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

Page 6

by Terri E. Laine


  “Why don’t you come to bed? It’s really not fair that you’re out here in a hammock and I’m in a bed. Chivalry is great, but it doesn’t make me feel good.”

  Chivalry had nothing to do with it. I didn’t want my nightmares to cross into the present and Lizzy be caught in its crossfire. “It’s okay. I’m not going to sleep anyway. I have work to do.”

  “Work? It’s what the fuck o’clock in the morning.”

  I remembered the night I’d seen her in my loft. She’d said something like that to Griffin. “Some of us have night jobs.”

  “What? The club? Do you work at the club you had me visit?”

  “I own the club.”

  “Oh, of course you do. What was I thinking? That a billionaire’s son actually had a nine-to-five?”

  “Says the millionaire’s daughter who owns her gallery in her twenties.”

  She aimed a finger at me. “You know my age, don’t you?”

  I shrugged. “You graduated from Boston University, what, last year?”

  Her jaw dropped.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I said. “It’s all on your website. You know, the ‘about me’ page?”

  She shut her mouth.

  “Now go to sleep. Sorry I woke you.”

  “One day, I’m going to find out more about you,” she said before heading inside.

  That was a day I hoped she would never see. My life wasn’t the thing of fairytales like my brother thought. I had real life demons who I’d like to one day slay because of that boy, Lonnie, I’d been unable to protect.

  Our years at the school hadn’t been kinder to him than to me. Though I’d grown taller, he’d remained smaller than most. And though he hadn’t seemed as though he had the strength of other boys our age, he’d managed to take his life. He hung himself, unable to endure one more night of torment.

  Instead of me saving him, he’d eventually saved me. His suicide confession about the abuse he’d suffered had led to an investigation by his angry parents. He hadn’t told them. They’d found out the truth in his final letter.

  Though Mr. Payne was removed from the school, Lonnie hadn’t written the given names of the boys. He’d written their nicknames, like the ringleader, Ruin. Even with his sacrifice, no one else, including me, came forward. Shame had been my excuse.

  I wasn’t strong enough then to come forward, but I’d vowed I would be stronger in other ways. I would fight. I no longer roomed in the younger boys’ group dormitory as I was too old and been moved to an individual room on another floor. Yet I spent my nights camped in front of doors of that dormitory to make sure not another boy would be harmed. I also spent a lot of time in the gym, building up muscle in order to back up the threat I wanted to pose.

  Nowadays, I watched the little monsters who’d tortured me then. Some of them hadn’t given up the appetites they’d learned from Payne. They would all pay if it was the last thing I did.

  I forced those thoughts away and went to the boat to get the satellite phone. My first call was not to my brother, who had enough on his plate with a new bride, but Griffin.

  “Hello, brother,” he said.

  That was new. Griffin despised me. “Should I wait for the knife at my back?”

  He laughed. “I thought you were a little shite, but I’ve changed my mind.”

  “I’ve earned your respect?” Not that I’d needed it.

  “Let’s say you’re not the dobber I thought you were.”

  I waited for some yer and ayes, but that was more my brother.

  “Are we friends then?” I joked.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, the Scottish accent more pronounced.

  “Are you giving up on Lizzy?”

  “She’s your wife. She’s made her choice.”

  “A good one. Now you can pursue the Dubai princess. Does her father know?”

  “She’s a friend.”

  “Ah. Still, does her father know?”

  “What did you tell me when I asked about Lizzy? Mind yer business?”

  “I wouldn’t have used yer,” I said in jest. “Any word on Matt?”

  “Not any more than I’ve already told you.”

  “You need to make contact. Lizzy will not give up on hearing from him.”

  “I know that. Bye now, little brother. Keep our girl safe.”

  And he was gone. Though he claimed we weren’t friends, I had a feeling wherever we stood had turned a corner.

  My next call was to Eliza.

  “Boss,” she said.

  “How did it go tonight?” I had access to my private servers and would go through the footage, but I wanted to hear from her first.

  “Fine. Nothing happened.”

  “Good.”

  “When will you be back?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said.

  “I remember a time you used to tell me everything.”

  “So do I.”

  If she’d been waiting for me to say more, she was disappointed. “Fine. I’ll handle everything. You need not worry.”

  “That’s all I want to hear.”

  When the call ended, I realized I had no regret for the loss of our friendship. She was important for now, but replaceable. Something I hadn’t thought was possible. Eliza had been such an important person in my life, there was a time I couldn’t have imagined life without her. Now I felt oddly free.

  The other thing I realized was that the club wasn’t as important to me as I thought. Out of all the places in the world, I felt I should be here with Lizzy. That in itself should have scared me, but it didn’t.

  As the sky brightened, I made my way back to the house. Though I hadn’t been here before, the instructions I’d gotten in advance had been thorough.

  There in the pool, doing laps, was my blonde. When she rose out of the water, my cock could have punched through my pants.

  “Hey, handsome,” she said. “I’m glad you’re awake. I’m going to make you breakfast.”

  “Are you trying to kill me?”

  She laughed. “What?”

  “You’re being nice and you’re offering to cook, which in itself could be a death sentence.”

