: Chapter 47

“This is cozy.”

King’s voice sinks into my senses and I turn my head to watch him approach. Noticing that Val does the same.

The room is mostly in shadows, so his big form looks sinister walking through the dark.

Val knew where the switch was to turn on the outdoor fireplace, so we dimmed the lights in this room, turned the fire on outside, and have been watching the flames while eating our way through a bag of gummy bears Val pulled from her bag, talking about…

I try to concentrate, but I can’t remember what we were talking about before King came in.

He comes to a stop, standing behind our chairs, and I have to tip my head all the way back to see him.

“Sister,” He nods to Val, before he turns to me. “Wife.”

My stomach swirls, but it’s not the alcohol, it’s him.

“Husband,” I whisper the greeting.

His lids lower, and I watch his jaw flex before he bends down.

I start to close my eyes, thinking that he’s bending down to kiss me.

God, I really want him to kiss me.

Val’s snicker causes my eyes to slide back open.

Oh.

King wasn’t trying to kiss me. He was reaching for the half-eaten container of noodles I set next to my chair.

I should probably feel embarrassed, but watching him wield those chopsticks with skill, all I feel is lust.

I take a second to look him over, head to toe.

Arguably, completely naked has got to be my favorite version of King. I’m surprised my leggings didn’t rip themselves when he stripped down to nothing in front of me last night.

But this––the dark pants, white shirt,top buttons undone––it should be illegal.

His lips open and close around a mouthful of noodles, the smooth chopsticks sliding out of his closed mouth.

Even the way he chews is hot. His jaw muscles working, flexing with each motion.

I can see Val moving in my periphery, her head moving back and forth to look between me and her handsome-as-hell brother.

“Want a margarita?” she asks.

King swallows his next bite. “That what you two have been drinking?”

I try to nod, but looking up so high makes it hard.

King shovels in another huge mouthful, before he moves over to the little end table where all our drink stuff is sitting.

“We’re out of ice,” Val says, but King just grunts as he lifts the bottle of tequila.

I think my mouth might drop open when King lifts the whole bottle to his lips and tips his head back. His throat works twice, swallowing two mouthfuls. And I think I might’ve drooled watching the action.

I wouldn’t want to drink tequila straight like that, but watching him do it was hot as fuck.

“Everything okay?” Val asks her brother, hinting that this isn’t his usual behavior.

King drags the back of his hand over his mouth, eyes on me, before nodding. “Fine.” Then he looks at Val. “You staying over?”

She shakes her head. “No, I was gonna order a ride.” I finally pull my gaze away from King to watch her check her phone for the time. “Should probably do that now.”

“No.” King lifts his own phone from his pocket and presses it to his ear. We all wait as he starts speaking. “Bring a car around. You’re driving my sister home. Now.” Then he ends the call.

Val and I look at each other, and she rolls her eyes at his heavy-handedness. But I feel a surge of indignance, we didn’t say we were done.

“We––” I start to argue but King snaps his fingers.

Snaps. His. Fingers.

My lungs heave.

Holy hell, I felt that snap in my core.

I think Val laughs, but my ears are too full of buzzing desire to hear anything.

Val rises from her chair, and my balance wavers but I manage to get up and give her a quick hug goodbye.

“I’ll call ya later,” she says, even though we haven’t exchanged numbers. And I don’t have a phone.

King follows her across the studio, and I expect him to walk her all the way out of the house, but he stops there. And when Val steps through the door, King closes it behind her.

Trapping us in here alone.

He turns back to face me. And standing like this, a room apart, it doesn’t dull the pull I feel toward him. I can feel the crackle of desire like a lightning bolt between us. Like there’s something connecting my chest to his. A tangible string I swear I could touch if I tried.

King reaches out to the side and flips off the final light switch. Snuffing out the last source of the light from within the room.

I can still see him, the glow coming through the windows from outside, enough for me to see him stalking toward me.

My chest is heaving.

I want this.

I want this so bad.

King stops a foot away. Staring down at me. Eyes molten in the low light.

I’m too busy staring back to see his hands move. But then they’re gripping the hem of my t-shirt, pulling it up over my head.

My arms lift, and I let him take it off.

A calloused hand presses against my chest, dragging down, between my breasts, over my bra, down my stomach, to the top band of my jean shorts.

His fingers curl around the denim, making his knuckles press into the softness of my belly.

“I’m gonna keep coming inside of you. So if you don’t want a herd of kids just yet, you better find some birth control.”

The breath leaves my lungs.

That should probably make me mad.

And if he’d asked before our first time, I’d have told him I’m set for the next two and a half years.

But he didn’t ask. And when his fingers start to work on the button and fly of my shorts, the last thing I’m feeling is talkative.