• Twelve •

It wasn’t healthy, this thing we were doing.

Rumor

We were halfway through the second John Wick when I found myself struggling to keep my eyes open. I had thought I could make it through another movie, but I had underestimated the effects of the two drinks Sebastian had made me. Each blink got heavier, and I yawned, then forced myself to sit up. Storm was texting on his phone, and Sebastian was focused on the movie.

I didn’t know how much longer it would be before King returned, but I wasn’t sure I could wait up any longer. The later it got, the more I began fixating on what it was he was doing.

Before I could say my good nights and excuse myself, the door opened. My stomach did a little flip at the sight of King in a tuxedo. His gaze scanned the room and locked on mine. Smiling, I stood up, happy he was back. That he was looking for me and that I’d get to go to sleep beside him.

I took a step in his direction when his eyes seemed to harden, then flare, as if some demonic presence had taken over him. His hand moved so quickly that I didn’t realize what was happening until he had a gun pointed at Sebastian.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, moving back and almost falling over the coffee table.

“Take off the goddamn hoodie, Rumor. Now,” King demanded, his eyes never leaving Sebastian.

I swung my gaze over to Sebastian as he stood up slowly, then turned to King. Much like King, the movement of his hand was so fast that I almost missed him pulling the pistol from his side and aiming it at King.

My hand flew up to cover my mouth as my heart slammed against my chest.

“NOW!” King shouted. “GET IT OFF!”

I realized he was talking to me, and I reached for the hem of the hoodie while my hands trembled so violently that I was struggling.

“Jesus Christ,” Storm said, sounding more put off than anything. “You’re scaring the shit out of her.”

“He’s the one who pulled the gun,” Sebastian said, his tone hard. “And over a fucking hoodie. She was cold.”

“And you didn’t think to let her go get one of mine?” King asked as I pulled the one I was wearing over my head and dropped it onto the sofa. My eyes going back to King.

“We—we—were go-ing outside,” I stammered, willing him to look at me and put his gun away. Both of them.

“Were you now?” King asked, his eyes narrowing as he continued to point his gun at Sebastian.

“Fuck this,” Storm snarled, standing up. “I stayed here tonight so this shit wouldn’t happen. And you’re doing it anyway?”

“He put his goddamn hoodie on her,” King growled.

“Technically, she put it on herself,” Sebastian replied.

“King,” I said, willing him to look at me. “Please stop.”

His eyes cut toward me then, and I pleaded with him silently. We stood there like that for several moments before he seemed to calm and lower his gun. I put a hand on my stomach, not sure if I was going to throw up or not. Nausea had suddenly come over me, and I wanted to sit back down, but I didn’t dare do it.

He put his gun back in the holster under his jacket, then held out a hand to me. “Come here.”

My legs felt wobbly as I made my way over to him, checking to be sure Sebastian had also put away his gun. Relieved to see he was no longer pointing it at King, I tried to calm my racing heart as I went to him.

When I was close enough, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him, then buried his nose in my hair for a second before tucking me under his arm. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t want any more guns or shouting. I went willingly, although the more I thought about what had happened, the angrier I got. He had pointed his pistol at Sebastian over a hoodie? That wasn’t sane. It was more like the definition for unstable and unhinged.

None of them said anything more to each other as we left and walked to the stairs, then to King’s bedroom. Once inside, he slammed the door with more force than necessary, causing me to jump. I spun around and watched him stalk toward me, which had me backing up away from him until the back of my legs hit the bed. He reminded me of a lion coming after its prey.

“You get cold, sweets, I got a closet full of fucking clothes you can put on.”

I nodded, swallowing nervously.

He reached me then, and I held my breath as he ran a hand down my arm.

“No other man’s clothing touches this body. Do you understand?”

I didn’t, but I nodded anyway. It was just a hoodie. Fabric. It had smelled like laundry detergent. I hadn’t even known it was Sebastian’s. I’d thought he’d just grabbed the first thing he saw.

