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All or Nothing
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Текст книги "All or Nothing "


Автор книги: C. C. Wood



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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

He ground harder and moved faster until it overwhelmed me and I came again. As soon as I did, he grasped my other leg, lifting it so that both my calves were crossed over one of his shoulders. Wrapping his arm around my thighs, King rammed into me over and over, his thrusts losing their steady rhythm.

After one final slam, he stayed deep inside me, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to leave bruises and his big body shuddering.

Neither of us moved, our chests heaving, while sweat dried on our skin. Finally, King withdrew slowly, evoking a sharp gasp from me because the small movement burned. Gently, he laid my legs down on the mattress and left the bedroom. I heard him moving around in the bathroom and water running.

A few minutes later, he came back into my room, still naked. Though I didn’t want to move, I needed to clean up as well, so I rolled off the bed. On shaky legs, I walked into the bathroom, peed, and washed my hands. The area between my thighs was tender and sore, so I wet a washcloth with cool water and held it against my sensitive flesh.

After a long moment, the burn finally faded and I tossed the cloth into the towel hamper. I made a detour into the kitchen for a big glass of ice water, draining it in several large gulps. Without thinking, I poured another glass for King and carried it into the bedroom with me.

He was sprawled on my mattress, naked, with both arms crossed behind his head. I hesitated in the doorway, my eyes studying every detail of his body. It wasn’t hard to see that King took care of his body. His muscles were well developed, almost bulky. He looked like the kind of man who could do whatever necessary to win a fight, if you were stupid enough to start one.

His obsidian eyes were on me when my gaze finally made its way to his face. He looked serious and thoughtful.

I moved to the bed, holding out the glass to him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, taking the water and drinking half of it in one swallow.

While he set the glass on the nightstand, I crawled under the sheet. Then King did what he always did when he was in my bed. He reached out and pulled me into his side so that my head rested on his chest and my body wrapped around his. I lifted my top leg, draping it over his thigh, and laid my arm across his ridged abdomen.

He flicked off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. His fingers sifted through my hair as we settled deeper into the bed.

“Tomorrow, I’m takin’ you to breakfast,” he murmured. “Best damn greasy spoon I’ve ever been to.”

Since I was half asleep, I didn’t truly understand what he was saying, so I just mumbled, “Uh-huh.”

Unlike earlier that night, I had no trouble at all falling asleep.

Chapter Nine

From then on, the dynamic shifted between us. We went to breakfast the next morning, and King was right, it was the best greasy spoon I’d ever been to. After we ate, he took me home and had me for dessert. Then we napped. It was a wonderful day.

King still came over every night, but at least twice a week, he would tell me to be ready to go out when he got there. He even took me back to his bar. We would sit in the corner, partially hidden while we drank and talked.

It was almost as if we were dating, but we were well past the first “getting to know you” stage. And I’d never had that much sex with a man I was dating, not even Justin and I’d thought he was insatiable.

What surprised me the most was that I had no guilt about Justin. Other than a strong twinge right after the first night King fucked me, the rest of the time, I’d barely given him a second thought. The realization made me feel like shit. I thought he was going to be the love of my life and a year and half later, I was screwing his best friend. Since I really didn’t want to think about it, I decided to file it away or, in other words, push myself into the deepest depths of denial.

That seemed to work just fine until the day King brought me flowers. Not only did he bring me a beautiful bouquet but they were purple irises. They were my favorite and out of season¸ so I knew that not only were they expensive, they were nearly impossible to find.

When he handed them to me, I smiled widely. “Oh my God, I love purple irises!”

“I know,” he answered, smirking at me. “That’s why I got them.”

As I was putting them in water, a thought struck me. I’d never told King they were my favorite flower. Which meant Justin must have mentioned it. I let that epiphany roll through me and it made my stomach feel hollow. It seemed wrong.

That hollow feeling grew as the weeks went by and specific details gradually dawned on me. King took me to my favorite restaurants. In fact we went to a lot of the same places Justin took me. I hadn’t noticed at first, but he did it without asking.

He seemed to know everything about me, yet I knew nothing about him. I hoped that by learning more, I could fill that pit that was growing in my stomach and put a stop to the uneasy feeling that remained in the back of my mind.

