Heartless King

by Hughes, Maya

  She yelped and looped her arms around my neck, burying her face in the crook and peppering it with nibbles and kisses.

  We made it as far as the couch. Sometime soon, we’d have sex in a bed, but today wasn’t that day; at least not the first time.

  My dick swelled against the front of my jeans as her fingers toyed with the hair at the back of my neck.

  I set her down on the couch and her fingers flew to my waistband. She made quick work of the buttons and zipper, and peeked up at me with a mischievous smile as she ran her fingers down over my ass, pushing the jeans down as she went.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the bedroom?” Her fingers were wrapped around my throbbing dick. She tightened her grip and moved her hand up and down my length. Like I could carry on a conversation while her lips were inches away from my crown.

  “Let’s not get carr—” A noise escaped my lips as she wrapped her lips around my head and used her tongue to torture me.

  “Nope, not happening.” I jerked my hips back and pushed her down on the couch, settling myself between her hips before she could protest.

  Her fingers squeezed at my back and she lifted her head, watching as I pushed inside her.

  I gritted my teeth, trying to keep myself in check. The vise-like grip of her pussy was a masterpiece, and I was seconds away from losing it.

  “Colm,” she moaned my name, moving one hand to the side of my cheek. “Are you with me?”

  I wanted to feel her hand on my skin without anything between us. Staring into her eyes, she seemed to know exactly what I needed.

  The depth of her gaze slowed down everything between us, even though our bodies worked frantically, chasing the sexual pleasure building with each thrust. But locked in her gaze, that euphoria reached down deep into me. It wasn’t just the physical connection between our bodies that I’d needed, but her seeing me.

  Her gaze locked onto mine, letting me know she was there with me the whole time. Our souls were twining around one another, winding together so tightly that even when we weren’t touching, the imprint of that touch would last forever.

  “I’m with you.” I powered into her.

  Her back arched off the couch and her eyes fluttered closed before she pulled me down on top of her for a kiss.

  I kept thrusting and grinding until she came apart in my arms, moaning and calling out against my lips that she was with me.

  That keening cry of hers broke my restraint and I let myself go. Trying to keep my weight off her, I came with spots dancing in front of my eyes. My feelings ping ponged between absolute bliss and excruciating pleasure.

  Panting with sweat rolling down the back of my neck, I braced my arms on either side of her.

  Her pebbled nipples rubbed against my chest and she stared back at me with a wide smile.

  She trailed her fingers down my sweaty neck. “How’s the knee?”

  Her words cleared some of the sexual fog. I’d had one leg planted on the floor and the other in the back of the couch. As if her words triggered all non-Imogen-focused senses to kick back online, my knee throbbed, angry at being bent that way.

  Instead of lifting her and carrying her into the bedroom like I’d have liked, we walked hand in hand.

  She fussed over my knee, grabbed my brace and put a moratorium on any more sex involving my legs for the rest of the night, which was fine by me when she climbed on top.

  I rolled her nipples and palmed her breasts as she rode me before collapsing onto my chest.

  I’d never thought dragging a wet cloth over someone’s body could be so sensual, but with Imogen everything was.

  Exquisitely ethereal. Even her gentle snores. Every bit of her was a perfection I’d never experienced before.

  I’d fucked up a lot in my life, but this felt right. Righter than anything I’d experienced in a long time. I didn’t care about the past when I was with her. All I could see was the future. Our future. As a family. Waking up beside her. Candlelit picnics in the middle of my living room floor. Chasing her with the hose while washing my car when I was only looking for an excuse to wet her down and make out pressed against my car. Falling asleep with my arms wrapped around her every night.

  She mumbled in her sleep and curled toward me. The gold chain that had been behind her back was now around her front. The hard metal pendant at the end dug into my arm. I shifted and lifted it. A simple silver ring. Preston’s. The one thing she hadn’t taken off tonight had been another man’s ring.

  My chest tightened, but then I looked closer. It wasn’t a man’s ring. It wasn’t Preston’s. Inside, I looked at the inscription. For my I, Love Forever P.

  I held onto her tighter. She grumbled and burrowed deeper into my chest. She still wore this ring he’d given her. What did that mean? It had been over five years since he was gone, but he still had a place in her heart. Was there room for me too?

  This was about her and me, it had been since the first time I saw her standing in the hospital hallway. Even when I had been surrounded by all those bad memories, her small smile had made the place less cold, scary and overwhelming.

  We’d been building to this since the night on the beach, when we’d sat and listened to music with the rolling waves as the backing band in the real world.

  She was the one woman that every other woman had been measured against and fallen abysmally short. Maybe that’s why I always sucked at finding the right person for me. I knew Imogen was out there, only she was someone else’s. But…she wasn’t. Not anymore. Maybe now we could belong to each other.

  But now I had to convince her that we could have something real. We could be a family. Just the two of us.

  I fell asleep with her tucked against my chest, her even breaths fanning across my skin. I’d never thought I’d feel this again. A warm, glowing ball grew in me with each rise and fall of her chest against mine. Home.