“You … you … held a gun on him,” I said, fighting the urge to cry or hit him. I was torn between being terrified or pissed off.

He nodded his head once as he ran his knuckles over my collarbone. “Yeah. I should have shot him in the leg to make a point.”

I shook my head. “No. It was a hoodie. You don’t shoot people over clothing.” Words I never thought I’d have to say to someone.

His eyes met mine. “He knew better. Trust me.”

I disagreed with him, but I didn’t say so.

“I don’t like guns,” I told him.

He smirked and ran his hand through my curls. “Yeah, but you like me, and I come with a few.”

I placed both hands on his chest and tried to move him back. I wanted some personal space. I opened my mouth to tell him so, but then my eyes dropped to the collar of his shirt, and I froze.

Red lipstick was on the starched white cotton. I didn’t own red lipstick, and I hadn’t been kissing his neck tonight. I shoved hard, and although he didn’t move, I felt him tense. His eyes narrowed.

“Get away from me,” I bit out.

Fury, pain, betrayal all began to twist in my chest. He’d come in here and held a gun on Sebastian over a piece of clothing, yet he had lipstick on his shirt

“No,” he replied, grabbing my hips and pulling me closer to him.

Unable to look at him or his shirt, I glared at the wall to my left. “You have lipstick on your shirt,” I snapped as my chest felt like it was going to explode.

His hands tightened their grip on me. “We had to act. Sell the relationship.”

“With her lips on you?”

King took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing my face in his direction. I refused to look at him though. I stared at his chest instead.

“Look at me, Rumor,” he demanded.

“No! You come back from making out with another woman and pull a gun on your friend for letting me use his hoodie! That is not fair.”

King released my chin, but he buried his hands in my hair, holding on to both sides of my head and tilting it back until I had to meet his gaze or close my eyes. “I didn’t make out with Scotlin. I endured her. It was fucking hell. One I couldn’t wait to get away from. All I thought about was getting back here to you. Then, I walked in and saw you in another man’s hoodie. Yeah, I reacted poorly. Rage is a hard bitch, and I had no control over it. I should probably apologize, but I won’t because if I ever see another man’s clothes on your body again, I will shoot him, I swear to God.”

Did I believe him? He hadn’t made out with her? Had he kissed her at all? What did it mean that he had to make it believable? How affectionate did they get?

“She put her lips on you,” I said.

“I didn’t want it. I didn’t enjoy it,” he replied in a softer tone. “Come take a shower with me.”

I shook my head. “We did that earlier.” I also wasn’t ready to just let this go. Move on. I was considering sleeping on the sofa.

“I want to wash Sebastian’s fucking hoodie from your body and Scotlin’s shit off me. Please, sweets.”

I sighed in frustration at myself. At this situation I had gotten into and the fact that I wanted to please him, even after he pulled a gun on his friend over something so dumb. It wasn’t healthy, this thing we were doing. At least not for me. He had too much control over me, and I was the one giving it to him.

Glaring up at him, I clenched my teeth. “Fine. But I want that shirt burned. And the next time you come back with her lipstick on you, I am moving back to Maeme’s.”

“It’ll never happen again. I swear it.”

I nodded, feeling somewhat better.

He ran his hand through my hair and wrapped a strand of my curls around one of his fingers. “Are we good?” he asked.

I didn’t know if that was the word I would use. But there was no other option, except to just walk away. Demand to go back to Maeme’s. Shut him out.

I wouldn’t do that though. It would be too painful. The idea of not having him at all was becoming something I couldn’t accept. Even if he was unhinged and deranged.

“Yes,” I replied.

He leaned down, and his mouth covered mine. One flick of his tongue against my bottom lip, and I opened for him. My body seemed to do its own thing where King was involved. Even if I wanted to put up walls and protect myself, I couldn’t. I craved him in ways that would most likely destroy me.

