by LK Collins
Looking out the window, I think back to tonight and sitting on that rock in his arms – it was so nice. For the first time in years, I had someone to turn to when I was in pain. It wasn’t everyone depending on me. He was there for me and comforted me and didn’t expect me to get over it because it’s been almost six years. It’s sad how quick-forgetting some people are when it comes to grief. After losing my mom, everyone I was close to didn’t have the patience for me. I can sense the people I work with are that way too – when I have a bad day, they don’t get it. It’s not like that with my dad…but we hide our pain from one another to try to help each other move on. But being with King tonight was different. It was nice to be myself and let my emotions go where they needed.
He comes walking out of the store carrying two bags, and there I go undressing him with my eyes. His cock bulge is straining his shorts and I shake the thought away. What is wrong with me? A few days ago, I detested him, and now…I’m looking at his dick.
He slides in the car and hands me a bag. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got one of everything.”
I look inside and there is an array of tiny liquor bottles. Every kind you could think of. “You know I was joking, right?”
“Were you?” he starts the car and pulls away, dead serious.
“Yes.”
“You’ve gotta stop doing that to me.”
Opening a bottle of 99 Bananas, I tell him, “If you really want to buy me something, you can buy me my own restaurant.” As I slam the bottle, he looks over at my lips wrapped around it and says, “Don’t fuck with me.”
I smirk, digging through the bag. I find another bottle and crack it open sipping on it as we pull up to my apartment. Like the gentleman I never knew he was, he opens my door and helps me out, or maybe it’s him being controlling. With liquor coursing through my veins, I really don’t care. Carrying my camel pack and goody bag of liquor upstairs, we both go inside. He sets my stuff down on the kitchen island, and the box with the exorbitantly expensive dress is still sitting there and he ignores it, like it’s…nothing.
“Thank you for going out with me tonight, Ever.” He cups my face. The shooters running through me are making me feel very brave as I nod my head, waiting for him to do whatever he wants.
Closing my eyes, he brushes his thumb over my lips and then pulls me against his chest. I hold on to him, like he’s the answer to all my problems. But he lets me go, grabbing his bag and coat off the chair. “Enjoy sleeping in tomorrow.”
“No noise?” I ask, still trying to catch my breath.
“Nope.”
He closes the door and like that is gone. Hours ago, I was not looking forward to tonight, and now, I want to go back to the beginning. Locking my door, I grab another mini bottle and take the dress with me as I schlep to my bedroom.
Tossing the box down, I slam the shot and lift the lid, pulling out the amazingly gorgeous, black satin and lace number. I’ve never seen anything like it – it looks like it’s straight out of a London fashion show. Getting undressed, I slip it on, and it fits like a glove. Grabbing my phone, I snap a picture of myself in the reflection of the mirror. Realizing the second that I send it to King I am naked underneath and this is not the best covering dress. If I zoom in on the picture, I can see the outline of my breasts.
Mmm, I like it a lot. Fits perfectly.
I’m not sure what to say. How do I respond? What am I even doing or thinking? Leaving my bedroom, I grab a few more shooters as the room begins to spin and sink down into my couch.
Send me another one?
NO.
Please?
Sticking my tongue out at him, I hold my phone above my face and snap the photo, then send it.
You’re gorgeous
King, Stop it, I just stuck my tongue out at you.
And I got hard looking at the picture.
Slamming another shot, I set my phone down, knowing that I am drunk and I am most likely going to do or say something that I’ll regret tomorrow. He’s fucking hard over me. Slinging my arm over my eyes, I ignore the insistent beeps of my phone. He’ll stop…he has to.
Chapter 11
“All right, all right, all right.” I shout. The banging on my front door is so loud that I feel like I’m being swallowed up whole by the noise.
As I open the door, I can see immediately my dad is panicked. I’m still wobbly and half drunk. He looks at me and I ask him, “What’s going on?”
“You didn’t meet me for breakfast, and you’re not answering your phone.”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Dad, but everything is fine,” I tell him and hug him, hating how worried sick he is. “Why didn’t you use your key to come in?”
“I left it at home. I didn’t know this was gonna happen. Then when you didn’t show and wouldn’t answer your phone, I panicked.”
“Well, I’m fine. I’m sorry you had to drive all the way out here. I need coffee and a shower, but I’m good.”
He smiles, now knowing that everything is okay and asks me, “What are you wearing?”
I look down at myself and wonder the same thing. Then I remember King’s text. Oh fuck, I made him hard. “Could you make some coffee, Dad? I’m gonna shower. I drank a little too much last night.”
Grabbing my phone off the table, I stumble into my bathroom and start the shower. Staring at the screen, before I open any messages there are seven missed texts from King and five calls from my dad. Looking at the texts, I get so embarrassed I could hide in the corner of my bathroom forever.
One more?
Please?
Then he texted me back a zoomed in picture of the dress and says, I can see your nipples.
They’re hard.
Goddammit, Ever, I fucking want you.
I guess I’m going to bed with blue balls…sleep well, gorgeous.
