Indebted To A King

by Lisa Lang Blakeney

  "That's exactly why I am back here." Gidget grins and turns to point directly at me. "He's here to see you, Sloan."

  "Me?" I respond incredulously.

  "Yep, he specifically asked for you, and I just need to say this. If you're not seeing this guy romantically, then please tell him that I'm ready and available to have his babies. His big, strong, Viking babies. Tell him I'll be sure to raise them in the ways of his Viking gods."

  I can't help but laugh out loud this time.

  Gidget is certifiable.

  "Well now I have to take a look," Regan says. Which is not surprising. Now that she knows that the mystery man has asked specifically for me, all of a sudden, she needs to know who he is and what he looks like. As if it's a problem that a hot looking guy is asking for me instead of her. That's why I take great pleasure in the look on her face when she returns from the lobby.

  A look of a woman who just swallowed crow.

  "He's definitely here for you," she says dismissively.

  "And what's that supposed to mean?" I say. "Who does he work for?" I ask standing up and meticulously freshening up my red lip gloss in the reflection of my computer. It's the only bit of makeup I can actually apply considering that I have a large, ugly, gauze pad on one side of my face and a bluish eye.

  "I don't think by the looks of him that he works for anyone the three of us know," Regan says as she walks away. "He's definitely not in pharmaceuticals. Not legal ones anyway."

  I can't imagine the kind of person matching Regan's description who'd be here to see me. But as I get closer to the lobby, I smell my guest before I see him and realization sets in.

  I know him.

  My visitor is wearing a distinct woodsy, but clean musk and leather scent that smells expensive and unique only to him. And once I make my way around the corner of the hallway into the lobby, and verify who it is, I almost choke on my own saliva.

  He's massive, muscular, and standing against the wall in all black, stubble covering his strong jaw, his midnight kissed hair shorn low, with his tatted forearms crossed in front of him. It's only been a few days since I last saw him, but he's grown hotter if that's even possible. Even I have to admit, that if I didn't already know him, I'd climb him like a pole right in this entryway.

  But I do know him.

  And there's something about Cutter King that reminds me of every bad relationship I've been in and every bad decision I've ever made.

  He's desperately good looking, but he knows it.

  He's built sturdy and strong like a tank, but he's reckless.

  He looks like every woman's fantasy, but for me he's a nightmare.

  In the real world Cutter King is dangerous, arrogant, and entirely too smug. All excellent reasons why I'm not remotely interested in exploring anything physical with him; not to mention the fact that he alludes to getting inside of my panties almost every time I'm within six feet of him.

  Pervert.

  "Is everything okay with Elizabeth?" Is my passive aggressive way of asking him what the heck he's doing at my place of business unannounced and uninvited.

  "The baby's still in her belly as far as I know."

  "So then why are you standing in the middle of my lobby?"

  We now have an audience. At this point I should shove a bucket of buttered popcorn in Gidget's lap and a bag of Twizzlers in Regan's, because all four of their eyes are fixed on the two of us. Moving back and forth between us like a game of ping-pong.

  "I came by to check in on you, like I said I would, but guess who wasn't home in bed like a good girl?”

  "What are you talking about?" I ask defiantly.

  Cutter gives me a stern stare.

  "You know what I'm talking about. You're here at work when I specifically told you to take a few days off. Good thing for you I knew where to find you."

  Gidget giggles under her breath, and I'm quickly reminded that people are listening. People who are probably interpreting this conversation in the completely wrong way.

  "Can you go into my office for a moment, Mr. King? Third door on the left. I'll be there in a moment."

  "Of course, Miss Pearson," he says as he shamelessly winks at both Gidget and Regan before walking toward my office. "I'll be waiting patiently.”