  23

  Imo

  Colm woke me throughout the night to eat—it just so happened I was the only thing on the menu. Waking on the verge of a toe-curling, back arching orgasm was definitely a different kind of wake-up call in the pitch black bedroom.

  Every muscle ached and sang with a release I hadn’t experienced—ever. Sleep dragged us both under when we’d had our fill of one another, only to wake to another round of hands, lips, and—well, another prominent appendage. Sweaty and sated I surrendered to his insatiable appetite until I had to finally call it.

  I tapped the bed beside me. “You win. I’m asking for a delay of game until the field can be relined.”

  He propped himself up on his elbows between my legs. “That mixed a few different sports analogies.”

  Lifting my head, I glared. “How is my brain supposed to function properly when you’re trying to scramble it out of me? My vagina needs a break. Was that a clear enough analogy?” I collapsed against the pillows.

  Crawling up my body, peppering my ribs with kisses, he settled against my side.

  “You’re not tired?” My eyelids were heavy. His beautiful face was the only thing I could make out through the barely open slits.

  “I feel like I’ve been sleeping for a long time. Now I’m finally awake.” He dragged his finger along my shoulder.

  “Good for you, but I’m beat. Let’s pick this up in the morning.” I shoved at his chest and he let me knock him down, flat on the bed. The challenge in the club had broken the invisible line between us that I’d kept trying to reestablish. I’d wanted to reset to a baseline and move within the sphere of our professional relationship. Although it had never been just that. He’d always had a way of seeing through what everyone else took as real.

  His gaze was always searching for more. Prodding for what was happening under the surface. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for me to sit with him on the beach or know what he needed on our first night together. Because I could do the same thing to him. We were each other’s Rosetta Stone, only the secrets we unlocked were the ones we each tried to hide, even fr
om ourselves.

  “You’re planning on being here, then?” The words were soft and quiet against the top of my head as he held me close.

  My heart skipped a beat. I’d hurt him. It was a reminder of my past screw-ups. I yawned, locking his arms around me tighter and snuggling closer against him.

  “I can barely move. You’d have to drag me out of the room by my feet to get me out of this bed in the morning.” The cooling perspiration and temperature in the room made it easy to be this close to him and he didn’t seem to mind. He draped his leg over mine like he was trying to pen me in against the possibility of an escape.

  “Good.”

  Silence and the darkness enveloped me and I didn’t feel that normal emptiness and hollowness. I felt warm and safe in Colm’s arms. With him there, the dark of night didn’t feel nearly as scary and unknown.

  * * *

  The solid warm block against my side shifted. Colm. There wasn’t any confusion or moment of panic. Maybe there should’ve been. He was a client. There were rules about getting involved with people we worked with, but nestled against his side with my cheek pressed against his warm skin, I didn’t care.

  This felt good. It felt right. It felt like waking up to a day that wouldn’t be something I had to push myself through, but could run toward.

  “Good morning.” He stared down at me, brushing my hair back from my face. Night Imogen had once again put me in bird’s nest territory.

  His fingertips traced the shell of my ear.

  “Morning.” How was it my voice sounded like a creaky door and his was like melted butter?

  “What time is it?” I squinted at the bright light shining through the window.

  “Do you have anywhere to be?” He propped his head up on his elbow and stared down at me.

  I flipped through the day in my mental calendar. A blank. “No, nowhere.”

  “And when was the last time you had one of those?”

  I stared up at the ceiling, trying to figure out the last time I’d allowed myself to have a day not jam packed with work, travel, or more work.

  A smile spread across my face. “April 23. Spring break my senior year of high school.”

  He dragged his finger down the front of my shoulder and along the top of the sheet wrapped around my chest. “That’s pretty specific and a long time ago.”

  “My parents took me away for a long weekend. They rented a house on a lake. I woke up early one morning because I was being a pissy teenager. I’d wanted us to go on Spring Break with Preston and his parents, but my parents wanted some time with just us.”

  Colm’s finger stopped its slow methodical torture along my neck and shoulder.

  “They knew if Preston and his family were there they’d never see me. So in the morning, I grabbed my phone, a blanket and a book and went exploring. There wasn’t any cell reception, which was another reason I was being such a pain. A whole 72 hours without my phone. Why didn’t they break out the iron maiden? There was a clearing and I walked into it, trying to find reception and when I looked up from my screen I froze.” Sunlight from the window washed over my face like it had the minute I stepped into the clearing. So warm and bright.

  “What did you see?” His voice was rougher than before.

  “It was a field of flowers. Every color. So many, as far as I could see. They were gorgeous and I forgot about my phone and spent—I don’t even know how long, just looking at them. Walking past and letting the petals rub against my fingers. I found a spot, laid out my blanket and read. But every so often, I’d sit up and stare at the beauty around me, not believing it was real. I dragged them back there and made us have a picnic. We stayed until it got dark and the field was taken over by lightning bugs.”

  “That sounds like a great day.”

  “It was the best day.” I looked over at him. It’s these small moments we have to cherish. “And the next day, driving back home we had the accident. The next day, they were gone.”

