Sex, Lies & Lace (Sex and Lies Book 4)
Page 12
“Please stop apologizing,” I said as I re-laced my fingers through his and held onto his strong arm with my other hand. “This is the most magical evening I’ve ever had. I don’t want to spoil it.”
“That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me,” King replied as he turned on lights in the gourmet kitchen and stood back to look at me. His bright blue eyes were electric—haunting. There was a story behind those eyes and I was going to get to it. “Now the pressure’s really on to make dinner…you know…magical.”
I laughed at him as he shed his sweater and I did the same, hanging my new alpaca softness on the back of a stool in the kitchen. Still barefoot, I sat my shoes in the floor below my sweater and placed my purse next to it, creating a Reagan area in the kitchen.
King rolled up his sleeves as he began to pull ingredients from the pantry and pots and pans from over the Viking stove where they hung.
“Do you like to cook?”
He tilted his head to the side and shrugged. “I don’t do it very often, but tonight I’m making an exception.”
“That’s a relief. All that kissing made me ravenous.” My inner voice made an unexpected outward statement and in return I made an awkward face—my cheeks flushing with self-humiliation.
He stopped what he was doing and looked at me. “Me too. But not for food.”
The heat in my face intensified and I turned my back to him.
“Did I embarrass you Reagan?”
“Um…may I use your restroom?
“Down the hall,” he said motioning with a sharp knife. “Sixth door on the right.”
“Sixth?”
He nodded.
I tiptoed down the hallway and wondered what in the hell I was doing. Counting the doorways, when I made it to six, I reached into the dark room and flipped the light switch, noticing there were several switches on the wall. I turned them all off and on, unable to discern which switch went with which light.
The room was huge—the centerpiece a gold sink built into an elaborate antique piece of furniture. Everything about King Giles screamed class and elegance. I wanted to be elegant, but knew in my inexperience, I would fall short in his world—very short. I stared at my face in the mirror and shook my head. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into Reagan.” I said, giving myself a talking to. “You’re playing with fire here, girl. He’s not going to stand for you not putting out and then where are you going to be, huh? You’re going to be shit out of luck, that’s what. And you know you’re not going to tell him the truth, because he’d never believe you were a virgin to begin with. Now pee and get back in there.”
I washed my hands and once again flipped every switch until I got the lights off. Striding down the hall, I felt better after talking it over with myself. I would enjoy the evening with King and do my best to find out what he was all about. After that, I’d head back to New York in the morning. If the death of Tina Joseph was just a memory for everyone else, maybe I needed to get on the bandwagon.
I pushed open the swinging door that lead back into the kitchen where I found King standing, the tip of his large knife firmly planted in the cutting board as tomatoes and peppers lay all around.
“Is everything okay?”
King stood silent for a moment and I became uncomfortable at once. “King?”
“Look, Reagan. I can’t lie to you.”
“I wouldn’t want you to.” I felt my anxiety level rise and my pulse quicken. He was going to tell me the truth. He was going to come clean on why Tina was dead on his lawn.
“Maybe we should sit down for this.” Taking me by the hand, King led me into a spacious room that opened up onto the backside of Rose Hill. He picked up a remote that opened all the windows and the white curtains that covered the floor to ceiling windows began to flow in the gentle evening breeze.
“What a pretty room.” He sat me on a puffy silk covered couch that whooshed under my weight.
King took a seat next to me and looked me right in the eye. “Reagan,”
“Yes.”
“I need to tell you something.”
“Okay.” I nodded my head. Here it was, he was going to explain it all to me. Who he was, why Tina was dead and what the significance of the lace panties meant to the case. “I’m listening.”
“While you were in the bathroom…”
“Yes.” I nodded my head again, anxious to hear his explanation.
“You must’ve flipped the switch on the wall for the intercom.”
“What?”
“Yeah.”
King rubbed his short sexy beard under his hands and his hesitation spurred my anxiety. “I don’t…”
“I heard everything you said.”
I stared at him. “You mean you—”
“Yes.”
“When I was saying that I was—”
“Yes.”
“Then you know I’m a—”
“Yes.”
I dropped my face into my hands. I’d never been so embarrassed in my entire life. “Oh God.”
“It’s okay.”
“Oh, God.”
“Reagan…”
“Oh, God,” I said a third time, raising my voice to a high-pitch whisper.
King peeled my hands from my red and now sweaty face. “Reagan.” The corners of his mouth were barely turned up as he gave me a comforting smile. “It’s okay.”
I turned away from him, feeling the tears well in my eyes. “No. It’s not.”
Standing, King walked around me and sat down on my other side. Again I turned my head away. “Stop,” I begged.
“Reagan. Look at me.”
“I can’t.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” King brought his voice down to a gentle rumble. “I think it’s…sexy—incredibly sexy. Jesus, if you really knew me, you’d know I was telling you the truth.”