  She waved me off. “You’re not spoiling my mood. Plus, I can make an omelet.”

  “We have food for a week or more if we don’t waste it. Maybe I should cook,” I offered jokingly.

  “I owe you a meal and I’m going to make you breakfast. Sit, you look tired.”

  Women. I had no idea what change had come over her. No snarky comments. No million questions. Something had to be up, but I wasn’t sure what it was.

  Dutifully, I sat as she fluttered around the kitchen.

  “Who stocked the place?” she asked. “Don’t answer. I know the drill.”

  “They knew we were coming.”

  “The guy on the pier.”

  “You noticed that?” I asked.

  She bobbed her head and went back to opening and shutting cabinets as she learned where everything was. Though I wondered if I would be able to smile and eat if what she made me wasn’t any good, by the time she set a plate in front of me, I didn’t have to worry.

  “Grilled cheese and an omelet,” she announced. Her grin was all teeth. “The two things I can make. You like?”

  It was actually pretty good. “It’s almost like being back at the frat house, eating whatever we could find.”

  “It’s good to feel young again,” she said with a cheeky grin.

  “I’m not that old.”

  “How old are you?”

  “So now you want to know more about me?” I questioned.

  “We are married. We might as well get to know each other better.”

  “I’m just a few years older than you.”

  “What’s a few?”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t check that out when you were looking at my driver’s license.”

  She held up a hand. “Let’s not go there. How about where did you go to school?”

&n
bsp; “I went to boarding school, then off to Wharton.”

  “Impressive. Are you your father’s protégé?”

  I shook my head. “No, much to his disappointment. I didn’t turn out to be the money-hungry son he’d hoped for. Kalen’s better for that role.”

  “He’s money hungry?”

  “No, but he’s in the business of making money.”

  “What are you in the business of? Saving the world?”

  “Something like that.” Needing a change of subject, I said, “And you went to Boston University.”

  She nodded. “I did. I’d planned to go to Columbia, but I followed my brother to Boston and that bugger transferred to the University of Chicago our second year.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “No. Matt’s the secretive type. But it was okay. I had Bailey by then. She’s the sister I’d always wanted.”

  “Kalen got lucky there.”

  “He sure did. I make sure to tell him every time I see him.” Things quieted for a second before she came at me with a dreaded question. “Have you ever been in love?”

  Had I? “No.”

  “I should have figured as much.”

  She had no idea why I’d never love anyone. There were so many fucked up reasons, and trust was one of the biggest.

  “What about girlfriends?” she asked.

  “I don’t do girlfriends. But you’re not off the hook. Have you ever been in love?”

  She glanced away when she said, “Once.”

  “Are you going to tell me?”

  When she nodded, I wanted to kill whoever it was. Not just because he’d been lucky enough to have that gift, but because of the haunted look in her eye.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Eleven

  Lizzy

  There were some stories you never wanted to retell. This was one of them. But for some reason, I began the story I’d never even told my best friend.

  “A new boy transferred to our school—Beau Roach. It was the biggest news since someone leaving because their parents had a financial fall from grace.” I glanced up from under the hair I’d allowed to fall forward to partially hide me.

  Striker’s face held no judgment, but I could tell he was tense. Maybe it was the line of muscles in his neck or jaw. I wanted to clam up because who wanted to reveal these things to anyone?

  “Every girl in school wanted him to be hers, and every boy wanted to be him or with him. He had that perfect combination of confidence bordering on cocky and charming.”

  “All the perfect Cs.”

  “I guess. He was crude too. But stupidly, I found that charming as well.” I sighed. In retrospect, I could see the warning bells I’d missed. “I wasn’t one of those girls who fell easily. It took a while before I let my walls down enough that I would even go out with him. He worked hard at it.”

  Striker smiled some. “I bet he did.”

  “There were things I didn’t compromise. One of them, my virginity.” When his smile slipped, I knew he’d clued in where I was going. “Beau was respectful and told me he would wait. And he did—for a while. He convinced me to go to this party I hadn’t really wanted to go to. The guy throwing it didn’t have a good reputation.”

  I’d asked myself many times if I hadn’t gone, would things have turned out differently? A counselor I’d spoken to had said it likely would have happened on another day, assuming I’d continue to deny him, but who really knew?

  “Stupidly, I let him talk me into drinking. When I’d had a little too much, he suggested I go sleep it off in one of the rooms. I trusted him and followed.” I closed my eyes as the night flooded back in. “I’ll spare you the details, but you can guess.”

  Still, it played out in my mind. How he’d lain there with me and touched me. We’d done plenty of things, but this time when I said stop, he didn’t. I remembered begging him and trying to fight him off. None of it worked.

  “Did you tell anyone?”

  I nodded. “My parents. Before you ask, they believed me. They took me to the authorities. I sat through hours of completing a rape kit, but it turned out to be unnecessary.” I read the confusion in his gaze. “Beau’s family is wealthy. I overheard their lawyers threatening to ruin my parents, and I couldn’t let that happen. Without them knowing, I told the police I was lying.”

