Kingdom Fall: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (Kingdom Come Book 2)

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Kingdom Fall: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (Kingdom Come Book 2) Page 4

by Terri E. Laine


  “No. I just don’t want to owe you a damn thing,” I said, leaving my expression blank.

  The muscles in his jaw went taut, and we didn’t say another word to each other. Not even in the taxi on our way to a destination unknown to me. As much as I called him a liar, I still dumbly trusted the man. After everything he’d done so far, I’d be stupid to think otherwise.

  The taxi let us off near a marina. Striker, still determined to hold my hand, used his other to check his phone. Then he walked us down a pier. A man exited a boat at the end filled with college students, probably not much younger than me.

  “Please tell me that’s not our destination.” When he didn’t reply, I said, “Is that why you gave up the dad shorts for those?”

  Truth was, the khakis he’d worn had looked great on him. But I couldn’t help needling him after I’d admitted my ongoing attraction to him.

  “It’s summer break and the islands are crawling with partiers.”

  “You could have clued me in. I wouldn’t have worn this.” I had purchased a couple of T-shirts that would have worked better for what he called our subterfuge.

  “I didn’t think you wanted to hear anything I had to say. Now that you mention it, it would probably be a good time to remove the rings,” he said, letting go of my hand.

  What came next I might have missed if I hadn’t been grumbling curses about the gorgeous man while trying to decide if I should risk removing the rings and having them fly out of my slippery hands because of the heat to be lost in the ocean forever. Instead, with my head dipped, I saw Striker reach in his pocket for something at the same time the man who’d been heading in our direction crossed our path. His hand opened with a glint of metal that appeared to be keys. I couldn’t swear to it, but my guess was Striker now had the keys and the other man probably had money of some sort.

  Striker picked up speed, leaving me unable to ask him, so I spun the solitary diamond toward my palm. That made it appear I was wearing stackable rings instead of a bridal set. Striker was already on the big boat when I stepped on.

  “Nice,” a frat boy said, giving me a thumbs-up.

  Weirdly, I felt old and overdressed as college students swarmed around with red plastic cups in their hands. Not so long ago, I might have been one of them.

  “Heading for party island?” the same boy asked. “One-way trip.”

  I looked in Striker’s direction, but he was talking to a group of guys doing some sort of male hand slapping and had his back to me.

  “Looks that way,” I said, giving the boy a tentative smile. I waited for him to ask if I was someone’s mom, even though he was no more than four years younger than me—if that.

  “That’s good. Maybe we can hang out later.”

  I nodded noncommittedly.

  “The keg’s in the front of the boat, and other than that, no rules.” He sounded proud of himself.

  I felt utterly self-conscious. I shouldn’t have because as I moved forward, I was waylaid by two girls.

  “Oh my God, that cover-up is so cute!” one said.

  The other chimed in, “Tell me you bought it here on the island so I can get one myself. Of course, after we get back. And that hat, I love it.”

  I nodded. They introduced themselves and took me, so to speak, under their wings.

  I might have relaxed if one of them hadn’t said, “Oh my God, that guy is so hot. I didn’t see him earlier, did you? I wonder what school he goes to.”

  There was no need for me to guess who they were talking about. When I looked up, I met a pair of amazing blue eyes that matched the color of the ocean here. A liquid blue I’d gotten lost in multiple times.

  “And he’s looking at you,” the other said.

  No, he was smirking, damn him. That lopsided grin would get any woman wet.

  Seven

  Connor

  Because my blonde looked like a fish out of water, at least until she spotted me, I intervened. I’d only left her for a second to make sure this was the right boat. Plans had been made and we’d be screwed if we didn’t end up on the island.

  “Ladies,” I said.

  The two women who’d already taken Lizzy as one of their own had protective arms slung over her shoulders. “We were just telling…”

  “Lisa,” Lizzy said.

  “Yes, Lisa that we have a place you can store your bags. They won’t be messed with. Ours are up there too.”

