighten the mood, I add, “Oh, hell no! That’s all I need is for
you to start choking every ex-boyfriend I ever disliked.” I smirk,
envisioning King on a rampage through my hometown.
“I will, with your permission of course. I’ll even say please.” I’m
grateful for laughter, but his smile never quite reaches his eyes. I know he
won’t forget this conversation.
Laughing, I lean forward and kiss those perfect lips. I want this moment
to last forever. How can I have just met a man and feel so connected and
protected?
“Just fuck me, you big dummy!” His smile is contagious, and I can feel
the heat in my cheeks.
“Say please.” His voice is sensual, the words calming our playfulness. I
can’t help but stare as he accentuates his statement by pulling in his bottom
lip and biting it as his eyes drift down my body.
“Please. Fuck. Me. King.” I accentuated each word like swigs of
gasoline being thrown on a fire.
I am met with the sexiest smile as he brings his knees in between my
legs, pausing only as a recognition that we are going to burn this damn
place to the ground.

We sleep for another hour before dragging ourselves away from each other.
As I put my dress back on, I realize I don’t have underwear or a bra to wear,
which is probably a good thing.
 “Hungry?” His pearly whites gleam from that gorgeous smile.
“Hell yes.” I grab my heels and put them back on, then run my fingers
through my hair. “I need to wash my face, and I need a toothbrush. Got any
spares for your hookers?”
“Ha, use mine, hater.”
Smiling, I make my way to the bathroom to wash my face and give
myself a quick wipe down with a washcloth. I brush my teeth the whole
time, trying to ignore my rumbling tummy.
“Come on, gorgeous. I’m getting grumpy… Car’s waiting.”
“Coming,” I call out, grabbing my purse from the counter when I round
the corner. King is standing at the door in jeans, a white T-shirt, and
sneakers. My god, I’ve never seen something so sexy. All six foot four of
him, with his dark brown hair and stubble, just leaning against the
doorframe exuding sex appeal.
“I think I’m a little overdressed.” I do a little spin.
“You’re perfect.”
Grabbing my waist, he kisses me, then leads me to the car.
We drive out to a little restaurant overlooking the river in the city. It has
an elegant dining room, bordered in glass walls with linen tablecloths and
crystal glassware that pulls just enough sparkle from the sun on the
surrounding patio that a tiny rainbow is reflected on the corner of the table
we pass.
Sitting outside on the patio, he orders for the both of us while I enjoy
the scenery. It doesn’t feel controlling but rather polite. The weather depicts
a perfect summer day, and the sun on my shoulders feels lovely. I rest my
head back with my eyes closed to take it all in, letting the heat wash over
me. I stay like that for a long moment. I’m almost too afraid to open my
eyes because this moment feels surreal and yet so perfectly natural. It’s like
a preview into my future—a future I know isn’t an option.
“What time is it?” I ask, knowing there isn’t an answer I’m going to
like.
“Regretting our twenty-four-hour agreement?” I can hear his smile, his
cocky hopefulness.
“No, my phone is dead, and time just seems to be moving and stopping
all in the same day. It’s been a little whirly.” I laugh, opening my eyes to his
staring right into me. “Stop looking for a deeper meaning, King.” Even I
can hear the lie woven into my words.
 “But there is one. I can see it.”
“How can you see anything?” I squint because I’m lacking sunglasses,
and I put my hand up to block the sun while I try and deflect.
“Here, baby.” Holding out his glasses across the pristine white-linen
table, he winks, and I take them, giving my eyes immediate reprieve.
“Chivalry isn’t dead.” The waiter delivers our food, serving King first.
“You spoke too soon.” His smile is ironic as he examines his food. He
scoops up the yolk with his toast, then pops it into his mouth. “How’s your
food, gorgeous?”
“Fantastic. I’m embarrassed to be inhaling my crepes so quickly, but it’s
so good. I’ve been wanting to try this place out but haven’t gotten around to
it…” My voice trails off at the end. I don’t want to talk about my old life.
The life I had pre-weekend.
“Why?” His forehead wrinkles, fork held midair. I love/hate that he’s so
perceptive.
“Well, for one I live far from the city, which I hate because work is all
consuming lately.” I hated the house Nick chose to rent when we moved in
together—so suburban, so removed from all the damn fun.
“Tell me what you do.”
“Am I going to have to do all the work? Sheesh. I work for a company
that specializes in social media marketing and branding.” I love my job, I
love that I work with my best friend, and I love the fast pace of it all.
“Gorgeous and smart.” I wink as a thank-you for the compliment and
nab a grape from his plate. Placing it into my mouth, I savor the crisp
flavor. King just watches my face and then calls the waiter. “Bring a bowl
of grapes for the lady.”
“Yes, sir, right away.”
Looking down, I notice only two more grapes on his plate, and I’m
embarrassed. Did I misstep? Did I fall short on my manners? My eyes
search his. I hate this feeling like I’ve done something wrong, misjudged.
This doubt is too familiar; my baggage seems to be tied to my psyche like a
weight pulling me under. How have I walked into another situation like this,
another man embarrassed by me? I hate that my mind is even going there.
The scent of my own weakness makes me want to gag on the damn grape,
but I can’t make my tiny panic-monster stop growing. I can feel it taking
over all the rational thoughts and finding comfort in my insecurities. How
easily I fall back into routine.
 “Sorry, I didn’t realize tak—”
The waiter returns with the bowl and sets it in front of me before I
finish. I can feel the burn in my eyes, and I’m damn glad I’m wearing
sunglasses. Although I know I have nothing to be embarrassed by, eating
off a lover’s plate is as normal as it gets, but I can’t stop second-guessing…
This is why I can’t do whatever this is with him—this is why. I open my
mouth to finish my sentence when he reaches over the table and takes the
bowl, emptying it on his plate.
“Are you going to have some more?” He smiles and continues eating,
giving me a wink.
I’m not prepared for him. Not even a little. He’s going to annihilate my
heart.
“Yes, I think I am.” I beam, popping another into my mouth. His words
from earlier whisper themselves into my ear: “One who’s forgotten all the
power she holds.” Goddamn him for being right.

We chat and eat until my belly is full of grapes off his plate and he has eaten
more pancakes than one person should ever eat. Signaling for the waiter,
King tells him, I assume, to bring the check.
“Ready, gorgeous?”
“Are we dining and dashing? I don’t think I wore the right shoes for
that.”
“Funny. I was letting him know to call my car. I own this restaurant.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. How do you think you were able to order breakfast at two in
the afternoon?” His smirk is arrogant but fucking adorable. I hadn’t thought
about it. I was so caught up in my conversation with King that when he
asked what I was craving and I said crepes, I assumed he just knew the
menu well as he ordered for me.
Laughter pops out, and then I clamp my mouth shut. “Wait, are you
serious? Tell me what you do, King.”
“I work hard.” He guides me out of the restaurant, ever the gentleman.
 “Ha-ha. Spill,” I joke as we walk to the car.
“I own the club we were at last night, this restaurant, and a few other
projects…not much but enough.”
I spot the driver waiting at the car door, but King nods toward him, and
George immediately moves from the door and rounds the hood to take the
driver’s seat.
“Oh, yeah, not much. Aren’t you the one who said not to downplay
yourself?” I reach for the car door as he brushes my hand away, opening it
for me.
“Glad you got the message.” He winks before shutting the door.
As he climbs in, I smile. I can’t help it. I’m happy, genuinely happy.
“So, what now?”
“I thought you might want to go back to your room and grab a change
of clothes. I have to pop into the city to sign some paperwork, and I thought
I could have you for dinner and then we turn into pumpkins unless I’ve
changed your mind?”
“Have me for dinner? So formal, and I’m offended you think I’m that
easy. Some crepes and fruit aren’t gonna do it, buddy.” But even my joke
feels sour on my tongue. “I would love to change, and I would also love
dinner.”
“You misunderstand—I’m going to have you for dinner. As in your
pussy. We can eat food too.”
“Jesus Christ, King.” My stupid mouth won’t stop smiling.
I’m met with a wink as he looks to the driver. “Where are you staying?”
I give King the name of my hotel and sit back in the car seat. He’s up to
something, but the thrill of what’s to come is enough to make me want to
play his little game. The closer we come to the hotel, the more nervous I
become. My real life with King is intersecting with my old life with Nick,
and I can feel some kind of inevitable combustion coming. I’m downtown,
only a mile from where I work. If I were to be seen by anyone I know, the
news of what I’m doing would get back to Nick at hyper speed. I don’t want
to hurt him, but I’m not giving up the time I have left with King.
When we arrive, I’m beyond nervous, and I know King senses it. “Let
me walk you to your room.”
“No! Are you crazy? I’m having an illicit affair, for all intents and
purposes. Doesn’t matter that I ended things with him; this is still rude and
hurtful. I won’t do that. That speaks to who I am.”
 “You are amazing. He doesn’t deserve your kindness. It makes me hate
him more that you give it to him.”
“Stay here, behind tinted windows. I’ll kill you…”
“Fine. I have some emails to answer. Go do what you need to do and
meet me back here, but make it quick. I’m impatient.”
I roll my eyes at him and reach for the door, turning back to threaten
him within an inch of his life to stay in the car. Closing my door behind me,
I hurry my ass through my walk of shame to my room and let out a relieved
breath when I finally make it. I plug my phone into the charger, then start
disrobing to take a shower when my room phone rings. This man is
something else; I swear he is so impatient.
“Yes.” My voice is harsh and playfully irritated.
“Drew.” The familiar voice on the other end sounds relieved.
“Nick?”
“Yeah, are you expecting someone else? What the fuck, you haven’t
answered your phone all day. Tina said she hadn’t spoken with you all day
either.”
Sitting down, I rub my hands down my thighs, feeling confused by his
call but shameful.
“I’m sorry, Nick. I went to the club with them, but they left without me,
so I came back to the room and turned off my phone. I must have just
forgotten to turn it back on.” I hate compounding my lies, but this
conversation isn’t for over the phone. I don’t owe him, but I don’t want
anyone to get the wrong idea.
“It’s after three in the afternoon. You forgot? Oh, and I heard all about
the club—you couldn’t have tried and talked them out of going to a sex
club? Jesus, Drew, what were you thinking? I feel like I don’t even know
you. After your dramatics the other day, I was worried you’d be
inappropriate, but this is a whole new level. You should have been the voice
of reason.”
“Excuse me, how is that any of my business to do? She is a grown
woman, remember? Only ten years younger. I’d be a huge bitch to judge her
maturity level based on her decisions…remember?”
“I thought I knew you, Drew. Guess I was wrong about you all this
time. I should’ve let that creep fuck you when we met.”
“You are a bastard, Nick, and you don’t fucking know me. You never
took the time; you’ve been too busy trying to mold me into someone
acceptable. I’m fine as I am, Nick, just fucking fine, but I was so caught up
in your goddamn charm, and I believed you every time you told me I was
lacking, because even though I knew deep down I wasn’t… I was afraid.
Afraid I would turn out like my mom and dad. Alone with fucked priorities.
Well, I’m not afraid anymore. I’m a badass VP, I’m successful, really
fucking aware of your bullshit, and just so you know, I like to eat grapes off
plates. So there.”
“What the fuck do grapes have to do with anything? I see you haven’t
taken any of the weekend to remove the chip off your shoulder. Do you
really have to speak like that? I guess you can’t take the girl from the
hood…”
Enraged, I stand, clenching my hands into fists. “I’m from the goddamn
Bay Area in California! It’s not the hood, you dick! You know what, Nick?
I don’t need this shit…I’m done. We’re done, remember?”
“Stop being dramatic.”
“Ha, yeah, okay, see ya, Nick.” Hanging up never felt so freeing.
Whether he believes me or not, I know my truth, and the truth is that Nick
and I are old news.

OceanofPDF.com
HALF AN HOUR LATER, I’VE showered, changed, and applied a bit of makeup,
and I stand looking in the mirror, curious as to when I’m going to start to
feel sad. It’s normal to feel sad, even when you’re the one that ended things,
but I don’t. I just feel a huge weight lifted from my shoulders, relief…I feel
relief. My relationship with Nick has been exhausting. I thought I wanted to
be taken care of, but that was the problem: my entire being fought the
process. I don’t want to be treated like a project; I just want someone to care
for me, in all ways…not take care as if I’m a child, and I certainly don’t
want the cruelty of his punishments.
Gripping the counter, I pull forward and shove off. I need to get going,
or I’m going to have a whole different pain in the ass knocking at my door.
I think I may have jinxed myself because I’m jolted from my thoughts as
loud banging reverberates through the room. He’s like a bull in a china
shop.
I open the heavy steel door with a raised eyebrow, one I hope
complements my sarcasm. “I could barely hear you, you knock so
gingerly…like a little girl.” His smile drops when he looks me in the eyes.
“What’s with your face?”
“What the hell does that mean?” I smooth my hand up my cheekbone.
 “What happened?” He puts both hands on my waist and pushes me back
into the room, and that’s when the tears well up. Damn him and his spot-on
intuition.
“Nick called. I’m fine.”
His face is tender as he wipes my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you aren’t,” I laugh through my tears.
“Yes, I am.” Reaching for my hand, he pulls us both to the edge of the
bed and sits. “Listen, it’s no secret I’m happy you’re free, but I never saw
him as competition. I’m sorry, not that you’re single, but I am sorry you
endured the sadness for so long. I’m sorry he didn’t fight for you so that
you could at least have had the consolation that he loved you. I’m sorry that
you have to grieve a relationship that took so much from you but gave
nothing back.”
I kiss his cheek. He’s powerful and demanding, but the fact that he
would guard my heart while I mourn something with the potential to stand
in his way makes him divine.
“King, do you mind if we skip our dinner out and order room service?
I’m suddenly not feeling so celebratory anymore. I would love to just hang
here, with you, if that’s all right?”
“Do you know my favorite part of that sentence? The ‘with me’ part. I
fully expected to be kicked out, but you want me here…”
“I know. Don’t gloat; it’s unbecoming. I’m as surprised as you are.
Don’t ruin this…” I squint in his direction as a warning, only to be
contradicted by my smile.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Toeing off his shoes, he reaches into his
pocket and pulls out his phone and wallet, then sets them on the table.
Scooting to the top of the bed, he pats the space next to him. I start to join
him when I remember something he said earlier.
“Oh wait, what about your papers? The ones you had to sign…”
“Throw me my phone, please. I’ll reschedule.” It’s not said as a
question, which is how most people would deliver it, waiting for validation
from the other. No, he’s resolute, and the sureness in his voice brings me
comfort. I needed someone to do that for me tonight. It’s such a small
gesture like the fact that he ends more of his sentences with “please,” but
his evil plan seems to be working. I hand him the phone and kick off my
own shoes.
“Thank you, King.” Thank you for more than you could even imagine.
 “Of course, beautiful.” His fingers work over the keys quickly, and he
tosses the phone back my way and I set it on the nightstand. I crawl up and
nestle into his side as he fiddles with the remote, making the television
come to life.
“This is the real test. What to watch: romantic comedy or action?”
“Horror.” I scrunch my nose to amplify my dislike of the two genres.
“Soul mate.” Leaning in, he kisses my forehead, squeezing me so tight
that I’m cocooned by this amazing man. I’m not sure when it happens, but I
start to fall asleep, comforted by a man I met not even twenty-four hours
ago, but one I can’t imagine being without. Right on time, my baggage
parks itself next to my heart. It’s the whirlwind of the affair; it’s not real. I
can’t lose myself again.
My sleep is interrupted by the clangs of metal, and I open my eyes to
see King unplating a variety of food.
“Good evening, beautiful. I was starting to think you were going to
sleep through the night.”
Rubbing my eyes to acclimate to my surroundings, I see King move to a
second room-service table. “Did you order everything?”
“Well, kind of…I didn’t know what your favorites would be, and I
wanted you happy. I got sliders and salad, some more pizza?”
I shake my head no.
“Ah well, I have a delicious steak, cooked to perfection at the rarest
degree…I’m hoping you say no to that.”
He grins and grabs another dish topper.
“And the meal that always makes me happy when I’m down—dun dun
nuh nuhhhh—grilled cheese and tomato soup.”
Smiling back at him, I nod yes, and he serves me on the bed.
“Thank you. You have to be doing this because you’re genuinely nice
because you already got into my pants, soooo…”
“I told you I would break down every wall.” He leans in
conspiratorially. “There’s no escaping now I’ve gotten you grilled cheese.”
“Clearly, your master plan in action. Here’s the thing: I’m not sad. I
mean, I’m sad that we ended poorly, but he wasn’t the one and I definitely
wasn’t his one, so things don’t usually end well in those situations. I was
just overwhelmed earlier by the myriad of emotions coming at me. So many
emotions. So, I had to feel it, and now I can move on. Do I sound like a
nut?” I focus my attention on the grilled cheese.
 King knifes off a piece of his steak and chews, nodding at me before
swallowing. “No, you don’t sound crazy at all. The opposite really. Let’s
never talk about him again.” He lifts his wineglass to cheers the idea.
“Because I get a real desire to fit him for cement boots.”
My eyes fill with tears as I choke on my sandwich. “Can you not,
please.” I wash the rest of what’s left in my mouth down with water. King
just winks in my direction and keeps attacking his meat.
“Tell me about your childhood, with your brother.” Looking over, I pick
a piece of asparagus off his plate. His smile is my real treat as he forks the
rest to the top of his plate, making it closer for me to grab.
“My mom and dad were an epic love story, the kind of love that only
comes along once, and that’s if you’re really lucky. We had a great life; my
parents had their own business, real estate, all the properties were sold off
when they passed, and the money was put into a trust for us. The hitch was
we didn’t have access until eighteen, so you can imagine the struggle. Luca
and I were young and angry, but I kept his nose clean while I did what I had
to until I turned eighteen. Every day, I try to make all of this worthwhile
because if it fails, it’s like I’ve failed them all.”
“No pressure.” I smile, acknowledging how hard it must have been for
him. “Your parents sound like they made a real impression. It’s nice to have
that kind of an example for love. My folks fought forever until they
ultimately divorced. My mother had to struggle until she got her footing.
She left him and all his money—she always said that all the money in the
world could never buy you out of feeling alone. I think the idea of being
alone and struggling always stuck with me, and seeing that helped my
success, I think.”
“That’s unfortunate for your mother. Were you still at home?” He juts
out his chin toward his plate and puts his fork down.
Stealing more asparagus, I grin.
“No, but I remember feeling shocked, really rocked to my core. I was an
adult, working in the world, but I felt lost for a bit. Strange?”
“No, I get that. When my parents died, it felt like in the movies when
you see the astronaut lose his grip on the rocket and float out into space.
That’s what my life felt like for a very long time…untethered.” Shaking his
head, he leans back in his seat. “I cannot remember the last time I had a
conversation like this. There is something about you, Drew. Every time I
look at you, I want to tell you every secret and every thought I’ve ever had.
What kind of voodoo are you doing on me?”
I don’t know how to answer him. I know I feel safe and sane with him
no matter how crazy our beginning. I know that my feelings are being
etched in the fiber of my being, and I’m scared to death I won’t be able to
recover from this loss. I know that when he speaks, he is the only voice I
want to hear, and when he touches me, I could die and still feel sated. I
don’t believe in love at first sight, but whatever is happening, the twenty-
four hours we’ve spent together feels like what my lifetime should be. I
don’t know what to say to him, so I kiss him and keep kissing him until I
forget that the clock reads 10:59 p.m.
Pulling away, I look into his soulful hazel eyes and hope I’m strong
enough for what comes next.
“Hey.”
“Hey back.”
“I want to take you someplace. Will you come?” Looking at the clock,
he chews his bottom lip. “Even though it will technically be our second
date?”
“Yes, I’ll come.” I rest my hands on his shoulders, then let them run
down to his chest.
“Come on.” King grabs his phone and punches a text out as he puts on
his shoes. “Car’s waiting, gorgeous. Let’s get a move on.”
Scooting my chair back, I look for my shoes. “Where are we going?”
Fumbling to put on my sandals, I laugh and right myself back up to grab my
clutch.
“You’ll see.” His demeanor is so playful that I imagine this is the card
he’s been hiding up his sleeve. Rushing us down the hallway, he walks
behind me with both hands on my waist, making my steps keep pace with
his.
“Jesus, I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” My forehead feels clammy as
we enter the elevators.
“Forgive me, but we need to rush to make this surprise possible.”
“So, it is a surprise!” I’m actually giddy.
“Yes, but I know you’ve been onto me…” He laughs as he stabs the
button repeatedly.
“A little, but I don’t know what we are doing. You should know I
absolutely hate surprises.” Looking away, I hope he doesn’t see through me.
 “You hate them as much as telling the truth, little liar.”
Damn.
“You can’t fault a girl for trying.” I shrug unapologetically.
“Fair.” The elevator doors open, and I’m thrust into a race I don’t want
to run, making me wonder what we must look like. We near the car, and
King actually jogs up to the door to open it for me.
“Thank you.” I shake my head and laugh, catching my breath.
As the car drives us to our destination, we talk between touches and
kisses. This feels like a silent acknowledgment of our shared desire. He tells
me about his niece, Ella, who is only three months old and cute as a button.
She seems to have the King men in the palm of her hand. I tell him about
my first crush in third grade and how I could never look at another worm
again after I ate one so that Tommy Green would be my boyfriend—joke
was on me.
“You actually ate the worm? Whole? From the ground, just to be his
girlfriend?” His laughter highlights the insanity of my story.
“Yes, I was committed. It was love at first sight. I had to be all in.”
“I like a girl who knows what she wants…” His eyes are questioning,
reflecting the duality of the remark.
Am I a girl who knows what she wants? Because last week I had a live-
in boyfriend that treated me like shit, and today I have a man who has been
trying to convince me to give it a go. But in all this time, I haven’t given
much thought to what I want past the idea of tonight. Fantasizing and real
consideration are warring in my head, so I look away before he reads me
too well, and I try and focus on the blur outside the window.
This night feels like a new beginning, but this time it’s on my terms and
with someone who respects me and my needs. But I could just be seeing
what I want to see so that the fantasy isn’t ruined. I barely know him, and
we met at a fucking sex club. What am I doing? The panic in my mind
starts to bleed out and seep into all the right crevices, feeding the doubt.
What the hell do I want? I want King, but I know without a doubt that
my head isn’t in the right place. I need space, time to think everything
through.
I feel King reach out and squeeze my hand, but I don’t look over at him.
I don’t want to ruin the last moments I have with him. I feel betrayed by
myself. I’m not ready for him—I don’t know if I’ll ever be—but I do know
that if I spend any more time with this man, I will happily bend and contort
until I am completely unrecognizable, and whoever I am, whoever I want to
be, will be nothing but a memory again.
We pull up to our destination, on the edge of downtown. I look outside
to realize we are at a private airport/heliport. Slowing to the building with
wide-set glass doors, I can see the inside looks like some kind of waiting
room. In the distance, I see three small jets and a couple of helicopters.
“What’s this?” I motion to the window for an explanation, I’m surprised
and confused.
“Looks like an airport.” Leaning in, he starts kissing my neck.
“Stop being wry. Why are we here?” My mind is numb.
“Because I’m taking you away. Away from the world. Just you and me.
I want you as mine, Drew,” he mumbles against my neck before he moves
to the car door.
Pulling back, I look down to my purse and out to the window. I can hear
him talking, but I can’t focus on the words.
“Hold tight, gorgeous. I’m going to check us in.”
I feel like I’m on a delay. What the hell is happening? I can’t even
process this. I can’t just pick up and go with him. I am being wooed and
romanced by this man, who has undoubtedly swept me off my goddamn
feet from the minute we met. He’s like a life preserver while I was
drowning, but I’ll pull him under. I can’t give him all of me, only a version
I hope to become.
I’m still lost, from Nick…from me. That’s what happens when you
forget to value yourself: you become overlooked, and the longer that lasts,
the less likely you are to ever find your shine. But now King wants to put a
spotlight on me, which will only highlight all the cracks. I don’t want him
to see the weak spots.
I have to go.
Getting out of the car, I walk around the back as King bounds toward
me with that gleaming smile. He looks like a man in love, but he can’t be in
love with me. It’s just lust.
Holding up one hand to stop him and looking down at the ground, I
can’t believe I’m about to throw away something I want so badly. “I can’t
go away with you.” The quiver in my voice gives away my emotion.
“What are you talking about?” He steps back as if space and
comprehension are intimately tied together. “Nervous flyer?” He doesn’t
laugh.
 I force myself to look him in the eyes, but as I do, I already see
recognition. He understands I’m about to run. Like recognizes like. We are
two in one, he and I.
“I mean exactly what I said. I can’t go—I have a job and a life.”
“Call in.” He crosses his arms, and I can see his jaw set. His posture is
as immovable as his suggestion.
“No.”
“Choose us, Drew, trust us…” Something about what he says triggers
my anger. I’ve spent far too long choosing to make myself second to
another. I won’t ever do that again.
Throwing my hands up in the air, I begin to pace. “That’s right. Because
my job is unimportant, right? Only your time matters. I’m just the armpiece
—I can call in and just be at your beck and call all week…” Even I know
that’s not him, but my brain is on overload and I hate myself, so I hate King
too.
“I never said that. I’m not him. I thought I made my intentions clear.
You know this,” he says, motioning between us. “This is something else.
You can say whatever you want because I see that I scare the hell out of
you. But baby, you know what? You scare the hell out of me too, but I
believe enough for the both of us. You know I am nothing like that jackass
Nick.”
God, please make him stop. I won’t be able to walk away.
“Oh, but you could be a cleverer version? What do you even know
about me? I could be a horrible person…all you know is that you like to
fuck me. How can that be anything more than what this is.” I don’t mean it,
but words are coming out and I can’t stop, and judging by the look on his
face, I’ve successfully pushed him far enough away.
“Is that what you think? You think I just like to fuck you? I told you
things tonight I’ve never said aloud. I let myself want you, knowing I may
not get you. I want for nothing.” King closes the distance I put between us
with my pacing, looking down at me.
“Do you know what you’re doing Drew? Do you really know? Because
I’ve never been more sure. It doesn’t matter that I just met you; it feels like
I’ve spent lifetimes with you. I want to take everything, every damn piece
of yourself you gave up and help you put them back together.” Cupping his
hands around my face, he tilts it up to look directly into my eyes. “Because
you may not see her, but I do…and I want to dedicate all my time to
worshipping that woman.”
My cheek feels wet from my tears, and I can’t bear to stand and cry in
front of him, so I push his hands away and turn to walk down the street the
car drove down.
His voice cuts through the air. “I won’t make this easy for you, not
when I know better…”
“I’m not the girl you think I am. I’m not that girl at all. I need time and
you deserve someone who is sure.” I can’t turn around. I can’t see his
reaction to my words because I’m a coward and I don’t think I could hold
that image on my heart without it breaking in two.
I hear his steps coming toward me. I expect him to speak, but it’s not
King’s voice that calls my attention. I turn toward the voice, and it’s
attached to a man who is coming from the building with a clipboard in
hand. My gaze follows him, guiding my body all the way to King.
“Mr. King, I’m sorry to interrupt, I have some paperwork for you to—”
“No.” King’s eyes are locked to mine, hard and impassive, never
wavering.
“I apologize, but without a signature I’m unable to—”
“Show yourself inside, and don’t fucking make me repeat myself.” I
look at the poor man, horrified at King’s behavior but also relieved to have
him be told to leave.
The man nods in acknowledgment of his dismissal, turns, and leaves the
way he came.
“You can’t treat people that way, King!” My words are met with his
raised eyebrows. He doesn’t seem to agree.
“I’ll treat anyone however the hell I want. This”—his voice raises as he
grabs his heart—“this is only for you. Fuck the rest of the world. Nobody
gets this but you, don’t you understand, Drew?”
I can’t stop the tears if I wanted to. “It’s just lust… and the freedom of
living in some fantasy for the last twenty-four hours.”
“Bullshit.”
I know.
“What do you want from me?” Crying, I wipe my eyes as he closes the
distance, grabbing my hands and kissing the inside of my wrists.
“Choose me,” he whispers into them like he’s giving me his secret.
 I could choose him; I could run away and probably fall deeper in love,
but what happens in a month or two when life gets real and he starts to see
all those cracks? Today he wants to fix me, but I swore I would never be
another project again.
“I won’t choose you over myself. This whole thing ends bloody for both
of us.”
He drops my hands, raking his hands through his hair, and turns back to
the car.
“That’s just fear.”
It’s true.
“You’re right. I’m scared of losing myself again.”
I don’t trust myself.
He puts both hands on the back window of the SUV, and his head hangs
low between them. “You breathed life into me—how am I supposed to just
let that go? All I want is to take care of you.”
His words urge the waiting panic to explode to the top. I throw my face
to the sky, and my voice is a scream just as an engine roars. “I don’t want to
be taken care of!” My hands are fisted so hard that they hurt as I release
them. My breath is still fast, my eyes wide with the shock from my
outburst, and I’m embarrassed. I have to get out of here. Away.
He isn’t Nick. But I’m still not me.
My feet start taking slow steps backward, retreating. If I stay a minute
longer, I’d do anything to take that look out of those eyes, but maybe this is
my penance for my sin. My sin being lust.
“Don’t, Drew.” His words aren’t demanding but a plea. “If you walk, I
won’t chase you, and I won’t forgive you.” It’s his last effort to appeal to
my heart.
“I can’t do this, Dominic. I can’t…” I don’t want to see his face. I don’t
want to know the hurt I’ve caused him. I turn and run toward the street
knowing I can grab a cab to take me home. The sound of shattered glass has
me pick up the pace because I know he’s shattered the window of the car. I
wave my arm frantically, and a yellow cab pulls to a stop. The door handle
feels like an escape, so I thrust myself into the car.
“Where to, lady?”
“Anywhere. Just go…”