  Falling on my sword, so to speak, for my family had labeled me a liar. School became a hated place as everyone looked at me like the girl who’d cried wolf. I lost friends. I lost my dream of going to Columbia—Beau’s parents were on the alumni committee. I went to Boston University instead, following my brother. It turned out okay. I’d made a friend for life in Bailey.

  “If I’d been there, I’d have killed him,” Striker said.

  “Believe me, my brother made him pay. He was suspended for the beating he put on Beau. His parents threatened to press charges. I threatened to reinstate mine. The police still had the rape kit that showed the abrasions and his DNA. They dropped their threats.”

  “I still want to kill him,” he repeated.

  “There was a time I would have killed him myself. But I’m over it.”

  His brow lifted. “Are you sure about that?”

  Honesty, right, I thought. “Okay, I’m not completely over it. I’m over him,” I declared. “And maybe I have some trust issues.” He gave me a look, urging me to think about my statement. “Fine. I have trust issues. But if I’m being honest, it’s more about trusting myself. Here I believed this guy. I loved him and thought he had my best interest at heart, and I was wrong.”

  I swiped at an errant tear that escaped my eye. He got up and kneeled at my side. Then he caught my face in his big hands, turned me to face him and wiped gently at the stream of moisture leaking from my eyes.

  “omeone who wrongs you doesn’t make you the fool. It makes that person foolish for not honoring the gift of trust they’ve been given.” Who was this man? He was saying all the right things as my heart felt heavy from the past. “And no one can blame you for finding it hard to trust again. But don’t give up on it. There are those that would cherish that gift,” he said.

  I nodded as my lips trembled, wondering if he’d meant himself.

  When he got to his feet and went back to his chair, on one hand I was grateful. It gave me a chance to hold back the torrent of tears that threaten to spill over, which I hated. On the other, I wanted that contact back. I got up and stalked over to him. “Let’s not talk about this.”

  As I got closer, Striker leaned back so he could meet my eyes better. I made it easier for him and straddled his lap.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, but he didn’t sound unhappy about it.

  I’d long ago come to terms with the past. I didn’t want it invading my present. “I don’t want those memories in my head. Help me erase them.”

  “Princess,” he said, sounding hoarse.

  Remembering his words that he wouldn’t touch me unless I begged, I said, “Please.”

  And as he snapped, his mouth crushed mine as if he wanted to win a war. His hands got busy removing my bikini top. Then plates crashed to the floor before my ass was in their place.

  I would have to consider the designer who made the bikini. It tore like paper in his hands. His mouth was hot as his tongue circled my clit. He hoisted my legs over his broad shoulders and pulled me closer as he thrust his tongue deep inside me. My back arched from the pleasure that built fast. The band between my core and my brain tightened. His fingers played with my nipples until everything snapped and I came with abandon.

  The man was a master and he didn’t stop until my inner walls calmed. When he pulled back, I recognized his haunted eyes.

  “Don’t stop,” I begged because if I was right, he needed this as much as I did. “I’m saying yes, and I need ownership of that.”

  Everyone had their own way of dealing with trauma. This was mine. Reclaiming my right to say yes was healing for me. I unclamped my legs from around him a
nd he stood. I spread my legs wide in invitation and hoped he’d accept.

  He hooked his thumbs in the shorts he was wearing and pushed them down. His amazing cock sprang free and aimed at me. He planted his hands on either side of my head and dipped down. I opened my mouth, giving his tongue access.

  He kissed me slowly until I grabbed his ass and pulled him toward me. His left hand disappeared to angle his cock at my opening. When he plunged forward, it was like coming home. He felt like home. Like everything I’d been missing all of these months was finally whole.

  Tears leaked from my eyes for the girl who’d had her innocence stolen. Also for what I feared had happened to the man above me. I clung to him, not wanting him to see me cry. Knowing him as I did, he would stop and that was the last thing I wanted.

  To fan the flames between us, I slipped my hand around and stroked his balls.

  He groaned. “If you don’t stop, this is going to end soon.”

  Feeling as though you had the kind of power to bring a man to his knees was a rush. I didn’t stop.

  He lost a step in his rhythm. He got me back by using his thumb to circle my clit until we were both coming as though our lives depended on it. He hovered above me, muscles bunches as his one arm kept him from crushing me as we caught our breaths. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt him retreating.

  I used my hand to turn his face back to mine. “Don’t leave me,” I begged. “Stay with me.”

  He nodded, and soon I was airborne in his arms. I wound my legs around his waist as he walked us back toward the bedroom. We ended up in the shower. Powerful jets from multiple angles came on and at the proper temperature. Then my back was against the tiled wall and he buried his face in my neck.

  Water maybe mixed with tears wet my skin as my emotions continued to spill from my eyes. There was so much ugliness in the world, but as Striker miraculously moved inside me again, I felt everything beautiful in this man.

  What I felt in that moment was more than I had for any man. Was it love? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t have a frame of reference outside of my family and Bailey. This was different. What I did know as we rocked together slowly and his tender kiss devoured any remnants of past pain was that we weren’t fucking. We were doing what I’d never done before—making love.

 

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