“No, King. You don’t understand.” Tears fell from my eyes—the evidence of my mortified existence on the front of my black dress.
“Then explain it to me.”
I took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can.”
“I don’t want you to do or say anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”
“I’m a virgin. But not how you think of a virgin.”
He shook his head. “I don’t follow, love.”
“Exactly.” I knew there was no good outcome from this conversation.
“Reagan, I’m an intelligent and compassionate man. I’m a doctor. I’ve seen it all. Now, explain it to me,” he begged as he took my hands again and kissed the top of each before placing them in his own lap.
I took a deep breath. “When I was fourteen, I was kidnapped and raped by a group of men who were looking to get back at my father for arresting one of their gang members. I was held captive for two weeks. They tied me to a bed and used me whenever they wanted. I’m sure they would’ve killed me, but my father found me and killed them all. After that, I had issues—issues with boys, with men, with intimacy. My mom died when I was ten and my dad couldn’t deal with what happened to me, let alone the fallout from it. I didn’t have a mother to talk with and my dad needed to pretend like it didn’t happen. It was too painful for him to deal with. He thinks he failed me—allowing me to be kidnapped in the first place. I didn’t date in high school, and in college all I cared about was making grades so I could apply to the Academy. I’ve avoided any kind of real relationship my whole life.”
King wrapped his arm around me and pulled my face into his warm chest as I cried. “I’ve never told anyone that before. I mean, my dad and my therapist know, but the records were sealed, so no one else knows. My friends just thought I’d been beaten—and I was. I was beaten…and raped over and over.”
“Jesus, Reagan, I’m so sorry,” he said hugging me even tighter and rubbing my back.
“So I consider myself a virgin. Because I’ve never willingly had sex—I’ve never made love. I don’t even know what that is.”
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br /> “Here sweetheart.” King pulled a white handkerchief with a crown embroidered in the corner from his back pocket and handed it to me. It was chivalry in its purest form.
He didn’t say another word, but merely rocked me back and forth as he held me in his arms. It was enough. He smelled wonderful and I tried to lose myself in that very thought and the beauty of his sweet kisses earlier in the night.
I dried my eyes with the hankie and sat up to look at him. I knew I was swollen, I knew I was an embarrassed hot mess, and I knew he was probably done with me. A suave and sophisticated man like King would never be interested in someone as damaged as I was, as clueless.
Damaged. It was the word the one guy I dated in college used after I freaked out on him. He’d grabbed my crotch at a frat party and when I decked him and broke his nose, it’s what he said to me. There’s something wrong with you, bitch. You’re damaged goods or some shit. He was right. It was some shit.
“Reagan look at me.”
I brought my eyes from the floor and stared into his handsome face.
“You’ve been on my mind constantly since we met. I thought you were so breathtakingly beautiful the day you walked into my study. I should’ve been freaking out because Tina was dead—and I was—but just being in your presence did something for me. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. I have trust issues as well, but I manifest it in another way—control. With you, I have a very hard time controlling anything.”
I looked away. I was at a loss. I didn’t know what to say or think.
Resting two fingers under my chin, King firmly brought my gaze back to him, cupping my face in his hands. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m even more attracted to you now that I know more about the real you.”
“That’s not possible.” I choked on the words and sniffed.
King ran his soft fingers along my cheekbone, wiping away my tears. “And yet, it is.”
I collapsed in his arms and cried. Years of pent up feelings came rushing out in one moment. I could feel his strong hands rubbing my back over and over as I let out every emotion I had all at once.
King whispered in my ear. “Stay with me tonight, Reagan. We don’t have to do anything—we won’t. I just don’t want to take you back to your hotel. Not like this. I don’t want you to be alone tonight. And honestly…I don’t want to be alone either.”
“Why don’t you want to be alone?” I sniffed back my tears and tried to pull it together.
“I’m a man who never takes life or its precious moments for granted. I’ve witnessed too much death for that. When I feel something, I act on it. It’s just my way. Because I never know when my last moment might be. None of us do. So stay with me. I know you’re a strong woman, but even strong people need to let down at times. This is one of those times. Stay with me and let me hold you in my arms all night. Say yes, Reagan.”
My mind was as blurry as my teary vision. I didn’t know why I felt so comfortable—so unencumbered by defensive pretense when I was with King. Was it because he now knew the darkest part of me? Or was it that I was so attracted to him, I wanted him to know the depth of my soul? I didn’t know what I was doing, but I was willing to take a chance and follow my gut. I swallowed hard and looked into his blue eyes and replied with one word. “Okay.”
13
REAGAN
King placed his arm around me as we climbed the ornate staircase to the second floor of Rose Hill. “Don’t you need to turn off lights and lock up?”
“I can do all of that from my bedroom,” he said as we turned the corner.
“That’s convenient. Makes going to bed easy.”
“It does.”
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, King.”
Giving me another kiss on the head he laughed. “I knew what you meant.”
