The Making Of A King: The King Duet, Book 1

by N. M. Catalano

  Stevenson had much more exciting things in mind.

  Some of his business associates were coming in from out of the country, Germany, Amsterdam, Russia, India, you get the idea. He wanted girls, and guys, and a sex show. But no drugs. The fact that fucker ran a chemical company hadn’t even entered my mind. He had anything he wanted available to him, he didn’t need my street connections for that. I got him what he asked for, it took some doing, and he’d offered me five thousand dollars, the entertainment fee was included in the amount, and there was no way in hell I was going to lose that kind of cash. I paid out two grand to the entertainment, and I pocketed three.

  His party was a huge success. The only people that knew about it were the ones inside his mansion. And the cops, to a certain extent. Randall didn’t get to where he’s at by not being cautious. He’d filmed the entire thing, unbeknownst to the participants. I’d coordinated that aspect as well. He said it was merely for his private use when he was bored. I figured out it was collateral, just in case it was necessary at some point in time later on.

  Smart son of a bitch.

  Caroline was one of the girls that night. She wasn’t innocent by any means, but she didn’t turn tricks for a living. She gave her shit away for free, so she was hard up for money. She signed up. Randall claimed her as soon as she walked in the door. The shit he made her do at the party made her his sole possession and sealed her fate. He has her on a leash, gives her enough slack to allow her some independence, but there’s no doubt he’s got complete control. I bet he knows about our little arrangement, however, nothing’s ever been mentioned. I still do jobs for him, parties included, and we go on business as usual. There’s even something big in the making.

  However, I know no one crosses Randall Stevenson.

  I push one leg into my shorts, then the other, before checking the time again and grabbing my keys, phone, and shirt. Storm should be here any minute.

  Dick move asking her to come here? Especially after I practically pissed all over her, marking her as mine, announcing it loud and clear by sending her over to Preston’s house knowing he was there? Yeah, it is. Too fucking bad.

  I’m doing the girl a favor, actually, saving her from getting used by Preston, then inevitably thrown aside. The guy shoves his meat into anything that walks. Sweet little Storm doesn’t need that kind of aggravation in her life. The fact he looks at her likes she’s his next meal, and the way she talks to him, like she doesn’t want to stab him in the eye (the way she looks at me), has nothing to do with it.

  Her coming here, though, that’s different shit all together.

  Caroline’s throwing on a sundress, completely naked underneath it, when we both hear the doorbell through the closed door.

  “That’s for me,” I tell her as I shove my bare feet into my Tommy Bahama loafers and head for the door. The twisted satisfaction curling my lip is a sign of my fucked-upness.

  “Who is it?” she asks trailing behind me as I head down the massive marble staircase.

  “Just someone who works for me,” I grunt, the sound of her voice is grating on my nerves suddenly. Too bad I can’t shove my dick in her mouth at the door to stop it, but that would be messed up, even for me.

  “I didn’t know you hired someone. Who is it?”

  “Some girl you don’t know.”

  She grabs my arm halfway down the stairs and stops me. “You hired some girl, and you invited her here?”

  I give her a condescending sneer, because this is fucking comical coming from her, especially after she banged an eighteen-year-old in her sixty-year-old husbands bed. “You didn’t know because it’s none of your business. And in case you weren’t aware, everything I do is none of your business.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Everything about you is my business.” Her tone drips self-righteousness, and her grin screams entitlement.

  Hold. The fuck. Up!

  “Caroline,” I give her a grin like she’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me since I discovered my dick. “I hope today was as good for you as it sucked for me, because it was the last time I’ll ever touch you.”

  Because nobody tells me what to do, where to go, and especially who I do it with. Not even Randall Stevenson’s whore.

  Caroline’s face goes pale as rage twists her lips. “You’ve just made a huge mistake, Lucas.”

  “I wouldn’t disagree,” I growl as I head to the door and yank it open, the ugly ass one Caroline had imported from Italy.

