by Nina Levine
Hemsworth starts coughing.
“Are you all right?” Naïve Queenie grabs a bottle of cold water and goes to pass it over the front seat.
Holding a hand up, he responds, “I am fine, Miss. Must have been something in the air.” He’s laughing at my expense.
I roll my eyes. Dust collection. Hemsworth is never going to let me live this down.
“In answer to your question, I don’t have a motorcycle in my dust collection. I haven’t ridden in years, but I used to own a vintage Harley when I was younger, and I understand the freedom you are talking about.”
Queenie riding her vintage Bonnyville in the parking lot around to the back of the warehouse was a sexy sight. I’ll be ordering a motorcycle tomorrow. It will be my mission to get Queenie on the back of it.
The high-society women I have taken on dates wouldn’t get caught dead on the back of a motorcycle. High-society women enjoy getting chauffeured around. Queenie finds it ridiculous. I now find it stupid I gave up riding.
“I could have ridden the short distance to Cindy’s house and saved Hemsworth the trouble.”
“It’s no trouble, Miss. I am enjoying this drive immensely.”
And for that comment, I push the button that raises the partition between the driver and passengers.
Queenie laughs. “Talk soon, Hemsworth.”
“Right you ar—”
“You’re mean. Hemsworth is adorable.”
“Because he is laughing at my expense?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I call bullshit.”
We pull up out the front of a red brick two-story in the quiet tree-lined street. Old Town's residential area has taken a beating since the pandemic, like a lot of Chicago. For now, it is struggling to get back on its feet as the once affluent, thriving area of Chicago pre-pandemic.
Queenie takes a deep breath and slowly blows it out when Hemsworth opens her door waiting for her to get out.
I cover my hand over hers when she goes to pick up the pink box. “Are you okay? Your mood has dimmed.”
“Yeah.” She gives me a half-smile. “Cindy is in-home palliative care. Her family is keeping her comfortable and surrounded by love, but… umm…” I watch Queenie struggle to find the words, her eyes welling up. “She’s termin—”
“I’m coming in with you.” I always was, but I was waiting for an invite first, but now I know she will need me beside her without an invitation.
I open my own damn door because I’m not a ‘git’ and hurry around to her side of the car. Placing my hand on the small of her back, I usher Queenie toward the half-dozen steps that will take us up to the dark heritage green, framed glass door.
I look over my shoulder. Hemsworth is standing with his hands clasped in front of his body, looking solemn. I can see how much he respects Queenie already, and I think he may be on his way to adoring her.
She’s quite something.
11
Queenie
It looks like nobody is home, but I knock on the door loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
I’m grateful to have Bradford standing beside me. I’ve been convincing myself all afternoon not to fear coming here. Every time I knock on Cindy’s door, there is the dread of not knowing how bad she will be when I arrive.
I met Cindy and her family when she had her hospital stays about a year ago, but I’ve been visiting once a week for the past three months at her home, bringing a gift each time, watching Cindy’s face light up, and seeing the teary smile from her mother, thankful for what I am doing.
I knock again.
It’s not easy emotionally visiting a dying person, but it’s even harder being the one who is dying. At least I can walk away not feeling sick and always tired.
My penitence for not being able to take away Cindy’s disease are the tears that wreck me, reminding me of my mother’s slow, painful death. Some of Mamma’s friends stopped coming to see her because they valued their emotional pain more.
“They might be out,” Bradford says softly beside me.
“No, somebody is always home watching over their Cinderella.” Fear spikes its way through my body.
“Are you looking for the Collins’?” An old lady’s head pops up over the next door’s fence.
“Yes. I’ve come to visit with Cindy.”
“You usually ride your bike. I’ve seen you around each week, bringing the girl gifts. Then I guess it’s okay to let you know the poor kid passed away yesterday morning in the early hours. The family is out getting some air and dinner. They are finding it hard to be in the house at the moment.”
It takes me a few seconds to latch onto the old lady’s words. My hand flies up to my mouth to stop the loud sob from escaping.
Bradford’s arm slips around my waist. “Thank you… for letting me know.” I can barely say the words through the tightening in my throat and the tears. I’m now leaning more of my weight into Bradford’s body.
“It’s a rough time for Cindy’s parents; they will contact you shortly. What’s your name, honey, and I will let them know you stopped by.”
“Queenie. Just Queenie,” I sob, trying to keep a hold of my emotions.
I pull away from Bradford’s hold and turn back to the door and kneel, placing the box behind the rocking chair on the front porch for her parents to discover when they come home for the evening.
“Honey, I’ll keep an eye on the door for you until they come home,” says the kindly neighbor.
Without turning around, I whisper, “Thank you.” They will know the gift is from me.
I knew this day was coming for Cindy, but the reality has knocked the wind out of me. I feel like I’ve gotten sucker-punched.
I’m already hiding my grief for my Mamma’s death from all the men today because it marks the sixth anniversary of her death. I would normally take a ride to the cemetery to talk with my parents while the sun is setting, but today Bradford ordered me not to go anywhere alone. And now little Cindy has passed, leaving her family drowning in their grief.
