KING: Las Vegas Bad Boys (18 page)

I gently move Claire, so she is laying on her back. The tip of my hard cock presses against her opening, but she isn’t ready for my massive cock. I need to ease her into it, ease her onto me.

I lower myself so I can work over her soft pussy lips. My mouth quickly kisses her entrance, as I gently spread her knees further apart so I can slip my tongue between her thighs, into her.

“Mmhhhhmmm,” she moans, squirming. “Baby, I want to suck you off while you lick me,” she begs.

I’m not going to turn down her offer, so we switch positions, me on my back, her on top of me, and I , hold her waist as she straddles me, facing my cock so she can blow me hard. And her gorgeous ass is right in my face, giving me access to everything I need.

She leans over on cue, taking hold of my cock in her hands, and as she is bent over me her tits graze against my chest, getting me even harder. As she moves, her perfect ass moves up and down, taunting me.

I grab hold of her ass cheeks, pull her onto my face, wanting to suck her and eat her and lick her all night.

She tastes like creamy honey, her skin so soft, and her juice so sweet. Everything about her demands to be spread and tasted. I use my mouth to open her pussy lips, my tongue going deeper into her entrance.

Her mouth finds my cock, and she bobs above me as she begins sucking my hardness, her hands on my balls, on the base of my shaft. She’s working me over so good and fast. My cock throbs as she sucks, and I hold her waist so her pussy stays right against my mouth.

I blow soft air into her, and I love the immediate reaction her body offers. Soft juice pours from her all over my mouth, and I flick my tongue against her clit, hard and fast. As I do, I feel her sucking me deeper, taking more and more of me in her mouth.

I don’t want her to gag, but I do want my come all over her. I want to build up to a massive release.

She groans as I press a finger in her pussy. She drips as I bang her with one finger, then two. When I press in a third she stops sucking and rests her forearms on either side of me, as if unable to do anything but enjoy what I’m giving.

I pound into her until she gushes all over my chest. I keep moving in and out, the intensity deepening as her body stiffens, as her panting intensifies, as she comes again and again.

Then she collapses in pleasure, her perfect ass the only thing I see.

She isn’t a greedy lover, though; her hands still hold my hard cock, and she regains her breath as she turns around to face me.

“You were hungry,” she says, a sexy smile on her face. God I could look at his woman all day.

“You were ready for a release.”

“You. Are. Incredible. Like, insane.” She straddles me again, this time looking down at me as she sits on my thighs, my cock still in her hands.

I want her to sit on me so bad—I know I’ll only last a few minutes, but at this point I don’t care.

“You need to fuck me, Claire.” I bite my lip. “Now.” My cock is veiny and hard and just so ready to explode.

She doesn’t hesitate. She lowers herself onto my cock and raises her shoulders as she does, inhaling, her stomach flattening as she gently works herself down on top of me.

“Your cock is so ready,” she says, holding my base as she sinks onto me.

“You like it?” I ask.

“I love it.”

She begins grinding against me. This time, the moment she starts moving, her moans are more like cries.

“You are so deep in me,” she pants. “It feels so good.”

“I’m gonna come so fast.”

“Wait, I want your seed on me, all over me,” she says, her eyes meeting mine in a moment of vulnerability.

“You sure?”

“I just want to be covered by you Landon.... Is that weird?”

“No, it’s fucking hot. It’s fucking everything.”

Before I come, she lifts herself off me, her thighs slick and her eyes glistening with desire.

She takes hold of my cock and begins running her hand up and down it as I start coming, ropes of my milky release hitting her face, her tits, her mouth.

She lowers against my cock, as if not wanting to miss a single bead of come as it shoots from me. She licks her lips, tastes me, and I watch, mesmerized, as she swallows me.

She presses a finger to the come on her rounded breasts, swipes across the cream, and then sucks it off her finger.

The single motion gets me hard again. I feel her pussy growing wet and she leans down, taking my cock in her mouth for a second time.