  I can tell Evelyn is nervous the moment I open it and our eyes lock. When it registers I’m practically naked standing in front of her, her face turns that flaming shade of red I’ve grown to enjoy. She can’t stop her gaze from traveling down my bare torso to the point where my pants are wide open, the base of my shaft and my patch of hair on full display, telling her exactly what we’ve been doing. And fuck me, it felt better than everything Caroline and I have just done. Storm’s mouth is slightly open, and flashes of her lips wrapped around me, exactly how Caroline was not moments ago, sends a surge of blood to my now hardening dick. When her expression flips from stunned to irate, it slams me back to reality.

  Too fucking bad for her.

  “How was the drop, Storm?” I smirk at her.

  She gives me the once over one more time before her eyes land on mine, that familiar tempest raging behind her glasses. “Apparently not as good yours,” her tone drips loathing.

  I wouldn’t be so sure of that.

  “I’m Caroline, and you are?” my no longer fuck buddy peeks her head from behind me as she sticks her hand out, the one still covered in my dried cum. I don’t miss the snideness in her tone behind the fake politeness.

  Storm’s eyes bounce from me to Caroline, big and round, then back again, taking in our obvious indiscretion. The girl is good, I’ve got to give her that, because her hatred for me is perfectly schooled and in check as she shakes Caroline’s hand. “Pleasure, I’m sure.” Clever little thing. “I’m Evelyn Monroe.”

  “You’re working for Lucas? That’s so nice. He treats his girls good,” Caroline digs.

  My teeth almost shatter from how hard I slammed them together.

  Caroline is a first class bitch, jealousy and spitefulness in every single one of her words. But I asked for it.

  Storm drags her eyes to my face, seething with every single way she wants to dismember me. Starting with my dick.

  “I’m sure,” this time her words bleed murder. Mine. “It looks like you’ve got everything you need right here, Lucas.” Drip, drip, drip, that’s the sound of my blood dripping from my name. “If that will be all, I’ve got things to do.” She cocks an eyebrow at me as she tilts her head to the side, her hands planted firmly on her hips, daring me to give her shit so she could rip me a new asshole.

  “I’ll walk you,” the words shoot from my mouth. What in the actual fuck? I can’t take it back now, and honestly, I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here, so I yank my shirt over my head and close my pants as I follow the hurricane moving at full speed down the grand front portico steps.

  “No need,” she waves me off as she rushes away. “I know my way out.”

  Even if she didn’t, I’d bet she’d gladly take an hour being lost over having to spend another minute here. With me, and my douche move making her come here clearly after I’d banged someone, still freshly fucked.

  “Bye,” Caroline singsongs from the doorway, the cunt that she is.

  I swear I hear Evelyn mutter one of those colorful expletives she’s so fond of. I can’t say that I blame her, the sound of Caroline’s voice is grating on my last nerve as well, I actually cannot wait to wash her from my skin.

  That’s a fucking first too.

  Storm’s in her car when I reach her, ready to pull the door shut. On my face. I grab the top to stop her, making a tsking sound. “Rule number three. Never let them see your weakness.”

  With her hand still clutching the door handle, her gaze slides to my face. “
Don’t flatter yourself, Lucas. I hate to burst your bubble, but you are not that important. Now would you please move so I can leave. This place stinks,” she scrunches her nose with her eyes now fixed on my groin.

  With my body between the door and her, I grin down at her. That smell she’s referring to, it’s sex, and it’s practically all up in her face. “Rule number four: never shit where you eat. Be nice, little hurricane, that smell is paying your way to whatever it is you fucking need.” And I’m not talking about the scent of Caroline’s dried pussy juices still on my cock.

  Her eyes meet mine as she turns the key in the ignition. “Really? I didn’t peg you for a prostitute. But hey, who am I to judge?”

  I learned a long time ago to let things roll off my back. I had to, or I’d have been buried deep in darkness and isolation because everyone I was supposed to trust either abandoned me or tried to destroy me. I took that power back, refusing to allow anyone the ability to do that to me ever again. Not trusting another human being does something to a person. It blackens their soul, and rips out their hearts, effectively destroying anything that might resemble being a human. The only thing left is a cold and empty shell.