“Queenie, I’m so sorry.” Bradford is crouching down behind me, shielding my back. And that’s all it takes for me to turn into a blubbering fool. The dam walls have broken.
“Let me take you home.”
“I don’t think I can stand.” I sob louder before collapsing back into the strong arms that surround me.
“I’ll do the work for you, sweetheart.” Then Bradford is cradling me against his chest while we sit on the porch, and I have no fucks to give if he sees me as weak. I have no sassy remarks to throw at it. Instead, I take the comfort he is offering me and cry my heart out to near exhaustion.
Losing Cindy brings up losing my mother.
And it hurts twice as much.
12
King
“Sir, I’ll call ahead and make sure the construction crew is gone.” A gray cashmere blanket taken from the trunk gets draped around Queenie’s shoulders and tucked around the back of my shoulders.
“Thank you, Hemsworth,” Queenie whispers. Her tears have slowed to a trickle.
“You are most welcome, Miss. I’ll have you back at your apartment in no time.”
I look up at my old friend. “Thank you, Hemsworth. You know I do apprec—”
“I know, sir. If I didn’t enjoy working for you, there are plenty of other households or lonely billionaires who would take me in. I know I’m worth my weight.” He pats me on the shoulder.
“Modest. Much?”
Before closing the door gently, he murmurs, “I’ve learned from the best, sir.”
“And I’m not lonely, you silly old fool,” I grumble to myself.
“He’s a good man to have on your side—” Queenie yawns mid-sentence against my chest, using my sweater to try and stifle the sound. “—and I wouldn’t have thought you lonely from the social media images I saw of you and all your women.”
I lean my head back against the leather seat. “It’s not like tha
t, Queenie.”
“Whatever you say,” she murmurs.
I can only imagine the impression she has of me. I flirted up a storm with her while she was bartending so that I could get inside her. It is exactly how she sees it on social media. The rich playboy who works hard and fucks even harder and doesn’t care who knows.
I readjust the hold I have on her when she burrows down into the blanket. Her arms slip around my waist.
Fuck she feels good.
“Sir, we will be pulling into the garage in a moment. How is Miss doing now?”
“She’s calmer—” I look down, her eyes are closed, and her mouth has dropped open. “—and she’s sound asleep. Hemsworth. Change of plan. Let’s go to my city penthouse. Her floor is under construction, and I don’t want her waking up to all the noise and mess. Xander and his crew will be there early. I’ll get Chef to make all of us dinner. The tavern isn’t opening until lunchtime. I’ll contact the staff rostered on for tomorrow, in the morning, and we will have a team meeting at eleven before the doors open.”
“You have experience owning night clubs. Queenie’s shouldn’t be a stretch for you to conquer and whip it into shape. I’m sure Miss has some valuable input.”
“I’ll be disappointed if she doesn’t have any.”
“Sir…” Hemsworth watches me in the rearview mirror. “I didn’t want to mention it before, but today is the sixth anniversary of Queenie’s mother—Collette’s—death from breast cancer.” Shit! “This information came to light when my friend, Henry, dug into her personal life. The recent bad news of her young friend’s death may have caused her—”
“I agree. On top of everything else that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. It’s been a shit-show of emotions for Queenie.”
“Please go easy on Miss, sir. You are a champion at mergers and takeovers, and you meet a challenge head-on. But Miss isn’t one of your challenges or one of your wealthy ladies to play with and then throw away. She’s got a heart, and she cares about more than money and herself.”
“So, what you’re saying is she’s not a ‘git,’ and she gets your seal of approval, whereas I am still a work in progress.”
“Something like that, sir.”
We drive in silence until we reach my glass and steel skyscraper I own.
“I’m pulling into the vehicle elevator now, sir.”
In seconds we fly up to the thirtieth floor of the building I own. The top two floors are for my small staff and me when I choose to stay here. The rest of the building gets leased out to corporate businesses.
Hemsworth drives the car forward when the door slides open into the well-lit garage and onto the rotating floor. We wait for the town car to turn around, so we face the large elevator door again, ready for the morning.
Unbuckling my seatbelt, I open my door before Hemsworth can take up his routine of the doorman and slide myself across the backseat until my feet touch the garage floor.
“Do you need me to hold Miss while you get out?”
“I can manage, thank you.” The truth is I don’t want to hand her over to Hemsworth, even for a few seconds. “If you could please tuck the blanket around her when I stand, that would be helpful,” I suggest.
“Of course, and then I’ll go ahead and prepare the bedroom. Sir, are you taking Miss to the guest bedroom, or…”
“Do I need to roll my eyes at you, Hemsworth? You are about as subtle as—”
“I shall head over to the master bedroom.” He’s off powerwalking to the sensor door.
It’s just gone six o’clock. I’m dog tired from not having slept last night, but I have things that need to get organized.
Hemsworth is waiting for us, with the king-sized bed turned down and one cold bottle of water on each bedside table.
I raise an eyebrow at him.
“You look like you could do with a nap. You haven’t slept.”