We walked into his study and he shut the door behind us. “I thought we were going to bed?”
“We are.”
“In here?” I looked around the room filled with books, couches, chairs and a huge desk.
King sat at his desk, opened a drawer and punched in some type of code before shutting it again. Immediately a bookcase in the far corner of the room made a loud click and came ajar.
“Are you kidding me?” I hid my question under a veil of sarcasm, thinking King Giles just got even more complicated and interesting. He shrugged his shoulders as if none of his James Bond moves should alarm me. “King, what is going on?”
“I told you. I’m a very private man.” He motioned for me to follow him through the secret door.
“Well, now I believe you but isn’t this a bit extreme?”
The false hallway was filled with a cool breeze, as if the whole space was a positive pressure airway. I followed him to the end of the short hallway and through another door—the bedroom door—where my astonishment must’ve shown on my face.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m surprised.” The entire room was white—white walls, white bedclothes, white curtains covering the windows. There was no furniture other than the king size bed, a nightstand with a house phone, a charging station, a digital clock and a remote. Across from the bed was an unusual piece of furniture—it too was white—white leather. A curvy bench of sorts I thought it was more artwork than furniture.
On the wall was an elaborate sound system—the speakers flush in each corner and across from the white king-sized bed was a fireplace—white marble with ornate golden cherubs.
“No television?” I asked with a smirk.
King picked up a remote control on the nightstand and clicked a button. No sooner had I opened my mouth than a flat screen began to rise from the whitewashed hard wood floor. “What tha…?”
“Did you want to watch television?” he asked, completely serious.
“No.”
He clicked the remote again and the TV went back where it came from.
“Through that door you’ll find the bathroom,” he said pointing to the only other door in the room. “I can get you a new toothbrush and I can find you something to sleep in.”
“What do you sleep in?”
“I sleep in God’s pajamas, but I’ll make an exception tonight. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
I nodded and walked toward the bathroom. “Any intercoms in here I need to be aware of?”
King shook his head. “No. But let me get you something to wear.”
I turned in a circle. “There’s no closet.”
He motioned for me to follow him once more into the bathroom. Flipping the switch, the crystal chandelier that matched the one in his bedroom illuminated the master bath, which was also completely white. There was a huge Jacuzzi tub, and an enormous white marble shower that looked like it was built for six people to use at one time. Taking inventory of the room, I noticed there were two sinks and a water closet with a bidet and a toilet. Just past that lay another door with a keypad.
One complicated code later, the door opened and King walked through. Lights automatically illuminated as he walked into the space where there were two more doors—one with another keypad and one with just a handle.
King pushed through the unlocked door, flipping on the light switch just inside it. An entire closet lit up, filled with suits, sweaters, belts, sunglasses—everything a man would ever need. The thing was, this room looked like the rest of the house—old world and certainly old money.
“I don’t get it.” King opened a drawer and procured a set of men’s cotton pajamas.
“You take the top, I’ll use the bottom.”
“King?” I knew he was trying to ignore my question.
“What?” He stopped to pull the shirttail from his pants, hanging his hands on his narrow hips.
I nodded my head to a door on the opposite side of the closet from where we entered. “What’s through that door?”
“That’s my bedroom.”
I looked behind me to the door we came through and then back to the door across
from it. “You have two master bedrooms?”
King ran his hands through his hair and let out a long sigh. “I have one official master bedroom. I have two unofficial rooms I use for sleep and…other things.”
Fidgeting, I folded the pajama set in my hands. “And the white room?”
“It’s where I sleep.”
“And the other unofficial room?”
“It’s where I do …other things.”
I thought back to Tina Joseph’s file and the sex club where she worked—Twirl. Suddenly, I felt I was in way over my head. “What kind of other things, King? What don’t I know about you that I need to understand? Are you a dominant? Are you into BDSM?”
King shook his head. “No.”
“Then what are you into?”
He paused and looked me in the eye. “I’m into the philosophy and theory of love—what triggers desire, what sustains it. I’m into the gratification-oriented faculties of human life. I’m into pleasure.”
“Define pleasure.”
King walked to me, taking the pajamas out of my hands and placing them on the granite counter in the center of the closet. “I believe that sex and sexual experiences are sacred acts, which are capable of elevating us to a higher spiritual plane.”
“So no whips and restraints?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been with women who want them, but it’s not for me. If it pleases them, I’ll oblige them, but only in my own way.”
Dropping my hands, King picked up the pajamas again and ushered me out of the closet, turning off the light and shutting the door behind us. I walked the short distance back to the bathroom, laying the pajamas on the counter.
I followed him back to the bathroom, mulling over all he’d just explained. Tantric Sex. King wasn’t into whips, he was into sexual spirituality.
He opened a drawer and pulled out a new toothbrush still in the package. “The drawers on the left hand side should contain anything you might need. But if there’s something you want, just let me know.”
“Why?” I asked. “You gonna run out and get it for me?”