I needed to talk to someone about it, but I couldn’t share with Katie or Ashley. They knew about my loathing of King from the moment I first met him. If I told them what I was doing with him now, there was no way in hell they would understand. In fact, I was certain they would try to talk me out of seeing him all together. And though I knew they would be right to encourage me to dump him, I couldn’t do it. As perverse as it was, I enjoyed spending time with King now, even as he challenged me.

I was in the kitchen making dinner when he arrived. My day hadn’t gone well and I wanted comfort food.

“Smells good,” he commented as he went to the fridge for a beer.

“Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and corn,” I told him as I washed the bowl I used to mix up the meatloaf.

“My favorite,” he murmured, popping the top on his beer and taking a slug.

“Really?” I asked casually, even though my internal antenna was quivering. It was a piece of information about King that he offered freely. It was a rare occurrence. I had been hesitant to ask him questions like this because I knew it would be the same as admitting I was getting attached.

“Yep.”

“So, if I were going to make a dessert to round out this meal, what would be the perfect thing?”

He grinned at me, his black eyes twinkling as though he thought I were hilarious. “Apple pie. What else would it be?”

I giggled. “Well, it’s a good thing I bought a frozen one when I got the stuff for dinner.” I’d bought it for later in the week but I would definitely make it tonight.

King was silent while I rinsed the bowl and placed it in the drain board. While I dried my hands, I turned to him, leaning a hip against the counter.

He was watching me, a speculative gleam in his eyes. “You wanna make me my favorite dinner?” he asked.

Something about the way he asked the question made me hesitate before answering. “Yes,” I stated softly.

“Why?”

That took me off guard. “I’m sorry?”

“Why do you want to do that?”

I shook my head, even more confused. “King, I don’t understand what you want me to say.”

He deliberately set his beer on the counter and moved toward me. His face was no longer relaxed and content, but something was happening behind his eyes. I didn’t recognize the emotion, but it still made my heart beat faster and sweat break out on my palms.

King wrapped his arms around me, settling my hips against his. “Why do you want to make me something I like?”

Still not getting it, I tried to answer anyway. “Because I want to.”

He shook me gently. “Yes, but why do you want to?”

“King, I don’t understand what you want to know!” I snapped. “What’s wrong with me making your favorite dinner, whether I knew it at the time I started or not?”

He shook his head and sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with it, darlin’. I just wanna know why the idea of making my favorite dinner makes you so happy.”

The entire conversation was strange and annoying. “Dammit, I just want to give you something you like!” I snapped.

He squeezed me tighter. “You do that every time you give me that sweet pussy,” he muttered, his head coming down toward mine.

I smacked his shoulder. “Don’t say shit like that to me when I’m mad at you.” His words made the disappointment feel like a knife twisting in my belly. He talked as though I was just another piece of ass to him.

“What I’m asking, Jena, is why you smiled like I gave you a pair of diamond earrings when I told you that fucking meatloaf and mashed potatoes was my favorite dinner and then asked me what dessert I’d like to have if I had any choice?”

“I want to give you things you like, King. Is that a damn crime?”

“No, but it’s obvious it meant something to you. Why is that?”

I threw my arms up before dropping my hands to shove at his chest. “Because you do stuff like that for me all the time. I like it and I like you and I want to do the same kinds of things for you!”

He grinned at me. “Now, why was it so hard for you to say that?” he asked.

“Because I feel like you already know everything about me! You bring me my favorite flowers, you take me to my favorite restaurants without even having to ask me which I like, and you know exactly what movies I’ll want to watch when we’re hanging out at home. Yet I know almost nothing about you! You evade questions or pretend you didn’t even hear me. So, yes, it did feel like a gift when you finally opened up a little and told me that you like goddamn meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and apple pie, King. Jesus.”

I tried to pull out of his arms, my pleasure in giving him something he’d enjoy ruined, but his grip tightened.

“King-” I growled in warning.

His eyes were pointed down at my face, but I got the distinct feeling he wasn’t really seeing me. He looked as though he was a thousand miles away in his head and it didn’t look like a good place to be.

Then his gaze focused until he was staring right into my eyes and I knew he’d come to some sort of conclusion.

“You like me?” he asked.

I frowned up at him. His tone was surprised, as though he couldn’t believe it. “No, I fucking hate your guts, that’s why I let you have sex with me every day and sleep in my bed every night,” I answered sarcastically.

