King(37)

King watched as Evie turned at his employee’s masculine voice.

“She’s only buying you a mojito? You’re getting fucked before your clothes are off.” King almost spit out his cigar at her remark. Rory, on the other hand, whose face held the seductively masculine look he had perfected, lowered his guard enough to actually smile at her.

“It’s better than what I had to drink last night.”

“What was that? Mai Tai.” Evie winced, looking at him in pity.

King gritted his teeth, seeing Rory’s customer begin to develop a frown. It wasn’t a good look. The old bitch already looked like a hag.

“How much she giving you for tonight?”

“Evie.” His sharp voice didn’t stop Rory from answering.

“Ten thousand for the whole night.”

“Take the night off.” After Evie slid the envelope in her hand in front of him, Rory picked the envelope up, looking inside. He raised a brow at her.

“Are you sure you don’t need any company tonight?”

I am seriously going to beat her when I get her back to my apartment, King thought.

“I already have my night taken care of, but thanks anyway. Maybe another night.”

“I can’t take your money without giving you something in return.” Rory took a step forward, and before King could stop him, he swept Evie in a kiss that had King ready to punch him as Rory’s client stormed from the room.

Rory lifted his head, breaking the passionate kiss. “If you change your mind, call me.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a card, handing it to her. King noticed Evie was slow in taking the card, still befuddled by the kiss.

“King?” Rory’s eyes met his.

“Beat it. I’ll call her and make it up to her.” Although, both silently acknowledged it would be Rory kissing her ass to make amends.

“Thanks…?” Her breathy voice had King debating strangling her while everyone watched.

“Evie,” King growled.

“Thanks, Evie. I’ll see you around.”

“Yes, you will.” Evie leaned heavily against the bar as Rory left to enjoy his impromptu night off.

“King?” Evie sighed.

“What?” he snapped.

“You don’t charge enough for him.”

* * *

King stared down at Evie in the bed, the bedside lamp giving the room a muted glow. She lay sprawled out, naked on the mattress, her skin still bearing the imprint of his hand. He reached out, tracing the curve of her silky breast, noticing the gold chain around her neck.

His hand reached down, picking the thick locket up, fiddling with it and seeing a tiny button on the side. Pressing it with the tip of his nail, the top flipped back. A ring lay inside. King lifted it closer to see it better. It was a diamond ring. The diamond was small, but the ring probably cost a couple thousand. King wanted to rip the necklace from her then wake her up and fuck her again.

“It’s not nice to snoop.” Her soft recrimination had his eyes lifting to her drowsy ones.

“Who gave it to you?”

She lowered her eyelashes, her hand taking the necklace from him. “Levi, my high school sweetheart, gave it to me the day we graduated high school. He had saved his money up, working part-time for a year and a half.” Her hand tightened on the ring.

“He was worried that the diamond would be too small. I told him I didn’t even need a ring. I wanted to go to the court house and get married, but he talked me into waiting. He wanted to make sure he was what I wanted.

“He was afraid because we had grown up together that I couldn’t be sure he was the one. His mother was our housekeeper. No matter how much I told him it didn’t matter, though, he always felt the money between us.”

“Was he right?”

King saw the hurt before she concealed it.

“Not about the money, about him being the one,” King clarified his question.

“Oh.” She took a moment, staring down at the ring. “No, I knew I loved him from then until the day he died. I still love him.”

The answer to his question struck him inexplicably in the chest. Evie rolled over, lying on his chest. “I’m not an eighteen-year-old virgin anymore.”

No, she wasn’t. With her whiskey colored eyes and tumbled hair, she was a seductress. No shy virgin would be so confident as to press her nipples against his chest or slide her leg intimately between his thighs. A virgin wouldn’t slide her hand down his stomach until she reached his cock, sliding her thumb over the crest.

When the tip of her tongue traced her bottom lip, his hand curled against the nape of her neck, tugging her down to him. His tongue invaded her mouth, taking control and enticing her by tracing the tender flesh behind her bottom lip before tangling their tongues together. She broke free, taking deep breaths.