The King Brothers Boxed Set

by Lisa Lang Blakeney

  "How?"

  "It was easy,” he said. “I just cocked blocked."

  "Explain,” I say. Demanding a more detailed answer than that.

  "I simply had a few gentle conversations with whatever man tried to get into your panties. So needless to say, I was having a lot of those conversations. You're a very popular girl, Princess. No surprise there. You're intoxicating."

  "That would actually be kind of sweet if it wasn't so crazy. Were you a bully in high school or something? I can't believe you just go around threatening people for fun."

  "Who said anything about bullying? I told you. I had a few gentle conversations with the dudes. I was doing you a favor. They were all douchebags anyway."

  He starts playing with my nipples. Knowing that's my number one weakness. I take the tiniest gasp of pleasure but try and stay focused on the conversation at hand. He's clearly deflecting.

  "I've never heard or seen you do anything gentle in your life," I say.

  "What did we just do this morning? That was gentle."

  I grab his hands to stop them from playing with me.

  "You fucked me."

  "Uh, uh, uh. I made sweet love to you."

  "There was nothing sweet about it."

  He chuckles. "It was very sweet."

  "It was rough and dirty. It's always rough and dirty."

  "I didn't tie your ass up to this bedpost, so it was sweet by my standards." He attempts to sound a little offended, but I know better. There isn't much that can offend Cutter, especially when it comes to his sexual performance. He's quite confident about his skills in the bedroom.

  "Exactly...your standards are highly questionable. But make no doubt about it, my liege." I kiss him firmly on his mouth and he moans softly. "I love every little dirty moment, but now I've really got to get to work."

  I catch Cutter off guard and leap off of him, practically running out of the room towards the shower. He's the kind of man who has a difficult time taking no for an answer, so sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands. I can't help but laugh when not even three minutes later I hear the bathroom door handle jiggling.

  "Sloan!" I hear him roar.

  Cutter loves to have shower sex, and any other day I do too, but we just don't have the time. I'm beyond late.

  "Open this fucking door!" he commands.

  "Oh did I lock it?" I laugh as I turn on the water.

  "That's not funny, Sloan."

  "I don't have time for any shower games with you. A good fiance would support his woman and not try to sabotage her career."

  "You already cancelled the appointment, so you might as well stay in with me."

  I hear the knob jiggling some more. Harder this time.

  "You better not break that doorknob, Cutter. That's a custom piece I ordered, not some mass market made knob from the neighborhood hardware store. And I didn't cancel my appointment, I just pushed it back."

  The jiggling stops.

  Finally he's given up.

  Good.

  In my text, I rescheduled with Edward and told him that I'd meet him in ninety minutes at my favorite coffee shop, Java The Hut. As long as traffic is good, and the meeting stays on track, I'll still have plenty of time afterwards to pick up a new dress for tonight and get my hair done by party time.

  I'm right in the middle of washing my private parts when I hear a clicking sound. I can't see much due to the fog clouding the glass of the shower door, but I notice the large silhouette entering the bathroom and placing what appears to be some sort of dark colored credit card on the counter.

  "Did you just jimmy the bathroom lock with your American Express Black Card?" I ask incredulously.

  Cutter's heavy barefooted steps continue to silently walk across the tiles of the bathroom floor with purpose. I feel an instant rush of cool air as the shower door whips open, and I stare slack jawed at the man standing on the other side of it in all his naked glory.

  I know I get to see him everyday, but the magnificence of Cutter's nude body is something to behold. It takes my breath away each and every time I look at him. Not an ounce of fat on him. Shoulders so strong and sculpted that it's no wonder how they've effortlessly lifted me into all sorts of small places and strange positions. A perfect six pack that trails into a well cut V which points to my favorite piece of his anatomy. Yeah, there's no doubt about it. I'm a lucky girl.

  "Can I help you?" I ask sarcastically as my body reacts to him like the double-crosser it is. My nipples turn as hard as the diamond on my finger.