  Fourteen

  Sloan

  I stand with my back flat against the wall a few feet down from my office door. I need a moment to collect myself. My one good cheek is flushed. My panties damp. Apparently, all Cutter needs to do is make a pop-up appearance in my life and my hormones go into overdrive. I become combative, flustered, and freaking horny which is a dangerous and potent brew. Of course the reason I feel this way could totally be because I haven't gotten laid in a really long time. In fact, I'm sure that's what's going on. So that's an easy fix.

  I need to make myself a good old-fashioned dick appointment.

  I take a few steps farther down the hallway toward the west elevator and start scrolling through the contact list on my cell phone, looking for an oldie but goodie. Someone that I can have a no strings attached night of carnal pleasure with, somebody that I'm still on good terms with, and a guy that will make me forget all about how ridiculously attracted I am to the man sitting in my office.

  Crap, that's a tall order.

  I text Elizabeth instead.

  Me: Talk me off the ledge.

  Elizabeth: Well good morning to you too.

  Me: I'm about to jump.

  Elizabeth: What are you talking about?

  Me: Wait a minute, I'm going to call you instead.

  "Hello?"

  "I need to get laid."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Some dick. The pipe. A little cock."

  "I'm sorry but I only have a vagina."

  "And he's here."

  "Who's where? What are you talking about? You sound like you've had five espresso shots too many."

  "I'm literally hiding out in the hallway at work, because Cutter King is sitting in my office taking up the entire room with his . . . freakin' dominant Viking energy."

  "Holy crap, he's popping up everywhere," she says. Her voice still husky with sleep. "And you like him."

  "No, I don't like him and wake up. What CEO in America sleeps past ten a.m."

  “A pregnant one. And yes you do like him. I haven't seen you act this flustered over a guy since Brandon Miller in Greek Mythology sophomore year."

  I can hear Roman's muffled voice saying something snarky in the background. Figures he's listening. It's guaranteed that every time I talk to Elizabeth, her fiancé is somewhere in the vicinity. Lurking. Just like freakin' Batman.

  "What is the dark knight saying? Doesn't he ever work?"

  "Nothing just–"

  There's some rustling in the background as if they're scuffling for the phone, and then all of a sudden, I can't hear Elizabeth. The phone's been muted. Then after that, I hear her voice fussing in the background and Roman's voice on the line.

  "Did you tell Cutter the douchebag's name?" he practically snarls through the phone.

  "Good morning to you too, sunshine."

  "I'm handling it. Don't tell Cutter shit."

  I feel a small twinge of disappointment. Cutter's not here to actually see me. He wants to find Dawn's boyfriend and probably finish what he started.

  "Listen, Roman, I appreciate the fact that you all want to protect me. I seriously do. But I had unofficial bodyguards protecting me when I was a kid and their "preventative measures" to keep me safe never ended well. I don't want any of your good intentions to ultimately create more bad blood between me and my sister. So for me that means dropping this whole thing and leaving her boyfriend alone."

  "Not a good choice."

  "It may not be, but it's my choice."

  "Then don't bother the mother of my baby with any shit in regard to him. If he bothers you from this point on, then you go somewhere else for a listening ear or a helping hand. She doesn't need that stress."

  "Did you listen to
anything that I just said. Why do you have to be so nasty?"

  "I'm just looking out for my family. You should understand that."

  I'm trying very hard to find something likable about Bitsy's man, but as usual he makes it extremely difficult.

  "I would never do anything to jeopardize my best friend's pregnancy, and I certainly don't need you to tell me that."

  "Then I guess we're good."

  After the dark knight hands Elizabeth back the phone, she attempts getting off of the phone as quickly as she can, and now I feel like dog crap. She hates when the two of us disagree.

  "Hey, I'm wiped. Can I call you back later? I didn't get any sleep last night, because the baby decided to do somersaults until two a.m. I'll call you once I've totally woken up."

  "Bitsy, I'm–"

  "Listen to me, Sloan." She sighs with exasperation. "There's a big, sweet, man in your office who stopped by because he gives a damn. End of story. So pull up your big girl panties, go back in there, and talk to him. This anxiety ridden side of you is not attractive."

