The Arrogant Architect

by LK Collins

  “You two were really close?” he asks.

  “Extremely.”

  “Your dad seems to be doing well.”

  “He has his days.”

  “What helps?” King asks me, and I get up grabbing one of the letters that my mom wrote to me. Passing it to him, he wipes his face and hands before taking it from me and then reads her words. He swallows, processing the letter. I can see he doesn’t understand how she sends them, now that she’s gone, and I help coax him along.

  “Before she passed she had a long battle with cancer and wrote letters to both my dad and I. Every year on our birthdays, they come.”

  “Who sends them?” he asks me.

  “We don’t know. We didn’t know she was going to do this.”

  “I bet it’s nice to get them,” he says passing the frame back to me.

  “It is, but it’s hard at the same time. Every year, it’s like I have to mourn her death all over again, but this is what she wanted, and for a brief moment, the letters give me relief.”

  “I couldn’t imagine, I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you. You’ve sure said ‘sorry’ a lot today.”

  He looks out the window and smirks shaking his head. “I’ve probably said it more today than I have my entire life.”

  “Well, cheers to that.” I raise my cheap beer and he taps it with his water.

  After dinner and cleaning the kitchen, King takes my face in the palms of his hands. “Thank you for a perfect evening.” Very tenderly he kisses me, awakening my body. I let him take as much time as he needs, caressing his tongue over mine. My nipples harden from the simple touch of his forearms, but it’s not long until he pulls away and heads for my front door.

  I stand frozen in the middle of my living room, so confused and utterly pissed off that he’s going to kiss me like that and then walk away. He doesn’t look back as he leaves and I could scream.

  Lowering myself onto the couch, I blink a few times. What in the world just happened? Does my breath stink? Getting up, I open my front door, surely he’s messing with me…and then run outside, but he’s gone. Going back in, I search for my phone, knowing I need him back here, now. Stripping down to my bra and panties, I snap a pic and send it to him. Why did you leave like that?

  He calls me right away, and I stare at the screen for a moment before answering. “Hey.”

  “Goddammit, Ever, are you trying to kill me?” he scolds me and I can’t help but giggle.

  “No. Why would you think that?”

  “I’m fuckin’ driving and…and…and…you’re texting me a picture like that?”

  “Why did you leave?”

  “Because I’m trying to not control you, to respect you and your wishes. You asked me for dinner and that was it.”

  “Dammit, King, I said let’s start with dinner.”

  “Well, how am I supposed to know when the night’s over with?”

  “When I ask you to leave, how’s that?”

  “My cock can’t take this, Ever. I need to get home and…jerk off.”

  I chuckle, imagining how sexually frustrated he is. “So do I.”

  He breathes into the phone loudly and asks me, “What?” like he doesn’t understand me.

  “I need to come, King. Can you help me?”

  I lie back on my bed and slide my hand into my panties, releasing a breathy groan.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Touching my pussy, like you were about to earlier.”

  “Motherfucker,” he grumbles and then says, “I’m still driving; do you want me to die?”

  “Ohhhhh fuck,” I moan, massaging my clit. The friction feels so good.

  “Ever?” he yells.

  “Uh huh?”

  “I need you to specifically tell me what to do right now.”

  “Oh fuck, King. Yes…right there.”

  “Christ,” he growls and I ask him, “Are you touching yourself?”

  “No.”

  “Pull over.”

  “You’re fucking crazy, you know that? Remember this the next time you try and tell me I am.”

  “Grab your cock.”

  He grunts into the phone and I ask him, “Where are you?”

  “I don’t know, the side of the road somewhere.”

  “Is your dick hard?”

  “Yes. Fuck yes.”

  “Stroke it,” I order him, unbelievably turned on, so hot and horny as I touch myself and imagine him sitting in his car, doing the same, listening to my commands.

  He grunts and says, “Finger yourself.”