  “Lead the way,” I said.

  Lizzy and I followed them upstairs to the second level and through an exterior door on the right side of the boat. It was a small room, more like a utility room.

  “No one comes in here,” the girl on Lizzy’s left said.

  “Can I have a word with Liz—a?” I caught myself in time, and the women didn’t seem to notice my almost mistake.

  “Sure,” the other girl said and winked at Lizzy.

  Lizzy gave them a smile as they left, but I recognized it for what it was. She wasn’t happy about being alone with me.

  When the door closed, she said, “Are you going to tell me our destination?”

  “Party island.” I grinned because I knew it would piss her off.

  She grabbed the hem of the top she wore and whipped it over her head.

  “Caving so quickly?” I asked.

  “Get over yourself. I’m changing into this.” She reached in a bag and took out a T-shirt. After biting off the tag, she pulled the shirt down over her head. “Better. Now I don’t look like a MILF.”

  Mother I’d like to fuck she was not. I did want to fuck her though.

  “Trust me, no guy on this boat thought you were a MILF.”

  “What would you know? You were too busy getting eye-fucked by every woman on the boat,” she grumbled while rummaging in her bag. She yanked out a circle thing she used to pull her hair back into a tail. “Better?”

  “For who?”

  “Don’t be an ass. Do I look like I fit in now?”

  “Who said you didn’t before? How old are you anyway?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re asking now?”

  “You’re not going to tell me?”

  “No. But I will say you aren’t a pedophile,” she declared with an I won this one grin.

  She tucked her bag in a corner, away from where the girls had stashed their bags, and left. I put my bag on top of hers and moved the hat she’d bought on top of that before following her out.

  I walked in on some guy hitting on her.

  “I can show you where?” he said.

  She turned, flashed me a see ya smile, and took off with the little weasel who’d probably never had his dick wet. If she thought I would get jealous, I’d show her otherwise. I could find ways to pass the time on this party boat too.

  I sat on an empty sofa with a bottle of beer, and within minutes, beautiful women surrounded me. One of whom outright offered to let me do dirty things to her.

  “You should be careful to whom you make that request,” I said. “Someone might take you up on that, and you may not like the outcome.”

  Her eyes grew large as fear took hold, and she quickly scrambled away. I’d done my good deed for the day. I could only hope she would take my advice and not end up a statistic at some point in the future.

  “You might have scared her, but I don’t scare easily.” A brunette, deeply tanned with an exotic beauty that caught most men’s eyes and lacked the innocence the other had, leaned forward so her lips were inches from mine.

  “What does scare you?” I asked.

  “Nothing much really.”

  “If I wanted to tie you up and watch you scream, what would you say to that?”

  With more curves than a figure eight, she shifted to press her full breasts against my left arm as she spoke in my ear. “I say whatever gets you off, I’m down for.”

  “Excuse me.”

  I let my eyes eat up the long expanse of Lizzy’s legs and torso until I met her narrowed eyes.

  “I’m sorry,�
�� the brunette purred. She didn’t sound sorry in the least. “Have I poached your man?”

  “He’s not my man,” Lizzy said, though the daggers she aimed at the other woman said differently.

  “Well then, you can go,” the exotic beauty said with a wave.

  I stretched and folded my arms behind my head, enjoying the show.

  “It’s not really up to you, is it?” Lizzy said, her cool stare landing on me.

  I could have let it play out some more, but I gave in and got to my feet. “Duty calls.”

  “Too bad,” the brunette said, sex oozing from every pore. “I have a feeling you like more flavors than vanilla.”

  My feisty blonde thought the woman was referring to her looks, not quite getting the other woman’s meaning. Her reply, however, did make me chuckle. “I can tell you one flavor he isn’t interested in.”

  The brunette only arched a brow with confidence that nothing Lizzy said would bother her.

  “Chunky skank monkey.”

  The brunette deflated before lifting her chin.