  But for some reason, that pissed me off.

  I bend down and lower my face close to hers, so close I can feel her breath, and it pokes at something I thought was long dead and buried inside me. “Apparently you weren’t listening. Never shit where you eat. If this were a job, do you think I’d be wasting my time with you?” I shake my head slowly. The different emotions flashing across her innocent face is a movie I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of. Should I feel bad for being so hateful to her? Probably. Do I? No. Does that make me a bad person? No. Because I’ve always been bad. It only solidifies it and expands the boundaries of how shitty I’ll go. “No one buys me, Storm. No one. Remember that, because if that happens, then they own you. That’s when you’re fucked.”

  Her eyes search my face; I don’t even know if she realizes she’s doing it. Searching, seeking, prodding, looking for something. Honesty? Decency? Something that might tell her I’m not a complete asshole. She won’t find any of those things, because they don’t exist within me.

  When she finally looks into my eyes again, her voice is so low, if we weren’t this close, I’m not sure I’d hear her. “What am I doing here, Lucas? What do you want with me?”

  Everything. Every goddamn thing.

  That poke in my chest from before? It’s a full on vice grip.

  “Don’t you know?” I reply just as quietly, it’s almost…tender.

  Her gaze drops to my lips. Because that’s exactly what I’d sound like if I was going to kiss her. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to, because I do. I’m sure I will. Destruction requires many tactics, and I want to use all of them on her.

  She gives me the slightest shake to her head, it’s barely visible.

  “I bought you, Storm. You belong to me.” I grin at her, not moving, not breathing, only waiting. You’re fucked.

  Her reaction is slow. I can practically feel the rise of her fury boiling up inside her, hot and thick and consuming. I want to touch it, caress it, taste it. Devour it. I will, when I’m finished with her.

  She laughs. Laughs. What the fuck?

  “You know what I think?” she asks sounding completely calm.

  I bite. I fucking bite because I want to know. “What do you think, Storm?”

  This time she tsks me. “I think you’re a psychotic individual who has issues. You’re delusional, Lucas.” She’s half right. “Move. And go take a shower. This is bad,” she glares at me, “even for you.” She places a hand on my chest and shoves me. And I let her.

  I step back, but my hand is still holding her door open. “Doesn’t change the fact.”

  She shakes her head, a sad smirk curving her lips. Lips I want to bite. “Move your hand if you want to keep your fingers, or don’t you use them?”

  It’s my turn to laugh. I fucking laugh because this is so typical of her. “All the time sweetheart.” I don’t want to, but I let go of my hold on the door, knowing she’s going to leave. And, fuck me, I don’t want her to.

  She slams the door shut. I don’t move. I stand there and watch her, because this doesn’t feel finished. Not by a long shot. She glances at me through the glass. “Me too,” then she flips me off as she puts the car in gear and drives away.

  I didn’t realize a person can feel two different conflicting emotions at the same time, but I do. Right fucking now as I watch her leave in that piece of shit car of hers. It’s confusing, and feels about as wanted as an enema by a rhino. My eyes are glued on her, I can’t tear them away, even after she’s long gone.

  CHAPTER 6

  I hate him.

  How could he do that to me? How could anyone be so cruel and vile and heartless?

  Lucas King.

  Not only did he send me to Preston Hollowell’s house, to do his dirty work no less, but he did it so he could screw some rich woman. Then he made me meet him right afterwards. He’d looked like I’d interrupted them because he was practically naked when he answered the door, for Christ’s sake. I saw his penis, and that arrow of fine hair that led to the patch inside his pants. The only way it would have been more obvious is if he’d had it whipped out and hung it over his pants.

  He did that on purpose, the bastard!

  I’d thought it strange that the first place Lucas would send me was to the home of the same guy he’d been with when I’d had the misfortune of becoming acquainted with him. Standing in front of Preston on his front porch, there because Lucas had sent me, I’d felt…embarrassed. And ashamed. I didn’t want to be there because I was hired by Lucas. I’d wanted to be there with Lucas because he wanted me there with him. It was ridiculous. It was stupid. It was completely irrational.