  Right away I slide a finger inside, still rubbing my clit with my thumb. “You’re such a dirty girl,” he says and I add a second finger.

  “Oh God, it feels like you’re inside me.”

  “Yeah? You’d like me slamming your tight little cunt, huh?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “That’s it,” he tells me, “Take all of me.”

  “I wanna come.”

  “Yeah?” he confirms.

  “Yes.” My heart rate is through the roof doing this with him.

  “Can I come inside you?”

  “Fuck yes,” I shout and my body spirals, shaking as my orgasm rolls through me. King groans on the other end of the phone. My toes are curled, enjoying the bliss, and as I finally come back to reality, he says, “I need about ten more of those.”

  “The door is open, I’ll be waiting for you.” I hang up, giddy on the inside like a teenage girl as I fly out of my bed and wash my hands and brush my teeth. Then I tousle my hair and hear the front door slam. I look back and King is staring at me shirtless in the reflection of the mirror and I ask him, “Where’s your shirt?”

  “I came in it.” A grin spreads from ear to ear and I think about him in that expensive ass car, jerking his cock and coming into his shirt. “And it was my favorite,” he complains.

  “You don’t need it here.” I step to him, loving the way his eyes eat my body alive. Reaching down with my hand, I cup his dick through his pants and say, “Still hard for me?”

  He rubs his nose against mine, his eyes are closed as here aches two fingers into my bra, teasing one of my nipples. Leaning into him with my mouth, I kiss his neck and throat as I make a trail across his chest and down his sculpted abs. Reaching the top of his jeans, I unbutton and unzip them. “Take your bra off,” he orders me. Quickly I unclasp it and slide it down my arms.

  He grabs both of my tits, massaging them, but not for long as I drop to my knees, ready for what he’s about to give me. Sliding his pants down, I kiss his dick through his underwear. He brushes my hair to the side and I slide them down, his huge cock springing free, and the second that it’s out, he grips it, urging it towards my mouth, holding snugly at the base.

  Opening my lips, I take him in, loving his taste, so sweet. Moving my head up and down, I work his length, getting to know his every detail as he begins to test my limits, pushing himself in a little further each time. I keep my breathing in control to stop from gagging. His fingers are wound into the back of my hair and I can tell he’s working hard to keep from pushing things too far, too fast. But I want more of him. Taking my hand, I reach between his legs and splay my fingers over his tight ass and keep pushing him, urging him to fill my mouth. He looks down at me, groaning, his mouth hung open and I realize then as my nose is touching his stomach that this is it. “You like your mouth around my cock, don’t you?”

  I nod the best I can as I swallow him up. My pussy is dripping wet. This is so different than I thought it would be. He’s so gentle, not rough at all as we work so well together. His grunts deepen and he asks me, “Do you want my cum?”

  “Mmmhhh,” I hum against his length, and he lets go of his dick, holding onto both sides of my face as he comes down my throat. I swallow his warmth right up.

  Both of us are out of breath as he pulls out of my mouth and removes my panties, before gently setting me down on the counter. He studies my pussy like it’s a work of art and as
ks me, “Are you on the pill?” I nod once and before I can say anything, he’s buried deep inside me. I reach for anything to hold onto as my back is crushed against the mirror. He feels un-fucking-believable, holding onto my hips, as I look down at him moving in and out of me. Already ready to come, never having been with a man so eager or so into me the way that King is.

  The sound of our bodies echoes off the tile bathroom walls, and he pulls me closer to him, his arms locked behind my back as he kisses my neck, slamming into me. I hold onto him, feeling so full of bliss that it’s unreal. Everything is blazing from my head to my toes.

  “Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans and it pushes me over the edge. His hard cock stuffing in and out of me, it’s too much to fight back the orgasm and my body trembles from the inside out.

  “Yes, King,” I scream with my hand buried in his hair, and then he tenses for a moment before shuddering and coming himself.