  I took Lizzy by the arm before more than words were thrown. “Let’s go.”

  “Why?” Lizzy said, forcing me to pull her along.

  “The point of taking this ship was to blend in, not be recognized,” I ground through my molars.

  “I bet you like the idea of two women fighting over you. So, let me clear this up—I wasn’t fighting over you.”

  “Really? Because I was pretty sure you just cock-blocked me.” I couldn’t help riling her up. She was sexy as hell when she was mad.

  She jerked her arm free as we stepped onto the starboard side of the boat. The walkway was oddly free of anyone. “You’re welcome to go get chlamydia if you want.”

  “You’re better than that.” But then I recognized her vulnerability. How had I not seen it before? I reached for her.

  “You’re right,” she said, holding a hand in the air. “That was mean. I can admit when I’m wrong. I’ll just say it. She’s more your type.”

  “Maybe, but not for the reasons you think.”

  The brunette had read me as the dominant I was. She’d been ready to play. Sex between Lizzy and me had been great—fantastic even. But long term, would I be willing to give up the dominant side of me for a vanilla relationship with her?

  “I think it’s pretty clear you prefer a woman with big tits and a round ass.”

  “I’m attracted to more than just looks,” I said.

  I wasn’t sure how we’d gotten to this point. She’d made it clear how she felt. At the same time, I needed her to trust me. I would have tried to explain it, but the boat slowed. There was a chorus of cheers, and I assumed we’d gotten to our destination.

  “We should get our things,” she said and didn’t wait for my reply. She took the outside stairs up and entered the door where we’d stashed our stuff.

  I followed. The woman before me was all strength. The way she picked up her bag and rummaged through it as though her life depended on it allowed me to see her vulnerability. I pried the bag from her hand and walked her back to the wall, where a shaft of light from the small porthole window haloed her as if she was an angel. But I was no saint.

  “I need you to understand how very attracted I am to you,” I said while guiding her hand to the bulge in my pants. “No woman gets me hard without touching me the way you do.” I let go of her hand and cupped her right breast. “Your tits are perfect. Just the right size for my mouth.” I slid my other hand to her ass. “And this is a gift from God himself.”

  “But?” she asked as though there had to be one.

  For once, she didn’t fight me. She hadn’t pushed me away. I gave in to the pull and covered her mouth with mine, wholly prepared for a knee to the balls if I’d read this all wrong.

  Eight

  Lizzy

  I shouldn’t want, shouldn’t need him. Yet my body burned for him, my thoughts yearned for him, and my heart ached for him.

  He tasted of the IPA beer he’d been drinking, but it was much more than that. It was hot, a little angry, most definitely possessive, almost claiming in nature—fueled by which one of us, I wasn’t sure. I was drowning in my desire for him when I was thrown a lifeline in the form of the door opening and my two saviors from earlier walking in.

  “Oh, did we interrupt?” one of them asked.

  I might have been a little ashamed for not remembering either of their names, but they didn’t seem at all repentant about interrupting.

  “It’s fine,” I said, pulling down my shirt that had shifted north when Striker laid his hands on me.

  The big guy didn’t move, and his gaze held steady on mine, daring me to leave.

  “It’s okay. We’re leaving,” the other said with a grin the size of the sunshine state.

  When the door closed, I said, “Don’t you think we should go too?”

  Why had I asked? The man had enough power over me already.

  “It’s probably better if we wait. The fewer people who see us not walking to the compound, the better,” he said, still way too close.

  Just because we were stuck there for the next few minutes, didn’t mean we had to be so close. As I attempted to move away from him, I said, “God, I’m allergic to you,” hoping satire would gain me much-needed space.

  His perfect brow rose in question. “Are you finding it hard to breathe around me?” he said with a wicked grin that made me even wetter.