“Jena,” he growled.

“Jesus, King. What kind of women have you been with that you would think I’d spend so much time with you if I didn’t like you?”

He didn’t answer, just stared at me some more.

The timer went off and I jumped. I tried to extricate myself from King’s embrace, but he wouldn’t let me go.

“I need to get the meatloaf out of the oven before it burns,” I mumbled, tugging at his hands.

He took a deep breath then released me, going back to his beer and taking a pull.

We didn’t speak again as I finished making dinner. I got the pie out of the freezer to thaw and baked it while we ate on my couch. King wasn’t lying when he said it was his favorite. He cleaned his plate twice and then ate a huge piece of pie.

Still, he didn’t talk much the rest of the night. He also didn’t pull me into his side like he usually did. The two feet separating us on the sofa felt like two miles. For some reason, it made me want to cry. Somehow in the past few months, King had managed to infiltrate my defenses so deeply that I felt bereft without his touch.

That scared me. No, it terrified me. I was too dependent on him and his company. He made my body hum with pleasure and he also made me laugh. Now he was pulling away even more. I could see the distance growing between us and it was shocking how much that hurt.

A lump formed in my throat, threatening to choke me, but I swallowed it back. What was I going to do when he finally ditched me? How could I have been so stupid? King wasn’t built for the long term. He never said it, but it was obvious he didn’t want me to get too close.

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.

“Hi, Katie,” I answered, smiling and getting to my feet to give her a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

If I hadn’t been so surprised to see her and on edge because I was with King, I would have noticed that she didn’t return my embrace. She stood completely still in the circle of my arms, her own never even lifting.

But I didn’t notice because I was too busy freaking out about the fact that Katie, and soon Ashley, would know that I was spending time with King, which meant that I would be getting some curious phone calls and texts soon.

King gently pulled me away from Katie, wrapping an arm around my waist and tugging me back until my ass leaned against the edge of the stool between his spread legs.

I started to get an inkling that something was wrong as Katie’s eyes shot down to his arm around my waist and her brows slammed together. Her gaze wandered up and down my body twice before she looked over my shoulder, scowling.

“Really, King? Her?”

My body went solid against his, every muscle so tight that I could barely breathe. What the hell?

King’s voice rumbled next to my ear. “Do not go there, Kay. Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to.”

Katie scoffed, tossing her hair. “Does she know, King?”

His arms tightened around me, squeezing so tightly I almost couldn’t breathe. “Katie,” he growled. It was a warning.

I decided it was time to wade in. Katie was my friend and she was obviously upset. I pulled at King’s arm, trying to get some space so I could go to my friend, but he wouldn’t release me.

Ignoring him, I said, “Katie, why don’t we go outside and talk?”

“Talk?” she asked scathingly. “Why? In another week it won’t matter, because he’ll have dumped your ass too.” She laughed but it was without humor. “We can form a support group or something.”

Finally, her words and tone sank through the internal freak out I was having. “What are you talking about?” I asked softly.

She pointed over my shoulder. “Ask him,” she hissed.

Suddenly, Jack and another of King’s bouncers named Chad appeared behind her. I felt King motion behind me and Jack cupped Katie’s arm.

“Okay, babe, it’s time to go,” he drawled.

She jerked her arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

Jack’s face went hard as a rock. “Either you walk outta here of your own free will or I carry your ass out kicking and screaming. Your choice.”

Turning her hot glare at me, she spat, “I thought you hated him, Jena. Isn’t that what you said?”

“That’s enough.” Jack reached out and grabbed her arm again. “You’re leaving.”

Katie yanked her arm again, but he didn’t release her this time. Jack turned her and marched her toward the door to the bar, Chad on the other side, silent and scary.

As soon as she was gone, I whirled on King. I’d figured out what she meant.

“You slept with her?” I asked.

He kept an arm wrapped around my waist, preventing me from stepping back. “Let’s go into my office,” he muttered.

I shook my head. “Absolutely not.”

He’d only met Katie and Ashley once, at Justin’s funeral.

“You slept with her?” I prompted.

He sighed. “My office, Jena.”

I pulled away violently, almost falling on my ass when I did. “Hell no, King. Answer my question!”

“Yes! Yes, I fucking slept with her!” He snapped. When he saw the expression on my face, he took a step closer, leaning over me and lowering his voice. “Right around the time Justin died. I’d just bought the bar and she came in with Ashley one night.”