It’s as if she can’t get enough.

As if all she wants is more.

More of me.

And I may not have a house for her. And I may not have a job. I may not have anything she needs.

But she still makes me feel like a fucking King.

A
s we step
out of the shower, after washing ourselves off one another—and another round—my phone starts buzzing.

And though I’m not in any hurry to return to anything besides this sex-cocoon Landon and I have created, I know I need to be a responsible adult. It could be an emergency. It could be Sophia.

I grab a towel and wrap it around me as I walk into the bedroom.

“Is everything okay?” Landon asks, coming up behind me, not wrapped in anything. I know this because I feel his perpetually hard cock pressed against my ass.

This man has undone me.

And I just want him in me—like, 24/7.

But being a grown-up means reading texts when I’m out of the country, instead of giving in to his erection.

Looking at the message, I groan. “Not important ... but um. Apparently we’re late for dinner.” I grimace. “Emmy says everyone is waiting for us. They’ve already had pre-dinner drinks. Because that’s a thing here.”

“Oh shit, I totally forgot. What time is it?”

“Eight-thirty.” I wince, knowing these formal English dinners are later than I have back home.

Mostly because back home I eat at five o’clock. I have to eat that early in order to have time for Sophia to take a bath, work on her sight words, and practice reading BOB books before her bedtime.

But eight-thirty is still half an hour past Arthur and Helen’s designated dinnertime.

“We’re screwed,” I say. My thumbs hover over my iPhone. “What should I say?”

“That you’re sorry, but you’ve been busy screwing you fiancée.”

“Ha.” I smirk. “Kinda true though, isn’t it?”

“Tell her that,” Landon says. “It will get us off the hook. Who can argue with two people in love?”

“And that’s us?” I ask, my smirk becoming more of a half-smile.

“I don’t think you’re in love with me,” he says, his arms wrapping around me from behind. “But, yeah. I’m completely in love with you, Claire.”

“That’s the sex talking.” I dismiss his words, because it’s safer. Easier. Less terrifying.

“It’s not.” He turns me to face him. “It isn’t, Claire. I love you. I want to be the man you want. The man you need. But I know you aren’t ready for that. For us.”

My breathing is heavy. I feel out of sorts, and I hate that. I don’t want to panic. I want to be the sure, confident Claire.

But I don’t know what to do with this confession. I’m unprepared for it. No one has ever offered their love to me. No one has asked me to be theirs. No one has pretended to be my fiancé and then fallen in love with me.

And I’m scared this might just be the magic of the vacation, the drama of the bankruptcy and the secret we’ve been keeping, that makes him feel like he could change his entire life for me.

I can’t give my heart to a man who might have second thoughts the moment he meets my daughter. The moment he’s back in Vegas with the single women and the sex and the casino. I can’t compete with that.

I don’t want to compete for anything. I just want to be loved and let that be enough.

“I can’t say those words back to you, Landon.”

“That’s okay.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. Claire, look, I know you deserve a better man than me. I’m not going to trick you into loving me. And I want you to want me. Does it fuck with my ego to know the woman I’ve fallen for has reservations? Of course, it seriously does ... but that doesn’t change anything. I still want you.”

The phone is still in my hand. I don’t know what to text Emmy. Do I want to be silly and stay in this make-believe relationship? Knowing Landon’s heart is all in? Knowing I don’t know if I can get there?

And even if I can ... I know there are some major things I’m gonna need to deal with before I can fully give myself to anyone, ever.

And I don’t know if I’m ready to open that can of worms. I haven’t been ready for five years.

“We should get dressed,” I tell him, knowing it isn’t what he wants, what he deserves.

“Just like that?” he asks, his face solemn.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, knowing I’m hurting him by pulling away. “But, listen, I promised you the night, and it isn’t over. We just need to eat dinner and appease the people downstairs. Then I’ll come back up here with you.”

