Bad King

by M. Malone

  She’d worked in several clubs doing things that kept her up at night and she’d sworn one day things would be different. Her girls were allowed to do what they were comfortable with as long as they focused on giving the members elegance paired with eroticism. Sensuality was a beautiful thing and Olivia felt strongly that it should always be treated as such.

  Dita, her newest hire, was on stage performing a beautiful contemporary dance routine. Her classical training was evident as was her discomfort with being topless. She’d styled her long blond hair so that it draped over her bare breasts and between moves she kept swiping at it, as if trying to keep it in place. After working with her for the past three weeks, she was a lot better than when she first showed up. Even though Olivia’s initial instinct was not to hire her, something about her was familiar. Truthfully, she reminded Olivia of a younger version of herself.

  Inhibited, shy and drowning under the weight of others’ disapproval.

  She’d decided to give her a shot because she’d have never gotten anywhere if someone hadn’t extended the same hand to her. Plus, it was a challenge. She wondered if one day the same things that mortified Dita now would one day fuel her. If she’d come to crave the attention and the empowerment of owning her sexuality and flaunting it.

  While Dita danced, Olivia weaved her way through the gentlemen with a touch on the shoulder here and a brush against the cheek there. Their eyes followed her movements and she added a bit more swing to her step. Although she kept her eyes demurely lowered, all of her attention was on the dark-haired man in the back of the group. King. He’d been watching her with intense blue eyes ever since she walked in the room.

  Adrenaline stormed through her system, so heady she almost swayed on her heels. His attention was powerful, a drug that made her want to keep the hits coming. She loved it and hated it at the same time.

  When Dita finished her routine, Olivia found herself climbing the two short stairs to the mini-stage. She only performed now when she wanted to, long past the time where she danced for money.

  Now she did it for pleasure.

  Although there was a pole built into the stage, she ignored it and pulled a chair from behind the stage curtain. She turned it around and sat in it primly, holding up an imaginary mirror and pretending to fix her hair. All the eyes in the room followed her movements and when the music changed to an even slower tempo, she swayed like she was dancing alone in her room at home.

  She uncrossed her legs and then stretched down to caress her legs, stopping to unhook the ankle straps of her shoes. After pulling them off, she kicked them to the side of the stage and stood, swiveling her hips sensually to the music. Her robe slid down her arm and she allowed it, looking over her now bare shoulder.

  King sat forward in his chair, like he was on the verge of charging onstage to get to her.

  Emboldened, Olivia shimmied, swinging her hair back and forth sensually, really getting into it now. This was freedom, dancing however she wanted and not caring what anyone thought of her. Up here, she wasn’t worried about the club’s future, whether Bennett might find out what she did for a living or her broken relationship with her parents.

  Right here, right now, she was freedom incarnate.

  When the music ended, she turned and winked over her shoulder. Then she kicked the chair out of the way and strode off stage, head held high.

  She was magnificent.

  King watched her sensual dance, just as enraptured as everyone else in the room. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful, the word too tepid to describe something as vibrant as his angel.

  Angel. He snorted. There was no way that was her real name but it was strangely perfect for her. She had an unearthly sensuality, every one of her slow movements making him think of naked skin and sweat. She was a walking, talking embodiment of temptation. She was perfect.

  By the time she walked off stage, kicking the chair out of the way as she went, every man in the room practically had his tongue hanging out.

  Next to him, James clapped and pumped his fist in the air. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.” He glanced over at King. “You might have met your match with that one, man. She doesn’t look like she takes any shit.”

  King blinked, feeling like he was surfacing after being underwater for hours. Damn it, she’d already gotten under his skin making him wonder if she could take all of him at once or if he’d have to spend more time getting her little pussy ready for him. Whether she’d only be interested in his money or if she’d be that mythical creature he’d always assumed wasn’t real, a woman who could see him as just a man.

  Would she argue with him in bed too or would she let him take control?

  He wasn’t sure what kind of magic spell she’d weaved but he shook his head to clear the thought of tangled sheets and warm flesh. It was time to man up. Getting tied in knots over some woman was the last thing he needed. He had to focus. She wasn’t perfect. She was perfect to scandalize his parents.

  Huge difference.

  And as unearthly as she seemed, she was still a woman. Which meant she was motivated by greed, vanity and power, just like everyone else. All he needed was a chance to get her alone. He would make her an offer and hopefully they would both get what they wanted out of their time together. If they happened to have fantastic sex at the same time, well, he’d consider that a perk of the job.

  For the rest of the evening, King kept an eye on the stage curtain and the door she’d originally entered through. There were two other girls working the room and they kept the other guys more than happy, performing a tandem stage routine and then ending the night by giving the groom-to-be a joint lap dance that was unlike anything King had ever seen. He had to admit, Club Prestige had surpassed his expectations in every way. And since the Masquerade room insisted on anonymity with everyone wearing masks, he was less concerned about any pictures that might leak and find their way to the internet.