  Click

  "What . . . Helllllo?"

  Gah! She hung up on me.

  Pregnant women are such bitches.

  I go back to my office, and Cutter is exactly where I left him. Sitting at my desk playing Tetris on his phone. I stand at the doorway and take a moment to observe him for a moment.

  The confident way his strong, large body lounges at my desk. The broad width and careful slope of his shoulders. Everything about him oozes confidence, and strength, and sex. In fact I'd bet that he probably just had sex an hour before he came here. He reeks of it, and now (thank you very much) I've just pissed myself off.

  I enter the room and slam the door behind me.

  “Well hello again, beautiful." He greets me brightly.

  "What exactly are you doing?" I say with my hands firmly on my hips.

  "Looking at some dangerous curves wrapped up in a pretty blue dress. Turquoise, right? The color suits you."

  "I want you to stop dropping by my house and my job without an invitation. And stop flirting with my coworkers."

  "You call that back there with them flirting or what the two of us are doing right now."

  He stands up and takes a step toward me, which inevitably makes the room feel smaller. Yet I stand my ground.

  "We're not doing anything, and you winked at two women you don't even know while visiting another. Uninvited by the way. So yes, I believe that's called flirting."

  "I didn't know you were the jealous type, princess. Me likey." He flashes one of those ridiculous panty melting grins of his.

  "Listen, caveman King, I have work to do. You know that thing that some of us do during daylight hours. And just FYI, I'd have to actually care in order to be jealous. But I'll tell you what I actually do care about and that's keeping gainful employment. So I'm going to need you to leave now."

  "Not until we talk."

  "About what?"

  "Have you heard from your sister?"

  "Once," I lie.

  Actually I haven't heard a thing from Dawn, although admittedly I haven't reached out to her either. I've been pretty angry with her over the last few days, and I've been depending on the fact that if she was really in any sort of trouble, Marsha would have called me about it already. But I'm the older sister, and should be the bigger person, so I plan on checking on her soon.

  "Did you know she hasn't been on any social media in a while?"

  "No I didn't, and should I even bother asking how it is you know that?"

  "That's strange for a teenager don't you think?"

  I guess it is.

  "Did she say anything about the boyfriend when you talked to her?”

  Now I feel like a really bad sister.

  "I don't want to talk about this right now."

  "Why?"

  "Again, genius–" I wave around my hands in the air. "Because I'm at work."

  "So when do want to talk about it? Remember, I owe you dinner."

  "I don't want to talk about it at all, especially with you. I got into a disagreement with my kid sister's boyfriend. So what? Shit happens. And while I appreciate the help that you gave me that night, I need you to let this go, Cutter. Please. It's my business. Not yours. Not Roman's."

  Cutter walks behind me, purposefully sits back down at my desk, spreads his massive legs, and leans completely back in my chair. Making a show of it. Making it clear that he's not going anywhere until he's ready.

  "Who said anything about Roman." He says tight-jawed.

  "He seems to be almost as interested as you in finding the kid, but I wish you two would drop it. You're making a mountain out of a molehill. I just want to forget that it ever happened."

  "I can't drop it. If he's not out of your sister's life, that means he's not out of your life. You needed my help once and you may need it again."

  It's exhausting being attracted to such a relentless pain in the ass.

  "Seriously, Cutter, get out of my chair."

  He ignores my demand and instead squints his eyes carefully at me, examining every inch of my face, like he's looking specifically for something.

  "You're not sleeping."

  "What–"

  "Your eyes. They usually light up like Christmas morning, but today they're dull and dark. My guess is that you haven't been getting any sleep, because you're stressing about this. Probably stressing about other shit too. That's why I'm here. I'm going to fix all of that. Want to see that light back."

  How unfortunate that his assessment of me is spot on. I haven't had a good night's rest in days, yet I'm marveled by the sweet sentiment behind his words. It's almost as if he actually cares, but obviously he doesn't. He's just really good at knowing what to say to women.