  “Goddamn,” he bellows, slowly milking his dick inside me.

  I can’t get rid of the smile that is on my face, looking into his blue eyes as he is so breathless. With his cock still inside of me, neither of us moves or says a thing. Our bodies still connected together, the strum of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips and what he just did to me, has my mind spinning.

  Chapter 14

  “Will you call in today?” King asks me, naked and wrapped around me like an octopus.

  “I can’t. My boss already hates me after the incident with you on my birthday.”

  “I’ll come in with you and tell him it was all a mistake.”

  “Oh, now you wanna help?” I tease him.

  “I wanted to then.”

  “Then why didn’t you?”

  “Because you made me mad.”

  “What, are you in kindergarten?” I ask him.

  “I feel like it some days. Come on, call in. I’ll pay you whatever you make in an entire year to hang out with me today.”

  “See? There you go again. You’ve got to stop– you can’t throw your money around to try and get your way.”

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, using his newfound word wisely.

  “Come on, get up and I’ll cook you breakfast.”

  “Please?” he begs me in a last-ditch attempt. There is pain in his eyes, and for a brief moment, I actually consider calling in today.

  “No, no, no.” I throw the covers off us and squirm out of his hold. Looking back at my bed, he is so gorgeous, sprawled naked across it like a sex god sent down from the heavens.

  “Please?” he begs me one last time, reaching for me and I toss him his pants from the bathroom floor and walk out to the kitchen wearing my thin baby blue robe. “Do you like pancakes?” I ask him.

  “I like pussy.”

  “King,” I scold him.

  I see him wrestling with his pants out of the corner of my eye, and I begin to prepare our meal. He comes out of my room with the silver-framed letter from my mom in his hand and says, “Was this from her this year? When I made a terrible mess of the day?”

  “It was.” I take the frame from him, rereading her letter, and it still breaks my heart. The other night, I started unpacking and her letters are items I got out of the boxes first. Setting it on the counter, I change the subject, knowing that I don’t want to go back to that dark place right now. “What do you have planned today?”

  “Nothing, I cleared my whole calendar for you.”

  “Stop it, you did no such thing.”

  “I did too.”

  I pour the batter onto the hot cast iron skillet and King looks up at the one hanging from the ceiling that he bought me and asks, “Are you ever gonna use this one?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s got so much history to it that I don’t even think I can wash it.”

  He nods in apparent understanding and I tell him, “There’s coffee in the pot and cream in the fridge.”

  “Do you want a cup?” he asks.

  “Sure.” Then I tell him how I like it and watch how precisely he makes it. “Are you a perfectionist at everything?” I ask him.

  He stops stirring and looks over at me. “Why would you think that?”

  “I don’t know, the way you do things, and dress, and analyze everything.”

  “How about how I fuck?” he asks, handing me the coffee as I take a plate out of the cabinet to put the pancakes on.

  “And that too.”

  “So you liked it?”

  “A lot.”

  “Good, that was my goal. You do have a fine pussy. When can I enter it again?”

  “I’m off work at six.”

  “Can I pick you up?”

  “Sure, that would be great.”

  Taking a warm pancake, I tear a piece off and place it in his mouth. He eats it so happily, moaning each time he chews. “You like it?”

  “I fuckin’ love it. I could eat mine just like this.”

  “Really?” I ask and he nods at the plate insinuating that I give him more. Taking another piece, I take a bite and then give him some. We stand together in my kitchen, eating our entire breakfast this way. I’ve never fed another person, but feeding King has got to be the sexiest thing in the entire world.

  _____

  “Faster,” Ross yells at me as I whip a bowl of glaze for the steak that Emilio is pulling off the grill. “Yes, Chef,” I yell.