  It was a little after midnight when he saw his opportunity. Devin was passed out on the stage with a feather boa wrapped around his head. Several of the guys had already gone home and the ones that hadn’t would be soon. The door in the back of the room opened and his angel stuck her head in, surveying the scene. Trying not to look too interested, King motioned to James, who was bouncing one of the dancers on his lap.

  “Can you ride in the limo and make sure everyone gets home?”

  James nodded absently. “Sure thing. I’ll consider it overtime.”

  King rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I need to go get my future wife.”

  In his inebriated state, James found that hilarious. The dancer on his lap giggled and her full breasts swayed, slapping James in the face.

  King stood and stepped over the legs, arms and bodies on the floor. He’d stopped drinking hours ago, knowing he’d need all of his wits for this conversation. His angel looked up when he approached and something like fear appeared in her eyes. It was quickly banked behind a sharp, no-nonsense expression.

  Interesting, King thought.

  “Was the party to your liking, Mr. Kingsley?”

  “It was perfect. Devin is happy and so is the rest of my executive staff. Although it means I won’t be getting anything productive out of them for the next twenty-four hours, at least.”

  Her adorable little nose wrinkled. “But it’s the weekend?”

  Nothing could have illustrated the differences between them so clearly. King couldn’t remember the last time the weekend had represented relaxation time. Probably not since he was in grade school. Even in high school he’d been helping his father and learning the business.

  “Indeed.” He lowered his voice slightly. “This might seem a little strange but I wondered if I could speak with you after the party. I could drive you home.”

  The wariness re-entered her eyes. “Did you want to discuss the event? We pride ourselves on making sure our members have the fantasy experience of their dreams.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think any drea
m I’ve ever had could even compare. But no, it’s not about the event. It’s… a private matter.”

  She nodded. “I see. Why don’t you meet me at Shiney’s, the pub down the street, in a half hour?”

  It hit him then that she didn’t want to be alone with him. He kicked himself for not thinking of it but tried to lighten the situation with a little humor.

  “Afraid to be alone with me, angel?”

  The relief on her face proved that she’d been worried about how he’d react. She grinned up at him saucily.

  “Not afraid. Cautious. But perhaps you’re the one who should be afraid.”

  Unable to resist, he leaned a little closer, taking in the fresh, lilac scent of her. Of course, it went straight to his dick. He let out a breath and was grateful that they’d come directly from the office. His suit jacket was long enough to hide the huge bulge in his trousers.

  “Why is that? You don’t look scary to me.” His eyes roamed over her scantily clad form and he suppressed a groan when she turned, angling her round bottom in his direction.

  “Looks can be deceiving, Mr. Kingsley.”

  “King,” he interrupted. “Although I’ve been told it’s my fate, I’m not ready to turn into my father just yet.”

  She winked. “Whatever you say, Your Majesty. Just don’t be late.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Olivia leaned against the bar in Shiney’s Pub. It was crowded, which wasn’t unusual for the wee hours of a Saturday morning. Dupont Circle was known to be one of the hubs of D.C. nightlife and tonight was no exception. Girls in short dresses and guys in jeans and tight muscle shirts milled on the dance floor and around the pool table on the other side of the room. Shiney’s was known for loud music, dim lighting and strong drinks. The perfect place to meet a date when you weren’t sure if they were a psycho yet.

  What the hell are you doing?

  Olivia raised her eyebrows at the bartender and he nodded, indicating that he’d bring her another cranberry juice. It wasn’t her favorite after work beverage but she was already walking on the wild side tonight. If she was going to do something as foolish as meet a strange man after work, she definitely wasn’t going to do it with alcohol in her system.

  But what a man.

  She squirmed remembering how intense he’d been leaning over her, blue eyes fixed on her ass. It had been a really long time since she’d experienced pure, high-octane desire. This was no civilized thing. She didn’t want him to take her out for dinner and a movie with a polite kiss at the end. Oh no. She wanted his big hands on her breasts, his tongue in her mouth and to find out if that bulge in his pants was as big as it appeared. He made her want sex, pure and simple. Sweaty, rough, dirty sex. Sex that made her feel naughty and liberated all at the same time.

  It had been so long since she’d wanted a man. Truthfully, that was probably the only reason she’d said yes. It would probably be a shock to others since she dealt in fantasy but her own desires had been curiously dormant for years. Maybe it was because she was surrounded by eroticism at the club and she’d become immune to it. Nothing really pushed her buttons any more.

  She was bored.

  “A whisky. Neat.” An arm, lightly covered in dark hair, landed on the bar right next to her. King raised an eyebrow at her drink. “Please tell me there’s vodka in that?”

  She raised her glass, eyeing him over the brim. “Hoping to get me drunk?”

  “Of course. What kind of pervert would I be if I wasn’t trying to get you drunk?”

  Olivia shook her head, charmed in spite of herself. She snuck a glance at him, taking in the custom tailored suit and the watch that she identified as an Audemars Piguet. Expensive but classy. He was definitely their typical member. Wealthy, entitled and demanding. However, she hadn’t been expecting him to have a sense of humor.

  “So are you going to tell me about this personal matter now or do you want to ask for a background check first? Maybe take me to an underground bunker and interrogate me?”