  “Maybe,” I admitted and ducked around him to snag my bag. “But it’s the multiple orgasms I have whenever I’m around you that are the problem.” Had I really just admitted that? A glance over my shoulder showed me his lips were curled into a sexy smirk. “And don’t say something like an epic penis infusion from you could be the cure.”

  “I would have said epic penis injection, but infusion works.”

  Laughing was good for cleansing the soul. I did just that as I left the room because I was more than a little hot and bothered. If we would had stayed there a second longer, I would have given in to his charms even if it meant begging. I needed air to cool off and fast.

  Though we hadn’t stayed in the room long, the boat was a ghost town when we came out. We walked across the main deck to the port side and crossed the short gangplank to the pier. But we didn’t follow the last of the stragglers. Instead, Striker steered us right. We left the beach in favor of the wooded area, and before too long, we came upon a strategically placed four-wheeler. The keys I’d assumed he’d gotten appeared in his hand.

  “Where are we going?”

  I expected another cryptic answer, but instead he was straightforward. “The other side of the island. We can walk, but it is a long one.” When I stood there, he nodded his head at the four-wheeler and said, “Get on.”

  The bright and sunny day that had greeted us when we exited the plane had all but dimmed. I was at a loss for time without my phone. After stuffing our bags in a rear compartment, he climbed aboard. I got on, and it was no different than when I rode behind him on his Harley.

  The music coming from the direction of the compound muted the sound of the engine firing. The man could seemingly do everything well, straddling the line of sandy beach and trees on this remote island. There wasn’t a road to be seen, and I assumed this was a private island owned by one of the rich students on the boat.

  What I didn’t expect was for Striker to take us to a large speed boat, docked by itself at a rundown pier that appeared abandoned long ago. He parked a little way in the trees, hiding the four-wheeler from the casual observer. That’s when I noticed something else.

  “Who’s driving us?” Captaining the ship might have been the better word, but whatever.

  “I am.”

  If I’d been on my game, I might not have blurted, “Is there anything you can’t do?”

  He smiled a bit. “It’s called guilt. My father’s. When we were supposed to be spending quality time as father and son, he’d eventually get a business call he couldn’t ign
ore. So I’d get lessons of some sort to keep me entertained.”

  “That can’t be a bad thing,” I said.

  “It can be when most of your trip was spent learning how to pilot a boat or a helicopter or whatever. Sure, it was cool at first, but when the trip was over, I realized I hadn’t spent any time with my dad. But this is a conversation for another time.” He checked his watch. “We have to go.”

  We hurried to the boat as if we were being pursued. It didn’t help that he kept glancing back as if looking for someone. We stepped aboard the boat and climbed a few stairs to the galley. It was pretty impressive and looked like a boat a billionaire would own. Inside were sofas and woodgrain cabinets fit for a mansion. We went up another flight of stairs to an open air area. He sat in the captain’s seat, and I took a seat on the L-shaped bench behind it.

  He put in the key, and the motor purred to life. I would have explored the boat, but I was curious about Striker’s boating abilities. To my surprise, he got up and went downstairs. Soon I felt the boat drift a little more. Then he was back, and we were off.

  It wasn’t long before the party island was a distant memory. We passed other islands until far off from the others, another island came into view. We circled it. There was barely any beach to speak of. It almost looked like a mountain rising from water. After one time around, Striker cautiously approached what looked like a rock wall. He lifted the keys with a small box I thought was a key chain between his fingers. He aimed it at the wall, and suddenly the rock moved.

  My jaw hit the floor as I felt as if I’d landed in a Bond movie. I would have asked Striker a million questions if he wasn’t slowly approaching the narrow opening. I had no desire to become a statistic. The rolling of the water wasn’t helping, and I didn’t want to mess with his concentration.

  But he threaded the needle, getting us past the entrance and into some kind of hidden cove. I turned around and watched as the wall closed behind us.

  “Holy hell,” I murmured.

  He stopped the boat by a small pier and got out to tie us to the dock. Then he came and got me. “Ready?”

 

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