I frowned at him. “I’ve known Katie a long time. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t be so upset over a one night stand.”

“I never said it was one night,” he answered.

Shaking my head, I looked over his shoulder and stared at the shelves of liquor behind the bar. “You know what, I don’t even care. I do know that whatever this is between us, it needs to end.”

“You’re fucking kidding me? You’re going to blow me off over some bitch I slept with over a year ago?”

My body went rigid. “Some bitch?”

His eyes became shuttered at my question.

“For one thing, that bitch is a good friend of mine-”

“She isn’t your friend,” he growled.

I rolled my eyes. “Let me finish! It’s not just her. It’s everything, King. What in the hell are we doing here? You act like you want to know everything about me, but you never reciprocate. The only time we seem to be on the same page is when we’re having sex.” I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down somewhat. “I want more than that, King. I deserve more than that. I deserve what Justin and I had together.”

King’s face shut down. There was no other word for it. He was devoid of expression. “You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.”

“Yes, I do,” I hissed. “You want the same fucking thing, King, but you’re too chicken shit to give anything in return. You’re the man who always wants what he can’t have then you throw it away when you get it and the thrill of the chase is gone.”

His hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back. The pain was sharp and sweet, tearing a gasp from my throat, not of fear but of pleasure. Even while I was enraged, I relished his touch.

Voices around us continued with their conversation, the noise level in the bar a dull roar. It was like a cocoon, surrounding us yet separating us from them.

As I stared up into his black eyes, I knew King was going to give me what I wanted. He was going to let me go. This was the end.

His free hand lifted to my face and his thumb swept across my cheekbone. “Those fuckin’ eyes of yours,” he muttered. “Your body gives me what I want every time I touch you, but those goddamn eyes defy me. Why?”

I didn’t answer, merely returning his stare.

His hand gripped my hair tighter. His eyes glittered like polished obsidian, cold and hard. “Answer me,” he demanded.

“You want something I can’t give you.” And he did. He wanted it all, but I knew I’d never have all off him. There was no way it would work.

“And what’s that?”

“My complete surrender.”

The gleam in his eyes was no longer cold. It was hot, like molten lava. “I could have that if I wanted it,” he whispered.

Even though it hurt enough to bring tears to my eyes, I shook my head. His grip on my hair pulled several strands free and made my eyes water. “I won’t give you that. I can’t. I’m not whole anymore, King. Those pieces of me belonged to a man who cherished them and now, like him, they’re dead and buried.”

My response seemed to take him off guard and he released me. A muscled ticked in his jaw. He was furious, but he didn’t speak.

“It’s over,” I stated, my voice taut with grief and anger. I’d finally had enough and gathered my resolve. I’d known this moment was coming for a while.

Brushing past him, I wove my way around the full tables, ignoring curious eyes. I was almost to the door when his hands gripped my upper arms.

“This isn’t a fuckin’ romance novel, darlin’. Playing the heart-broken heroine after fucking me for six months doesn’t fly.” His angry voice rumbled against my ear like thunder.

It was the anger that snapped the last of my control. I shrugged his hands off my shoulders and whirled on him.

I stepped into him, rolling onto my toes so our faces were inches apart. Not for the first time, I wanted to bite him, to make him bleed, but the urge was much stronger than before. I wanted him to hurt the way I did, but he never would because he didn’t feel anything real for me.

Instead I hissed, “No, it isn’t a romance novel. It’s my goddamn life! I’ve lost more than you’ll ever have and there’s no way I’m going to give you more.” I rocked back on my heels, taking in the stunned look on his face. We’d fought before, but I think it was finally sinking in that I was truly done. “You know, if you really did want all of me, if you weren’t playing your fucked up mind games, I might be tempted to try. But because I know you better than that, I’m doing the right thing. I’m walking away.”

His face was blank, a mask. He didn’t speak, didn’t move. He just stared at me with black eyes that burned like coals in his empty face. And like his face, I understood his soul was just as empty.

Though the bar was loud, I knew he would hear me when I whispered, “I will never see you again.”

Without a moment’s hesitation or regret, I turned and walked out of that hot, crowded bar and into the cold, pure rain that fell from the sky.

Maybe if I stood beneath it long enough it would wash me clean.


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