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I’VE BEEN HOME FOR THREE days. Three days for my decision to walk away
from Dominic to sink in. Three days to justify it and three days to regret it. I
just wanted some time to feel…well, everything. I wanted to be clear. I
went from being caught up in saving my relationship with Nick to feeling
overwhelmed by Dominic. I just needed a breath. I don’t regret needing the
time; I just wish I could have articulated what I needed better. Basically, I
wish I hadn’t been so damn stubborn and just asked him to wait.
I walked into this home, front door adorned with what I think is a note
full of regret from Nick, but I threw it away. There is nothing left to be said.
We’ve used up all the hateful words, twisting them like knives in each
other’s backs. I can’t do it anymore. My brand-new backbone is
comfortable in my skin, and it stands far too tall for the likes of Nick. He is
who he is, but he isn’t who I want. I deserve someone who loves me for
who I am, not in spite of it.
I know if I stay with him, we’ll settle right back into our twisted trade:
my self-respect for his ego. He always sees his control as help, but help can
only be just that, when requested. I never asked for his guidance in what I
should wear, drink, how loud I should laugh or how low to play down my
job title when we hung out with his friends. I bent to all of it because it was
a gradual process of degradation. It was asked with sweetness and cajoling
when he played the lover but lobbed at me as a weapon when he played the
victim.
Nick isn’t my soul mate or my prince. Forget all of that—I want my
equal.
I want Dominic King. Now I just have to get my shit together and hope
he still wants that too.

Nick’s been gone these few days on business, which has been a godsend.
I’ve been able to pack and move all my belongings out and back into my
old apartment. Keeping it was the best decision I ever made. Although,
thinking back, it was also one of our biggest fights.
I look around the room, saddened by all the moments we wasted by our
stupidity toward love, but now I’ve felt what’s it like to be caught up,
tangled in another person. I can’t stay even if I tried, not when the promise
of heaven was laid at my feet. What I thought was lust has transformed and
nailed me right between the eyes. I know it isn’t love, but I also know it’s
not just my body that aches from his absence.
Checking my watch again, I can feel my anxiety rear its ugly head. I’m
hoping to get everything squared away before he comes back. I’d like to
avoid seeing him. We haven’t spoken since the weekend, and he has to
know this doesn’t all end with me barefoot in the kitchen. When I scanned
the note left for me, before I stupidly threw it out, I saw he was coming
back today, late afternoon.
Pacing the room, I check for anything I’ve overlooked. Nothing stands
out, so I walk to my purse to grab my cell and type out a text to Gretchen.
Me: I’m dying a very slow death over here. Can a person actually
sweat to death?
Gretchen: Yes. You need botox.
Me: No, I need a drink.
Gretchen: Why are you sweating?
 Me: Nerves. I don’t want to see him but having the face to face is the
only option.
Gretchen: Truth. You just have to rip the band-aid. He’s the asshole,
he should do all the sweating.
Me: I just want this part to go smooth.
Gretchen: Then don’t tell him you’ve moved on to greener dick
pastures.
Me: You have problems.
Gretchen: You want me to come over? I can be your hype man.
Me: No, but love you…shit that’s the door.
Shoving my cell back in my purse, I sit down and take a calming breath.
The keys jingle in the lock as Nick opens it, pulling in his black carry-on.
Stopping in the doorway, his head bobs back slightly, confusion marred on
his face.
“Hey,” I say, seated on the couch.
“Why are you here?” His irritation is apparent. How can he go from
love letter to hatred three days later?
“I know I’m bombarding you right as you get home, but we should talk.
I figured it was better to hash this out in person. You don’t agree?” He takes
a deep breath and continues into the house, heading straight to the bedroom.
“I’m going to change” is all he says as an acknowledgment to my words
before leaving me alone. This is not starting out well.
Ten minutes later he comes out to join me in the living room, changed
into basketball shorts and a T-shirt. Sitting in the chair across from me, he
looks down at his hands. The silence is deafening. I had a whole big plan,
but I didn’t plan on Nick being sad about this, if that’s what he is. I’m
hoping we can end this and walk away without hard feelings. As I waited,
my attitude shifted away from just friends to solid enemies, but his change
in demeanor is definitely dampening my “fuck off” monologue.
After another few moments, I decide to speak to break the ice. “Look,
Nick, I think we both felt this coming, but I never wanted to hurt you.
We’ve both made mistakes—”
Cutting me off, he holds a hand up to stop me. “Did you even read my
letter?”
Shit. I should have at least read it. I feel like a jerk, but I’m not going to
lie. “No. I truly didn’t want to risk it being something vile. I just want to
walk away amicably. We’ve said a lot of things I hope we can bury. I just
hope you can understand.”
“You think I would make this hard on you?” His laugh throws me off
guard. “Drew, if you want to leave, then get the fuck out already. I’m not
sad, but I see someone thinks very highly of herself. That was one of the
many reasons I’m done with you. If you read the letter, this wouldn’t be a
surprise.” Turning his head, he relaxed back into his chair.
“Wow, okay…you’re done? You? Whatever. I’m sorry for giving you
more credit than you’re due.” I stand, still hoping for a more reasonable
answer.
Shrugging, he grabs the remote and turns the television on, effectively
cutting off our conversation. I feel the fury, but it’s controlled by another
feeling—a feeling of recognition. I see him for who he is. I’m onto what
he’s doing, and for the first time in the year since we met, it won’t work. I
won’t dive into insecurities and beg for him. He’s an asshole and not my
problem anymore. The thought makes me smile until he speaks.
“If you are going to just stand there, then why don’t you make yourself
useful? You always did give good head.”
Now I can be furious. I lunge forward and stick my finger right in his
chest.
“Fuck you. You are such a pathetic piece of shit. Never speak to me.
Never utter my goddamn name. I’m too good for your filthy low-class
mouth.” My voice is sharp and purposeful, accentuating my fury and
throwing my words like daggers. I slap the remote from his hand and it
ricochets off the floor, making a crack and causing Nick to jump, fear in his
eyes. “You were lucky I gave you a year of my time, you prick. Stay the
hell away from me for the rest of your wasted life.”
Turning on my heels, I walk straight out the door, but I don’t slam it
shut. I leave it open so he can do it himself.

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OceanofPDF.com
One Month Later

THIS DAY HAS BEEN HELL. Seems everyone decided to save up their stupidity
and unleash it all at once. I’ve been putting out fires left and right, causing
my mood to plummet. If I could fire everyone and just start again, I would.
Even though I know it’s mostly my permanent shit mood that’s stinking up
this office. I can’t remember a time in the last few months when I’ve been
in a good mood.
Taking in a deep breath and closing my eyes, I try to drown out my
nagging thoughts, but my phone buzzes, jump-starting my irritation all over
again. What now?
“Ms. Matthews, you have Ms. Andrews on line one for you.”
“Put her through, Boyd,” My tone is clipped.
I hold while my assistant patches the call through, strumming my well-
manicured fingernails on my desk.
“Hey, you,” my best friend’s voice singsongs from the receiver.
“Gretchen, what’s up?”
“Gretchen? So formal—and here I almost didn’t call for fear you would
find a way to make me cry today.” Her sarcasm is ripe with humor.
 “Oh Jesus. Kevin needs to pull his head out of his ass. If he didn’t make
so many mistakes, I wouldn’t need to remind him of the long line of people
that want his position. He’s too sensitive…”
Her laughter cuts off my rant. “Drew, you’re a tyrant, you know that?
And furthermore…” Her words become tangled between laughs mixed with
a snort or two.
“I can’t understand you through your tears of laughter. I’m so pleased
my shit day is so entertaining, but I’m unamused.” Rolling my eyes, I try
like hell to hold steadfast to my irritation, but her amusement finally makes
me break and I join in. “You’re so irritating.” I wipe the tears that have
filled my eyes from laughing so hard.
“But you love me, and I have a present for you.”
“I’m listening.”
“I heard through the grapevine your ex is unemployed.” Karma is a
bitch.
“That’s not a gift. I don’t care about that douche.” I’ve moved on. Over
this month I saw my mistakes, and all that reflection only deepened my
resolve to own my power. Never again will I let myself become
unimportant.
“That was a test. I mean the facts are true, but I wanted to check
because…”
“My love is beginning to wane if this is going where I think it is.”
“Listen to what I’m going to say.” Her voice becomes more serious.
“You need to either start eating all your damn feelings or…” I know exactly
where this is going.
“Shut up. I know what you’re going to say, Gretch. I’m not in the mood
for the one hundredth lecture on this topic.”
Ignoring me completely, she continues.
“Orrrr go and find the sexy Mr. King and put your lady parts out of their
misery.” As soon as she says it, I growl out a mini scream and bang the
phone down on the desk twice, hoping it hurts her ears.
Putting the receiver back to my ear, I smooth my hand over my desk
and clear my throat. “Gretchen, stop bugging me about this. I told you I will
take care of that little issue when I’m ready. I’m not ready.”
“When’s that?” I hate her.
“When’s what?” I can feel myself walking right into her trap.
 “When are you going to be ready? When your vagina has revirginized?
You had this amazing night and came back all riled up and ready to find
your fucking dream man. Your words, Drew: ‘Dream man.’ And now all
you do is Google search him and obsess. There aren’t enough batteries in
the world.”
“I’ll kill you. I’m actually going to kill you.”
Her laughter starts again. “You’d commit a felony before facing
rejection. Solid choice, friend.” I’m happy we’re on the phone because she
would celebrate her victory if she could see my grin over her accuracy, but
she doesn’t understand the risk.
“That ship has sailed. As much as I bought into the idea he was selling,
I’ve waited too long now. I can’t just email him or call him now. I need to
let it go, and you need to let me. He’s too dangerous.” Dangerous in every
sense of the word. Dominic King could destroy me.
“Bullshit. You can’t push love away because it’s complicated and
messy, Drew.”
Why does she have to know me so well?
“I’m not pushing it away. I’m just postponing it until a more convenient
time. He’s stronger than I am. I’ll get lost in him. Completely fucking lost.”
Sighing, I put my arm on my desk and rest my head on it.
“Ah, okay…so in the meantime, you’re what? Gonna buy some cats and
go to Costco for batteries?” I can hear her nails clicking the keyboard like
some evil gargoyle.
“Cats? Really? Why are we friends? You’re fired.” Sitting up, I bark out
a laugh.
“Yeah, good luck with that one. My work here is done. I’ll just tell HR
you made death threats against me. Listen to me…”
Her phone muffles and I can hear her talking to someone else, though I
can’t make out anything she’s saying. She comes back on the line with a
deep breath. Uh-oh, something’s up.
“Whoa, what’s up?”
“Sorry, Drew, let me ring you back. Fires to put out…”
“Gotcha.” Hanging up, I look down at my desk littered with paperwork
and try to keep my mind from wandering, but it inevitably drifts to her
lecture. She’s right; we both know it, but too much time has passed now.
How the hell do you just call someone and say, “Hey, remember me? I think
we’re meant for each other. Sorry I deserted you and left you standing on an
airstrip.” Even saying it to myself, I know that isn’t the whole truth.
If I know him, like I believe I do, the real problem isn’t going to be that
I waited. The problem is going to be that I hesitated. I know he won’t look
for me; he said as much. He also said he wouldn’t forgive me. I’m scared
he’s telling the truth. My night with him will forever be a ‘once in a
lifetime’ event unless I make the next move, but I’m afraid. I knew him for
twenty-four hours, and I still can’t scrub my mind clean of him after one
month. The future seems dim.
The rest of my afternoon flies by less any more foul-ups, and by the
time my assistant Boyd ducks his head in to say goodbye, I realize the sun
has gone down.
“Thanks, Boyd. Good night.”
“Good night, Ms. Matthews. I’ve updated your calendar, but I
apologize. I requested the information about a morning meeting with Ms.
Andrews, but she told me she would handle it personally.”
“Oh, okay, don’t worry about it. Have a nice night.” She probably wants
to hassle me more over breakfast. At least I can get a mimosa.
Packing up my laptop case, I shoot a quick text to Gretch asking her
about our “meeting” and lean across my desk to turn off my monitors. I
pause as I look at the screen, gnawing at my bottom lip like an addict
because that’s what I am. My fingers hit the keys, and I’m bombarded with
images of the man I’m obsessed with.
Flashes of our night together infiltrate my mind, causing my body to
heat up, and I reach up to pull my hair over my shoulder. Closing my eyes, I
remember that small action when he moved my hair to expose my neck.
The feel of his lips moving against my throat, his words breathed into my
skin, leaving me branded by his lust. Licking my lips slowly, I lay my head
back on my chair and remember the feel of his body and the grip of his
hands against my skin. I can still taste his climax on my lips. Before I know
what I’m doing, my hand begins moving up my thigh, pulling my black silk
skirt with it. Seeing him standing over me, my legs part for him, and I can
almost feel the brush of his fingertips tracing my inner thigh. “Tell me what
your body wants,” he growls. My breath is coming in pants as the
anticipation of his touch clouds my judgment, and I reach for my swollen
center.
 I’m jolted out of my fantasy by a knock at the office door, hitting the
top of my hand on the underside of my desk in the process.
“Shit! Ow—yes, sorry, come in…” My voice is high and shaky.
Boyd peeks around the door again. “Sorry to bother you, erm, but I
forgot to confirm my early leave tomorrow. My mom is having a dinner for
my dad’s retirement.” His face is expectant, as if he’s hoping I remember
whatever the hell he’s talking about. Right now, he could say he was
leaving early to pick blueberries and I wouldn’t care because I’ve never felt
so embarrassed.
Hoping my cheeks aren’t as red as I expect them to be, I keep my tone
clipped. “Sounds fine. No problem.” Putting my head down, I try and keep
the focus on the computer screen. I would rather him think I’m a jerk
instead of realizing I almost just masturbated in my office.
What’s happening? I need an intervention. I’m masturbating to
screenshots of a man that I ran out on. I should be googling a twelve-step
program based on Dominic King instead of indulging in any more fantasies.

“Get the fuck off my back, Luca. I don’t need any more shit from you.” I
hate when he thinks he needs to fix me.
“Yes, you do, Dom. You’ve been an asshole for the last month. I don’t
care what you need to do, but if it takes fucking half of Chicago, I’d help
make that happen. I’m just happy you’re working from home today.
Everyone hates you here.” His laugh makes my eyes roll. He loves being
the favorite.
“Fuck everyone. I happen to like working from home. I get to wear
basketball shorts into my office.” Chuckling, I blow off his comment.
“You’re missing the point, Dom…”
 “Enough. I don’t want to fuck half of Chicago. I have no interest in a
relationship of any kind right now. I’m focused on work.” Work and her. If
he knew just how far down the rabbit hole I’ve fallen, this conversation
would be an intervention.
“I knew it!” I shouldn’t have even thought it.
“Knew what, ya lunatic?” Gripping the receiver, I secretly wish it was
his neck.
“Knew that you are still hung up on her. Admit it: ever since you met
that chick, your head hasn’t been screwed on tight.”
“Don’t call her a chick. She’s a grown woman, and it has nothing to do
with her.” The end.
“Just get one of the guys to track her down.” Already done.
“Life isn’t as simple as that—”
He cuts me off before I can finish. “Wow, I never thought I’d see the
day when Dominic King was afraid of someone.” Nail meet head. Drew
Matthews has me shaking in my boots.
“Fuck off. Are you done, little brother? Can I go back to grown-up
business now?” He hates when I call him the little brother. I love it.
“Little by minutes, you dick. And stop deflecting. I’ve never seen you
hung up on a chick…er, I mean, woman like this before. She must have a
golden pussy.” What the fuck?
“Watch your fucking mouth, or I’ll break your jaw.” I couldn’t be more
serious, and it wouldn’t be the first time Luca and I have gone to blows.
“Holy shit, ladies and gentlemen. Dom is sprung…” Clearly unfazed by
my warning, he laughs louder than necessary.
“Jesus! Luca, I don’t have time for this shit. Can we get back to
business? I have a two-o’clock call that I won’t postpone for love advice
with Dr. Luca King.”
“Wow, interesting that you went right to the word love.” He never stops.
“For fuck’s sake. I’m hanging up.” Slamming my receiver down harder
than necessary, I lean back in my chair and rest my head back, stretching it
from side to side to help relieve the tension and ignore my cell buzzing.
Fuck, why did I have to say love. People don’t fall in love in twenty-four
hours.
I’m sure it’s a text from Luca. His intuition is spot-on—it’s the twin
thing, but he never knows when to give up. We may be identical, but we
couldn’t be more different. But I can’t explain this to him. I made sure he
would have the life our parents wanted for us, but it wasn’t without
sacrifice. I wouldn’t do a damn thing differently, but unlike our faces, our
lives could never be identical. He’s got a wife and a kid and a life I don’t
envy, except when I think about her. With her, all the rules change. It’s the
one thing that scares the shit out of me. It may have only been one night,
but I just can’t seem to shake her hold on me. I fell for a girl I can’t have;
it’s as if I got to see into a crystal ball, a beautiful glimpse into what life
should feel like and be like, and now I can’t go back.
Standing from my mahogany desk, I walk out of my office and into the
kitchen to grab some water. I gulp it down, then place it on the counter. I
absent-mindedly run my hand over the granite countertop, remembering her
sitting and eating a slice of pizza as I spoke about my mother. It was the
first time I’d really spoken about her to anyone outside of my brother, but it
felt natural, normal. That feeling guts me. I wanted her to know my mother,
even if it was in some small way. Drew became important to me in one
miraculous night, and now the memories haunt me.
Shaking my head, I try and remind myself it was just a one-night stand.
Nothing more. I know I’m lying to myself—we had a connection; it was
more than attraction and sex. She walked away and took every ounce of me
with her. I’m bound to this gorgeous woman, and my heart refuses to
fucking let go. I told her I wouldn’t chase her, I wouldn’t go after her if she
ran, but now I wish I had because I’ve been sitting here waiting to be found.
She makes me weak, vulnerable, and those are two feelings I am not
acquainted with. I hate the stench of need. I’m like a lust-starved Oliver
Twist, and she’s what I want more of.
So, I sit here in my empty house and pay people to bring me
information on her while I figure out what the fuck to do about this, about
her. Fuck, my life is spiraling. I need a drink. Scratch that—I need a priest
to exorcize Drew Matthews from my body. I need to pack my shit and go
back home, just let her go, let go of her smart-ass attitude and sharp-as-a-
knife wit. Let go of her luscious mouth and all the dirty things I did to it.
Let go of the memory of her nails down my back etched into my mind
while her legs wrapped themselves around my body. Fuck!
Pushing off the counter, I grab another bottle of water and head toward
my home gym. Today feels like a punching-bag day. I find myself there a
lot lately; a man can only jack off so much.
With every hit of the bag, I feel my frustration raise. She was more.
 Smack, smack smack. More than sex.
Thrusting upward, I barrel into the bag, making it jump. She was a
promise.
My head drips sweat, and my muscles want to give in, but I unleash all
my fury out onto the bag until I’m spent, huddled over and breathless. She
became a broken promise when she hesitated.
I was all in. I gave myself to her, and I don’t do that, ever. It doesn’t
matter that I knew her for twenty-four hours; I touched an angel and fell
from heaven. I feel like the devil because now all I want is to erase her, but
I refuse to forget. I don’t know how to walk away, but I won’t beg. I want
her bound at my feet as payment for her faithless decision.
I want to hate her, but what I hate is how much of me belongs to her.
Reaching my arm over my shoulder, I grip the back of my shirt and
draw it over my head, using it to wipe my forehead before tossing it aside. I
want to punish her, punish her for walking away, so I hit the bag harder and
harder until I can feel the bruising under my wrapped hands start to throb,
giving me something to focus on instead of the bruise to my heart. Fuck,
I’m weak for this woman.