Sliding out of the dress, I step into the shower and want to scream as the water cascades around me. It’s been so long since I’ve had a guy talk to me like that, or even look in my direction, and now all of sudden this sexy and successful man…likes me. I have to text him back…but I’m so embarrassed for what I did last night. I’m not even sure what to say to him.
After I shower and get dressed in a comfy pair of jean shorts and a white t-shirt, I let my hair air dry and find my dad holding on to one of the framed letters that my mom wrote to me. “You know, this was my favorite one.”
“Yeah?” I ask, taking a sip of the coffee he has set out for me.
“Yeah. When I read it, I can hear her voice clear as day.”
“Me too. Hey, sorry about this morning,” I tell him, knowing a good distraction technique works to reel him back in from the pain of being without her.
“It’s all right. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Always, Dad.”
“I saw your collection of shooters, should I be worried?”
I laugh out loud and look at the bag King bought me. “No, nothing to be worried about. A friend bought it for me being funny.”
“Was it that girl from work?”
“No, that guy who bought the building next door.”
“I thought you didn’t like him?”
“I don’t, but it’s a long story.” He can sense I’m holding back, so I fill him in on almost everything.
“He doesn’t sound bad to me.”
“Dad, he’s nuts. He bought this building and . . .”
“And he saved you from moving. He also spent what did you say…thirty thousand dollars on three other bikes?” I nod. “Ever, you’ve gotta give him a chance. Now you don’t have to move, you can unpack all of your stuff.”
Looking for anything wrong with him I tell my dad, “Well, don’t forget he got me kicked out of work on my birthday.”
“No, Ever, you lost your temper with him and got yourself in trouble.”
“Why are you sticking up for him, Dad?”
“Let’s just say when I met your mother I did some crazy things myself.”
I could never imagine my father doing anything crazy, so to hear him say that comes as a shock. “What did you do, Dad?”
“I went to her house every night and threw tiny little pebbles at her window until she agreed to go out with me.”
“That’s not crazy.”
“And then when she broke up with me, I sat on her porch all night long.”
“Okay, Dad. I get the point.” I put the framed letter on the table where it usually sits, knowing what he is trying to tell me. Maybe what King has been doing hasn’t been that bizarre. Maybe, it’s been me pushing him away that has made everything seem that much worse.
Walking around the antique street market with my dad, he’s like a kid in a candy store. Everything is so interesting to him. As I watch him barter for an old fan, broken and missing pieces, I can’t help but smile. He gives me a grin when he makes the deal, and it’s because those are the ones he loves the most. The really broken pieces that only he can fix.
He walks back over to me and says, “Can you believe I got this for thirty-seven dollars?”
‘That’s great, Dad.” The sun is exhausting and I need to eat. Hangovers are such a bitch. Checking the time on my phone, there are still no messages from King. I still need to text him and I will…later. Sliding my phone into my back pocket, suddenly his scent invades me, followed by his warmth as his body shrouds mine, awakening my senses as he stands behind me and whispers into my ear, “You owe me a text.”
“I’m aware.” I turn around, his body brushing up against mine.
He takes his sunglasses, lifting them up as he tries to read me. “Let me see your eyes.” I smirk and lift my shades. “There you go…getting me hard again,” he says through gritted teeth.
I swallow as my dad calls over his shoulder, “Could you use this, Ever?”
I shake my head and King grins at me, “Do you want to text me now…or later?”
“Later,” I whisper and my dad comes up looking at the close interaction between the two of us.
“Dad,” I exclaim, “This is my friend, King, I was telling you about this morning.”
They shake hands and King looks at someone waving a cuckoo clock in the air. “Could you guys excuse me? My aunt needs me real quick.”
“Sure.” He walks off and I watch my dad, observing where he is going. “I’ll be back too,” my dad says and leaves me standing all alone. Well…I might as well join.
“It’s broken,” my dad declares, standing between King and his aunt.
“No, it’s not,” the vendor mumbles.
My dad adamantly says, “Show me that it chirps on anything other than one o’clock.”
“If you don’t want it, don’t buy it.”
“Do you want it?” my dad asks King’s aunt.
“Not if it’s broken like you say.”
“I can fix it for you, if you like it.”
“Then, I want it.” They argue with the vendor again and I wander off, spotting an antique skillet out of the corner of my eye.
“How much?” I ask the lady, holding the heavy cast iron pan in my grip. There’s something about old cookware that I love. It paints such a beautiful story. If only it could talk about all of the meals it’s made and the people it’s served.
“Six hundred dollars,” the woman says and politely I set it down.
“We’ll take it,” King announces and counts six hundreds out of a stack of cash.
“No way,” I shout.
“Don’t start with me,” he says and reaches over my head handing the woman the money as she wraps the pan in tissue paper and then bags it. “Have a good day,” he says taking it from her and handing it to me.
“You can’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“You can’t control me with your money, buying me all these things whenever you see fit.”