  He accepted his drink from the bartender and took a long sip. “I get the sense that you think those are overkill? But once you find out about the job, you’ll probably prefer the bunker.”

  Intrigued, Olivia leaned toward him so she could hear better. “You want to offer me a job?” Then her common sense kicked in and she understood exactly what type of job a guy like him would offer to a girl like her.

  She pushed her drink away and pulled a twenty dollar bill out of her pocket, more than enough to cover her drinks and the tip.

  “Wait, you’re leaving?” King put his hand on her arm but pulled it back when she glared at him.

  “Yes. I’m going home. Despite what you probably think after meeting me at the club, I don’t fuck for money. I’m not interested in your job offer.” She made exaggerated quotation marks with her fingers.

  His eyebrows shot up. “Whoa! That’s not what I was getting at. I swear. This is a legit job offer. Nothing… inappropriate.”

  Olivia sat back down, feeling a little foolish. With her luck he’d turn out to be a potential investor in the club or something else completely legitimate and she’d feel even worse. What was it about this guy? He tied her in knots and made her feel like a teenage girl with her first crush. It was mortifying.

  “I’m sorry if I overreacted.”

  “No apology is necessary. I should have realized how it would sound.”

  Olivia laughed and then propped her head on her hand. “Regretting this yet? In case you can’t tell, I don’t get out much.”

  King smiled. “Not at all. You’re perfect. A woman who isn’t afraid to state her mind.”

  There was something in the way he said it that wasn’t exactly a compliment but Olivia was too tired to look for hidden meaning. This entire thing was likely a mistake. Her libido had always gotten her into trouble, that was how she’d ended up a pregnant, single college dropout before she was even twenty years old.

  She sat up straight and fixed a polite smile on her face. Whatever King wanted, she’d find a way to shut him down politely and then go on with her life. He was a Prestige member so she couldn’t afford to alienate him but it was high time she stopped letting her panties lead her around.

  Men had always been the root of all her troubles but Bennett was going to save her from all that. It was time to stop playing games and go for the right kind of man. Ben was her best friend and she already loved him.

  The rest would come with time, right?

  King couldn’t stop staring at her mouth.

  He took another swig of whisky, relishing the smooth burn as it traveled down and settled in the pit of his stomach.

  She sat up slightly and smiled at him, a wooden smile that didn’t reach her eyes. He’d seen that particular look plenty of times on his mother’s face when his father was droning on about something or other.

  “You’ve already decided you’re going to say no.”

  Surprise flickered in her eyes before she glanced away. Her fingers wrapped around her glass but there was nothing left but ice.

  “Look… King. I don’t want to be rude but I have a feeling whatever you’re going to ask me probably isn’t something I want to do.”

  “Oh really? You don’t like parties? Or eating exquisite cuisine? Or shopping for clothes and shoes that you don’t have to pay for? The job comes with a clothing allowance.”

  She dipped her head. “Go on. Not that I’m interested or anything.”

  King pressed his lips together to stifle a grin. “My parents have decided that I need to settle down. I’m the CEO of the family business and as a result, I haven’t had much time to meet anyone.”

  “They’re probably just worried about you,” she said.

  He grimaced. “That may be the case. But they’ve also decided that they’ll hand control over to my little brother if I don’t settle down. My little brother who at this very moment is probably out drinking, sleeping with anything on two legs and generally being as much of a spoil
ed brat as possible.”

  Olivia didn’t say anything but he could tell she was listening because she’d angled her head closer to him. It was impossible not to notice how long her eyelashes were or how the tips of her long, wavy hair brushed her lower back. She’d changed into street clothes but he could still see her sweet curves even beneath jeans and a leather jacket.

  “So, you need me to pretend to be your girlfriend? Come on. That only works in the movies. You don’t think your parents will find it suspicious that you suddenly have a girlfriend? They’re going to know you’re just pretending to placate them.”

  “I know.”

  Her mouth puckered into the most adorable little pout. Damn he was going to enjoy this. His parents would be appropriately scared off by her smart mouth and would leave him, and his position at Kingsley International, alone. Meanwhile, he was going to enjoy having that smart mouth all over him. He’d never been so happy about his parents meddling before.

  “Okay, maybe I’m just tired or perhaps there actually was vodka in the cranberry juice but I don’t get the point of this. Why bother having me pretend to be your girlfriend if your parents are going to know what you’re doing?”

  He couldn’t resist anymore so he tapped her softly on the end of the nose. She gasped softly and a faint flush covered her cheekbones.

  “Because, my sweet angel, my parents know me well. They aren’t expecting me to fall in love. They just want me to marry for appearances sake. My parents aren’t in love either. My mother’s family had some corporate holdings that my father’s family was interested in. So they married and now Kingsley International is one of the biggest banking and investing firms in the world.”

  “That sounds very cold.”

  “They seem happy enough. But apparently not so happy that they keep their nose out of my business. So here’s the deal. I have a meeting next month with some important European investors. I’ve spent years preparing for this deal. There is no way I can let them pull me off now and stick Colin in there.” He winced at just the thought.