OceanofPDF.com
LYING AWAKE IN MY BED after leaving the office, I’m nowhere near being
tired. Rolling to my side, I throw off my sheet and sit upright in my king
bed. I’m so thankful to be back in my place after moving in with Nick. I
lean over and grab my cell off the bedside table and type out a quick text to
Gretchen to confirm my suspicions for our “meeting” tomorrow.
Me: Hey—by meeting do you mean brunch and mimosas?
Gretchen: Duh, we’ve earned it. This week has been hell and I think
we can have a secret meeting without anyone suspecting we are just
being alcoholic slackers.
Me: Agreed. Where?
I stand as the bubbles pop up and go away and then pop up again. If she
is winging it, I’m going to be irritated. Trying to get a reservation is
impossible same day in this city. I start to pace, waiting for her response.
Gretchen: I’ll pick you up on the way.
Me: Do you have a reservation? Because you know it’s impossible to
snag a good place tomorrow.
Gretchen: Yes mom, I do. Go use your batteries.
Me: Asshole… Listen, I have to go in for a few things, so pick me up
at our building, downstairs. Just text me when you’re ten out.
 Gretchen: Yep, got it.
My whole body is revved up, and I need to expend this energy. My eyes
drift over to my laptop, and I squeeze them shut. No way in hell. I’m
breaking this little habit of mine. Instead, I throw on my workout clothes
and some sneakers and head out to a late-night gym to run off my sexual
frustration.
When I get back home, it’s a little past ten and I’m spent. I don’t even
bother to shower. Instead, I crawl into my bed after toeing off my shoes and
let myself drift to sleep.
My alarm jolts me awake, and I shoot out of bed, remembering I need to
shower from my sweaty mess last night. I run the water and check my
early-morning messages, sending back a few texts before I jump in. The
water feels like silk, and I let it wash over my face like a baptism. This is a
baptism; I’m renewed in my belief. The belief that I will not think about
Dominic King, today or ever again. Today, I’m really letting him go.
I wash, rinse, and dry off. Wrapping a towel around my head, I get to
the business of my makeup because today I am going to look good. I’m a
brand-new me, and I am going to be open to everything the universe brings
my way. Shaking my hair loose, I blow-dry, allowing my natural waves to
set and cascade down my back. I highlight my eyes with a black mascara
and apply a gorgeous perfect red stain to my lips. I feel like a glamorous
French actress with doe eyes and just enough pout to be adorable and sexy.
Looking at my phone, I only have twenty minutes to put some clothes
on and hightail it out of my place, so I hustle into my closet to grab my
favorite all-white shirt dress. It’s silk and clings to my body in the most
perfect way, accentuating my curves. I wrap a long, printed scarf around my
waist as a belt, then throw on my strappy Louboutins and head for my door,
phone in hand, stopping only to grab my clutch and keys.
Thank god for my sunnies because the daylight is jarring as I exit my
building to hail a cab. No need to take my car today since Gretchen is
picking me up. Jumping in, I give him the building address, and we head
downtown and make small talk. At least we try because I’m taken away
from conversation with emails I need to return. Even though my office is
close by, I give the cabbie a twenty, no change needed, and make my way
up.
Every time I walk into this building, I fall in love more with its sleek
glass walls and iron beaming that accentuate the curves of the architecture
like some kind of iron maiden. She’s a beautiful place to be every day. I
work on the top floor; our space is shared only with a law firm on the
opposite side. I take the elevators up to the fortieth floor and nod to the
front desk girl as I make my way through the cubicles.
Rounding a corner, I see Boyd already sitting at the desk that precedes
my office. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Ms. Matthews. Your coffee is on your desk, and I’m
sorry, but Ms. Andrews was here earlier…she wouldn’t take no for an
answer.”
My face scrunches in confusion as I walk past him and open my door.
Cats.
That’s all I see on my desk. Fucking bobblehead cats. At least twenty
are scattered along my desk, all set out and looking at me with their big
eyes and black frames, the kind reserved for Chinese restaurants and gift
stores.
Fucking Gretchen! I drop my head down and laugh. I’m officially a cat
lady.
Walking back out to Boyd’s desk, I raise an eyebrow for explanation.
“She said you were really into cats and she was trying to surprise you
with the figurines. I’ve learned that Ms. Andrews always has a plan and I
am not, repeat not, allowed to derail that plan.”
I try not to laugh because her antics are insane. I feel bad for Boyd but
worse for me because I’m stuck with her. “Ah, I see…and she came by
earlier to set this up?”
“Yes.” His face is worried.
“Great. Do me a favor: call around and regift these pussies?”
“Will do, Ms. Matthews.” He only gives a hint of a smirk, but that’s a
lot for Boyd.
I walk back into my office and work vigorously to finish my morning
tasks so that I can meet Gretchen and have my lion’s share of mimosas. All
on her. My phone dings, calling my attention to the screen.
Gretchen: You ready yet? Helllooo? Cat got your tongue?
I pocket a cat, walk out of my office, and give a nod to Boyd. “Hey,
have fun tonight with your parents. Congrats to your father’s retirement.
Order a bottle of champagne on me tonight.”
“Wow, thank you, Ms. Matthews.”
Smiling, I leave as he walks by me to rid my office of Gretchen’s joke.
 Taking the elevators down, I have the cat in hand as I walk toward the
town car Gretchen has waiting out front.
“Really? You are such a B!” Her laugh is maniacal as I toss the kitty at
her.
“You love me.” Catching it, she blows kisses at me and sinks into the
back of the town car.
“Message received and unappreciated by the way. I’m not going to
become some crazy cat lady just because I’m passing on King,” I argue,
following her into the car.
“Loosen up, cat lady. I’m not the one down on love.” She puts the cat
back in my lap.
“I’m not down, just realistic. It’s been too long. I don’t know how…I
just need to move on, G.” My fingers fumble with the little bobblehead to
distract me from my regret.
“So, what you’re saying is that you will move on with some nice guy
and have a nice life eventually and I should stop worrying.”
“Yes! That’s exactly what I’m saying. You finally get it.”
“Okay, but one question?” Looking at her expectantly, I nod my
acceptance. “What guy will ever magically come along and not feel like a
consolation prize?” Right. There it is.
“I need a drink.”
I’m met with her smile.
I’m so caught up in my conversation about my love life that I fail to
watch our arrival to the restaurant until it’s too late. My car door is opened
by valet, and I recognize the scenery immediately. My lungs stop working.
I’m going to kill Gretchen. I’ve only told her about this restaurant one
hundred times. This was a well-thought-out plan. I turn and watch her walk
around the car to meet me cautiously.
“Drew, don’t be mad. I had to. You’re miserable and I am just being the
very best friend I can be. This could be a great thing—we could see him
and you could finally reconnect.” I’m having a stroke. All rational thought
has left my body. I could just get in the car and speed away and leave her
here.
“No, Gretchen, we won’t reconnect. He said he wouldn’t forgive me.
What the fuck!” I start to chew my nails. “What if he doesn’t want to see
me? The possibility of him is all I have, and I’m hoarding it.” Her face
gives away her sympathy and makes me feel weak, so I decide to put on a
brave face. “But he probably isn’t even here. He has so many properties,
and his home base is New York.” I wave my hand to dismiss the nerves I
feel. I walk past where Gretchen is standing and directly into the restaurant.
I’ll fake it until I make it.
We are led to a table outside, and I can’t stop the memories that invade
my mind, my shoulders tense from my anxiety. I steal a look around as we
are seated and see faces of people just out for brunch, having a nice
morning. He’s not here. I hoped that would relax me, but it seems to be
having the opposite effect. Letting out a small breath, I try and focus on my
menu and remind myself that he isn’t here even if he feels ever present.
“I’m so sorry, Drew. I didn’t think. Honestly, I thought you were being
dramatic for the sake of storytelling when you talked about your
connection. I didn’t mean for this to be awful for you. I didn’t realize how
you guys ended.” Looking up from my menu, I return her smile. I know she
loves me fiercely; her heart is always in the right place.
“Thank you, but I think we should stay. Yes I feel anxious, and yes I
feel scared, but it’s better than feeling numb. I can’t explain the connection
I have with him. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt. He’s my Renée
Zellweger.”
Her smile grows at my reference.
“Aww, he completes you.” We both start to laugh as the waiter
approaches.
“It’s weird because it was twenty-four hours, but I swear I fell and I
keep falling, but I won’t know until I jump in, all in. It’s just fucking scary.”
“I get that. There’s a lot to lose, but willingly giving up a chance for
love makes you ungrateful and dumb.”
I laugh and shake my head in agreement. “Truth. Plot tomorrow, drink
today?” Blowing me a kiss, she calls the waiter.
After we order, I down my first mimosa, taking the edge off before my
breakfast arrives. After three more, I forget to look for King. Instead, I’m
having a great time with my friend and these bottomless mimosas. I’m just
like all these other people, enjoying my morning and having great
conversation and even better food.
“This is a perfect morning. Thank you, Gretchen.”
“Really? I know it started out crazy, but I’m glad we stayed too.”
“I really overreacted. I mean, what are the chances that I would run into
him, and really, what’s the worst that could happen?” We cheers to facing
our demons and getting our happily ever after while laughing over my crazy
reaction when we arrived, but I should have known. I should have been
more guarded. It’s always the moment when you stop expecting the result
you dread that it happens.
I stretch out my arms, then run my hands through my hair to fluff it and
let my eyes drift around the room.
King. Blinking a couple of times, I try and make out what I’m seeing.
My eyes are fixed at the scene happening in the restaurant, through the
main room, all the way to the door. Gretchen follows my eyeline to see
what I’m staring at.
“Aww, that’s sweet, but that could be you one day too. Having breakfast
with your hot-as-sin honey, playing with your baby.” She looks back to her
food and takes a bite, but when I don’t answer, she looks at me with curious
eyes. “Drew, what’s up?”
“It’s King.”
“What?” Dropping her fork, she looks around. “Where?”
“With his family…oh my god, he has a family.” My voice is quiet,
calm. I’m anything but.
“Wait, no, you said he had a niece. Maybe he’s just taking out his sister-
in-law and the baby.” Twisting in her chair, she looks over her shoulder at
King and his wife.
“Not unless he likes to stick his tongue down her throat.” My stomach
turns as I watch her climb him like the pole she’s probably familiar with. I
might be the “other” woman, but I can’t help the possessive need I have to
claim what’s mine. Then again, he’s nothing to want anymore. Cheating
prick. “Maybe he likes to share with his brother. I mean, they own a sex
club—maybe they’re into some twisted shit. Fuck him.”
“Are you okay? Your calm is scaring me.”
“No. I’m not okay.”
“Jesus, Drew. Let’s get the check. You know what, just go. Go out the
side, and don’t even look back.” Motioning to the waiter for the check, she
starts mumbling about what a horrible idea all of this was, but I can’t focus
on what she is saying. My sole focus is on King. King kissing his wife,
King playing with his daughter. Ella is his daughter. They look happy,
content. I’m so dumb—I fell for all of it.
“Gretchen, I have to go.” I feel sick.
 “Go, babe, totally. Go out the side exit over there.” She points to a small
exit off the terrace.
Tossing my napkin on the table, I push out my chair and grab my clutch.
My mind and body feel disassociated. I’m on a lag; I can’t even process
what I’m seeing. I reach the side exit and walk around the side of the
building, my eyes filled with tears. I wipe them away, stopping in my
tracks. No. I won’t cry. I don’t deserve tears; I deserve an apology. With
every step, my anger builds.
How dare he.
He made me believe.
He made me hope.
I trusted myself only to be tricked into being the fool. Fuck that. I’m not
cowering behind some shrub waiting for him to go live his perfect life. I
come around the corner of the building and walk straight toward the front,
all too prepared to have a confrontation with this massive dick. I see
Gretchen standing at the entrance, swiveling her head back and forth to look
for me.
“Drew.” Her voice is a loud whisper.
“Gretchen,” I answer back, walking past her, my voice confident but
angry.
“Don’t do whatever you are thinking. I hate everything about the look
on your face right now. It makes me think I’m going to have to hide a
body,” she loud-whispers as she follows me.
“You may have to,” I say over my shoulder as I approach the hostess
stand. “Hi, I noticed Mr. King being sat with his family. If you could let him
know he has a call at the front. I would appreciate your help. It’s a delicate
matter.” The hostess looks uncomfortably to Gretchen and then back to me.
“Um, okay.” She scurries off into the dining room and out toward the
outdoor seating area. Holy hell. That asshole is sitting at our table. He’s
sitting with his secret family, probably mentally reminiscing about our illicit
affair.
“Do you want me to take a walk or stay, Drew?” I look to my friend,
and her eyes speak volumes. They’re sad. They match my own.
“Stay. Don’t let me leave until I say all the things…I need to say all the
things.”
“I promise.”
 There is always a small fraction of time between bravery and regret, and
I’ve found myself knee-deep in the latter. I was ready to hand him his ass,
and then five minutes pass and now I’m questioning my sanity. Why even
bother? There is nothing to gain from this other than to cause a scene and
make fools of myself and Gretchen.
Gretchen reaches out to take my hand and squeeze. I sigh resigning my
need to walk down this road. I need to walk out of here with my head held
high. I turn from the hostess stand and head back out toward the valet when
the poor girl I sent out returns.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Mr. King is…” My body freezes, and I turn slowly
to see King standing four feet away, looking between Gretchen and me,
confused.
“Yes, can I help you?” Is he for real? He’s going to treat me like he
doesn’t even know me! My anger ramps back up, and I’m pretty sure the
whole “high road” idea is torched.
“No, King, you can’t help me. Not anymore. How’s your family? Of all
the bullshit things to do to someone. I can’t believe you had me believing
that night—hook, line, and sinker. I’m so stupid. You warned me you were
the devil, and I didn’t listen, but let me tell you something: I will hate you
for the rest of my life, and if it wasn’t for the sweet baby at the table, I
would march over and tell your wife that you are a cheating piece of shit. I
hope you die alone and miserable.”
Gretchen puts her hand on my shoulder, and I realize my whole body is
leaned forward, spitting my anger out at King.
I look over my shoulder at my friend, embarrassed at my outburst but
sadder more than anything. “You said all the things…let’s go, Drew.”
I don’t bother another look at him because I did what I came to do and
now I need to leave. I never want to see him again.
“Drew? Drew Matthews?” The way he says my name like it’s foreign in
his mouth makes me lurch forward at him. I don’t even know what I’m
going to do, but the need to smack him across his humored face is strong.
“Are you kidding? As if you are just remembering me…you really are a
sick bastard.”
King closes in on me, and I feel Gretchen pull me back slightly. I won’t
budge. I will stand my ground. Nobody ever gets the best of me again.
Looking directly into his eyes, I find they’re warm; the intensity is missing,
and the huge smile plastered on his face is so friendly. This guy is crazy.
Jesus does he have split personalities because he looks like himself, but he
doesn’t feel like himself. I feel like my mind is playing tricks on me.
King extends his hand and takes mine, beginning to shake it. My eyes
shoot down to our hands, and my mind starts to put all the pieces together.
He’s amused, he’s the same but different, something is off…
“It’s very nice to meet you, Drew. I’m Luca. Dom’s twin.”
“Oh snap. Twin?” Gretchen whispers as she lets out a small giggle.
“This just got awkward. I’ll just get the car.” Backing away, she leaves us to
speak alone. I want to grab her and pull her back, but I can’t move. I feel
like I’m in shock, and the heat rising over my cheeks makes my
embarrassment undeniable. I start to fidget with my clutch to manage my
nerves. It all makes sense, so much so that I don’t have to question Luca’s
honesty. He looks like my King, but that’s where it stops. Even his voice
lacks the gravel tone King’s has. Death, take me now.
“For the love of God, I am so, so sorry. I’m horrified. I don’t even know
what to say… I saw you and from far away…I mean, oh god. I just…
Obviously, I didn’t realize you were twins. He said brother—in fact, he
called you his little brother… I’m so embarrassed.”
“Little by minutes! He’s such a dick.” Grinning, he pats my shoulder.
“Don’t be embarrassed. My brother took a lot of heat for me growing up. I
made a few girls mad in my time.”
I try to laugh, but I just want to hide in the bushes.
“Plus he told me you are feisty. I think his exact words were ‘the kind of
girl that could drop any man to his knees.’ I can see he wasn’t
exaggerating.”
I grin, remembering when I took King to his knees. “He said that?
That’s, um, sweet…” Looking down to my clutch, I fiddle with the lock.
“How is he?” I can’t help myself; I need to ask.
“Stubborn.” Luca crosses his arms in a stance not unlike his brother’s.
I nod my head, understanding what he means. I won’t chase you. I won’t
forgive you. His words echo in my mind.
Luca tilts his head to grab my full attention. “But he’s here, in Chicago.
It’s like he’s waiting for some kind of sign. You wouldn’t know anything
about that?”
“He’s still here?” My heart rate starts an acceleration to full stroke.
“Seems that the two of you may have some unresolved conversations to
have. I’m no expert on love, but it’s clear to me that my brother can’t let
you go, and judging by your outburst, you still have feelings for him too.
You should call him—must’ve been a helluva night.” The grin runs in the
family, except Luca is sweeter, less arrogant. I prefer arrogant.
“I’ll think about it. In the meantime, maybe this could be our little
secret?”
“Sure.” His smile is all too sneaky, and I’m positive that today’s
spectacle will make its way straight back to King. Straight back to his
townhouse, in Chicago.
He’s still here. He’s waiting for me.

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MY BROTHER’S PHONE CALL HAS my blood boiling. She was at my restaurant.
I didn’t want her to know I was here, but Luca has done exactly what he
hoped for. The little asshole has made it impossible for me to stay in the
shadows, but I won’t chase her. I told her I wouldn’t. If she wants me, she’ll
have to beg. The thought of her on her knees makes my dick jump and my
head foggy. I want this girl more than I should. Every rational thought tells
me to let her go, walk away, but I can’t. She made me feel as if the bastard I
am was somehow capable of redemption.
I can’t concentrate, but I have to; I have a meeting in ten minutes with
an employee I know has been skimming from the club. Sarah and I have set
it up to question him and find out whether more are involved, but I feel
volatile. My head’s not in the right place. I take a deep breath, trying to let
out my dark thoughts as I push the door open to Church. I’m met with
startled eyes. I realize I may have put more force than necessary into that
opening. I stalk back to the back rooms where my office is located, barking
orders along the way.
When I get to my office, I pull my phone out and hover over her name. I
got her number days after she left me standing on that airstrip. I’ve wanted
to call a thousand times, but each time I start to dial, I remember what she
said. I won’t choose you over myself. I would have chosen her ten out of ten
times. Anger rumbles deep inside me, and it’s comforting and familiar. I
know how to do angry, so I’m planning to let it fester and work it through
my system tonight. I’ll fuck as many women as possible. If I can’t reason
her out of my mind, I’ll fuck her out of my body.
A half hour later, there’s a small knock at my door, drawing my
attention from where I’m sitting. “Yes.”
“Hi, King, it’s time. Do you want him in here or the main room?” I can
see in Sarah’s eyes that she is trying to assess my state of mind.
“Main room.” Nodding, she closes the door.
I take off my suit jacket, unbutton my shirtsleeves, and roll them up my
forearms before I exit to join the interrogation. Entering the room, I see
Sarah seated on a barstool and two of our “specialty” security holding our
guy by each of his arms. This particular security team is open to thinking
outside the box when necessary.
“We clear, Sarah?” I say, keeping my eyes on the asshole thief in front
of me.
“Yeah, boss, everyone’s gone except us. Cameras are off.” He looks as
if he may piss his pants. Then again, I don’t blame him.
Nodding my head to the door, Sarah hops off the stool and makes her
way out. The fewer witnesses, the better. I look at the grown man standing
in front of me and watch him trembling. His fear is palpable. I want to feel
something human toward him, but I don’t. He stole from me, and I’m not
the kind of man someone takes from. Loyalty is the bedrock of every
relationship; once you betray me, retribution is the only measured response
I know.
“Do you know why I had you brought here?” I lean against the bar,
reaching over to grab a glass.
“Mr. King, I swear, I didn’t take anything. I would never steal from
you.” Lies.
“So, you do know. It’s important we are on the same page.” I pour my
two fingers of scotch and gulp it down, exhaling harshly at the scorch.
His pleas come out swallowed by the crying that’s begun. Men like this
make me sick. He would steal from me and then cry when he gets caught.
“How much? Give me what I want, and it will play to your favor.” I
already know the answer, but I want to hear him say it. I want him to look
me in the fucking eye and admit he took from me.
 “No, I swear, Mr. King…I never did anything…” I laugh at the pathetic
display, amazed that he won’t take the gift I’m giving him. Looking to my
security, I give a nod for them to let him go. The weasel adjusts his shirt
and begins walking toward me. He thinks I believe him. He’s misjudging
my motives, and my hand twitches as he comes closer. Today may be his
unluckiest day.
“Do you think I’m a stupid man?” I ask, walking toward him as my
control begins to unravel. “Do you think I would ask a question I didn’t
already know the answer to?”
I’m met with fear, true fear, as I grab the back of his hair, pull his head
back, and throw him to the ground. Putting one hand on the ground, his
other reaches up to me to beg me to spare him.
“Tell me how much!” My voice booms through the room, every muscle
in my body aching from the tension.
“A hundred K.”
“Who else?” I growl out, gritting my teeth together.
“Nobody, King…just me…”
Lies again.
His screams silence the rest of his sentence as my foot connects with the
hand on the floor, over and over, again and again until I’m sure it’s broken.
The devil inside has taken over, and I know exactly what I’m capable of.
From the look on his face so does he.
“Give me a fucking name!”
“Victor and Scott…oh god, please, I’m sorry. It was the three of us. We
didn’t think you’d notice—you have so much—but they got greedy. I’m
sorry, please…please.” His cries fall on deaf ears. Three men took from me.
Three men that I fed, housed, and gave employment to.
“A man doesn’t ever take what isn’t his to take. I paid you well, treated
you well, and this is how you repay my generosity? You’re lucky to be
leaving with your life.” Squatting down, I grab the top of his hair to make
sure he looks at me. “Tell your friends that I never forget, so they will need
to look over their shoulder for the rest of their lives. Now get out of my
club. You may want to see someone about that hand.” I let him go, and he
falls forward onto his shoulder as he struggles to get up.
As I walk away, I look down at my hands, the hands that are capable of
taking a life. I swore I wouldn’t turn into that monster again. A broken hand
is my gift to him.
 “Yes, okay…thank you, King, thank you…we will return all the money.
I swear,” he cries as he stands, holding his limp hand.
Turning around, I begin to unroll my shirtsleeves. “Keep it. You’ll need
to disappear because if I see you again, your payment will be with your
life.” I don’t need confirmation that he understands or believes me. Without
looking up, I turn back toward the direction of my office. “Fellas, take him
to his mother’s house. This way he knows we know where she lives. Find
the others and treat them to the same hospitality I’ve shown our friend.”
All I hear are his pleading words as he is dragged back out of my
Church.

