Finally, tired from all the self-recriminations in my head and battling against tears, I got up. “I’m gonna go shower and go to bed,” I muttered to King.
He grunted, his eyes never leaving the TV.
Heart heavy, I went into the bathroom and got ready to shower. With the hot water running to mask the sound, I cried.
I didn’t bother drying my hair after I was done. I crept from the bathroom into the bedroom and put on my big t-shirt and panties before I slipped between the sheets. King still hadn’t come to bed by the time I fell asleep.
* * *
My body was turned and I was lying on my back, which woke me from my restless dozing.
“King?” I asked thickly.
He didn’t respond with words. His lips hit mine and his tongue slid inside my mouth. I made a low sound in my throat, wound my arms around his neck, and kissed him back.
It was different from any kiss I’d shared with King before.
His hands skimmed up my sides beneath my shirt, bunching the fabric around his wrists, until he pulled it over my head. His hot, naked skin hit mine and I shuddered against him.
I lifted my thigh, wrapping my leg around his hip so the hard ridge of his erection rubbed against my clit. Then he shifted to the side, away from my hips and I moaned in protest.
“Shh.”
His mouth moved down my throat, lips and tongue teasing my skin, to my breasts. He licked and sucked at my nipples until I was writhing against him, but he didn’t seem to share my urgency.
King took his time and, while he wasn’t gentle, he also wasn’t rough or wild. There was an intensity behind his touch, something deeper. His hand trailed over my abdomen and removed my underwear swiftly. Then his fingers slid up my inner thigh, right to my center.
My legs fell open as he stroked my clit. The orgasm built within me slowly but surely as he continued to lavish attention on my breasts while his hand continued to play between my thighs.
When it finally hit, the climax was overwhelming. My breath left my lungs and my body arched as I rode the waves.
Before I could come down, he shifted over me, his hips angling toward mine, then he was inside. I gasped as he filled me, deeply and completely. I wrapped my legs around his hips, my heels digging into the backs of his legs.
He thrust hard and slow, his hands grasping my head and holding me still. Even in the dim light of my bedroom, I could see that his eyes were on my face, glittering like two chips of onyx.
He didn’t kiss me again, but his lips were close enough to touch mine and our breaths mingled as our bodies moved in harmony.
It wasn’t sex. It wasn’t fucking. It was deeper and more meaningful than that. It was making love and it was beautiful. So beautiful that tears gathered in my eyes and trailed down my cheeks.
I don’t know how, but he saw them in the dark. King ducked his head and followed the wet trail with his lips.
My breath caught in my throat and my hips lifted against his as another orgasm washed over me. It wasn’t as strong or overwhelming physically, but it shattered me, completely and utterly.
He felt it and he was right there with me, his hips losing their steady rhythm. Breathing ragged, King ground into me, his body shuddering against mine as his own release wracked him.
Then he kissed me, as light and gentle as butterfly wings, and the tears returned.
I knew right then that King was in my heart, whether I wanted him there or not. Whether he wanted to be there or not.
And when he left, my heart wouldn’t just break. The part where he resided would wither and die.
Chapter Ten
‡
I watched as King made his way toward me in the movie theater with the popcorn and soda he’d bought for us at the concession stand. I did that often, taking in the way he moved. He was nothing like Justin in that aspect.
Justin always moved well, but it was more of a swagger, confident and easy.
King was all about economy in motion. For such a large man, he was incredibly light on his feet and graceful. There was no bravado or arrogance about him. He didn’t enter a room as if he expected attention but he did walk in as though he owned it.
That wasn’t the only way he differed from Justin.
I knew that my attitude bothered Justin when we were together, so I always felt the need to tone it down. With King, it didn’t feel necessary. He seemed to appreciate my sass and my smart-ass tendencies.
I hadn’t realized how different I would feel with him. I never had to censor my words or deal with his sulking because I’d smarted off. It was freeing.
King also wasn’t what I expected. He was more attentive and considerate than I would have thought possible after our first meeting. Like tonight. He’d asked me if I wanted to see this particular action movie because he knew I liked the leading actor.
It didn’t strike me until much later that I’d never mentioned this to him. It wasn’t the first time he’d done something for me that I liked when he shouldn’t have known.
It was gradually sinking in that he and Justin must have talked about me. Not just casual conversations, but in detail, and it was freaking me out.
I tried to combat the suspicion by asking King more about himself. All I got in return were half-hearted answers and an abrupt change of subject. It was pissing me off.
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could avoid the subject. It weighed too heavily on me.
“Jena?”
I blinked and looked up at King, who was holding out a soda to me. I took it with a forced smile. “Thanks.”
He settled in the seat next to mine. “You okay?”
The lights suddenly dimmed and the screen lit up, saving me from having to formulate a lie.
“Fine,” I muttered. “Just thinking.”
I needed to figure out what to say to King. I had to know what Justin told him about me.
That shouldn’t be an awkward conversation at all.
* * *
The epiphany that my former boyfriend had shared personal information about me to his best friend preyed on my mind for days. After King made love to me, I knew I needed to start a slow, subtle withdrawal.
Every time he was gentle with me and looked at me as though I was all he could see, I lost a little more of my heart. The man he was showing me was someone I could love.
Even as he pulled me closer, King held a part of himself back.
He wanted everything I had to give and, while he maintained the illusion he was offering me the same, I knew better. He changed the subject when I asked about his family and he never asked me to stay at his home.
King knew that I was on to his evasion tactics. He also didn’t do a damn thing about it.
He still came over every night and slept in my bed. He would take me out on actual dates; dinner, his bar to play pool, even the movies when some action flick we both wanted to see came out.
On the surface, it was a budding new relationship headed somewhere special. It was a lie.
Finally, it came to a head one night at his bar. Looking back on it and remembering how the pressure was building inside me, what happened that night was a relief. I constantly felt as though I were balanced on the edge of a precipice, waiting to see which way I would fall.
That night we were sitting at the end of the bar, furthest from the door, partially hidden by the shadows cast in the corner. He was drinking a beer and I had a margarita on the rocks. We were finishing up our drinks with the intention of going home and jumping each other’s bones before going to sleep.
“Jena?”
My eyes snapped up at the sound of Katie’s voice. She stood on the other side of King, staring at me incredulously. I hadn’t seen her since the night King had fucked me on the desk in his office. When he and I started spending so much time together, I’d stopped making the effort to get together for girls’ night out with them and we hadn’t met up since. I’d talked to them both on the phone regularly, but that was it.