  For some reason Ross let me back on the main line today and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because he’s testing me again and thinks I’ll fail, or maybe ‘cause King ended up calling him after all, and told him the blow up thing was his friend being a dick and not my fault. Not sure if he believed him, but whatever, I really don’t care. It feels so good to be back in this place. My arm is burning from hand whipping the glaze, but the pain is worth it. Emilio sets the steak down and says, “One filet mignon, medium rare, Chef.” I drizzle the glaze over it and add the sides, then wipe the plate clean as I yell, “Order up,” placing it in the window with the ticket.

  “All right, everyone, shift swap. Lunch crew, you’re out. Dinner crew, you’re up,” Ross says and like a well-oiled machine we all trade places. It’s one of the perks of working here. Our days are never twelve to sixteen hours like most chefs, instead eight to ten hours at the most. Stepping back from my post that I manned all day, my fingers are sore and my back is burning.

  “Great job today, Ever,” Ross says, walking into the office.

  “Thanks,” I respond, shocked by his words. It is the first compliment he has given me in a long time.

  Changing out of my clothes into the spare I brought with me in the bathroom, I then wash my hands and spray some perfume on me to hide the food smell that sticks with me after work. Digging in my purse for some gum, my phone chimes and I see a message from King. I’m here.

  I’ll be right out.

  “Bye, guys,” I say as I wave and walk out the back door.

  King is parked in the exact spot he dropped me off at this morning and he spots me right away. Getting out of his car, he hugs me tightly, nuzzling my neck before kissing my lips. “I missed you,” he says.

  “Me too.” And it’s the truth, when my mind wasn’t consumed with a million orders, I was thinking about him and the time we spent together.

  He opens the door for me and I slide right in, loving finally being off my feet.

  He gets in too and I tell him, “Sorry if I stink.”

  “You don’t stink. What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t care,” I tell him. “What do you do on Sunday nights?”

  “Well, typically I volunteer at the senior center and then pick a hooker up on my way home. That’s after I bet on a few illegal cockfights.”

  “Classy. Sign me up for all of that. Can I get my own hooker though?”

  “Sure, why not?” he grins and then says, “For real though, I really don’t do much. I work and go to the gym, then relax and work on my current projects.”

  “Relaxing sounds nice. I’m sore from today.”


  “I have a hot tub, if you wanna soak for a bit.”

  “Oh my God. Yes, I’d love to. Could you stop at my house so I can grab a swimming suit?”

  “You won’t need one.”

  “No?” I question.

  “No, I mean, if you wanna grab one, that’s fine, I’d love to see you in it, but I’ll have you naked before you hit the water. My balls are screaming at me, thinking of everything we did yesterday. I could barely get any work done today.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “So you calling in tomorrow, or what?”

  “Don’t have to, Mistee is working for me. She needs the money.”

  “You asked?” he gasps.“I’m surprised.”

  “Are you?”

  “No, I knew you’d come to your senses. So, I’ve got twenty-four hours with you all alone?”

  “More like thirty-six.”

  He looks over at me with that grin and it turns me on tremendously. I’m not sure what to expect over the next thirty-six hours, but if it involves King and sex and a hot tub, I don’t think there is anything better in the world.

  Chapter 15

  Pulling up to King’s lavish home, it is amazing and not at all what I expected him to live in. I thought his house would be modern with all sorts of angled roofs and lots of glass, but this is the complete opposite. He puts his car in park as I gaze out at the six carved pillars that hold up the two-story marble fortress. They look like they are dubbed from the White House and I say, “Do you just park right here?”

  “Yeah,” he responds with a grin on his face. “Where else would I park?”

  Still ogling his massive Old World home that is a stone’s throw away from me, I tell him, “I don’t know…a garage?”

  “It’s a farther walk and you’re sore from work.”

  “You know…you really do have a nice side to you; you should show it more often.”

  He rolls his eyes and says, “Nah, I really don’t.” Then he gets out of the car and helps me out. Standing with him, we admire his home and I ask him, “Did you design this?”

  “I wish. I restored it. It was pretty run down when I bought it.”