  "Aren't you supposed to be some sort of ladies' man?"

  He shrugs his shoulders unrepentantly. "That's what they tell me."

  "Well here's a tip. What you just said about me looking like crap is not the best thing to say to a woman."

  "I didn't say you looked like crap. I said stressed."

  "Still not good."

  "I don't lie, princess. If you look stressed, then I'll tell you that you do. Not to be a dick, but to let you know that someone notices. Someone gives a shit. But how about this, the rest of you looks fucking phenomenal. In fact I bet I could help you relax a little right now, if you let me slip my hand inside the slit of that dress and–"

  "Quiet." I silence him while inadvertently squeezing my thighs together. The lower half of me clenching at just the thought of his hand coming anywhere close to between my legs. "Stop talking to me like I'm one of your minions at the club."

  "Minions?" He chuckles at the word. "Explain."

  "You know who I'm talking about. The girls who wait for you and follow you around Lotus like female dogs in heat."

  "That's a very specific description." He laughs. "I didn't think you noticed me at all at Lotus. You never say hello."

  "You and your minions are a little hard to miss."

  "So you think I'm talking to you the way I talk to them?"

  "Exactly."

  "And how is that?"

  "Inappropriately. Indecently. Arrogantly. Presumptuously. Egotistically. Shall I go on?"

  "Maybe they like how I talk to them."

  "Maybe they do, and that's fine for them, but not for me. You want us to be friends? You said I'm practically like family now that Elizabeth and Roman are getting married. Then treat me like a friend. Treat me like family. Not like some sort of sexual challenge to be surmounted."

  I chastise him with the most sanctimonious speech I can come up with off the top of my head, but at the same time can't help but be transfixed as Cutter sexily licks the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue.

  Dammit, he has the most interesting mouth. There's a small dent that leads from his nose to his top lip. A scar that the eye can't help but be drawn to. A mark that adds to his sexy. I want to kiss it.

&n
bsp; "So basically, you're saying that you want me to keep it strictly business."

  "Now you're catching on, your highness."

  "Then give me the name of the kid, and I'll be on my merry fucking way."

  "That's not happening."

  He leans even farther back in the chair with an insufferable smirk across his face.

  “Then I guess I'll just have to sit and wait until you change your mind.”

  I plunk down in my new ergonomic chair opposite Cutter. A small perk of my new office and position with the company. We both watch each other very carefully. Much like two stealth-like cats sizing each other up. I slide myself closer to the desk, place my palms flat on the desk, and look him square in his hypnotic whiskey colored irises.

  "What is your fucking deal?"

  His smile grows wider as Gidget knocks lightly on the door then pokes her head in to interrupt us. "Umm, excuse me."

  "Yes, Gidget!" I inadvertently bark at her.

  "Sorry, Sloan. I just wanted to know if your guest here needs anything. Coffee? A bottled water?"

  A blow job perhaps?

  I just shake my head as Gidget shamelessly gawks at Cutter. He must have the biggest ego on the planet the way women drool and lose all of their common sense when he's around. The way she's acting she's headed to minion land herself.

  "Uh, he's leaving in a minute, so he won't be needing anything."

  "He can speak for himself," Cutter says while flashing Gidget all of his pearly whites. "Water please, darlin'."

  I swear some sort of unidentifiable sound comes out of Gidget's body that resembles a cross between a squeal, a snort, and a chortle. I laugh to myself as I hang my head in shame for my entire gender.

  "Sure thing," she manages to eek out.

  "Close the door please, Gidget," I plead. Then I whip my head back around toward him. "Stop it."

  "Aww, why don't you admit that you're a little bit jealous? The only way this thing between us is going to work is if we're both brutally honest with each other."

  "Oh my God." I have to laugh to keep from screaming. "There is no thing."

  His eyes rake down my body.