“Hey, the guys called in. It’s all done.”

“Good.” Leaning back in my chair, I put my hands behind my head and
look to Sarah.
“I need to know where they end up.” Never turn a blind eye. The best
advice I was ever given by my father and his brother.
“I thought you never wanted to see them again. Like a banishment of
sorts.”
“Do what I’m asking, or I’ll find someone who will.” My words are
harsh and bear command.
“Whoa, sorry. Of course, King.” Pausing at the door, she turns back, her
face filled with hesitation. “Are you okay? I know it isn’t my place, but you
just seem off…” Her sincerity quells the need to bark another order. This
girl has been loyal, and despite myself, she feels more like family than most
others.
“I’m fine, Sarah. Thank you for asking. You really are a pain, you know
that?”
She matches my grin and shrugs before leaving me to more of my
unwanted thoughts. I stand from my desk and take another sip of my scotch.
Tonight, I will fuck and pray that gives me the relief I need.

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ANOTHER SLEEPLESS NIGHT IS MAKING me spiral. It’s three in the morning,
and I still can’t sleep. My run-in with Luca is on loop in my mind. I’m a
mess. He’s here. He’s in my city, and I know exactly where to find him, but
I’m afraid. I’m afraid he won’t want me anymore because he’s all I want.
Dammit, I can’t do anything about the past. My breakup with Nick was too
fresh, my head was a mess, but I never didn’t want to be with King. If he
really cared the way he said, he’d understand. I can’t sit around wishing,
hoping, and praying that we will magically find each other. I need to make
shit happen. I left, so I need to be the one to make the first move.
I run into my closet and throw on some sweats over my negligee and
grab my sneakers. I don’t even take the time to put them on as I grab my
keys and cardigan, heading for the door. I can’t overthink this; I just need to
get to him. Everything will fall into place if I just get to him. I believe that
wholeheartedly. I’d hoped before, but now I know he’s waiting to be found.
He’s giving me my time without me asking.
Walking downstairs, I wait for my Uber from inside my building, taking
the moment to put my sneakers on. I catch a glimpse of myself and laugh at
how ridiculous I look. Hair in a messy bun, old-man cardi, a negligee, and
sweats. Jesus, I’m really trying for the hard sell. At 3:00 a.m., what do I
think will happen? I’ll show up and say sorry and we’ll live happily ever
after? Looking down at my phone, I cancel the Uber and trudge back up to
my apartment. I need a better, less crazy plan.
Toeing off my shoes and grabbing a blanket, I curl up on my couch to
try out some television, in the hopes it may lull me to sleep so that I can
have the ability of rational thought tomorrow.

All fucking night, the women go just as soon as I meet them. I can’t look at
anyone. I’m trying, but everyone falls short. I wouldn’t touch one of the
women offering me an escape tonight if someone paid me. I’m not sure my
dick would even cooperate, so I sit at the bar pounding scotch and saying
her name like a curse. That’s what she is…a fucking curse.
I was a fool. I thought I’d ruin her for every man after me. I just didn’t
plan on feeling anything, let alone this—whatever “this” is. All I know is I
can’t shake her, and I just wish we could go back to the beginning and start
again. Start from before that asshole she was with and before I forgot how
to be this kind of man, the kind that loves and cherishes.
I hate her.
“Another,” I grunt out to the bartender, watching him pour my glass
with the amber liquid. Taking my glass, I make my way through the club
and downstairs to the bedroom I first brought her. There’s something about
it that makes me stand still and not enter. I don’t know why, but I can’t go
in. I stumble back and connect with someone behind me, the liquor taking
effect.
“Whoa, King, hey. Sorry, I thought I would check on you since you
drank all the whiskey.”
 Righting myself, I smile at Sarah and laugh. “You’re a shitty observer.
I’m drinking scotch.” Clinking my finger to my glass, I smirk. “I’m fine.
I’m going to stay here for the night. No need to worry.”
“Right, well, you seem fine. So…” She turns to walk away and then
turns back around. “This is about that girl? Isn’t it?” Goddammit with
everyone.
“This is most definitely about a woman. One I won’t be having a
conversation about.” My tone is anything but wavering.
“Right, but…” Sarah chews her lip and then blurts out, “You should
write down what you wish you could say to her. I had a shrink tell me to do
that once. Then you might feel better and stop almost killing employees and
basically being a tyrant.” Her overstep has her worried; I can see it in her
eyes.
“Only because you are you, this conversation is ending without me
becoming a tyrant. That’s your only get-out-of-jail-free card. Understand?”
“Absolutely.” Taking a few steps backward, she nods her head and turns
around to make her way back upstairs. “There’s notecards in the room.”
Shaking my head at her bravado, I down the rest of my drink and look
back to the damn door.
Grabbing the handle, I let myself into the room with my key and close
the door behind me. I walk over to sitting area and sink down into the cool
leather chair, letting out a breath of frustration. My hand dangles off the
side of the arm of the chair as I rest my eyes, heavy from the liquor. I must
have fallen asleep momentarily because my body jumps as my hand touches
the unexpected surface of the end table. Sitting up, I rake my hands through
my hair and twist my head in the direction of where my hand hit. My eyes
lock on the notecard and pen. I’m not sure why I feel compelled; she’ll
never know the depth of my feelings. How could she when she’s never felt
what it’s like to have your heart ripped out the first time you decide to give
it?
I don’t know what to write, but I’ll try anything to rid her from my
mind, so I put down the only words I can.
Morning comes too soon, but at least I was able to sleep in this Saturday
morning. I stretch like a cat on my couch, then plop my feet down on the
hardwood floors and push myself to stand, acclimating to being awake. I’m
not a morning person. I’m more of a “don’t speak until after my coffee”
kind of person. The only exception was when I spent the night with King;
he definitely had something better to offer me than coffee.
Making my way to the kitchen, I flow into my routine and breeze about,
making breakfast for myself. The knock at my door causes me to jump, and
I drop an egg on the floor.
“Shit! Coming, hold on.” I wipe up most of the yolk and chuck it into
the sink, wiping my hands as I make my way to the front door. Staring out
the peephole, I see a man in a black suit holding a small white box.
“Can I help you?” I say through the door. A girl can never be too
careful.
“Delivery for Drew Matthews.”
“Thank you, but you can leave it at the front,” I call out, turning my
head from the peephole.
“Sorry, ma’am, but Mr. King’s request was specific. I am to deliver this
to you personally.” What the hell?
Fumbling with the door, I swing it open. “Mr. King?” Smoothing my
hair out of my face, I’m failing miserably at playing it cool.
“Yes, ma’am. He was very clear with his request.”
“Okay, thank you,” I say, reaching out to accept the gift.
“Good day.” The gentleman turns and walks away down the hallway,
and I realize I’m still standing in the doorway watching him retreat.
Closing my door, I look down at the square box. “Oh my god,” I
whisper to myself as I set the box on the table. Then a thought occurs to me:
What if it’s from Luca? Could be from the other Mr. King. Nope, no way.
This is from my King. I pull the top off the box, and sitting in velvet is a
skeleton key. The kind that King gives as membership to Church.
I grab for the note and rip it open, greedy for his words.
 Fuck. He’s looking for retribution, but this is my opening. This time I
won’t leave until he understands. It’s fitting for it to be back at Church. The
crackling from the pan reminds me that I was in the middle of cooking
eggs. I run back to the pan and chuck it in the sink, then try to slow my
breathing. I’m breathless from that damn note. It took four damn words to
have my entire body light up like a Christmas tree. Be prepared to beg.
Breakfast is a disaster, so I call an emergency meeting at the café down
the street. Gretchen walks in looking gorgeous, holding up her hands as if to
say “What’s going on?”
“Sit down. I already ordered your bagel.”
“What is wrong with you? You look like a fancy homeless person. Are
you wearing sweats under a negligee?” She looks at me like I’m deranged.
She may be right.
“Will you focus? I didn’t have time to change.”
“Why? Are you on the lam?” she laughs.
“Look.” I slap the card down between us and watch her face go through
a myriad of reactions until her gaze rejoins my face.
“Yep. My thoughts exactly,” I say, blowing out a breath as I lean back
into the booth.
We both sit for a minute just looking at each other and the card. “You
better take kneepads because begging is not typically from a standing
position.”
 I scream out with laughter and cover my face with one side of my
cardigan.
“What are you going to do?” Gretchen laughs out while the waiter
delivers her bagel and my fruit.
“I don’t know, but is it crazy that I’m this giddy? It’s our second chance,
Gretchen. All I know is he’s going to have to put up a helluva fight to get
rid of me.”
“You have to wear something crazy hot. You should wear that new
jumpsuit. The black one that cuts down all the way past your cleavage.”
I’m talking about my forever, and she wants to discuss clothes.
“What cleavage.” I laugh.
“True, but he’s already seen the goods.” She takes a bite, mumbling out
the rest of her sentence.
“I just don’t want to make the same mistake. I hesitated—I made him
feel like I didn’t believe in him. He isn’t…strike that, we aren’t anything
like my past relationship. Choosing him doesn’t mean disregarding myself.
It took me a minute to understand that, but I can’t wait to tell him. I want
him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in all my life.”
“Sweet Jesus you’re in love. I’d ask if he has a brother, but I already
know the answer. The real question is how do we get rid of his wife?”
I roll my eyes at her and dig into my fruit.
The rest of the morning we laugh and plot out the evening. I say my
goodbyes to Gretchen and make my way back to my house to change from
my hobo wear and begin my transformation to sex goddess. Tonight, I’m
going to stake my claim on Dominic King.

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I MANAGE A NAIL APPOINTMENT and some lingerie shopping as well as a
blowout. I’ve handled every possible aspect, but the day drags by, and I find
myself ready to go two hours early. Strumming my fingers on my couch, I
go to the bar cart by my window and pour myself a drink to calm my
nerves. I’m nervous—very nervous. I can’t help but feel like this night has
been orchestrated to make me feel this way. He’s definitely making this
happen on his terms, but I’m okay with it. A guy like King doesn’t bend or
compromise, but the rules are different for me and I know he’s giving me
what he can give.
My cell rings and I see it’s my dad. I debate for a moment, hoping he
doesn’t ask what I’m doing tonight. I’m not sure I’m ready to share.
“Hey, Dad.” My voice is chipper.
“Hello, stranger. I almost forgot what your voice sounded like.”
“Oh geez, come on. Works been busy, that’s all.” Grabbing the remote, I
turn the television down.
“Oh, I was hoping to hear you’d met a guy.”
“Dad, come on.”
“Well, I don’t want to you turning out like me, is all. Speaking of, have
you talked to your mother lately? How is she?” Every conversation is the
same with him. They’ve been divorced for ten-ish years, but he always asks
about her.
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
“Because it’s easier to ask you…”
Yeah, right. “Mmhmm, sure.”
“Oh, now, now. Let’s get back to your love life.”
“No, thanks! Although, I do have a date tonight.” Date seems like the
wrong word.
“Well, there you go. What’s his name? What does he do?”
“His name is Dominic, and he is in real estate mostly.” I leave off the
part about a sex club. No need to traumatize my father.
“That’s great, kiddo. I hope it works out.” Me too.
“Thanks, Dad. Hey, I have a conference in your neck of the woods next
month. Let’s do dinner?”
“I would love that. Give your mom my love.”
“Will do, Dad. Bye.”
We hang up and I check the time. Fuck, it’s only been twenty minutes. I
can do this; I can make it without losing my mind. I need to pass the time
quickly, so I grab my laptop and dig into work. Work always has a way of
making me lose myself. When I look up, an hour has passed. I shut down
my laptop and try to calm the nerves that are compounding.
Double-checking my apartment to make sure I have everything I need, I
lock the door and head out, making my way down to the street to hail a cab.
I open and close my purse, triple-checking for the skeleton key. The whole
evening has a surreal feeling, I want to pinch myself, but I’ll leave that to
King. I haven’t been this happy since the first night we were together. He’s
given me my opportunity, and I have no intention of spoiling this chance.
The closer we get, the more flips my stomach does. Leaning forward, I
look up into the rearview mirror and check my face. I’m so ready for him.
He has no idea how ready. My nightly dreams have been so wet, I expected
my body would fall into a coma in the hopes I never had to wake from
them. Dreams to reality is what I’m hoping for.
We pull up outside of Church, and I basically toss cash at the driver as
my door is opened. It’s everything I remember. The aura starts from the
outside. While the building itself is unassuming, it has a feeling. Maybe it’s
the scent of sex escaping between the posts and nails. It’s sobering; it makes
you stop and recognize that once the door is opened, there isn’t any going
backward.
I walk up the steps, and with each step I’m even more resolute in my
commitment to King. The door opens, and I can hear the faint sounds of
music coming from the main room, drawing me in like a dark siren’s call.
“Do you have a key, ma’am?” the massive guard inside the door asks.
“Oh, yes.” Opening my purse, I search and find it quickly.
“Thank you. Please don’t lose your key. You may enter.”
Here we go.
I realize I don’t know where I’m supposed to go. All the card said was
9:00 p.m. I look around for someone to ask, but I’m alone. So, I head to the
main living room where we first met. The room is full of people all in
various forms of conversation, against a backdrop of dim lighting and plush
walls. Some are enjoying drinks and engaging in voyeurism, some sharing
whispers and roaming hands, while others are obviously past the flirtations
and seem headed for straight downstairs. I walk to the bar and order a
bourbon, scanning the room, but nothing. No King in sight.
I’m lost in thought when I’m interrupted by the feel of someone’s arm
brushing my own. It makes me jump, and I immediately smile politely at
the gray-haired gentleman and look away. I’ve only been here once before,
but I have a gut feeling this man didn’t accidentally brush my arm. A
couple slides in next to me and begins to make small talk. I don’t want to be
rude, but I’m fairly certain they are looking for a third, so I drop “my
boyfriend” an embarrassing amount of times before the husband asks, “So,
lovely, where is this boyfriend?”
“Well, funny you should ask. I’m meeting him here. I just don’t know
where.” Saying it out loud makes me a bit embarrassed, but his wife left the
house in pasties, so I figure they aren’t judging me too much. I look at the
man as I finish my sentence, and he looks to his companion worriedly.
“This isn’t the kind of establishment you let your girlfriend meet you at.
You might want to find a new guy. I’m happy to put my application in…”
Oh god, I can’t. Rico geriatric is never getting this girl.
“I’m sure he’s just running late, but I’m flattered. Completely
uninterested but flattered nonetheless.”
The lady friend giggles and pets his chest, leaning across to whisper
conspiratorially, “Maybe he’s downstairs? In the rooms? But you need a
special key to get down there.”
 My interest is immediately sparked. “Wait, what kind of key? I thought
the key was entry into the club itself. What’s yours look like?” I open my
clutch to rummage for the key while the hubby pulls out his key. It’s a
skeleton key with a C in the center.
“Oh, my goodness.” I look down to my key. “Mine is different. Look,
the entire top of the key is a set of snakes intertwined. Thank you!”
I can barely contain my excitement as I hop down from my barstool and
excitedly retrace my steps from our first night, making my way to the stairs
that lead down. There’s an unassuming guard at the top, who stops me in
my tracks.
“Key.”
I pull out my key and show him, and he nods for me to take the stairs.
My feet carry me faster than I even expect to the door. Our door. It’s just as
intimidating as it was the first time. My heart is beating out of my chest.
There’s so much to say. I want to take back every word I said, but I can’t, so
I’ll kiss all the wounds I left on him if he lets me. I put my key into the lock
and twist, hearing the click.
I push the door open slowly. The room is barely lit, creating the sexiest
ambiance.
“King,” I call out as I walk in. The room is the same, but it feels empty
without him here. I walk around, running my fingertips over the leather
chairs and testing the cuffs on the wall. I make my way over to the bed and
sit on the edge, hoping for something to start making sense, when I see a
black envelope on the bed.
I reach out and touch the paper gently, tracing my name written on the
front before I pick it up and open it. There’s a single card inside, and I pull
it out to read, a smile spread across my face.
 The room starts to spin, and I drop the card. Everything thing seems to
move in slow motion. I watch the card float down to the ground, and there’s
a buzzing in my ears. He’s using my own words against me. I wanted to
explain, make him understand, but he’s set me up to pay me back. This is
fucking payment for his heart. He gave it freely, and I treated it carelessly.
A breath escapes my lips, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath. I’ve
hurt him, and now he wants us even, but I’m not backing down.
I love him.
Standing up, I tear from the room and down the hallway, back up the
stairs. There’s no guard to be seen, and I head straight to the bar. It doesn’t
end like this. We aren’t done until I say we are.
“King! Now!” My voice echoes through the room, causing more than
one person to turn their head as I slap my hand down on the bar top. Except
the people I’m yelling at. They’re ignoring me, which makes me think
they’ve been told to. Ridiculous! He knows me better.
I turn to the room, looking from face to face, as a man casting a very
large shadow approaches me, his intention clear. He’s going to ask me to
leave. I won’t leave without a pound of flesh, and I’m not playing some
twisted game of retribution. I’ve never been so angry. Angry for me but
mostly angry for King’s attempt to walk away. If I’ve learned anything
during this month, it’s that what we have isn’t some switch you can just flip
to the Off position. The sooner he realizes it, the better.
“Key, please.”
I shake my head with amusement, pulling my key from my clutch.
 “You want my key? Take the fucking thing. Now bring me King.” I toss
it to the floor, watching it slide a few feet. I nod for him to pick it up. He
looks at me, irritated, leaving it where it lies.
“You need to leave. I’ll escort you out.” He’s massive and I’m sure he
could pick me up right over his shoulder, but I’ll come back. Day after day,
night after night, until King looks me in the eye and says we are done. He’s
being a fucking coward.
“Bring me King!” My voice is a roar. He doesn’t have a fucking clue
who he is dealing with. The guard puts his hand on my back to lead me out,
but I turn toward him, bringing my knee to his balls, causing him to topple
forward. I turn in a circle, looking at the faces, all a mix of fear and shock.
Taking a deep breath in, I let this moment sink in. I’ll damn him to hell
before he ever pulls some shit like this again.
Silence fills the room. “I’ll repeat myself only once more: I want King.”
Looking around the room at the quiet whispers and heads shifting side to
side, my attention is called to behind me.
“I’m here.”