  It was Lucas proving a point that he did own me in some way. As long as I was employed by him, I would do whatever he asked of me. If I were completely honest, I don’t think I could say no to him even if I wasn’t. It was a sad fact I knew deep down inside.

  I’d wanted to cry, and I almost did, I would have if I hadn’t run away. There’s nothing else I could call it. I ran, and I did it as fast as I could without actually running. I’d wanted to get out of there before I did see the two of them in the act. When she – Caroline – peeked from behind an almost naked Lucas, my heart shattered like it was made of ice, then fell with a tinkling crash around my feet, melting into a puddle like it was weeping. Seeing her cemented the visuals of them together in my mind that I couldn’t stop from going round and round in my head. My mind screamed at me to get out of there before he tore her clothes off and had sex with her in front of me just to hurt me more. I knew he hated me, but there was no way I could know it was to depths such as that. The final blow was how he reeked of her, and him, and sex. I don’t know anything about sex, I’ve only been to first base, but the aroma tugged at something primal inside of me, it elicited a reaction that I couldn’t name or describe. It seemed my body and mind knew it in some instinctual way, man’s oldest and strongest aphrodisiac. I was repulsed and fascinated at the same time. And hurt. God, I was so hurt, I swore I was bleeding from every pore of my body.

  He’d planned the entire day with his only intention to be malicious. He’d set out to hurt and humiliate me, and he succeeded. Monumentally.

  Why?! That was the question I couldn’t figure out an answer to. I’ve done nothing to him. Except for the coffee debacle. He couldn’t be that vain that getting a little coffee spilled on his lap would cause a third world war? But then I’d found out it was him who threatened a man in the alley that night. That couldn’t warrant such horrid behavior toward me. Could it? And I’d hardly heard any of their conversation, I was mostly surprised when I walked out of work and into their heated discussion, I didn’t hear much of anything at all. Except for the part that he would kill him. He couldn’t have meant that. Could he?

  It hurt. It hurt really bad. Jealousy s
eeped into my veins and dug her poisonous talons into my flesh. It filled my heart and consumed my mind. It made me feel sick and pathetic. And so miserable. Logically, I know I had no reason to have the feelings I do about Lucas. I hated him, and he hated me. He treats me horribly, and yet I long for him. There has to be something wrong with me, because in my mind it was me with him, not her. I was the one he’d been touching, it was my mouth his tongue was exploring, it was my body his hands had been stroking. I ached for him in ways I’d never felt before. Alone in my bed, my hands gripped his phantom body, the parts of his body he’d exposed to me. The lingering scent of sex haunted me in the dark as I imagined the way his skin would feel against mine. I pulsed and trembled in places I didn’t know could feel so strongly. My thighs clenched together, and that only made it worse. Until I touched myself. I couldn’t stop. I’d had my first orgasm to a fantasy of a man after he’d had sex with another woman.

  Shame, the twin sister to my jealousy, pierced my heart and spread through me like venom. I’d wanted to hunt Lucas down and hurt him as badly as he’d hurt me.

  I haven’t seen Lucas since then, thank God. But the time hasn’t lessened the pain, it’s only given me the fortitude to hide it better. Going out with Preston will give me the ammunition to fight back. Hopefully tonight I’ll have the chance to hunt Lucas down and hurt him the way he hurt me.

  You won the first round, Lucas. This one is going to be mine.

  Checking my reflection one more time, I give myself the okay. Dressed in a little denim skirt, an off the shoulder loose top, sandals, and contacts, (don’t need the glasses getting in the way), I know I look good. My hair is piled in a messy bun on top of my head, my neck exposed, because I am going to make out with Preston, (even if he doesn’t want to. Or me, for that matter). I grab a small handbag from the closet, transfer my wallet and cell phone to it, then go downstairs. It’s almost eight o’clock, Preston should be here any minute.