He looks around for his aunt and my dad who are engrossed in the finds of another tent, and then he drags me behind a SUV, pressing me hard against the hot exterior of the car. I stand frozen, not sure what to do as he pushes himself against me and says, “Don’t you see who’s controlling who here? It’s you…you’ve got the fuckin’ power over me.” His voice is laced with passion. His cock throbs against my clit as he touches my lips again with his soft fingers. Our foreheads are resting against each other’s and I want him to kiss me, to do something…anything. But he doesn’t make any other moves except for closing his eyes. I realize then that I am holding on to his sides, and I gently trail my fingers over his muscled skin.
“Mmm,” he growls like an animal, ready to be unleashed from its cage.
“There you two are,” my dad exclaims and we quickly separate. My face beet red, but my dad doesn’t seem to care. “We were gonna grab a bite to eat, do you guys wanna join us?”
“Yeah,” I answer, knowing I need to eat and to be around other people than alone with King. But who’s “we”? King’s aunt? They seem to have made an instant connection.
I don’t make it a few steps and King pulls me backwards.
“Stop it, my dad already caught us and I haven’t even met your aunt yet.”
“No, you stop it. Don’t you see what you’re doing to me?” He looks down and my eyes follow to his very apparent strained dick. I squeeze my thighs, trying to restrain myself from touching him as I swallow.
“Goddammit, Ever, would you try and stop being so fucking sexy?”
“What am I doing?”
“Clenching your thighs and swallowing.” He’s breathing hard, obviously struggling, and I cannot believe the power I have over him. Is this how it’s been all along? Is this why he’s been so aggressive?
“Well, you’re going to have to man up.” I grab his hand and walk in the direction that my dad went. He follows along, still holding the paper bag that has my skillet in it and my hand.
“My fuckin’ balls feel like they’re going to explode,” he says through clenched teeth as I search for our family members.
“Then think about work or something.”
“Sure, that’ll help, because currently I work right next door to you.”
I spot my dad and his aunt. Waving to them, I let go of his hand and make my way through the crowd. I can sense that King is close behind me, and in the mix of all the people, he takes my hand back in his. I look over my shoulder at him, so tall and sexy, mixed in a crowd of people, with his eyes only on me.
Glancing down, I see his cock is no longer hard and I smile.
“Don’t,” he grumbles and I tell him, “You sure say that a lot.”
“This is her?” King’s aunt asks as King and I stop in front of them.
“Yes, Aunt Galinda, this is Ever.”
“It’s great to meet you.” I shake her hand with my free one.
“Same to you.”
“Gerry was telling me about this little café around the block, if you guys feel like trying it.”
I know exactly where she is talking about and I’m sure King will hate it. So, I figure he can slum it with us normal folk and enjoy watching my dad and I eat their ninety-nine cent breakfast which they serve all day. I can tell right away that Galinda won’t mind, she’s very old school, nothing like King at all.
“I think King would love it there.”
“Really?” he asks.
“Oh yeah, it’s in such a cool building.”
As we walk, his hand is still wound around mine and it feels so natural. Yeah, he might be this rich, cocky…no, arrogant, guy. But deep down, beneath the façade, there is much more to him. Like, him spending a Saturday with his Aunt, he seemingly only wants to make her happy. Beneath it all, I think he really has a good side, that slowly I am discovering each time we are together, finding out more and more about who the real King is.
“Are you kidding me?”
“What?” I ask innocently as we walk into the old-school diner. It’s totally more of a dive than anything and certainly not a café. It needs a total renovation.
&n
bsp; “Why would you think I’d like it here?”
“Come on, give the food a chance.”
A waitress walks by us as we wait at the door to be seated with a huge tray of the greasy mess they serve, and King leans down whispering in my ear. “You’re so gonna pay for this later.”
“What? You gonna spank me?” I tease him, pulling my sunglasses up on the top of my hair
“No.” He brushes the hair off my neck and whispers into my ear, “I’m gonna skull fuck you.”
My eyes get wide and a hostess shows us to our table, but I can barely function as I imagine what that means.
Who would say something like that?
I haven’t even kissed him yet. As we all get situated, Galinda says, “Isn’t this place so cute, King?”
“Totally!” he sarcastically replies and opens his menu as I sit, still stunned. The image of myself on my knees with his cock buried in my throat burns in my brain, and I swallow hard, clenching my thighs. He reaches down with one hand and pries my legs apart. God, he’s so intuitive to every – single – little – thing that I do.
I’m so fucked.
Chapter 12
Leaving lunch with my dad, King gives me a very tight hug and for the first time kisses me on the cheek. My heart races, his mouth so warm and then that smirk as he touches his bottom lip with his thumb, his tattooed hand so hot. He locks eyes with me as he backs up, before he turns away with his aunt and walks off.
“I think he’s a nice guy,” my dad says out of the blue and I’m not even sure where that came from.
“He’s got a lot of layers to him, Dad, and you haven’t seen them all yet.”
“What’s that mean?” he asks.
“He’s different, he sort of feels controlling.”
“In a bad way?” my dad asks, alarmed by the word as any father should be.
“I don’t know yet. I really know as much about him as you do.”