OceanofPDF.com
I WHIP AROUND TO HIS voice coming from the shadows. I want to scream
obscenities until he admits he’s a coward. This whole elaborate setup has
been to guard himself, make us even. He wants company in his misery, but
I’m already there. I’ve never felt such a primal rage. I could kill him for this
but not before I fuck him first. The room is eerily quiet, even with the faint
sounds of music filling the space. We stare at each other, our anger feeding
off each other’s. I can’t see his face, but I know he’s looking directly at me.
“Is this what you want? To cause a scene? To be humiliated in front of
all these people?”
I can see only his silhouette, but his voice carries from where he stands.
I’m not surprised at his meanness. I’m not dissuaded either. I was naïve to
think I would win him back without a fight.
“Is that how you think ‘this’ ends?” I motion between us. “Stop being a
fucking coward, King. You’ll only regret this. Trust me, I know.”
He pushes out of the darkness, finding me quickly. This time I don’t
take a step back. He told me once that I didn’t know my own power. I hope
he’s prepared for me now that I do.
The guard steps closer to me warily. “Mr. King, should I escort her
out?” the giant finally speaks. I look over, shaking my head.
 “Doesn’t look like you are capable of that task. Get the fuck out of my
face before I fire you.” I can feel his eyes burning into my profile as the
man does as he’s told. Such a heavy hand this man has.
I smirk, turning my head to meet King’s rage-filled eyes. “Why are you
still here, Ms. Matthews?”
“Ms. Matthews?” I roll my eyes. “You know why I’m here, King. Don’t
play dumb. Your note said to be prepared to beg. I assume this is the portion
of the evening when I do just that.” The surprise on his face is satisfying.
He’s thrown.
He stares for a moment, his eyes angry, calculating, and then he starts to
circle me before he stops behind me and leans in to whisper, “I wouldn’t
dare play dumb, not with such a cunning little fox, but you know, even the
smartest of fox are eaten by the wolf. Is that what you want? To be my
dinner? Do you want me to eat you, Drew?” He runs his fingertips down
my arm, and a trail of goose bumps erupts. I’m caught off guard by his
touch, and I suddenly feel hyperaware of all the eyes on me.
“Don’t treat me like one of your little games. We’re more than a game.”
My voice is low. I look to the faces of the people staring, drawn into our
showdown, and I feel tawdry. This isn’t how our moment should go. He’s
trying to orchestrate our demise.
His sneer is hateful as he walks around to face me again. “We aren’t
anything. I fucked you, and now it’s done. Get out of my club.”
My eyes close, unable to look at him. I hear him turn to leave me where
I stand when I look up. “Dominic!” My chest heaves from my anger at his
stubborn pride. “I’ll never make the same mistake again. You’re mine.”
There it is. All my cards on the table.
He turns back but doesn’t look at me. Instead he looks past me, and I
follow his gaze to a blonde seated at the bar. My head swivels back to King,
and my hands fist at my sides, my nails making permanent indentations in
my palms. Who the fuck? I hate the look on his face as he takes in my
reaction. It’s satisfaction. No, it’s vengeance. He nods his head at her, but I
don’t dare look over my shoulder. I snap my fingers once, and his eyes dart
to mine in surprise.
“Tell your whore that her services are no longer needed. I can’t exactly
hate her for keeping something I own warm when I discarded it in the first
place, but if I see her again, I won’t be as gentle with my words, or my
actions.” Don’t test me.
 “You own me? Is that why you’re here to stake some claim on me,
Drew? You want the world to know I’m yours? Then by all means. Let
everyone see.” Stepping back, he begins to pull his suit belt through the
loops to unfasten it, a smug look on his face.
“You want to fuck me in front of all these people?” My question laced
with my incredulity .
“Isn’t that what you want?” He motions for me to undress. “Come on,
Drew—what lengths are you ready to travel as retribution for ripping out
my fucking heart?” His voice raises at the end as he pulls his belt through
the loops so fast it cracks out like thunder into the silence, and I jump. Now
we’re getting somewhere.
I stand still, taking a moment to look around at the eyes transfixed by
our show. I’m sure they feel it—the swell of attraction that always seems to
vibrate off us, even now, heightened by our anger. The anger that’s been
created by my foolish disregard, turned into some kind of evil plan of
retribution. The humiliation, disappointment, heartache, all of it… He wants
me to feel it because he can’t admit to wallowing in it.
I’ll play this twisted game of chicken. I see through him, and I need to
show him he can trust me with his heart. I focus in on his face, the hurt
beneath the anger, the sorrow beneath the pain. He’s gripping his belt in
hand, his focus on me. It’s always been on me.
“Forgive me.” My voice is quiet as I reach for the straps on my
shoulders. King’s chest heaves as his eyes search mine with an
understanding of what I am doing. He watches intently as the strap falls
from my shoulder. “Whatever it takes, King. I’ll do it to make you
understand that I’m all in.” His head shakes minutely, frown lines appearing
around his face. Tilting his head, he narrows his eyes, giving me a sinister
look.
“On your knees.” His voice is a command. “Begging is usually done
from your knees. If you want me, the price for your forgiveness has
doubled.” The hurt he feels saturates his words like a torrential rain. He’s
drowning in his own despair, capable of breaking us before we get a second
chance, but I’m strong enough to take it, so I lower myself down to my
knees, keeping my eyes focused on his. My nipples harden at the attention
of hungry eyes on this act of submission. He knows I would never roll over
and play submissive for any man, but if this is what he needs, I’m willing. I
will go to any length to put back together what I destroyed.
 “Is this what you need? Do you require I beg you, submit? Because I
will.” Lowering a hand to the ground, I come to all fours, my eyes still
pleading for my forgiveness. “If begging is required, then I’m willing to
crawl for my redemption.” My hands move one in front of another and
begin a slow trek to his feet. King takes a step back, unnerved by my action
as I stop in front of him on the ground. The scene is set. I will hurt, do the
one act that sacrifices all I fought to maintain until he accepts my love, and
then we’re even. It’s never been an eye for an eye because we can only be
equal again once I’ve hurt as deeply. It has to be a heart for a heart.
The belt drops to the floor, but his jaw tightens harder than his cock,
which has become the focus point of my destination. My entire body is
fevered, hot, guided by our little show. I reach out and run my hands up his
legs up toward his massive bulge, but the intensity in his eyes burns into my
soul, and I have to close mine to ready myself for what he will say. I’m not
foolish enough to think this will be the end.
“Get out!” he hisses. “I don’t want you anymore. Get off your fucking
knees.”
I open my eyes slowly to the hate etched on his face and prepare for the
war I have to fight. Gripping his legs, I pull myself to standing.
“Goddamn you, Dominic King.” I reach up to him and grab his chin,
pulling his face down to meet mine. “You don’t need me to take my clothes
off to give you my heart. My pleas won’t make any difference in the depth
of your hurt, but I’m sorry I was so irresponsible with your heart. Forgive
me.” Just for a moment, his chin drops heavily into my hand, but he jerks it
from my fingers just as quickly.
His hazel eyes are a storm of anger as he touches my collarbone with
his fingertips, gently tracing the line. “I never cared for you.”
Lies said by the devil himself.
I reach for his hand, but he pulls it away.
“Stop insulting me with lies. I want you…only you. Forgive me.”
Anger fills his eyes as he leans in. “Never.”
“I won’t give up. Forgive me.” I won’t back down.
“You should give up.”
Never. “My heart is yours, and I’m willing to let you break me, but I
don’t think you want to live with that.”
He casts his eyes down to the ground and runs his hand through his hair.
He lifts his weary head, and for a moment I think I may see my King.
 Placing my hand on his heart, I steady myself for what I’m about to say.
“I’m bound to you, King, and I’ll sit at your feet until you trust me to stand
by your side.” Taking his hands, I turn them, raising them to my lips and
placing a kiss inside as my penance, whispering my prayer. “Forgive me.”
His eyes stare into mine, his hard expression softens. Then he’s gone
again, spinning me around to face the onlookers, one hand on my
breastbone. Lowering his mouth to my ear, he pushes himself into my
backside, his voice a seductive whisper. “Look at their faces—they like
seeing you. The beggar…they can feel your need, Drew, the desire you
have for my cock. I bet they can even smell your desire. Do you want to
show them? Do you want them to see how much you crave my cum?”
My breath is unsteady, my mind catapulting into places it’s never dared
go. The only constant is the urge my body feels. The need for him. The
want for him to touch me. To claim me as his in front of everyone.
“Yes, I want everyone to know you are mine.”
His lips turn up against my ear as he begins to caress my breast, and my
head falls back onto his chest. Moving his other hand to my head, he grips
the back of my hair and pulls it slowly until I follow his lead and dip my
body back sideways. He runs his hand down my chest as a show of his
power.
“They want to see. Show them, Drew…show them who owns this
body.” His hand travels back to my neck as he rights me, tightening ever so
slightly as the other descends from my breast down my stomach, gripping
and kneading my pussy. The sensation is scandalous and welcome.
My moans accompany the movement instantly but are barely audible
over the undulating symphony of our audience. They are uninhibited and
pleading, but I’m uncaring of our audience because my body is his and his
alone. I try and open my eyes, but the sensation of being devoured has me
in its spell, drifting in and out of the waves of pleasure.
“That’s it, baby. I can feel how wet you are through your clothes. That
greedy little pussy can’t help but beg for my cock.”
“King.” My voice is a shudder, a whisper, and a prayer for the man I
love.
“Tell me who owns you, Drew.”
“You. You alone.”
And then he’s gone. My body is instantly cold, shocked back into reality
by the absence of his warm breath and his body, and the seduction of his
words. My eyes spring open, unfolding the scene before me. It really is
Gomorrah: writhing sexuality playing out all around us; palpable sex set off
like firecrackers exploding from every corner; moans and gasping breaths
filling the space like music. We’ve set the stage for lust to feed. My entire
soul is ignited by my urgency to give in to the truth. Our truth.
He is mine. I am his. Lust was just our lie.
I turn to face him, hoping he can feel everything I am in this moment.
Repentant.
His eyes are sad. “Do you see what you’ve done? This is what we are
now. You walked away and took my hope with you.”
I shake my head no, letting out an angry groan. “You can never be you
without me, King. We’re fated. Two people cut from the same cloth. Don’t
you get it? I’m not here for your salvation; I’m here to rejoice with you in
your hell. Have me any way you want me. But you are mine alone.”
His mouth is on mine before I finish. My arms find their place over his
strong shoulders as he wraps a capable arm around my waist, the other up
my back to my neck, lifting me from the ground I wrap my legs around his
waist to be carried backward. We are lips and tongues mixed with passion,
desperation, relief, and anger.
“Out!” His roar echoes through the room as I’m placed on top of the
bar. I never break eye contact, but the sounds of footsteps scurrying from
the remaining spectators exemplify the level of our display. Everyone better
run for their lives because we may destroy this place. I reach for his face,
covered in stubble, letting my fingers skim the prickly hairs, but my hand is
shoved for his to take place around my throat, causing my chin to jerk up.
“You came for me to fuck you? Is this what you want, Drew?” The
voice of the devil.
“You are what I want.”
His hand tightens before letting go, but I grab his wrist, bringing the
strong hand to my mouth. I run my tongue up his middle finger, then suck it
between my lips and let go. His eyes take in my features. There’s such a fire
inside this man, and I know it burns for me. I love him. I know it to my
core. He’s mine and I’m his. My gaze lingers on his lips, watching his
tongue run over the perfect pout and draw up to meet his deep, soulful hazel
eyes. His eyes say everything he can’t. I part my lips to tell him everything
when my attention is drawn to a voice from behind King.
“King, is there anything needed before I lock the doors?”
 My eyes narrow at him even though I’m sure she isn’t anything more
than an employee, but I feel possessive.
“Thank you, Sarah, but I think we’ve got it from here.” His answer is
directed to her, but he is only looking at me. He seems amused by my
reaction. My eyebrows raise at his response, and he drops his grin when I
hold out one finger over his shoulder. I use my other hand to push him back,
then use his shoulders to lower myself down to the floor.
“Who is she to you?” My tone is direct as I take her in.
“She runs my club. I trust her implicitly, and I would be very upset if
she was run out without cause.”
I hear his request, but I want answers. “Do I have cause to run her out?”
I tilt my head up toward his face.
“No.” His back stiffens, worry setting in. Now it’s my turn to be amused
that I make him nervous.
I push past him and walk to Sarah, extending my hand. “It’s a pleasure
to meet you. I apologize for our immaturity. I’d hoped we would meet
under different circumstances.”
She grins, accepting my handshake and nodding like she understands.
“I’ve seen worse. I’m happy you’re here. He needs someone to stand up
to him.” She raises her eyebrows as she turns to leave. Returning her
sentiment, I wink and turn around to King.
He’s leaned back against the bar with a drink in hand, taking me in as I
walk back to him.
“Are you going to offer me one?” I raise a questioning eyebrow.
“No.” He narrows his eyes while taking another sip.
“Then I’ll take yours.” I reach for his glass, but he pulls it back.
“You can’t have anything without my permission anymore.” His voice
is more serious, and the double meaning in his words is thick.
“What are you willing to give me?” Because I want it all.
“I’m undecided.”
I hate the look on his face. It’s fear—he’s afraid I’ll hurt him again.
“So just tell me to stop when I cross a line. I’ll only go as far as you
trust me to go. Deal?”
He nods hesitantly as my hand finds the top button of his shirt. I undo it
slowly, making my way to each before his shirt is completely undone. I
only stop to briefly trace the tattoo on his chest. God, I missed this body.
His twelve-pack casts a heavy shadow from beneath the shirt, and I run my
fingers over his rock-hard stomach and up to his chest, leaning in to kiss the
tatted area.
“This okay?” I ask from pressed lips against his chest, then pull back to
look into his eyes.
“Fucking you isn’t my problem. It’s what to do with you after.”
Smacking his drink down on the bar top, he puts his hands on my waist and
walks me backward away from the bar. He jerks me forward, eliciting a
surprised yelp as I’m hoisted over his shoulder. “See, that’s the problem.”
Bringing his hand down on my ass hard. “The way I see it, this is all you
get. I’ll give you my cock, but that’s it. That’s the only deal I’ll make with
you. Take it or leave it.”
It’s a start.
Without hesitation, I whisper, “I’ll take it. But it won’t be enough.”
He places me back on my feet and looks me up and down. His
expression mirrors my own frustration.
“I hate that fucking outfit. I want you naked. Now.” His words leave
little room for debate.
“What? What’s wrong with my outfit?” I look at him like he’s lost his
mind.
“It restricts access.” Crossing his arms, he grins, waiting for me to
disrobe.
“I’m not taking off my clothes in the middle of this room.” He has lost
his mind.
“We’re alone, and last I checked, it’s a fucking sex club. Take your
goddamn clothes off so I can bury my dick inside that tight, wet pussy,
Drew.”
I’m fucking dripping the minute he growls at me, but I take all the time
in the world, slipping off each shoulder, giving my tyrant his own private
show. The more time I take, the more his jaw tenses. God, I love riling this
man up.
“You realize the longer you take, the harsher the punishment. I will take
out every one of the seconds on that ass tonight.”
“Promises, promises,” I challenge back.
He grabs his cock and adjusts the bulge, groaning with the motion. “You
have ten seconds to get it off, then I’m ripping it off myself.” His demeanor
couldn’t be more serious. He will tear this very expensive, amazing outfit
off my body without so much as a second thought.
 “Ten.”
I start on one of my heels, unhitching the ankle strap.
“Nine.”
Finishing, I move to the other.
“Eight.”
The strap around my ankle gets stuck as I start to panic. I’m never going
to make it.
“Seven.”
Fuck it. I rip it off my foot and pull down my right shoulder strap,
starting to shimmy.
“Six.”
I start looking around the room.
“Five.”
I scope out where I could go to buy some more time.
“Four.”
I love this outfit.
“Three.”
Son of a bitch.
“Two.”
Struggling with the zipper, it finally comes loose, and I push my
jumpsuit down to my ankles.
“One.”
I’m breathless, but I feel on fire. My whole body might as well be
vibrating because I’m buzzing like I’ve taken my first hit. He holds his
hand out to me. I take it and step out of my clothes pooled on the floor. I
stand on my tiptoes to avoid the cold floor.
“You’re gorgeous. But you’re still covered.”
My eyes grow wide because I know exactly what he wants, but I will
not lose another pair of delicates to this monster. I pull my hand from his,
but he doesn’t let go. I try again, stepping away, but he holds tight, a
Cheshire grin coming from his predatory face.
“King,” I say, trying to pull back again. “Don’t you dare. I’ll kill you.
They’re my favorites.”
His grin deepens and he winks with that mischievous look he gives
when he’s about to do something sneaky. We stay in a tug-of-war until I
wiggle my hand free and break for it, running as fast as I can toward the
bank of couches at the far end of the room.
 “King!” I scream as I’m lifted off my feet and twirled around, held off
the ground against a velvet wall. The material feels smooth on my skin as
he slowly slides me down to my feet.
“I always get what I want, Drew.” Cupping his hand over my breast, he
slowly rips the lace away from my nipple until the whole cup is ripped
open, exposing my entire breast. My breathing hitches at the final rip.
“So beautiful,” he whispers, tracing the areola and making the skin
pucker. He cups my breast, bringing his mouth down to taste my hard bud.
Sucking hard, he lets go with a pop.
“Turn around.”
As I do, he grabs the back of my bralette and rips it open, causing me to
jump from the shock. He slips the bra from my shoulders and reaches
around the front to remove it completely.
“Hands on the wall.”
Oh shit. Biting my lip, I squeeze my eyes with anticipation, hoping he’s
going to do what I think he is.
“I told you I would punish you for all your teasing. Spread your legs.” I
do, and he begins to shimmy my panties down my thighs, so I step together
to make it easier to take them off. Grabbing my ass hard, he halts my
movement. “I said, spread your legs, Drew. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
My body writhes against the squeeze on my ass cheek, and I push back
into it for more. I swear I could come right now. I widen my stance a bit.
“More.”
I widen my stance again.
“More.”
I’m not sure what purpose this serves until I take another step out and
feel the sting against my thighs from my panties pressing into my skin,
making me gasp.
“Bend over.”
I walk my hands down the wall until I am bent over and open for the
world to see, staring at a red velvet wall. I want that crack so damn bad that
I can barely focus to keep my eyes open.
“Hold on tight, baby.”
That’s when I feel the first swipe against my rear. He’s using my bra to
whip my bottom. I groan at the contact. It’s not too painful, just jolting…in
all the right places. I can feel the hum, the need for more build in my body
as he whips me two, three more times.
 “My dick is so hard looking at this ass begging me for more.”
I realize I’m on my tiptoes, raising my ass for his strike, but I’m gone
with need. I hear the zipper of his trousers and feel his hands on my hips as
he rams his cock inside of me without warning.
“Yes!” I scream as my body starts to quake with desire. “Yes, please…”
“Not yet, Drew. Don’t come—I want to see your face.” Grabbing my
hair, he twists my head so that I’m looking over my shoulder. “Who owns
this pussy?”
“You do.” I’m breathless being owned by his cock at a torturous rate.
I’m truly being fucked to death.
“For how long, Drew? Say it!” His arms snake under me to hold my
sagging weight as I turn to jelly. My limbs are unable to hold me up any
longer as my orgasm begins to take over my body.
My answer escapes as a stuttered cry, accented by the pounding my
pussy is being given. “Always, King. Always.”
“Mine” is all he roars out as he empties himself inside of me, my own
body convulsing from the power of my orgasm.
We’re both panting as he rests his head against my back before righting
us both, pulling my panties back up. Turning me around, he puts both hands
on my face. “It’s not enough,” he says solemnly. It’s not enough to fix us
and never enough to satisfy us.
“It will never be enough.” I put my hands over his, bringing our lips
together.
“You’re dangerous for me, but I’m more dangerous for you.” His eyes
are sad as he pulls back, opening them hazily. It’s as if he’s saying goodbye
to me.
“You’re my reason. Take everything, break me. Figure out a way to
forgive me, King, because I know what I want. Don’t stand in the way of
us.”
“Stop. It’s too late, Drew.”
Pushing my hands away, he backs away, retreating into himself.
“No, it’s not. You will listen because what I have to say is important,
and you will stand there and listen, dammit.” My voice is demanding. He
rakes his hands through his hair and begins to pace the room, reminding me
of a caged animal—beautiful on the outside but deadly.
“My head was so fucked. I had just ended things with Nick, and
meeting you sent my world upside down. I was so afraid that I couldn’t see
things clearly, that I was making a decision based on lust, and I didn’t want
to find myself drowning in regret a year later. But…”
“I get it, Drew. I understood that night. You think I’m just another guy
that will break your heart or treat you like shit. You didn’t trust me; you
didn’t believe in what we could be.” He waves me off as he walks back to
the bar. So, I follow, my anger increasing with each step.
“You aren’t hearing me, King. I trust you.” I slap my hand down on the
bar to get his attention. “I didn’t trust me. I wanted to be right in my head; I
wanted to be able to be me, for you. Goddammit, I just needed a breath so
that I could be here, all of me, not the fragile broken version I was. I needed
to tie up loose ends so I could start again.” I let out a breath and take the
drink he’s poured for himself from his hands and tip it back, downing it in
one burning gulp.
He grabs the glass from my hands and pours himself another drink. “I
don’t do that… what we did. I just fuck.” This time it’s him gulping down
the scotch. “I don’t talk or cuddle or remember what the hell anyone’s hair
smells like…” He takes a strand of my hair between his fingers and lets it
slip through. “And I don’t talk about my mother to anyone. Ever.” He walks
a few steps away, before turning to look at me. “I can count the number of
people I trust on one fucking hand, but you breeze into my Church and it
took twenty-four hours to have me willing to kill for you. You don’t know
what I’m capable of. You don’t know who you’re making a deal with.”
That’s it—he’s holding me away because I make him feel vulnerable,
and he isn’t a man that can afford to feel that way. He’s wrong about one
thing: my eyes are wide open to the man in front of me. I feel the weight of
what he is capable of, and I still want him. Everything comes into focus,
and I know what I have to do.
“I don’t care. I want you. I’ll take you any way I can get you. But I’m
here, King. Always. Just give me tonight. You asked me for one night, one
night to win my heart. Give me the same. One night. You have nothing to
lose. Come on, I’m standing here practically nude…cut a girl a break.” I
cock a hip, placing my hand on it, slightly jutting my chest out, and grin.
Looking at me for a hard moment, he pours another drink but only
drinks half, handing the other to me. “You’ve got one night, gorgeous.”
My smile mirrors his as I grab the drink and down it, sealing our deal.

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WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I gotten myself into? I’m incapable of saying no to her.
Every time she looks at me with those big blue eyes and that pouty mouth,
I’m done. My judgment is seriously impaired, but moreover, my heart is in
real jeopardy of dedicating itself to beating only for her. Fuck. Who am I
kidding—it’s been beating only for her since we met.
I told myself it was just an itch to scratch; then I reasoned that lust was
just a strong fucking emotion. I’m a man and men think with their dicks too
often, but she’s never been that. The moment I laid eyes on her, I was
compelled to be next to her. It felt crazy, as if I wasn’t in control of my own
body. Even now, while I wait for her in the ladies’ room, I want to bang the
door down just to be near her. I’m losing my mind.
“Drew,” I bellow out in the empty space, my voice carrying through the
room.
“So impatient.” She laughs and rolls her eyes, zipping up the side of her
jumpsuit. God, she’s fucking sexy. All legs and attitude. I gave into her the
minute she walked back into the damn club. I lashed out trying to hurt her,
but she saw right through my bullshit. I needed her to see through it, to fight
for me, for us. I needed to know she understood the depth of what I feel. I
wanted to put up a bigger fight, but she’s right; I wouldn’t be able to live
with myself if I hurt her.
“I am impatient. The clock is ticking, and you’re still my least favorite
person.” I turn to hide my grin.
“Dick.” She slaps my arm when she reaches me.
“God you’re insatiable, gorgeous. How can you be ready again so
quickly?”
“Stop it. I was calling you a dick, not asking for it, but I think you know
that.”
I shrug and grab my jacket from the bar top as I head toward the door.
“You better pick up the pace. It’s creepy when the lights go off.” She speeds
up to grab hold of my arm, as I chuckle. “Where to?” I ask her as we exit
the doors and I turn to lock them. She seems lost in thought as we walked
down the four steps to the tree-lined sidewalk. “I assume you have a plan
since you are wooing me and all.” Looking at her standing in the silhouette
created by the night and the streetlights makes me want to pull her close
and kiss her.
She places her hand on my chest and rubs gently. “Yes, I do. We are
going to my house.” Her faux confidence is cute; she doesn’t have a plan.
“Ah, I see, because we went to mine before, so now it’s yours…got it.”
Without thinking, I tuck my arm around her waist, pulling her close. It’s a
natural instinct but one that makes me wish for her the minute we will
inevitably disconnect.
She looks up at me, and I can see the hope in her eyes. Breaking
contact, she looks around and then back to me questioningly. “Should we
call a cab, or do you have your driver close by?”
“Driver, but I thought we could walk for a while.” My arm squeezes her
waist as we walk. “Truth or Dare?”
Her lips curl into a knowing smile. “Truth.”
“Tell me something nobody else knows,” I challenge.
Leaning into me, she wraps both arms around my middle, snuggling
into my chest as we walk. “Something nobody knows? Not even my mom
or dad?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“That I’m falling for you.” Her voice is a quiet sincerity.
“Doesn’t count. I already knew that. Like recognizes like, sweetheart.” I
feel her smile against my chest. I would do anything to keep it there.
 “Well then, I’ll guess I have to dig deeper,” she chuckles.
“By all means. That’s the point of this little game. I want your deepest,
darkest secret.” Her body feels warm against mine.
“I’m scared that at the end of this night, you won’t let go of your fear
and I will live the rest of my life knowing I’ll never be as happy as I
could’ve been.”
Fuck, this girl and her goddamn honesty.
“Same.”
We walk in silence, sitting in our moment of truth. Lust will always be
the lie we tell ourselves if we can’t find our way to love. I just need a sign.
My cell buzzes from my jacket pocket, and Drew’s head pops up off my
chest with a giggle. “You’re buzzing.” I smile down and disentangle myself
to grab it. Looking down at the screen, I roll my eyes. “Wait, King…who is
it?” she asks.
“My little brother,” I say loud enough for him to hear as I answer.
“Only by three minutes” is said in unison by both of them, making me
smile and laugh. “What, Luca?”
“Hello to you too. What the fuck happened tonight? Why did the club
close early?”
Her eyes are curious as she watches me listen.
“Drew happened. Don’t ask anything else. I’m taking a stroll with my
girl, and I don’t want to be interrupted.”
Your girl? is mouthed from those perfect lips, and I realize my slip.
“Aw shit, your girl? I have to know what happened. Put her on the
phone.”
She begins motioning for me to hand her the phone, and I shake her off.
“Absolutely not, dickhead. You stay as far away as possible. You met
her for five minutes and you’ve already poisoned her.” I smile down to her.
“What is she saying? She wants to talk to me, doesn’t she? Ha, put her
on…” I hang up while he’s still speaking and step back, narrowing my eyes
at her. This moment, this goddamn moment. It’s making my chest tight…
it’s perfect.
“What?” Her eyes are bright, and just looking at her in this moment, I
know it. She’s it for me; our fates were decided the first night we met. I’m
done fighting it. My heart and mind can’t be at war anymore. My desire for
her is too intense, and I give. Leaning down, I kiss her tenderly because I
am a man in love with this woman. Fuck everything else. I don’t care if it’s
too soon or a lie. I’d rather live in this lie than in any truth she isn’t a part
of. The look on her face is all I need to know I’ve made the right decision.
Swiping my phone back open, I call the driver to pick us up and then
Luca again. He answers with way too much excitement.
“Can you stop being such a girl right now? I need you to check on the
club tomorrow night. I’m busy.” I don’t wait for his answer, knowing he’s
all too happy to help me. Looking down at Drew’s questioning face, I wink.
“Change of plans. Let’s run by your house and grab your things. All the
good toys are at my place.”
“Done,” she answers, pointing to the car driving up for us. It pulls to a
stop, and I open the door for her, slapping her ass as she climbs in. I fucking
love that ass. Before she can rattle off her address to George, he starts in the
direction of her home.
“Uh, what? Something you want to share?” She motions to George, and
I’m caught off guard by her question until I realize my mistake. My grin
returns in anticipation of her irritation.
“Is there a question you’d like me to answer?” Her lips purse at my
nonchalance.
“Yeah, buddy, how about how the hell do you know my address?” My
eyes are drawn to her crossing her legs and the way they slide one over the
other so smoothly. I imagine what they would be like sans clothes, and it
makes me want to run my tongue up her thighs to where they meet.
“I paid someone to find it, along with your phone number, workplace
address, and relationship status. By the way, you’re a little liar, Miss VP.
Like I said, gorgeous and smart.”
The sweet sound of her laughter fills the car. “Ha! I didn’t lie. I omitted
some of the facts. It’s a gray area.” She shrugs.
“Gray area my ass. Plus, I told you I was going to stalk you. You
basically gave me all the prep work, and remember I’m lazy, so I needed
someone else to do the rest.” My hand takes its place on her leg.
“True, but you’re still the biggest liar. ‘Not much but enough’ was quite
the downplay of its own.” Her impersonation of me draws my laughter, and
I reach between her thighs to tickle her, making her wild. “Stop it,” “Oh my
god,” and “Quit, I’m going to pee” echoes through the car until I pull her
into my arms, brushing the hair from her face.
“Jesus, if you even knew what I want to do to you right now…”
“I’d let you,” she finishes.
 “Would you?” I challenge, knowing if she knew what was in my head
she would run for the hills. It’s the same thing that was in my head the night
I tried to take her away. My body is filled with the need to say what I crave.
“Yes, anything…” Her eyes bore into mine, and I know she isn’t lying.
“Truth or Dare, gorgeous.” I’ll never choose dare; I don’t trust myself or
you plays on loop in my head. Choose dare, my eyes implore her.
“Dare.” Her face is filled with the challenge I hope she wants to take.
She’s perfect.
“Marry me.”
I’ve never held my breath so hard. What the fuck did I just say? She
hasn’t moved from my arms or responded, and we just sit here, our eyes
deadlocked on each other. The more time spent in silence, the more I want
to fuck her into submission.
She pushes up to look at me, eyes filled with anger. “Fuck you, King.
This isn’t a game. We aren’t a game. You want me? You fucking ask me for
real.”
I reach for her hand, and she swats me away, so I grab for it more
forcefully and pull her back toward me. “Quit it. Look at me.” She’s wild,
the anger running through her veins making her the sexiest hellion I’ve ever
seen. “Marry me.” I watch her eyes blink as they start to well up.
“I said marry me. Drive me crazy, make me mad with desire, just never
leave me or I’ll burn this city to the goddamn ground. Marry me and I’ll
worship you until I die. Marry me and I’ll make sure anyone that even so
much as coughs in your direction regrets breathing. Marry me so that I can
finally start to live…I love you, Drew Matthews.”
“Yes, yes, Dominic.” She climbs across my lap to straddle me, planting
kisses all over my face, whispering her love to me. “When? Tonight?
Tomorrow? Next month?” Her excitement is enough to make me want to
recreate this for her every day of our lives.
“Tonight. Let’s go to Vegas, tonight. We’ll be married by morning, back
home in bed by tomorrow night.”
“Done. George, change of plans…we need a plan,” she calls over her
shoulder before bringing her lips back down to mine. “I love you, Dominic
King.”