  He laced his fingers through mine with a reassuring hold. “I’m glad you got to have the best day with them.”

  “Me too.” I took a deep breath and glanced away. “How’s your leg after last night?”

  His eyes narrowed for a split second. “I’m not broken, Imo. No soreness. No pain. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “I know you hate that I ask, but it’s kind of my job.” I looked up at him.

  His jaw ticked. “Was this an alternative form of therapy last night?”

  I jerked away from him. “What? No.”

  “Good. If you’re not being my physiotherapist right now, then no more talk about my leg. New rule. If we’re not in a session, no asking about it at all.”

  My stomach grumbled like a velociraptor coming down the hallway.

  “Looks like I need to get you fed.”

  I stretched my arms over my head, and the sheet trapped around my chest slipped down an inch.

  Colm’s gaze shot to the spot like a hawk spotting a school of fish in the ocean.

  “But we could have some early morning fun.” He yanked the sheet all the way down.

  I yelped and scrunched my legs up, only to realize that didn’t exactly hide anything.

  The brightness of the morning sun lit up the room. It looked so different from the last time I’d been up here. No bottles of alcohol, no discarded clothes, and it smelled like it had the first night I’d been here. He was making so much progress. He was coming back to himself, even if he wouldn’t be who he’d been before. He’d be better.

  Colm climbed on top of me with his knees on either side of my hips and his arms on either side of my head. Raspberries were the next plan of attack. He blew them against the side of my neck.

  I screamed and yelped, pushing at his shoulders and laughing until there were tears in my eyes. His devilish fingers dropped lower to my stomach until a cramp coupled with my intense need to pee sent me into a full on roll complete with an elbow to the side of his head.

  “Ah!” He dropped to the bed beside me.

  “Oh shit, I’m sorry. So sorry.” I tugged his hand away from his face.

  He fingered the faint redness at the top of his cheek, which hopefully wouldn’t bloom into a black eye. “Bruiser Imogen coming out to play.”

  “Now you know the consequences of tickling me.” A stitch pinched my side. I cupped my hand over it and flipped over swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “Don’t mess with the pooch.”

  He scoffed. “Right, a pooch. Is it where you store rice cakes and water for winter?”

  The exact topic a woman wanted to broach naked with a man cut like he was chiseled from granite: her baked goods-induced widening now that fall was here and winter was quickly approaching.

  “Not like you’re pregnant or anything.” Colm laughed.

  I opened my mouth to let one out right alongside him, but the word was like the final tumbler clicking into place on a vault I’d never thought I’d open.

  The oversized box of tampons I’d bought over the summer that sat unopened.

  My mercurial appetite.

  My inability to stay awake for long stretches like I used to.

  My skyrocketing sensitivity last night.

  The joke reply caught in my throat.

  “Right?” He turned in the bed, jostling me.

  My half-sit on the edge became a full blown drop to the floor. I hadn’t had any spotting like I usually did in place of my normal periods.

  “Imo?” He dove for me across the mattress as I shifted up and we bumped heads.

  “Ow.”

  Groaning, he grabbed me and hauled me up onto the bed.

  I winced, rubbing my head and my ass in a much more painful version of the pat your head, rub your stomach game.

  “How’s your butt?” Shifting in the bed, he pulled me between his legs.

  The possible new reality hung between us, tense and anxiety-inducing. My mouth was dry and the tips of my fingers tingled. “Better than my head.”
r />   Tilting my head to the side, Colm inspected my forehead. “There’s a red spot and a bump already.”

  His fingers froze at the mention of bump.

  I licked my dry lips and brushed his hair aside, breathing in this last moment between us. “You have one too.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Are—could you be pregnant?”

  24

  Imo

  I cupped my hand over my stomach. “Things were hectic this summer and I wasn’t keeping track.” My gaze whipped up to his and I dropped it, staring down at his legs bracketing mine. Whisper quiet, I said the words that could turn our lives upside down. “It’s possible.”

  The words were barely past my lips and he was gone. He’d never moved faster or more nimbly. Snagging some sweatpants from a drawer, he shoved them on, stone-faced.

  My stomach knotted. I’d been worrying about entanglements and him wanting something more than I could give, but he looked ready to jump out the nearest window. “You stay, it’s your place. I’ll go.”

  He whirled around. “What? No! I’m not running off and neither are you. There’s a pharmacy around the corner. I’ll pick up a test and we can find out for sure.” He crouched down to tie his laces while his head whipped wildly back and forth, scanning the room.

  Some of the tightness eased. He wasn’t going to run from his own house like it was on fire… until after we got the confirmation.

  “As much as I’m sure they wouldn’t mind, you might want to put on a shirt first.” My attempt at a joke fell flat like a dirty gym towel hitting the floor.

  He glanced down at his bare chest, cursed under his breath and grabbed a t-shirt off the top of the pile in his drawer. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Pulling his shirt over his head, he disappeared out of the room.

  His footsteps thundered down the stairs and the door slammed seconds later.

  My clothes were downstairs and the club dress didn’t seem appropriate, given how my morning was going to go. One line or two would change everything.