“We’ll see,” he says, swallowing hard, then turning from me.”

“We’ll see?” I know my voice is stretched thin, but seriously? I know I’m not everything Landon wants, but I don’t want him to get cold with me just because I can’t say those three all-important words back to him.

“No, you’re right, let’s just get dressed. I kinda feel worn out.” He turns to the closet and begins rooting for something to wear.

“Don’t be mad,” I tell him, watching him pull on pants and a button-down shirt. I’m still in the towel.

He snorts.

“Don’t, Landon. Don’t be mad at me because I can’t tell you I love you. That’s not fair.”

“I’m not mad. I’m just scared.”

“Scared of what?”

He turns to me, his face raw with the emotion of the day. “Scared I’m going to lose something I never had. Scared it took too fucking long to figure out what that was.”

He walks to the bathroom, and shuts the door on me.

I type a quick message for Emmy.
Sorry. We’re just running late. Feeling a little overwhelmed with this whole thing. I think we’re having our first fight. Xo

It’s the most honest I’ve maybe ever been with her.

And the thing is, it isn’t Emmy I want to tell my whole heart to.

I want to tell Landon.
I want Landon.

But I’m scared, too. Scared in ways he isn’t. I’ve been rejected before.

Been hurt.

Been ruined.

And it’s taken me five years to become normal again.

I can’t let that happen a second time.

* * *

Dinner is a long, drawn-out English affair. Ace, Emmy, and Tess have joined us, and their presence helps lighten the mood considerably.

Geoffrey has seemingly spent the afternoon coming around to his own double wedding in a week. He says, over the salad course, that one positive of a quick wedding is that it will happen before the company announces bankruptcy, so at least the event won’t be marred with the impending disaster.

“When do you plan on announcing it?” Ace asks.

“We want to wait as long as possible,’ Dad says. “I want to give everyone the severance they deserve. Or at least plenty of time to find other work before the stores close for good.”

Geoffrey huffs. “Dad, you can’t give severance when there’s a bankruptcy. I’ve explained this. Everyone just gets what we can salvage in a final paycheck, and we cut our losses.”

Mum and Dad look at one another across the table, as the realization of what losing this company means seems to sweep over them.

I’m starting to think Geoffrey might be right. Mum and Dad really have no idea what declaring bankruptcy means.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Mum says. “There are some employees, all over the world, who have been with us for decades.”

“How many storefronts are there?” Emmy asks. “Sorry, I don’t know much about business, but I’m curious.”

“There are twenty-five stores and around two thousand employees.” Geoffrey shrugs. “It’s a massive company. Granted, Tiffany’s has three times as many storefronts and employees, but they’ve cheapened their brand over the years. The King’s Diamond has remained the highest class store in the world.”

Dad clasps his hands and exhales loudly; clearly Geoffrey’s words have struck a familiar chord. “The world told Tiffany’s what they wanted. Cheaper and faster. Less quality. They want to pick out an engagement ring on the Internet and drop it into a virtual shopping cart. Geoffrey decided to follow suit.”

“We’re not fighting again at this meal,” Mum says, shaking her head. “Enough.”

The table goes silent, everyone seeming to absorb Mum’s words.

Finally, Geoffrey speaks. “Sorry, Mum,” he apologizes, dropping his head, as if the literal weight of this conversation is too much. “I’m sorry for mentioning it here. I know how hard this is.”

I have a sudden flash of memory—of when I voluntarily left for rehab. Geoffrey was in the car with Dad and me, shaking his head as the car stopped. As I got out of the car in the lonely countryside where the clinic was situated, I felt like such a fucking asshole.

And I remember the way Geoffrey shook his head that day, like I was such a fuck-up he couldn’t even look at me.

But now I wonder if I read that whole exchange wrong. What if he was saving me from more shame by dropping
his
eyes.