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THE SPARKLE FROM MY WIFE’S finger keeps catching the light and making the
cabin of our private plane sparkle like a disco ball. I’m jealous of her sleep.
I can’t still. I just want to look at her face. This feeling is fucking deep,
rooted into my soul. It’s a belonging I’ve never experienced. We said our
vows in front of Elvis and promised to love, honor, and revere each other.
She refused to say obey; it’s one of the many reasons I love her. Now we sit
on our private flight home to Chicago. She sleeps, and I work to make sure
our lives transition smoothly.
My email dings, alerting me to a new message from my lawyer. I’m
fairly certain they’ve all lost their minds with this news, seeing as we wed
without any protection for my assets. I remember when Luca was married; I
made sure he protected himself from being robbed blind, but then again, I
don’t have a very high opinion of Shelby. I would lay down my life for
Drew, but my brother doesn’t share that kind of devotion for his wife. He
was a stand-up guy in a difficult situation. His only love is Ella, and he’s a
damn good father.
I read the email to see they have some paperwork for me and Drew to
sign, and will leave it with an associate until I arrive this evening. After
closing down my email, I pull out my phone, unsure of how I am going to
handle telling my brother. He’s going to be such a girl about this, pissed off
I didn’t have a wedding. The thought irritates me.
“Why does my husband look so perturbed?”
I raise my head to see Drew stretched out like a cat.
“Well, because my lawyers are being a huge pain in the ass, and I still
don’t know how to tell Luca.”
“Aww, look at you. A problem you can’t solve by yelling or fucking
someone. Okay, let me help. First, whatever the lawyers want me to sign,
I’m fine with. I don’t want any of your money. Two, let’s throw a dinner
party tomorrow night. At your place, outside in the garden. We’ll invite our
nearest and dearest and share the news.” She claps her hands together as a
show of her solution superpowers.
“You are remarkable. You know that?” Unbuckling, I lean across,
trapping her into her seat, and begin a slow and seductive assault on her
neck. My dick is already hard and unwilling to stand down as she pushes
me back to my seat. Growling my displeasure, I take my seat again,
adjusting my very hard cock.
“Behind you.” She laughs as I look to my right at the flight attendant.
“Go away,” I bark, ascending back onto my wife.
Ducking her head, she apologizes and asks for privacy from the
cockblock.
“Dominic King. Do not be rude to people. It makes you an asshole.”
Her failed attempt at condemnation is cute. Ignoring her, I go back to
kissing her neck.
“I am an asshole,” I mumble, moving up to her jawline.
“No. You’re sweet and gentle and kind and thoughtful and really
romantic, but most of all, you’re mine.” We’re nose to nose, and I push my
lips out to touch hers gently.
“I am.” It’s not a question. I am hers. I’ll always be an asshole, a
foreboding prick, but she rules my heart. Her alone.
“Unbuckle your belt. Pull up your skirt and take off those goddamn
panties.”
“I’m not wearing panties,” she purrs while spreading her legs open until
I can see the glisten.
“Fuck me, you’re gorgeous.” Reaching for her thighs, I grab them
roughly and jerk her forward, dropping to my knees burying my head into
her pussy. Each moan and groan increases my need to devour her sweet clit.
I suck, lick, and nip at her pussy until she’s almost pulled all my hair from
my head.
“Let them hear you, baby,” I hum into her clit as she grips my head,
screaming my name through the cabin. I kiss the inside of her shaking
thighs and position myself back in my seat, watching her right herself as
she smooths down her skirt. She looks thoroughly worked over with her
pink cheeks and wild hair.
“Jesus, King, I think they heard me on the ground too.” She giggles, not
at all embarrassed. She’s perfect. I press the call button, and the flight
attendant walks to our chairs.
“Sir?”
“Water?” I aim my question at Drew.
“Yes, please.” She smiles back, opening a magazine casually, her body
giving a little shiver.
“Two,” I say to the attendant. As she walks away, Drew’s eyes find
mine and drift down directly to my cock.
“Are you thinking of returning the favor, dear wife?”
“I haven’t stopped thinking of putting your cock in my mouth since we
boarded. It’s a tiny little fantasy of mine.”
“Forget the waters!” I yell out, and she starts to laugh, craning her neck
to confirm our guest is gone, hearing her mumble into the cockpit
something about how we won’t stop having sex. When she looks back to
me, I add, “Well then, baby, by all means, use me to fulfill your fantasy.”
It may be hers, but it’s quickly becoming mine. My dick is
uncomfortably hard watching her drop down to her knees in front of me.
She runs her hands up my thighs, digging her nails in as she goes up, and I
adjust in my seat, aroused by the sensation.
“This is easily becoming my most favorite mode of transportation,
gorgeous.” She bites her bottom lip, undoing my belt and unzipping my
trousers. My heavy cock bobs forward, and she wraps one hand around,
twisting it in a circular motion while she jacks it up and down.
“Fuck.” I let out a hiss as the sensation makes my whole body pull
inward. “That feels so good, baby.” I open my eyes and watch her lick her
hungry lips. “Hungry for my cock?”
She lowers her head pulling her hand down to the shaft, and traces the
head of my cock with her tongue, licking off the precum.
 “Jesus, you’re a fucking gift from heaven. I don’t deserve you.” My
head falls back onto the seat as she wraps her warm mouth around the head
and then takes me down to the base. I love her for so many reasons, but no
gag reflex is definitely tied with the number one spot. Her head begins to
bob, and the sweet suction from her mouth paired with her hand jacking me
at the same time has my balls drawn up tight. I want to stay like this
forever. She sucks and pumps my wet cock, and I run my fingers through
her hair, gripping it at the back of her head, and take over. She grips the
sides of my stomach, under my shirt, digging her nails into my skin as I
fuck her mouth.
I grind my dick into her warm, wet mouth, envisioning her taking in my
juices. “Swallow,” I demand as she grips me tighter, greedy for me as I
fulfill her wish with a groan, hunching my back from the intensity of the
orgasm. Straightening back up, I let out a breath and smile, letting go of her
hair. My dick falls onto my pants, spent and sated. Sitting back on her heels,
she smiles, and I lean forward to kiss her lips.
“You’re an angel,” I whisper.
“Sure, you say that now when I just had your dick in my mouth. Give it
a month.” I’d give it a lifetime, but that will never get old.
Our flight attendant returns upon me calling her again, bringing waters
and asking for us to stay buckled and seated because we are beginning out
descent. I get the clear impression she doesn’t want to deal with our
newlywed behavior. I couldn’t give a fuck, but my wife seems to want me
on my best behavior, so I oblige.

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SITTING IN THE BACK OF the black SUV, I watch the lights blur outside as we
drive to the attorney’s offices from the airstrip. It’s a little past 6:00 p.m.,
and I’ve already checked in with Gretchen to tell her to clear her schedule
for tomorrow for dinner. I’ve also sent my parents messages, trying to nail
down a good time for a phone chat. Neither are particularly busy, but I’d
rather kill two birds with one stone.
I feel the warmth of King’s hand on my thigh as he checks his phone. I
can’t wait until we are home, in bed. “Hey, where are we living?” Looking
up, he stares at me with the same bewildered expression.
“You pick.”
“Me pick? Why me pick?”
“Because this is essentially your city. My home is in New York, but I’ll
relocate anywhere you choose, gorgeous.” He turns his attention back to his
phone, as if moving to an entirely different state is a normal day.
I scrunch my nose, trying not to beam at him because I’ve smiled way
too much in one day. How is this real life? “I love the townhouse. Let’s live
there, but we need furniture. Last I remember, you’re going with a super-
minimalist feel.”
 Putting his phone down, he smiles at me with his megawatt grin,
making me feel like it’s Christmas morning. His joy should be bottled and
sold. “Quit looking at me like that. I’m trying to plan, and you’re up to
something in that head of yours.”
“I am.” He grins, pulling my hand to his mouth and flipping it over to
kiss the inside of my wrist.
“Why do you do that? Always kiss the inside of my wrists like that…”
“Do you dislike it?” His thumb delicately skims my wrist.
“No, it’s the opposite. I love it. But I’m just curious.”
Holding his thumb down on my wrist for a moment, his eyes meet
mine. “You feel that? It’s your heartbeat. I like placing my kisses there; I
hope they travel all the way to your heart.”
I scramble to his side of the car and wrap my arms around his neck,
kissing him hard. “Who knew my big bad alpha husband could say things
that knock me right on my ass. How long has it been since I said I love
you?”
“Hmmm, about ten minutes. You’re heartless.”
I kiss him again between love yous, then retreating from my assault, I
add seductively, “I’m sorry. Never again, my King.” I grind a little into him
to relay my apology more.
“I like that…way too much.” I can’t tell if he means the nickname or the
friction.
“Kiss me. King.” His name comes out in a moan.
“Where?” he breathes into my neck. Jesus, he will be the death of me.
All my parts are begging for attention. I open my mouth to speak, but he
interrupts me.
“Too late, gorgeous. We’re here.” He pats my ass to get me moving, and
I begrudgingly climb off his lap. He exits the car first, taking a call as he
gets out.
“Ma’am.” My attention shoots to George’s smiling face. He makes
himself so invisible I keep forgetting he’s around.
“Yes,” I answer, curious why he’s asked for my attention so formally.
“Congratulations. I couldn’t help but overhear.” He tips his hat to me.
“Thank you, but make sure to call me Drew…I’m not old enough for
ma’am yet.” His laugh echoes through the car as my door is opened, and
I’m offered my husband’s hand and his curious stare.
“What’s funny?”
 “None of your business.” I fall into step with him as we walk into the
building together past the glass-walled architecture.
“Have it your way.” He motions to his right to a bank of doors. “This
way.” I pivot to look in the direction he’s leading me, and I get a glimpse of
us in a tinted panel. My heart stops for a moment.
“Somebody pinch me,” I whisper to myself.
“Later,” he whispers back into my ear. Fuck, I’m wet.

Inside the offices, few lights are on, but King seems to know where we are
going, so I follow giddily. We stop every three feet for him to pull me into
another dark corner, taking advantage of the anonymity, letting our hands
roam and kisses grow wild before he pulls me away to try and make it the
rest of the distance.
We make it to the end of the hall, and he pulls me taut to his body, one
armed wrapped around my waist, my hands resting on his chest. He touches
his lips to mine so light I almost don’t feel it. “What’s mine is yours; sign,
don’t sign. It makes no difference to me.”
“I love you.”
“You said that already.” His cocky grin complements the twinkle in his
eye. Giving the door a rap, he pushes it open with force, allowing me to
enter first, except when I walk through the door, the sight of a face stops me
in my tracks.
“Drew?”
“Nick.”
King’s hand slides across my back, his fingers curling around my waist
cementing me to his side. His touch reminds me to breathe. I take a deep
breath and look at King. “It seems your law offices now employ my ex.”
King’s face is fixed on mine. Past the smile and the polite sentiments,
he’s looking to see how I’m truly feeling. “Strange, I’ve never met…
name?” The commanding tone makes my breath hitch, but I look to Nick to
see him looking incredibly nervous.
Suits you right, asshole.
 “Drew, what’s going on? Why are you here with Mr. King?” He seems
genuinely confused.
“I asked for your name.” King’s voice becomes darker, more serious. “I
see you know exactly who I am. Then you’ll know that making me wait for
my answer isn’t in your best interest.”
Nick adjusts his suit jacket, giving away how afraid he is in this
moment. Who exactly is my husband? The thought intrigues me more than
it probably should.
“I apologize… I, uh, I’m sorry. I’m the new associate here. Nick
Taylor.”
“You can refer to my wife by her married name, Mr. Taylor.”
Nick’s shock is written all over his face, and his eyes burn into my half
grin with anger.
“Your wife? Is this some kind of joke? Forgive me, Mr. King, but I am
familiar, very familiar, with your wife. Before she was your wife, she was
my girlfriend.”
His smug face makes me sick. I hate the look of him even now. Bastard.
King tips his fingers to my chin, drawing it to his face, and mine softens
when I look at him. “There she is…” He kisses my forehead. “What would
you like, gorgeous? Would you like me to make him disappear?” He tilts his
head, looking deep into my eyes. It takes me a moment to answer because I
keep searching his face for validation that I’m misunderstanding him. It
sounds as if King is asking me if I want Nick to disappear—as in the kind
of disappear that has your face on a milk carton.
“No.” I let out a tiny laugh. He’s a psychopath, and I married him. I
don’t care. Even more disturbing, I love him so much more in this moment.
“He lives another day. I’m sure there is someone out there that wants him
alive.”
King’s face contorts to convey a “maybe.” “Just bring me the papers for
my beauty to sign, and let’s pretend none of this ever happened.” His eyes
on me, always on me, as if nobody else exists.
“Gladly.” Nick mumbles something to himself as he grabs a file from
the desk and begins to walk it over.
“Stop.” King breaks from his assessment of me to look at Nick and
peels his hands from my waist. I can feel his anger, the rage always lying in
wait. It’s calculating, strategic, and possibly cruel, and it’s found an
opportunity to show itself. I should stop him. Instead, I look past my
vicious husband and straight at Nick’s face. He looks terrified. He should
be.
King’s voice is smooth, deadly. “You’ll have to forgive my manners, but
since you seem to know my wife, we should properly meet.” Extending his
hand, he approaches Nick. It’s funny; I always considered Nick a big guy,
but King makes him look like a boy. Not just in his physical size but in
demeanor. Dominic is all male, testosterone, and sex appeal. Nick looks like
a college frat guy. Goddamn, I love my husband.
I wait for King to speak, but the two men stand in silence, just shaking
hands, not even really shaking. I crane my neck to look closer because it’s
going on for longer than expected, and then I notice Nick’s face is tense,
red, and he’s letting out small breaths as King leans in and whispers
something in his ear. King’s hand is strained and white; he’s crushing
Nick’s with force. When he lets go, Nick pulls back, his breath coming out
in a rush, and his other hand grabs the wrist of his injured one. Nick’s eyes
dart to mine, and I can’t help the look of satisfaction that grows on my face.
Try pinching me now, dick.
King leans back, half sitting on the desk, grabbing the file we are to
sign. He extends it to Nick and nods. “Go on, give this to my wife.”
Nick’s face looks pleading as King crosses his arms, jaw tensed. Nick
stands for a moment and then reaches out to take the file with his good
hand. Turning his body to face me, he keeps his face to the ground and puts
the file in his mouth, slowly kneeling down on one knee, then both. My
eyes give away my shock as he begins to crawl using his good hand.
My eyes shoot to King, who just gives me a wink, and back down to
Nick in this pathetic position. One word and all of this stops; one word and
I can put a stop to the most humiliating scene I’ve ever witnessed. It’s so
different—I remember crawling to King, but it never felt embarrassing or
degrading because our intention was tied to our love. King has a singular
intention: cruelty. I could stop it. One fucking word. But none come to
mind; in fact, all I can think of are all the times I was made to feel this low,
this disrespected. I was the one forced to beg for his approval. I was his
bitch, and now he’s mine. I watch him struggle all the way to my feet.
Emboldened by my power trip, I squat down and pull the file from his
mouth, pausing for a moment to take in the mix of fear and disgust on his
face. “Good puppy,” I say, patting his head. I stand to look at my husband,
who holds up an index finger, letting me know he’ll be a minute. I nod and
walk out the door and through the offices out of the building, straight to the
waiting car.