  Cutter licks the corner of his mouth while staring directly at my breasts, then down at the washcloth in my hand (especially where it's positioned), then looks back at me with the huge grin that I've grown to love.

  "You won't be needing this, Princess." He drops to his knees and snatches the washcloth out of my hand. Tossing it against the tiled wall. Then closing the shower door behind him. "I've taken the liberty of pushing your meeting back with Eddie another hour. He won't mind."

  "You're insufferable," I groan as my head falls back in pleasure against the granite tiles.

  "Yes I am," he says smugly. "And you're welcome."

  SLOAN

  Sloan

  My mother was a rare beauty in her heyday. Actually she still is. Long legs, stunning eyes, natural blonde waves, and curves in all the right places. My father was a highly skilled professional athlete with a rock hard body, beautiful coffee brown skin, and a smile that notoriously broke hearts.

  So I've grown up always being told just how genetically blessed I am, because I supposedly received the best of the two of them. I've also been really careful not to believe any of that except for today.

  Today I believe every word.

  Today, for a moment, I feel like an actual American princess.

  And it only took a very pregnant Elizabeth to practically threaten me with bodily harm to get me here.

  "That dress looks amazeballs on you, Sloan. You look like a Grecian Goddess. That's the one. That's the dress you should walk down the aisle in!" she exclaims as she rubs her swollen pregnant stomach like it's a crystal ball.

  I'm standing on an elevated platform in front of a set of mirrors, doing a pirouette in a wedding dress made of a gauze-like Italian silk. The fourth dress Elizabeth has bullied me into trying on over the last thirty minutes.

  I'm not supposed to be here today. In fact I'm supposed to be shopping for a completely different dress. Preferable a short, eggplant-colored one for the "surprise party" that Elizabeth is throwing Cutter and me tonight– but of course I'm not supposed to know anything about that.

  "It is kind of pretty isn't it," I say quietly.

  "It's not just pretty. It's stunning. I mean you'd look good in a paper bag, but this is different. It looks even better on you because of how you feel in it. I can tell that you love yourself in it."

  I spin around once more for good measure. I really do like the dress, but I'm nervous about committing to it for a lot of reasons I can't explain or understand.

  "It's pretty but I'm not going to buy the first dress I try on."

  "This isn't the first one you tried on."

  "No, but this is the first bridal shop I've been to."

  "Have you two set a date yet?"

  "No, Bitsy. Sheesh. I just got engaged."

  "I thought Cutter didn't want to wait."

  "This isn't Cutter's decision."

  "Uh-huh." Elizabeth sounds unconvinced. "So you don't want the dress."

  "I have to shop around. Maybe we could even see a few in Paris after the baby is born."

  Elizabeth's eyes enlarge.

  "Wedding dress shopping in Paris? After the baby's born?! I didn't realize you were planning on a long engagement."

  "You're so big, you could probably drop that baby right in this dressing room. We actually won't have to wait that long."

  Elizabeth shakes her head as if she's annoyed with me.

  "What? I just don't want to make an
y hasty decisions. This is hopefully a once in a lifetime moment, so I want to pick the perfect dress."

  "That dress is perfection."

  "I'm going to keep looking."

  "Don't tell me you're going to be one of those brides, because I'm way too pregnant to put up with any of your perfection seeking, alpha girl tendencies."

  Elizabeth winces as she shifts her swollen body in the sitting room chair.

  "You better not be having contractions," I fuss.

  I quickly step down off of the platform and prop her swollen ankles up on a spare chair in our private changing room.

  "I'm not having contractions, crazy girl. I'm just uncomfortable."

  "Your feet look like little flotation devices. If this is what pregnancy looks like, I'm not in any rush to have any little Kings."

  "Thanks a lot."

  Sometimes I speak without thinking.

  I've got to work on that.

  "You're beautiful though. There's definitely some truth to the whole pregnancy glow theory."