The same way he’s been trying to salvage Dad’s company. The same way he called me in Vegas a week ago, demanding I let Mum know for certain if I wasn’t coming. Maybe he didn’t call to be an ass; maybe he called to preserve something for Mum. Protect her, because he knew how much me not showing up would hurt her.

I watch him now, head bowed, reaching for Fiona’s hand across the table.

I don’t understand my family at all. Probably because I haven’t been around often enough to learn anything about them.

But as Fiona smiles tightly, her hand in my brothers, it’s as if I literally feel something pass between the two of them.

Maybe there’s a reason—other than being a complete prick—that Geoffrey hasn’t proposed for a decade. Maybe there’s a whole lot I have no fucking clue about.

“Everything okay?” Claire asks.

“I just need some fresh air.” I stand, dropping my napkin, not having an appetite anyway. “Just give me a minute.”

I leave the table and practically run outside. Memories stir inside me: me leaving home the first time, the second, the tenth, the twelfth, the twentieth. Always me leaving. Always Geoffrey staying.

I feel like an ass.

Worse than an ass, I feel like a fuck-up and a fool.

I don’t want to talk to Geoffrey, but I know I need to.

I start down the driveway, not having a clue where I’m going, just knowing I need to get out of the house filled with people I’ve let down, that I’m not good enough for.

Dad. Mum. Geoffrey. Claire.

Claire
.

“Fuck,” I shout into the void of the dark sky. I’ve spent so long being this player in Vegas that I’ve forgotten who I am.

“You okay, there?” Geoffrey asks, running to catch up with me.

“Really?” I ask. “After all this time, now you come after me?”

“Fuck you,” Geoffrey says, shooting straight. “You’ve never wanted me around; I can take a fucking hint.”

I stop at the end of the driveway. The road forks to the left or right, and I have no idea where to go. Turning to Geoffrey, I ask the first thing that pops into my mind.

“Why are you marrying Fiona?”

“Because I love her?”

“Is that a question for me?”

“Of course not.” Geoffrey scowls under the light of the streetlamp at the end of the drive. “I
do
love her.”

“Why now, though, do you propose? After I show up engaged.”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you.”

“Too bad. You followed me out here, obviously you have something you want to discuss. Let’s start with this.”

“I haven’t asked sooner because the truth is ... I wanted to be more situated before I proposed.”

“You, more situated? What the fuck does that mean? You’ve worked for Dad for years. Surely you have a house and a boatload of cash.”

He shrugs. “It’s stupid, but I always said I wanted to make ten million dollars, on my own, before I got married. I wanted to give Fiona the absolute best start to life she could imagine. So I’ve been taking my time. I’m not even thirty; it’s not like I’ve kept her waiting forever.”

I stare at him, incredulous. I always assumed he hadn’t married her because he was an asshole.

“So what made you change your mind?” I ask. “Why now, when things are financially more rocky and insecure than they’ve ever been?”

“Because of something you said the first night you were here, when Mum asked why you proposed so soon. You said,
I know it’s fast, but I couldn’t wait another moment.
It made me realize I was being an ass.”

“And also caused you to go look up dirt on Claire,” I say dryly. “Which really was an asshole move, Geoffrey.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was smart. I was looking out for Mum and Dad. All I ever do is look after Mum and Dad, while you’re off fucking waitresses.”

“Don’t talk about Claire like that,” I tell him, up in his face in a second.

“I’m not talking about Claire. I’m talking about your last decade. But you know what? I’m glad you came this week, because it gave me the balls to propose to Fiona, finally. Am I terrified? Hell, yeah. Is it how I imagined? No. I may never have ten million dollars in a bank account, but I do have Fiona. And I don’t want to lose her because I’m obsessed with a plan.”

The space between us goes quiet.

“Sorry for not being around for so long,” I manage to get out, feeling choked up, which I know is completely bollocks. Bad boy aren’t supposed to fucking cry, but here I am on the brink of tears.

“I’m used to it. I do the heavy lifting; you show up and make Mum and Dad happy. We all have our roles.”