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WATCHING DREW DEBASE THIS LITTLE fucker might go on my highlight reel
for the rest of my life. If I thought for a moment she didn’t want this, I
would have just taken out my vengeance in private, but my dark angel
exceeds even my own expectations. She’s ruthless. She’ll need that grit. I
know she has her questions about why people seem afraid or why they
know me before we meet. But I need to explain when the time is right.
However, after tonight I know she won’t scare easily.
My attention drops back to Nick, watching him stand and brush off the
knees of his trousers.
“You’ve gotten what you want, Mr. King. I hope we can just forget this.
Please just forget my name. I’ll stay away and make sure to never be
involved with any of your business here at the firm. I swear.”
Pushing to stand, I grab a steel letter opener off the desk, turning it
around on my hand, testing the sharp point against my finger. “I prayed
we’d meet the moment she told me about you.” I walk toward him using my
size to intimidate him. “Does that frighten you, Nick? Knowing that I know
all the cruel moments she lived through with you?”
“Yes.” The fear in his voice is satisfying. He should be afraid; I would
do anything for her.
 “And you know what I can do to you. More importantly, you should
know I would do anything for her. Including take your life.” His body
begins to shake with the tears that start.
“Please don’t kill me.” His pleas are met with my satisfied smile. In
another life, he would already be dead.
“I’m glad we understand each other. Lucky for you, she wants you
alive. That’s why you’re still standing here. Be a better guy, Nick. Don’t be
the kind of little prick that draws my attention again.” I reach up and pat his
cheek as he starts to cry, still holding the letter opener in my hand. “This is
a new lease on life for you. Dry your tears. Nobody likes a crier.” He nods
pathetically before I add, “But if you become a problem for her, if you look
in her direction, I won’t just kill you.” I grab his hand, placing the opener in
it, and forcefully close his hand around it, feeling the pop in the skin when
it pierces his palm, making his cries grow louder. “I will make you suffer
before I do. I’ll take everything and everyone from you until you do the
dirty work for me. Do you understand?” My words aren’t just a threat—
they’re a promise.
His sobs grow louder, and he looks to the large wet stain spreading over
the front of his pants.
Looking down, I shake my head. “Clean yourself up,” I say as I walk
out of the room.
I need to calm myself down before I get to the car. She doesn’t deserve
this life, but she’s my wife, my love, and I won’t let her go. We need this
conversation to happen now. When I reach the car, I jump in, trying for
nonchalance when I’m assaulted by slaps against my shoulder.
“Ow, shit, stop it.” Grabbing her wrists, I try and settle her. “What the
fuck is that for?”
“You were gone for forever. I was worried and about two seconds from
coming back or sending George, who, by the way, carries a damn gun.
You’ve got some things to explain. Now, King.”
I hate keeping this from her. She needs to know.
Letting go of her wrists, I give a side glance to George, who just shrugs.
“Home,” I growl at him and turn back to her. “We’ll talk when we get
home.” My voice is harsh and leaves little room for argument, but I’m sure
she’ll find some.
“Don’t you order me around. I said now.” Always so damn feisty. She
isn’t going to let this go, forcing my hand.
 “Out,” I bark, causing the car to pull to the side of the road and George
to exit just as quickly. The shock on her face is appropriate. “This
conversation is for us; the fewer ears, the better. Do you understand? I mean
it.” I’m relieved at the understanding that crosses her face.
“You have my word.” Her voice is serious and honest. I trust her
implicitly, but I feel restless starting the conversation.
“On second thought, let us take the walk.” She nods in agreement,
grabbing the handle and exiting first onto the sidewalk. I follow behind and
nod to the door, looking at George. “Stay close.”
“Absolutely.” He takes his place at the steering wheel.
I offer Drew my arm, and she wraps her hand around my bicep. We set
off down the empty sidewalk, walking quietly for a block, in and out of the
shadows cast by the streetlamps. This quiet in the city feels as ominous as
the reality I’m about to share. We take a turn down another quiet street, and
I release my tension with a breath.
“Whatever it is, it won’t change how I feel.” Her words fill the spaces
of doubt I didn’t even know I had.
“I have a large family…the kind of family that has connections, debts to
be paid from a lot of people.” She nods her understanding, letting her eyes
grow a little wider. “My father left that family so that he could have a
normal life, outside the morally flexible activity. He was dead to them. So
were we, until they died.” She reaches out for my hand and squeezes it. Her
gesture makes me feel guilty for what I’m about to say. “I did what I had to
do to protect Luca, and sometimes that meant living in a grayer area. You
have to understand, I was a very angry boy that became an angry man,
which made me dangerous.”
“Made? Makes…” She levels her stare at me.
“Yes, you’re correct—makes me a dangerous man, and my uncle was all
too happy to use my issues to his advantage. He helped fuel a monster
willing to help him rise to power, but he’s my family. I would’ve helped
him regardless. Those who live on the edges of this underbelly understand
just how dangerous I am. I was the man you saw before taking your last
breath.”
The tears falling down her cheeks gut me. “Was or am?”
Fuck, I swore I would never break her, and now I’m scared to death I
have to, but if she wants me, I have to give her all of me. I have to give the
truth. Reaching for her cheek, I wipe the tears away. “Was. But I will
always be a dangerous man. My history can’t be erased, but you saw past
the monster to the man my father created.”
Her gorgeous blue eyes glisten with more tears but never break contact
from mine.
“Tell me how you got that scar by your lip again?” Her smile is her
acceptance.
“Coffee table, but this one—” I raise my hand showing a long white
scar on the side of my palm. “This one was from a knife fight.” She grabs
my hand and kisses my scar, a worried expression falling on her beautiful
face.
“Never again. No more blood.” Turning her attention forward, she
releases my arm and puts her arms across her chest tightly. “You must have
been so lost, so frightened as a child, but you were so brave.” I watch her
walk ahead of me, bound by her own arms and her worry for me as a child.
I want to take it away. I just stand, watching her walk, and then I step into
the shadows of the alley we’ve passed, sinking into the anonymity of the
dark. Just watching her.
“King? Did you hear…” She turns, looking over her shoulder and then
around for me. “King? Where the hell did you go?” She looks side to side,
putting eyes on our car ahead. “King! Goddammit, this is not the time for
fucking games.”
“Are you afraid?” I whisper from the dark. She shoots in my directions,
wild eyes searching the dark, cheeks flushed as understanding settles in.
She needs this as much as I do.
“Never. It’s you that should be afraid. My eyes are wide open, and this
is still my only choice. You’re so scared that you won’t be able to be here in
the light with me, but I’d prefer to join you in the shadows.”
I’ve never loved another person more than I love her.
I know she can’t see me, but her eyes seem to find mine as she walks
directly toward me. The moment she reaches the edge of the darkness, she
halts, nervous, scared by what she can’t see. I watch her eyes and the doubt
in them and see it settle into resolve, so I reach out and grab her waist,
pulling her into the blackness of the alley and pressing my hand over her
mouth. “Shhh. I’m taking what I want, here in this alley. You have to be
quiet, or people will start to investigate…”
Nodding her head yes, I slowly release my hand from her mouth, then
run it down her throat, down farther to her breast. She lets out a small moan
and grabs the front of my shirt. “Quiet, baby, or we’ll have to find you a gag
again.” The thought makes me unbearably hard, and I crash down into her
mouth, mixing tongues and hitting teeth as we claw at each other. She rips
at my suit jacket, pulling it down off my shoulders, but I catch one of her
hands and bring it to the wall, spinning her around to face the brick. Her
hands slap against the building, and her breath is almost as loud.
I press her to the brick wall, grinding my cock against her rear. “I’ll
never be the man you deserve, but I’ll always be the one who loves you
most.”
“And I you.”
Grabbing her by the hair, I pull her head back and attack her neck,
kissing and sucking while she grinds her backside into me over and over.
She uses the wall as an anchor to build the pressure between us. I reach
around and gather her skirt, slipping a finger between her wet, hot folds,
caressing and rubbing her clit. She wraps one arm back around my neck as
we find a rhythm, dry humping in the darkened alley.
“King…” she moans.
“More, I want more,” I growl, possessed by my desire to be inside of
her.
“You can have it all,” she breathes.
I grab her arm, turning her around and pushing her back against the
wall, hitching her right leg up and angling her body just right to thrust my
hard cock inside her. “Jesus, I want to tear you apart, bury myself deep
inside of you.” Pushing in over and over, harder and harder, I set the pace of
my punishing motions, enveloped by her warmth. My cock is strangled by
her own need to swallow me whole inside her. “Fuck, Drew, this is my
home. I want to die inside this pussy. I’m going to fuck you against this
wall and fill you with my cum. I want you to feel it dripping down your leg
as we walk, to serve as my mark. Nobody will ever touch what’s mine.”
“Fuck me, King, mark me. I want you to smell like my pussy as a
warning to anyone that comes close to you. My bark is as big as my bite.”
Her last words come out as a growl as she digs her nails into my shoulders.
We fuck against the wall, hard and fast until she screams out my name,
squeezing my cock with her muscles, milking it for all I can give.
“No more, baby. No more. My past stays buried. This is my vow to
you.” Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her close and kiss the top of her
head.
 “I love you, Dominic King.”
“Never more than I love you, Drew King.”
We walk out of the shadows and to our waiting car. Holding the door
open, she crawls into her seat, and I walk around, rebuttoning my jacket and
taking my place next to her.
“Let’s go.”
George slides back into the streets, rejoining the small traffic.

When we get to the townhouse, we pull up behind the moving van I

arranged to move her things into my home while we were in Vegas. I’m
pleased she’s chosen the townhouse because it was already prearranged. I
kiss the top of my sleeping beauty’s head again and direct George to pay the
guys. “Cash. Only in cash, George. They had to break into her place to get
her shit, so I figure cash is best.” I laugh at his agreement. “Tell them to
come back tomorrow to finish. She needs rest.”
“Will do.” He exits the car before pulling my door open and goes to
handle the guys.
I maneuver out of the car, keeping her in my arms. As we pass the guys
collecting their cash, I give them a nod as I walk past their straightening
backs and removal of hats. Respect is key in life. I may not be a made
member of the Sovrano family, but they’re my blood. Nobody escapes their
blood. I walk up the steps as George breezes past to get the door.
“Anything before I go, King?”
“Not here, but will you swing by and check on Luca tonight? He’s
stopping by the club. Keep him out of trouble,” I say, walking through the
opened door.
“Will do, boss,” he answers, closing it softly so as not to wake Drew. I
grin appreciatively as I walk the stairs to our bedroom. I lay her down and
pull off her shoes, and she stirs awake but only for a moment. Her
exhaustion is evident. I manage to undress her all the way down to her
naked body, then tuck her into the covers placing a kiss on her lips. I exit
quietly, heading down the stairs to my office. I have some calls to make
before the night is done, and I don’t want Drew to wake.
Sitting in my chair, I look at my cell, debating how this call will go. I’m
not afraid of any man, but my uncle is the only man I know capable of more
destruction than myself. But I love the old man. He’s a man created by his
environment, but he always held my father in the highest regard. I think he
was proud of him for being his own man but mostly appreciative of the
sacrifices my father made for him.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” His voice is booming, but still
understating his power. He’s always happy to hear from me.
Despite myself, I laugh. “Good to hear your voice too, Zio. I have
something to discuss with you.”
He grows more serious, and his voice becomes hushed as does all the
background noise. He’s made the room quiet for me. “Maybe we should say
what we need face-to-face. So many ears around…” He’s referring to the
bugs on his phones. Always under investigation.
“No, no, questa è una conversazione gioiosa, tutti possono sapere, anche
i topi.” No, no, this is a joyous conversation, everyone can know, even the
rats. My words are met with his laughter again. “Ma questo li farà lavorare
di più.” But this will make them work harder. I smile at the pleasure he takes
in my joke.
“You hear that, ya bastards? You’ll have to work just a little harder to
figure it out.” His laughter continues and then dies down as he asks, “So
what exactly is this happy occasion you speak of?”
“I got married.” Silence, then a room full of yelling and cheering. He
never does anything half-assed, my uncle. He must have told the room. I
know every man in that room. In a way, they’re the only men I trust and
suspect simultaneously. Never turn a blind eye.
“Thank you, everyone. Zio, I wanted you to know first. You know what
this means for me now. The sacrifices I will make for her.” He will
understand what I mean. He knows he can’t call on me anymore. He hasn’t
in quite a long time, but it’s important to be clear. We settled any debt I had,
and I know as wary of him as I am, he feels the same about me.
I hear the closeness of his voice, indicating our conversation is private
again. “Yes, I understand. Dominic, I know what this would have meant to
your father. He was good, and he would want this for you. I loved him,—
you of all people understand what’s it’s like to have a piece of yourself
reflected back at you. I sacrificed for my brother too, as you did for Luca. I
love you, mio nipote . I’m always here. So live your life without worry.”
You can’t escape your blood, especially in this life, but in another life, I
may have dedicated myself to it, to my uncle and my name.
“Will she take on Sovrano or your mangled American version of King?”
I chuckle at the way he says American. He and my father came over to the
States as teens. He has such a distaste for the place he calls home, always
dreaming of going back to live a simpler life, but this empire has been
rooted in blood and demise. It’s a pipe dream.
“Ah, I was waiting for that question. I think King is close enough for
her. It means the same without the—”
He interrupts with a more serious tone. “It may be the translation,
nephew, but our name is something to fear. Before I die, I would like to see
you use it.”
I’ll never use that name. I don’t have to.
“I think I’ve lived up to my namesake for long enough, don’t you, dear
uncle? Or have you forgotten what I’m really called?” My tone matches his
with just the hint of anger.
“Okay, okay, la tua decisione è tua.” Your decision is yours. I nod to
myself, happy he’s seen his way to reason, “I’m just an old man who is set
in tradition, but I love you, nephew.”
“Grazie, ti amo, troppo zio. Addio.” I love you, Uncle. Goodbye. I end
the call, setting my phone on my desk and leaning back to let out a breath.
A shuffle catches my attention. I stand so quickly, my chair tips back
and topples to the ground.
“Jesus!” Drew screams. “You scared the hell out of me.” She puts her
hands on her chest, now covered by one of my T-shirts.
I reach back and stand my chair back up, turning back to her. “I’m sorry,
baby. Did I wake you somehow? Come here.” She walks over shaking her
head no and wraps her arms around my waist, kissing my chest.
“I didn’t know you could speak Italian.” The curiosity in her voice
makes me nervous. I don’t want to explain my uncle in detail tonight.
“Yep.” My voice is cautious. I won’t lie to her, but I’m hoping for a bit
more time.
“What did you mean by close enough for me?”
Sneaky little wifey.
 “How long were you eavesdropping on me?” I grin at her feigning
innocence. The nerve of this woman—she doesn’t feel guilty at all. The
thought brings me deep pleasure. “You don’t even feel bad for doing it…
admit it.”
“Not even a little. I don’t have secrets from you. You won’t have them
from me.”
“So fucking brave. I’m going to gag you tonight, tie you up, and tease
you until scream and beg to suck my cock.” My dick comes to life at the
thought of her hands above her head, naked and nipple clamped.
“Fai del tuo peggio, amore mio.” Do your worst, my love. I take a step
back, looking into her amused face. It’s not often that someone surprises
me, but she’s managed to shock the hell out of me.
“What…how?”
“I studied Italian in college. Studied abroad too.” She shrugs with a
wink.
“I love you, Drew.”
“Say it in Italian.” Her words are seductive, filled with her desire.
“Ti amerò oltre il mio ultimo respiro.” I will love you beyond my last
breath. I pull her back to me, and our mouths meet in a tangle as I pick her
up, carrying her upstairs to fulfill my promise.

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I WATCH HER SLEEP, WAITING for my own to take me. She’s so peaceful and
content lying here next to me. The moonlight peeking through our bedroom
window illuminates the love bites around her breast, and I reach to trace the
marks before I consider what I’m doing. I love seeing these marks on her.
My claim to her body. I can’t help myself—her body calls to me in such a
forceful way that I’m compelled to lean over and take her perfect pink
nipple into my mouth and suck.
“Mmmmm.” Her body begins to wake. “Again? You’re going to kill
me. Here lies Drew King, fucked to death by her husband.” My laugh fills
the room, and I pull away, dragging her body over to spoon my own.
“Sleep. We have a lifetime of fucking ahead.”
She doesn’t answer, but I listen to her breath become more and more
steady until my own matches her rhythm. We sleep for the first time as
husband and wife.
I don’t know what time it is, but the crashing sound of broken glass has me
jumping out of bed and grabbing my Glock from the nightstand drawer.
“Holy shit, Dominic, what’s going on?” Her eyes are wild, afraid, as she
jumps out of bed, grabbing her clothes to put on.
I point to the closet and hold my finger to my lips to show her to be
quiet. “Go to the safe room, call 911.” My direction is barely above a
whisper.
“Our phones are downstairs. Dominic…” Her eyes well with tears as
she reaches for my free hand.
“Shh, baby. Go in the closet; there’s a safe room behind the shoe rack.
Do it now.” As I give her direction, she shakes her head in protest, not
wanting to leave me.
“King, King, where are you? King!” George’s voice carries through the
house, and I feel relieved yet suspicious.
“Are you alone? I’m upstairs. Why are you breaking in?” I hear him
bounding up the stairs to the bedroom door. Pushing Drew behind me, I
wait for him to walk through the door. Why is he breaking in?
“Oh shit!” he yells as he opens the door and comes face-to-face with the
barrel of my gun. His eyes squeeze shut. “Oh fuck. King—don’t.”
“Why are you breaking into my house?” I hold the gun against George’s
head with my right hand and my left arm wrapped around Drew, who has
snaked her way around my body, holding her head in the opposite direction.
“King, fuck…Jesus, take a breath. Calm down.”
“I’m calm,” I answer, my voice steady.
“That was for me. It’s Luca… King, I’ve been calling, banging on the
damn door. I was afraid someone had gotten to you too.”
What the fuck does “too” mean?
All I see is red. Just raw rage. “What the fuck do you mean ‘Luca’?” I
lunge forward, pushing the gun closer to George’s temple and searching his
terrified face for answers until I see a smaller hand cover my own, trying to
lower my gun.
“Dominic, put the gun down.” I barely make out what she’s saying. My
head swings back between her and George. And I push it to his head harder
as a broken sob escapes my mouth. “I don’t understand, I don’t
understand.” Their mouths are moving, but my head is buzzing like I’m in
some kind of wind tunnel. I drop my hand to look at her face. “I don’t
understand.” Pain racks my chest as I back away, digging the barrel into my
chest, unable to control the sobs coming out.
George takes a cautious step toward me and takes the gun from my
hand, passing it to Drew. He grabs my face, forcing me to focus on him.
“He’s been beaten—real bad, King. He’s not going to make it. We need to
go. Now, because right now he’s still alive. You need to get there.”
I nod, but my body is on autopilot, taking the clothes offered to me by
Drew. We dress quickly and grab our phones from the kitchen. The crunch
of the glass grabs my attention as we walk out of our home and crawl into
our waiting car.
Drew is on the phone. I can’t even concentrate on what she’s doing.
She’s been making calls since we got in the car. I think—I don’t even know
what I think…Luca. Not fucking Luca. It should be me. He’s the better of
us. He deserves to live his life, be a father, grow old. Why would someone
hurt him? He doesn’t have enemies; his life is clean. Why would someone
attack him? A beating is a message. It’s retaliation.
“How,” I whisper, and the car falls silent. I draw my heavy head up to
look at George’s profile in the driver’s seat.
“They grabbed him outside of Church tonight. Beat him and left him for
dead. I went by to check on him like you asked and saw him.” His voice
falters. “King, they left him in the fucking gutter. Left him like some kind
of animal.”
I want to rip the car to shreds, crush the metal with my bare hands. I’m
engulfed with rage and despair; his death will be my death.
This is my fault. He was only there because I was too busy playing
house.
This is my fault. I failed him.
This is my fault. I hate him. I hate myself.
My fists ball up, and I grab at my hair, letting out a guttural scream. My
breathing is as violent as I feel. “Call my uncle. Tell him I want them
brought to me. Alive.” My voice is raw. I scream again, unable to rid
myself of the darkness, so I throw my fists into the back of the seat in front
of me.
“Dominic! Stop! Stop, Dominic!” Drew reaches for me, but I can’t feel
her touch. I stop hitting the chair, my breath labored, hanging my head and
gripping the back of my neck. She wants me to think rationally, be a good
person. She doesn’t understand—if I wasn’t so goddamn preoccupied with
her, I would have kept my brother safe. He was hurt because of me,
probably in place of me. I could’ve kept him safe. It’s the only thing my
father ever asked of me.
“You have to be the one, Dominic. Luca isn’t like us; he doesn’t see the
devil behind people’s smiles. He needs you to protect him. It’s why you came
first. It’s why I came first. We have to protect our brothers. I left so he could
live. It may not have been the best life offered, but I left so he wouldn’t be
robbed of his life for the sake of power and control. You have to protect
Luca above all. He is your blood, your famiglia. Promise me, Dominic.”
Shaking my head, I try and rid the memory from my mind. Drew
squeezes my shoulder, and I pull away from her.
“King, don’t do that. Let me be here.”
My anger boils over, hatred and venom erupting from my mouth
seamlessly. “You being here is the goddamn problem. If I hadn’t been so
focused on pussy, my brother wouldn’t be dying in a fucking hospital room
instead of me.” She grabs for my hand again. “Get the fuck off me.” I make
the mistake of looking at her face. Pity. She pities me because I’m dying
along with Luca. “I hate you.” My vision becomes blurry, my sight watered
down by my grief.
She grabs my shirt and jerks me to her, forcing me to look at her. “It’s
okay. Be mad, hate me. It’s okay, baby, it’s okay… It’s not your fault. Let it
out, Dominic. I can take it.” She pulls me to her body, and I go, sinking my
face into her stomach to muffle my wails. I let go, wrapping my arms
tighter around her waist as I do. I grip her body, desperate for an escape
from my hell. My cries eventually calm, but I stay where I am, wrapped in
the woman who would love me through my hatred. I hear her voice drift
through the silence.
“George, when you speak to Dominic’s uncle, tell him to bring these
scumbags to Church. They should take their last breaths mixed with the
gutter water they left Luca in.”
My fallen angel.

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WE ARRIVE AT THE HOSPITAL and make our way to the waiting room of the
ICU. The stench of death is everywhere, permeating the walls and making
my skin crawl. I’m met by a doctor, who explains Luca’s condition and his
chances. I can barely listen. I need to get to him. I’m two seconds from
ending this doctor’s life when Drew speaks up.
“Excuse me, Doctor, perhaps you could tell me the particulars and we
could get Dominic in to see his brother?”
“Yes, yes of course.” A nurse motions for me to follow her back, and I
kiss the inside of Drew’s wrist in appreciation as I leave to spend my
brother’s final moments with him.
The walk back is exactly fifty-three steps, but the hardest are the seven
from the door to his lifeless body littered with tubes and wires. He doesn’t
look like himself; he’s bloodstained and bruised, every part of his body
swollen and riddled with the consequence of someone’s hatred. I keep
trying to walk forward, but my feet won’t move. I don’t know how to do
this. I don’t know how to say goodbye.
I stand at step five and watch his chest move every time the machine
makes a whoosh sound.
 Taking two more steps, I stop, mesmerized by the rhythmic beeping of
his pulse, closing my eyes to try and remember the sound.
On step two the machine starts beeping strangely, and the room fills
with people moving around him and shoving me aside and screaming at me
to leave, but I can’t. I have to be here. A nurse comes to push me out of the
room, but I push back. I only see Luca. I can feel him dying. No, no, no…
this isn’t happening.
“Do something! Do something!” I know I’m screaming by the burn in
my throat, but I can’t hear my own voice. I only hear the sound I
memorized, but it’s been replaced by a flatline.
Someone calls for paddles, and everything starts to move in slow
motion. I’m being held in place by faceless bodies. I’m straining against all
the arms trying to hold me back from getting to him, but they’re too strong.
I dig in harder, pushing people from their hold on me. We were together in
the beginning, and I’ll be here in the end.
He’s dying. I can feel it.
The machine comes to life, and they squirt some kind of gel on it before
rubbing the paddles together. I can hear the current, like a hum and squeal
at the same time. Someone screams, “Clear,” and his chest pops up off the
bed. I feel the shock. The room falls silent, waiting.
“Nothing—again! Clear!” His body lifts off the bed and lands with a
thud. I can feel the pain, the horrible ache right in the center of my chest.
Don’t leave me, Luca. My body stops fighting to move forward.
“Clear.” I hear the thud of his body and then everything goes black,
zooming back into focus just as fast. I grab for my chest.
“No, no, no, no, no…I can’t feel it. I don’t feel it. Someone, help him.
Please.” I keep turning to look at the faces in the room as I grab at my chest.
I don’t feel the pain. My pleas are prayed, begged between my broken sobs.
“Please help him.”
Beep, Beep, Beep.
“We’ve got a pulse,” the doctor calls out, and for the first time in
forever, I drop to my knees and thank God.
I’m still on my knees when George and Drew come through the door. She
walks to me and mirrors my position, kissing my face.
“Baby, he’s going to be okay. He’s going to make it.”
“What? What are you saying? They just had to shock his body back to
life. I’ve been praying for forgiveness, begging for God to take me instead.”
She wipes my cheeks, drying the wetness.
“Dominic, they’ve been trying to speak to you for hours. The nurse said
you’ve just been praying. They finally let us back, hoping we could get
through to you. All his vitals have taken a miraculous turn. Baby, he’s going
to be okay. He’s fighting, Dominic.”
“Hours?”
George helps me to my feet, but I’m still confused by Drew’s words.
“Seems your prayers have worked, boss. Luca will make it. He’s getting
stronger by the minute. They’re talking about taking him off the machines
as soon as tomorrow if he keeps on at this rate.”
My head is swirling, but all I feel is gratitude. He’s going to make it. I
grab George and plant a kiss right on his lips, making him jerk back,
laughing and spitting. Grabbing Drew, I pick her up and plant a real kiss on
her lips. She wraps her arms around my neck, kissing me back. I pull back
to look into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did—”
“Shhh, it never happened. I love you.” Caressing my face, she kisses the
tip of my nose.
“I don’t deserve you.” I mean that. She’s the happily ever after I
shouldn’t get to have.
“True, but you get me. Always.”
I kiss her again, thankful she’s by my side. That thought triggers
another. “Did anyone call Shelby?” I walk to my brother, sitting down on
the edge of his bed. George and Drew exchange a worried look. It’s clear to
me that someone knows something I don’t. “What’s going on? One of you,
spit it out.” I look between them.
Drew speaks up first, making her way over to my bruised brother,
moving his hair from his head gently. “She was too busy to make it down.
She said she couldn’t find a sitter and didn’t want Ella around the hospital.
She also called the lawyers to get a copy of the will sent to her.”
“Fucking gold digger. I never trusted her,” George grumbles from the
seat he’s taken by the door.
 I open my mouth to speak when a sleek, no-nonsense-looking woman
with jet-black hair and emerald-green eyes walks through the door. She
drops her heavy bag into George’s lap, causing him to inhale harshly, and
she streamlines directly to Drew and envelops her into a massive hug. I
look to George, who is still holding this woman’s purse. He shrugs at me,
and we both look to Drew, who is hugging the woman back with the same
fierceness.
“Guys, this is Gretchen.” Now it all makes sense. “Gretchen, this is
Dominic and his driver, George.” She points between us.
Gretchen breaks from their hug and walks over to me and hugs me too.
“I’m so sorry, Dominic.” Her sincerity makes me like her immediately.
Pulling away, she pats my shoulder and goes to take her purse off George
with an embarrassed apology. I don’t think he minds by the look on his
face.
Drew looks to her friend with a puzzled face. “Gretchen, how did you
get back here? It’s family only.”
Without pause, Gretchen looks up. “I lied and said I was Shelby. That
whore seems preoccupied with counting her gold, so I figured I come and
steal her man.”
Drew bursts out laughing, covering her mouth.
“Well, goddamn, Gretchen, it’s really nice to meet you,” I say,
flabbergasted.
We stay for an hour before being told we have to leave soon, with the
exception of Gretchen, who asks for some warm towels so that she can
clean Luca’s bruised and bloodied face. I’ve been talking to him off and on
while everyone else has their own conversation, making sure to tell him that
I’ll kill him if he dies.