“Nor have you,” I reply, noticing he’s a little off-color. I’ve selfishly had him working all day on what is usually his day off, and he’s had less sleep than me. “First, take Queenie’s boots off and then fuel up on some food and get some sleep. I don’t think I will be bothering Chef tonight. Let him know when you go downstairs his services are not needed tonight.”
“Good idea, sir.” He starts working on her boots. “Is there something else on your mind? You were frowning when you walked into the bedroom.”
“I would like to visit with the Collins’ in the morning and offer to pay for Cindy’s funeral costs on behalf of Queenie and any debt they have incurred with medical expenses. We can discuss it more after we get some sleep.”
“Sir, if I may say so, as a work in progress, you are progressing nicely. Your parents would be proud.”
“So… before I was—?”
“Let’s say I always knew you had it in you to do better with the silver spoon you were born holding. You’ve grown your family’s wealth a hundred-fold. Now is the time to lead by example, and others will follow.”
“You are a loyal, trusted friend who tells me the hard truths nobody else will. I don’t know what I would do without you.” And that’s the truth.
“Well, let’s not tempt fate. I will see you both in the morning. Have a good night.” He knows the moment our heads hit the pillow, none of us are going to surface until the morning.
I still haven’t fed Queenie, but she needs to sleep.
I gently lay her down on the sheet then cover her up. I should take the lilac wig Queenie’s wearing off, but I don’t want to disturb her.
I strip down to my boxers and slide underneath the covers. I mold my body around Queenie’s, resting my arm loosely underneath her breasts.
Nothing has ever felt so right.
And then I’m out for the count.
13
Queenie
The grumbling of my stomach tries to pull me away from the deliciously dirty dream I’m having with a dark-haired man who is caressing my nipple while I lay in his arms.
“More,” I murmur as an ache that needs to get dealt with has me sliding my hand underneath my clothing and dipping inside my panties, rubbing myself to get the friction I need to go to the bonus level. “Make me come,” I whisper to my dream man.
“Jesus, Queenie. As much as I don’t want to wake you, it would help if you were a willing participant. You need to wake up for me.”
I find his soft lips, and then my tongue joins the party.
I am sliding two fingers inside me, ramping up my pleasure. “More…” I moan.
Hungry lips find my mouth again, and I’m all too willing to dance with them.
My lover moans into my mouth. “Queenie, we need to stop.”
“No.”
“Wake up, Queenie, and then we can do all the things you desire.”
“Yes…” I move around, feeling around for my dream man’s cock. “There it is,” I murmur, feeling the hard bulge. My fingers find the edge of the boxers, tugging them down to set dream man’s cock free.
“Queenie, wake up.” Dream man sounds like he’s in pain, so I stroke his cock harder. “Oh, fuck, Queenie,” he moans his pleasure.
I want him to come hard, so I slide underneath the covers and wrap my lips around him.
“No, Queenie!” My body gets drawn away from my dream man’s cock.
“Nooo…”
“I feel your pain, honey, but you need to wake up.”
And then my dream man becomes a reality.
He’s got an arm bent behind his head, grinning down at me in all his naked glory.
14
King
“Bradford, where am I?” She’s looking at me with confusion and lust.
“We are at my penthouse in the city, and it’s a little after six in the morning, and you were sex dreaming.”
“What?”
I point to where she’s lying between my legs, my cock saluting her by her cheek. “Trust me, that was one of the hardest things I have had to do in a long while. I co
uldn’t wake you. You had sex on the brain. Not that I’m complaining, but I would rather you be awake. You were calling me your ‘dream man,’ and I gotta say, I liked where you were going, but in good conscience, I couldn’t let you continue.” I point to my cock. “Big guy is having a little trouble with separation anxiety. So if you want to come on up here, he should be able to mellow out.” Said no guy in this position ever.
“Oh, I’m so sorry for taking advantage of you like that.” She looks more embarrassed than anything else for playing out her dream in 3D.
Or is she?
Her sideglance at my cock, and the hunger in her eyes tells me she’s not that sorry.
“It was no great hardship to wake up to a beautiful woman in my bed, pushing her tongue into my mouth and getting herself off, then enjoying my cock.”
She glances sideways again at my erection. Aannd then she bites her bottom lip
My cock twitches.
She moans, scissoring her legs on the sheet.
I unashamedly groan out loud at the sight of this beautiful woman getting herself wet for me.
My cock twitches again. It knows it is so close to getting sucked again, but no cigar because we are at a standstill—an impasse. Nobody is making a move.
“Lady, you need to step away from the big guy, he can sense your indecision, and he’s not going to power down with you so close to him and biting your lip while thinking dirty thoughts as your panties get soaked.”
“Or I could continue, and we are all winners.” She’s fully awake and in control of her lustful thoughts, and she just waved the checkered flag.
“Well, good morning to you too, dirty girl. But before I accept or decline your generous offer, I need to ask you how you are feeling? No BS. I want you to be honest. Sex can wait. Your well-being is more important.”
Queenie sits up, then surprises me by pulling the sheet over my cock and straddling my body. She’s fully clothed just as I left her last night, but the sheet is no barrier.