  She smiles at my effort to clean up my faux pas.

  "That's what Roman says all the time. I don't see it." She shifts in her seat again and smiles. "I can't wait for this little love bug to come out. We're ready to meet him or her."

  Elizabeth is pregnant with her first child and my first godchild. I proudly designed the baby's nursery, and now it's just a matter of time before he or she arrives. She will be the first mother in our small but tight circle of friends. I am genuinely happy for her, but I think she may be forcing this bridal shop visit and the surprise party tonight, because she wants to pack all the things on her checklist in that she can before the baby comes. She has to know that once baby Masterson is born that Roman will put her on lockdown. She probably won't see the light of day until the baby is damn near one year's old if he has it his way.

  "Does the dark knight (my nickname for Roman) know that you're out gallivanting around bridal shops with me today? You probably should be home resting."

  "Putting my feet up at home is the same as placing them up in here. Plus you and I both know that if I didn't get the ball rolling, you wouldn't have ever started dress shopping."

  "There's no rush."

  "What's the wait?"

  "I'm engaged aren't I?"

  "An engagement is a precursor to a wedding for most couples."

  "You're one to talk. Someone in this room seems to be doing things a little out of order and it ain't me."

  "Really, Sloan? You sound so antiquated. Just like my mother and Aunt Juliette."

  "Well they weren't totally off base. You're like a hundred weeks pregnant, living in sin, and not even close to being married either."

  "I'm not going to marry the man of my dreams, while I'm nine months pregnant, just because it will make my mom and dad look like good parents in the eyes of their friends."

  "You could have married Roman when you first found out you were pregnant. It's not like he would have complained."

  "I'm not rushing my wedding for any frackin' body!"

  "Ohhhh, is that right? Now I guess you understand what I'm saying. There's no freaking rush."

  "Ugh, you're so annoying. Stop trying to get me all riled up to prove some sort of ridiculous point. You're upsetting my baby."

  "No, you're upsetting our baby by talking so badly to it's godmother."

  Elizabeth rolls her eyes in annoyance. I can't help but crack a smile. I take pride in the fact that no one can annoy my bestie better than I can.

  "Maybe Tiny is up for the position then."

  "You better not, Elizabeth Hill. I called godmom dibs on that baby before you even met Tiny. Your first baby was always supposed to be my godchild. There's no going back on that promise."

  The matronly bridal assistant, who refers to herself as Miss Alberta, enters the room. She's an older woman with thick upper arms and thighs, and who dyes her gray hair entirely too jet black for her age, but she's as sweet as pie and reminds me of one of my favorite aunt's on my father's side of the family.

  "How are we doing in here ladies?"

  "Perfect," Elizabeth replies while at the same time I say, "Not so good."

  "Oh no?" She looks back and forth between us with genuine concern. "How can I help?"

  "There are so many beautiful dresses in here that I just can't make any sort of final decision right now," I say.

  That's my subtle way of letting her know that I'm not buying anything today, and that she should probably move on to another actual paying bride in the showroom area.

  "Aah, that's a common problem. When's the wedding?"

  "Soon," Elizabeth interjects while at the same time I say, "The date is undecided."

  Elizabeth turns up one side of her mouth and returns to rubbing her belly. Miss Alberta looks at both of us curiously but continues on with her questions.

  "So tell me, the last time you envisioned your wedding day, what kind of dress did you see yourself in?"

  She's not going to let me off easy.

  "I've never had an exact vision per say of my wedding day. I mean is that a thing? Do women have visions?"

  I can feel Elizabeth's judgmental stare searing the side of my face.

  "Are you newly engaged?" Miss Alberta asks.

  "Yes." I politely smile. "It hasn't been that long."

  "Are you feeling a few jitters?"

  "Umm, not really."

  Elizabeth purses her lips in a tight smile. As if she's dying to call me a big fat liar but has decided wisely against it.