Gretchen hasn’t left Luca’s side, making sure to wash every bit of blood off
his mangled body.
“Keep it PG, Gretchen. He’s still married,” Drew calls out to her friend
from where she is sitting in the room.
 “Yes, Mom,” she answers like some teenager, making me chuckle from
my post at the foot of his bed.
A nurse comes back into the room with more cloths and a basin for
Gretchen. “Excuse me, but you have two more relatives at the desk asking
to come back. There’s only four max for this wing, so two of you need to
switch.”
Gretchen looks to me for an answer even though the question is being
delivered to her, as his wife. I nod my head for her to continue and look to
George, tipping my head.
George stands up and hands the woman a hundred-dollar bill. “I count
as two,” he says, making his way out the door and guiding her out with him.
Gretchen doesn’t bat an eyelash and continues in her mission to clean my
brother.
I look over at Drew. “She finally shows up. Nice wife. Amazing,” I say,
shaking my head.
“It’s terrible. Luca deserves better. Maybe we can hook her up with my
ex?” She smiles, and I remember how he pissed his pants. “They’re suited
for one another.”
The door opens, and I stand immediately.
“I came as soon I could. Nephew.” My uncle walks to me, embracing
me and kissing my cheeks. “We have the animals that did this to Luca,” he
whispers into my ear. Turning his attention to my wife, he smiles. “Drew.”
He stands to my side, opening his arms. Drew, who is now walking to him,
gives him a hug, and he kisses her cheek. “Why don’t you and your friend
get some coffee and come back in just a few minutes. I need to speak
privately to my nephew. Take this, get a treat.” He hands her a fifty-dollar
bill and pats her hand.
She smiles and nods to Gretchen, giving me a kiss on my cheek as I
lean down toward her, not taking my eyes off Giovanni.
“Whoa. Catch me up. First, when did you meet my wife? Second, who
the fuck is the guy in the corner?” Looking at the man in the corner, I size
him up. “Third…”
“I’m happy to explain, but let the girls stretch their legs.” His voice is
striving for calm.
I nod my agreement but look to Drew. “Check in with George first.”
She gives me a wink and holds the door open for Gretchen.
 “Hey, Giovanni, don’t let anyone touch him until I’m back. You get
me.” Gretchen points to him and blows the old man a kiss as she leaves.
What the fuck is going on?
“That one is a spitfire, and if I was only thirty years younger. I always
like the calculating ones. She lied to get back here, did you know that?
Spectacular.” My uncle’s intrigue with Gretchen irritates me, and my voice
is stern.
“Speak, Zio.”
His reaction is priceless, but I’m immediately intrigued by the man in
the corner. His reaction to my tone is out of place for someone hired as
muscle. He’s protective of my uncle; I can tell he’d like to put that hand he
keeps flexing around my throat. Good luck.
He holds up a hand to stop me from talking while he walks to Luca,
leaning in to kiss his forehead. “My beautiful nephew. May God keep you
safe or take me in your place.” It’s funny; the last two men in the world that
God would probably hear have both asked him the same favor today. He
looks up to me and reaches across my brother for my hand. I give it,
meeting him at Luca’s side. “We can’t let this go unresolved, Dominic. You
need to be straight with me. I need to know your enemies.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t have enemies.” At least nobody
that would be stupid enough to do this.
“Tell me about the men who were stealing from you.” I jerk back as he
turns to me slowly. “What have I told you? Never turn a blind eye. Never,
Dominic—you can’t afford to live in the world everyone else does. These
men thought it was you. They attacked you, Dominic. They tried to end
your life.” Giovanni looks back to Luca with sorrow in his eyes. “Luca was
just an unfortunate mistake in their play for what’s yours.”
All my fears are realized. “This is my fault. I was supposed to protect
him.”
“No, Dominic, this isn’t your fault. There is such a long list of faults.
We live in a world dripping in all the horrors of the human spirit, and
because of that we can never really be clean. Baptized from the devil. It’s
your fault as much as it’s mine and your father’s and the men before us. We
live the best we can and protect the ones we love and take vengeance when
necessary.”
“When does it end?” I drop my head into my hands, feeling the burden
of my past crashing into my present.
 “When we die, nephew. When we die,” he says as he puts his hand on
my back.
“Uncle,” the man calls from the corner. “They’re waiting.”
“Uncle?” I look at the man, feeling like I need a punching bag for all
my stress. “He’s not your uncle. You would stand here in front of me and
my brother and call him uncle.” I know it’s irrational, but I’m a fucking
mess. My control started slipping away in bits the moment my uncle
showed up.
“Dominic,” Giovanni’s voice calls out to me sternly. “Now is not the
time or the place, but Dante has every right to be here. Don’t question me.
We have a package waiting for us at your Church.” What the hell is that
supposed to mean, “every right”? I have a thousand questions, but he’s
right. I have more pressing issues to deal with, so I walk past my new
friend.
“This isn’t over.” I’m met with his welcoming smile.
“I’m looking forward to it,” he growls back until my uncle places a
hand on his arm and leans in to say something privately. Dante nods and
walks to Luca, saying something to him quietly. I instinctively reach to my
back for my gun, but it’s not there. I’m not that guy anymore, but I will be
to protect Luca and Drew.
My uncle smiles, amused at my reaction. “Nice to see you again, my
priest. Dante, let’s go.” His words sear into me.
He raises up immediately and joins my uncle and me at the door. His
eyes are different. They look sad, grieving. Fuck. I’m speechless. He has
the same strange color as my father. No…no fucking way.
“Let’s go,” my uncle orders, and Dante and I fall in step behind him.
We stop by the waiting room, and I ask George to stay with the girls. I
give Drew a kiss on the cheek, and she looks at me solemnly. “I understand,
King. Whatever you decide, make sure it’s your call, not theirs.” I grab her
face roughly and kiss her. This beautiful woman is the Bonnie to my Clyde,
accepting my darkness, accepting me. I saw it the first time I laid eyes on
her—she has a brilliant, seductive fire drawing everyone near even though
it’s dangerous to get too close. Love will never be a strong enough word to
describe how I feel about her.
Pulling back, I look into her eyes. “Take care of Luca. Call me if there’s
a change. Promise me.”
“I promise.” She smiles and buries her head into my chest.
 Gretchen stares back between me and Drew like she’s working out
some kind of puzzle. “Hey, take care of my girl.”
“Absolutely.” Her face shows an understanding of how serious my
request is.
“Priest. We have to go,” Dante calls from the exit. Turning my steely
gaze on him, I nod before kissing Drew once more and walk away without
looking back.

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KING’S BEEN GONE FOR HOURS, and we’re all sitting with Luca. George has
paid half the staff to allow us to stay as long as we’d like. I’m sure they can
sense that “no” wouldn’t be very appreciated or well received. I’m staring
out the window, wondering about King, worried about King, worried about
myself. I’ve slipped into this role, the role of his wife…the wife of a
dangerous man. I’m frightened by how natural it feels. I think back to the
night when I met King and he grabbed the man by his throat. I was never
frightened; I was intrigued. I thought the man deserved it. Maybe I’ve
always had a deeper understanding for out-of-the-box thinking.
Gretchen slides up next to me after having checked on Luca for the
twentieth time.
“Hey, so what’s up with your obsession for Luca?” I don’t want to talk
about me, so I decide to be proactive with the conversation.
“Shut up, I’m not obsessed. He’s just really nice. I mean, he seems nice,
like just a nice man, ya know?” Holy shit, she’s being shy. She’s only shy
when she likes someone.
“You just said ‘nice’ an extreme amount of times. Tell me, G…how
would you know that he’s nice? Like nice, nice, nice,” I press, already
knowing there’s more to her story. She sticks her tongue out at me, and I
point my finger at her accusingly.
“Fine! Because, Ms. Know-It-All, I’ve actually gotten to know him a
bit. You don’t know everything I do.” She waves me off dismissively, but I
smell blood in the water.
“Fucking spill, Gretchen Marie Andrews.” My eyebrows raise for an
answer.
“The middle name? Really? Okay, Drew Sophia Matthews.”
I start to laugh and push her shoulder. “Seriously, spill.”
“It’s nothing. I just went back to the restaurant the next day for drinks
with another friend—a gentleman—and the guy turned out to be a jerk.
Luca happened to be there and was very gracious. We had dinner and just
talked about life and everything…even you guys.” She laughs. “I know,
he’s married, and I would never, ever do that, but I can’t help what I felt.
There was just this connection. I haven’t really spoken to him since. I mean,
we text funny memes or stuff like that. He sent a really cute picture of Ella
yesterday, but that’s all. We’re friends. I’m friend-zoned until Shelby falls
off a bridge.”
“Holy shit.” Oh man, she’s a goner.
“Don’t judge me. I don’t really want her to fall off a bridge.”
“Gretchen, I’m married to a guy you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark
alley. I’m not judging you.” Her laugh makes me laugh too, and she leans in
and hugs me.
“Wait! Did you say married?” She shoots back quickly to search my
face, and I can’t help but bite my lip and raise my left hand.
“Oh. My. Effing. Lord. What! When? You ho! When were going to tell
me? I’m never going to forgive you for not making me wear a horrible dress
and have the privilege of buying strippers for the bachelorette!” Grabbing
my hand, she takes in the shiny four-carat oval Tiffany diamond. “How did
this go unnoticed? It’s a planet.”
“I mean.” I wave my arm around. “There was a lot going on.”
“Truth, sister. Tell me everything, but first I’m super curious about
something. I wanted to ask earlier, but I got caught up in my non-love life.
But why did the gorgeous hunk of muscle with little Gio call Dominic
‘Priest’?”
I shrug, not connecting the dots from our previous conversation, but
George looks up and answers. “He picked it up when he was younger
because the priest is the last person you see before you die, for confession
and penance.” His phone buzzes and he looks to me with concerned eyes. I
give him a reassuring nod, understanding he needs to leave the room to take
the call.
As he exits, Gretchen turns her head to me, eyes bugging out of her
head. “Do I want to that explained more clearly?”
“Absolutely not.”
“So, when you say dangerous, you didn’t mean like lethally hot, did
you?” She crosses her arms.
“Nope.”
“Just tell me you’re happy, safe, and then I will go right back to
ignorance is bliss.” I love her for being concerned, so I take her hands,
uncrossing her arms, and look into her eyes seriously.
“I’m exactly where I belong. He’s my purpose and I’m his salvation. I
couldn’t be happier with my choice.”
Her eyes get a little misty and then drift to Luca. “I want one too…”
Her pout makes me smile as she wistfully stares.
I let go of her hands, garnering her attention again. “Wanna hear a fun
story about Nick?” This is exactly the distraction we need.
We spend the next twenty minutes giggling about Nick and how badass
my husband is. This entire day has felt like a month’s worth of days, but I
definitely didn’t think it would end with me laughing with my best friend at
my sadistic ex shaking in his boots.
George walks back in, taking his post at the seat next to the door and
keeping his eyes trained on Luca. “The car will be here to take you home—
you and Gretchen. Go get some rest, and I’ll stay with him.” I don’t like the
demeanor; it makes me nervous.
“King is on his way?” My eyes search his face for any indication of the
outcome, but he doesn’t look in my direction, so I press harder. “George,
look at me. Is he okay? Tell me he’s all right.”
“He’s fine, Drew.”
I’m not reassured by his words or by my friend holding my hand.
Something is off.
We gather our things, each saying goodbye to Luca, and head out of the
room. George grabs my arm to stop me before I leave. “Take care of him.
He’ll be strong for you, but I’ve known him a very long time, and he’s
worked hard to leave his past. I fear today has drawn him back in.”
 I throw my arms around his neck and give him a suffocating hug.
“Thank you. You’re a good friend, George.”
I rejoin Gretchen and we head out of the hospital toward the exits.
George’s words rattle around in my head, and I want to believe King can
handle the demons without becoming one, but even I know better. Whatever
he decided today, I’m either following him down to the pits of hell or trying
to walk the balance between heaven and hell. Walking through the
automatic doors, I see two black SUVs with heavily tinted windows waiting
in line with each other. My husband stands at the first car, wearing a
different shirt than he left in. Dante stands at the second car, also in new
clothes. I can’t help but take in how incredibly alike the men seem. Both are
strong, protective, and lethal. They could be brothers.
I walk to King’s offered arms, hugging him tightly. The smell of being
freshly showered doesn’t go unnoticed, but I won’t ask, at least not yet. “I
love you.”
“And I you, gorgeous.” He kisses the top of my head and rubs my back.
“Dante will drive you to your car, Gretchen, or he can drive you and
arrange for your car to be dropped to your place later today.”
Gretchen shifts back, looking over her shoulder. “If you guys wouldn’t
mind, I’d like to stay with Luca for tonight. I’d just feel better being able to
see him.”
There’s the shy again.
My smile is met with an eye roll from her, but King surprises me by
saying, “Thank you. He said you were full of surprises; I would have to
agree.”
I look at him, wondering what he knows that I don’t.
Gretchen just smiles and shrugs. I hug her, and she kisses my cheek.
“I’ll call if anything happens.”
“Love you, G,” I call out to her back as she walks back in.
“Love you back, D.”
I climb into the car and wait for King to slide into the driver’s seat, but I
watch in the side mirror as he walks to Dante and the two shake hands.
Dante puts his arm on King’s shoulder, and they exchange what looks to be
very serious words. King reaches and pats Dante’s cheek, causing the
jacked look-alike to laugh. Men are confusing; one minute they want to tear
each other apart, and the next they’re best friends.
 King slides into the car and starts the engine. “Let’s go home, gorgeous.
The house has been cleaned up, and the glass is repaired.”
“Okay, but you have a half hour to tell me everything. I know I said I
wouldn’t ask, but I want all of you. I will live my forever with you with my
eyes wide open. No secrets ever, King.”
He sits in silence for ten excruciating minutes, and then his mouth
opens, spewing out all the horrible details, telling me how he and Dante
took turns beating the three men, cracking their bones and torturing them
until passed out, only to wake them and do it again. His knuckles turn white
from the grip on the steering wheel as he retells the story, highlighting the
cuts and bruises on them. He explains that their plan was to kill him and
then threaten Sarah with the same if she didn’t give them access to all the
money, but they were spooked by George’s car.
“The craziest part is she doesn’t have access to any money. I can’t think
about the horrors she would have endured. It makes me regret not killing
them.” His last sentence catches me off guard, and I twist in my seat to look
at him, confused.
“You didn’t… I thought…” My voice is shaky.
“There are worse things that can be done to people, Drew. No, I didn’t
end their lives, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t ruin them. I relieved them of
their confession, and then they turned themselves in to the police. No more
blood, remember?”
“I do, but I would have made an exception for Luca.” Slowing down at
a red light, he turns his head, smirking at me. I’m deadly serious.
“I need to keep an eye on you…my ruthless little queen.”
I am ruthless. I love him with a fierceness that seems to blur the lines,
and it’s a sacrifice I’m more than willing to make.
“Nessuno ferisce la mia famiglia.” Nobody hurts my family. He eyes
shine with pride, appreciation, and love.
“Noted and resolved.” His eyes are back on the road as we pull onto the
street where our home awaits. “Like I said, there are worse fates than
death.” I don’t know what he did, but I have no doubt he is capable of
destruction.
His phone buzzes, filling the car with the sound of a ringtone. We both
reach for the button, sharing the same fear that something has happened
with Luca. The speaker comes to life, and a deep baritone voice on the
other end booms through. “Priest. I would like to come and sit with Luca
tomorrow, and I want your blessing. I know it’s still new to all of us, but I
would like to be there, in these moments.”
“You have it” is all Dominic says before ending the call.
“What the fuck was that? Was that Dante?” A million questions run
through my mind, but he looks at me with such a weary expression that I
quiet my curiosity.
“Let’s go inside. There’s a lot to talk about and explain, but I’m tired
and I need to fuck you. I need to bury myself deep inside of you and forget
the world around me.”
“Yes, King.” My voice is just above a whisper as we exit the car and
walk into our home.

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IT’S BEEN EXACTLY A MONTH since Luca woke up. I’ll never forget the faces
in the room, the tears and the celebrations that followed. Whatever
happened the day he was hurt worked to effectively bring bonds back
between Dominic’s estranged family because we were inundated by tiny
Italian women showing up with dishes of pasta. It was like a full buffet at
the hospital. I’m sure each woman believes it was her dish that nursed him
back to life as well.
I laugh at the memory as I put the finishing touches on the table I’ve set
outside for our party. Dominic and I waited until Luca was released from
the hospital to tell him about the marriage, and in true Luca fashion, he was
over the moon for us both. Tonight, my parents are coming over, separately,
as is Gretchen. Luca is coming with Shelby and Ella. The most surprising
guest is Dante. He’s been making appearances in our lives more and more.
Late one evening Dominic shared with me that Dante is his half-brother.
He didn’t go into detail, but Dante was born before Dominic and Luca, so
technically he is the older brother even though Dante would never risk the
retribution from calling King “little.” Luca does, however; he goes out of
his way to refer to Dante as “big bro.” If he hadn’t just gotten beat up, I’m
fairly certain Dominic would pummel him. Giovanni has also been a
regular, although Dominic seems warier of that. I know he struggles with
his birthright, but we’ve found a balance between. Our lives are messy and
complicated, but we’re together.
“Drew,” King calls out from the kitchen. “Is this supposed to look like
this?”
Running back in, I see the sauce I was making has burned. “Fuck. No,
it’s not, but I don’t cook, so…”
“Here.” He extends the phone out to me. “Why would we cook when
we own three restaurants? Order something and I’ll have someone pick it
up.”
Smiling, I take the phone from his hand and blow him a kiss.
“On second thought.” He grabs the phone from my hand and dials a
number. “Take off your pants.”
“King, people will be here soon.”
He leans over to the drawer and pulls out a wooden spoon, smacking his
palm once to reiterate his point.
“I said, take them off.”
My heart is pulsating through my chest, and my mind is foggy,
entranced by the promise of being spanked. I grab at the button of my jeans
and pull, shimmying them down. He makes a twirling motion with his
finger, and I turn around to face the counter.
“Yes, this is King. I need an order brought to my house tonight.” Pulling
the phone from his mouth, he whispers, “Hands on the counter.”
I do as I’m told, body boiling with anticipation. King begins to rattle off
the order to whoever is on the phone, and when he delivers the first blow, I
cry out with a breathy moan, happy for everyone to hear me. The idea of an
audience turns me on, and he knows that.
He sets the phone down on the counter next to me. “That was very
naughty, Drew. I’m sure they heard you on the other end. Is that what you
want?” Our sex life has gotten kinkier and kinkier. The one-way mirror
room at the club has become my very favorite place.
Smack. The sound of the slapped flesh echoes through the room,
another moan escaping my lips.
Smack. “My dick is so hard, watching your body writhe from the pain.
Do you want it harder, gorgeous?”
“Yes!” I scream out as he delivers another smack and pulls me hard
back into his waiting cock. I brace the edge of the counter as he thrusts into
me, bringing us both to our climax, his warm juices filling me. My
breathing slows, and he pulls out of me, making me wince. He reaches out
to grab a kitchen towel and dips his hand down to wipe his juices from the
inside of my leg.
“I wish I could hold you upside down to keep it all in.” He’s been trying
to knock me up for weeks.
“You’re a maniac. I hope we have all girls. That will be your karma.” I
step back just in case he actually tries holding me upside down.
“You better hope for boys, or we’ll need a criminal attorney.” I laugh at
the idea. Our girls really will be screwed.
Motioning to the pan for him to clean up, I wink. “I’m going to take a
shower and get cleaned up before everyone gets here.” Gripping my arm, he
pulls me back against his body.
“Thank you for bringing me back to life.”
“Thank you for being my life.”

Five Years Later.

“Drew, have you seen two tiny little knights with black hair and their
mother’s eyes and one gorgeous little princess with her mother’s savagery
and her father’s eyes? I have to be specific because as the dragon in this
sordid little game, I wouldn’t want to fire breath the wrong people.” I can’t
hold back my laughter or the giggles coming from under the covers where
my twin boys and lovely little princess are hiding.
“Haven’t seen them,” I try and say with a straight face as Dominic
lunges for the bed, tickling the mounds under my blanket. Their screams of
laughter elicit his own laughs until they pop up screaming foul play.
“Daddy!” they all yell in unison until Giorgia holds up her little hand to
quiet the boys. Already so commanding for only two and a half.
“Daddy, no fair,” she pouts, and he swoops her up in his strong arms,
whispering to her in Italian until she smiles and kisses his cheeks.
 “We get candy!” she yells to her waiting older brothers, who start
jumping up and down on the bed in celebration.
“Antonio, Christian, what has your mother asked you about jumping on
beds?” Even on his best day, Dominic cannot be stern with his children.
“Sorry, Daddy” is muttered as they crawl down and give me kisses. Chasing
each other out of my room, they run to find their sister, who has probably
already eaten all the candy.
“Don’t give them too much,” I complain to him, worry furrowing my
brow.
“Stop worrying, rest. Tomorrow you have another set of boys to give
me.” This pregnancy was a full-blown miracle. I was on the pill and yet
another set of twin boys.
“No more after this, King. No more. You’re getting clipped!”
He laughs, shaking his head in agreement and leaning down to run his
hand over my belly, dipping down to give it a kiss.
“Daddy!” is yelled from down the hall, and he smiles against my
pregnant tummy. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life—Priest,
Dominic, King—but that one’s my favorite.”
“I love you, King.”
“And I you.”

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 Forever Series

Come Back to Me

Forever With Me

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I have so many people to thank but let me start with my entire family, from
my mom to my dad to my kiddos. You guys are everything, Thank you for
endless hours of support and love and pride! You really are the best!

Huge Thank yous go out to my other family, the ones that help to make
these books so amazing—Gretchen, Megan, Thuy, Brittany, Sara, Sandra
(nothing like the eleventh hour! haha) Jess and Kennedy ( you are my rock)
and Kristy. You guys really helped me take it to the next level! The reads
and teasers and just listening to me vent and whine, all the free advice and
guidance. I adore you. Thank you!

And of course, Thank you to my Maria for the hottest cover since ever.

To all my blogger homies on Instagram—My girls, you have become my

ride or dies in this journey and I literally could not do it without your
generosity, consideration and love. You mean so much to me. Your
beautiful and well planned art are EVERYTHING!

I saved the best for last. THE READERS!!! Seriously, you guys rocked my
world, you shared my cover and blurb and excerpts and everything. But
mostly you shared in my excitement and hope. I love you for that. Thanks
for reading, I’ll keep writing…let’s do this all again, say December? Xoxo

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Trilina is an author, wife and mama to three rowdy kiddos. She resides in
California with her family enjoying the sun and outdoors. When she isn’t
making grilled cheese sandwiches she can be found writing saucy novels
that titillate and excite her readers.

Trilina always had a love for writing and she is excited that she can share
her stories with you!

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