The deep hum of pleasure in his chest vibrated against me. There was one thing I was sure of. King Salazar wanted me. He made that very clear. It was another hold he had on me. No one had ever made me feel this wanted, this desirable. He showed me what it was like to lose myself to pleasure. Perhaps I was going to become addicted to him. Or I already was.

“I want you in the shower, sweets,” he said as his hands bunched up the fabric of my tank top until it was over my breasts. “Get naked.”

I lifted my arms, and he took it the rest of the way off. Then, he went for his shirt as his eyes locked on my chest.

“Take off the bra.”

My hands trembled as I reached behind me to unhook it while he made quick work of his shirt and shrugged out of his jacket. When the lace cups fell free and the bra slid down my arms, he sucked in a breath as an evil smile curled his lips.

“Fuck, I needed that view. Now, get the bottoms off for me and don’t wear them again. They’re too short.”

I paused at the button of my shorts. “Are you serious?”

He tossed the shirt I wanted burned to the ground. “Deadly.”

I started to argue when he began to unfasten his pants. My stomach fluttered as his abs flexed and the V cut was fully revealed.

“Naked—now,” he ordered, and I remembered what I was doing.

With shaky hands, I finished with my zipper and slid the shorts down my legs, along with my panties, until I could step out of them. When I straightened back up, King’s hooded eyes were following my every move. His pants were gone, along with his boxer briefs. My gaze dropped to his rigid erection, and I sucked in a breath at the sight of it.

“Sweets,” he said, drawing my attention back to his face, “do you trust me?”

That was a loaded question. There were things I trusted him with, but others I didn’t. Not anymore. But we were standing in his room, naked, and I was pretty sure this question meant if I trusted him with my body. That was a yes. He had never not rocked my world sexually.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Good girl.” The pleasure in his voice curled around me like a warm blanket. He held out his hand to me, and I stepped forward and placed mine in it. “Get on your knees.”

I tensed and stared down at his erection again. I’d done this once with Hill. He’d slapped me and told me I was pathetic at it. Panic started to build in my chest. As much as I wanted to put my mouth on him, trace his V cut with my tongue, and worship every ounce of his perfect body, I didn’t want to let him down.

He slid his knuckle under my chin and tilted my head back to look up at him. “On your knees,” he repeated huskily.

Not wanting to disobey, I slowly eased to my knees in front of him.

He ran his hand over my head. “Damn, that’s pretty,” he murmured.

Nervously, I reached to wrap my fingers around it. The swollen head was almost blue, I realized. Sticking out my tongue, I ran it over the tip.

King’s hand fisted in my hair. “Fuck,” he hissed.

I took that as encouragement and licked each side before opening my mouth wide enough to slide it between my lips.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned as his hand tightened its hold on my hair. “Such a hot little mouth.”

My nipples tingled from his words, and some of my anxiety eased as I took more of him. Wanting to keep making him feel good. Knowing that I was the cause of it. When I had him as deep as I could take him, I lifted my gaze to his, and he let out a deep rumble in his chest.

Our eyes held as I started to work my mouth over him in a steady rhythm.

“Ah, fuck, that’s my good girl,” he said, staring down at me as if I were some powerful, magical being. I felt like it at the moment.

His legs trembled, and it only urged me on. To take more, give more. Hear his pleasure as it grew.

He jerked hard on my hair, pulling himself free of my mouth. “UP!” he demanded.

I blinked, confused. I thought he’d been enjoying it. What had I done wrong?

“Sweets, if you don’t get up and in the shower, I am going to bend you over the bed and fuck the hell out of you.”

I wasn’t so sure I didn’t like that idea. Slowly, I stood, my legs a little wobbly. I looked back at the bed and considered bending over it.

“Don’t. Get in the shower,” he said. “It’s one more door to close off any sounds you make. If they hear you when I’m fucking you and say one goddamn word about it, I can’t promise I won’t put a bullet in them.”

I blinked and sucked in a breath, then decided I had better go get in the shower. I no longer doubted his threat to shoot someone. Not after tonight.