  "Well, no matter. I can already tell what type of bride you are. Modern but understated. Nothing too obvious, too glamorous, too sexy or too pouffy. You need elegant, sleek, classic. A dress that skims the body."

  "Which is exactly the type of dress that she has on right now," Elizabeth chimes in. "A classic. Like Meghan Markle's."

  "Try this."

  I'm not exactly sure where she whipped it out from, but Miss Alberta places a short and delicate wedding veil on top of my head. The length just meets the tip of my chin.

  "It's perfect with this dress isn't it?"

  I take another look at myself in the mirror and see only part of what the two of them both see. A beautiful dress. Me in a beautiful dress. Yet something in my gut is telling me not yet. To wait.

  Sometimes you know something is coming. Something powerful. Something completely out of your control. You can feel it in the air. And you know that there is absolutely nothing you can do about it.

  It's this very feeling that has been gnawing at my gut recently. I'm not sure when it started. I just woke up one day with an uneasy feeling on my heart. I've been ignoring it for days now, actually weeks, but it's getting much more difficult to do.

  Elizabeth asks Miss Alberta in the most polite way to give us a few moments alone. As soon as she exits the room, the questions begin.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing." I start maneuvering myself out of the dress and veil.

  "Are you and Cutter ok?"

  "We're better than ok."

  "Then what is it? You're acting like a very reluctant bride and you're making me nervous."

  The dress pools at my feet.

  "Relax. Everything's fine."

  "Good grief your boobs are perfect. You sure you never had them done?"

  I ignore that thinly veiled compliment and consider the original question. What is up with me?

  "I think...I think that I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I have this great guy. This new career. My best friends are happy in their relationships and there's a new baby on the way. I'm just not used to everything being this good. I've told you how I grew up. I never wanted for material things, but there was lots of instability in my home. If it wasn't one thing, it was another living in the Pearson house. In fact the one thing I've learned is that nothing stays this good forever."

  "I've known you for years and I had no idea that you were thi
s pessimistic, Sloan."

  I step out of the dress and hold it up against my body with my hands. It smells new and the fabric feels expensive and cool against my skin. It would be a great dress for a summer wedding.

  “Neither did I."

  A wedding that for some reason I just can't seem to picture.

  My phone dings.

  My sister Dawn has forwarded me a link to a news article with a message from her that simply reads...

  Call Me.

  CAMDEN

  "This party blows."

  I laugh at my sweet little assistant. My lover. My best friend. She's been in a hell of a mood these last few days, and partying tonight with our friends and family was one of the last things she felt like doing– even if it is for Cutter (whom she adores).

  I'm not sure what's going on with her but she's in a shitty way. If she wasn't on the pill, I would swear that Jade was pregnant with my child, or maybe that's just wishful thinking.

  "You're just in a bad mood."

  She leans in and tries lowering her voice. Something she actually should have done ten seconds ago. I'm sure a couple of Sloan's former co-workers just heard Jade complain about being at her own boss's engagement party. Not a good look.

  "Are you paying attention?" she asks me rhetorically. "Look at Elizabeth. Look at Sloan. They're smiling with their mouths, but their eyes are saying something completely different. And look at Cutter. He's smiling and laughing so much that it's obvious he's hiding something."

  "You're overstating things as usual, Nancy Drew. Elizabeth is damn near ten months pregnant and is about to pop any second, so of course she's miserable; and the glamazon ... well that's just her resting bitch face; and my brother is being who he is… class clown…life of the party."

  "It's probably a very good thing you have me in your life, because you don't understand women at all. There's something else going on. Maybe you're right about Cutter, but those two are just going through the motions."

  I've had two Jack and Coke highballs already, so maybe I'm a little off my game, but I don't see what Jade thinks she sees. What I do know is that if there's any inkling of truth to it, that liquor will solve all of that shit. Well at least for everyone except Elizabeth. She'll have to settle for something non-alcoholic and maybe an order of our famous wings.