The Arrogant Architect (6 page)

Looking out the window, I think back to tonight and sitting
on that rock in his arms– it was so nice. For the first time in years, I had
someone to turn to when I was in pain. It wasn’t everyone depending on me. He
was there for me and comforted me and didn’t expect me to get over it because
it’s been almost six years. It’s sad how quick-forgetting some people are when
it comes to grief. After losing my mom, everyone I was close to didn’t have the
patience for me. I can sense the people I work with are that way too– when I
have a bad day, they don’t get it. It’s not like that with my dad…but we hide
our pain from one another to try to help each other move on. But being with
King tonight was different. It was nice to be myself and let my emotions go
where they needed.

He comes walking out of the store carrying two bags, and
there I go undressing him with my eyes. His cock bulge is straining his shorts
and I shake the thought away. What is wrong with me? A few days ago, I detested
him, and now…I’m looking at his dick.

He slides in the car and hands me a bag. “I didn’t know what
you liked, so I got one of everything.”

I look inside and there is an array of tiny liquor bottles.
Every kind you could think of. “You know I was joking, right?”

“Were you?” he starts the car and pulls away, dead serious.

“Yes.”

“You’ve gotta stop doing that to me.”

Opening a bottle of 99 Bananas, I tell him, “If you really
want to buy me something, you
can
buy me my own restaurant.” As I slam
the bottle, he looks over at my lips wrapped around it and says, “Don’t fuck
with me.”

I smirk, digging through the bag. I find another bottle and
crack it open sipping on it as we pull up to my apartment. Like the gentleman I
never knew he was, he opens my door and helps me out, or maybe it’s him being
controlling. With liquor coursing through my veins, I really don’t care.
Carrying my camel pack and goody bag of liquor upstairs, we both go inside. He
sets my stuff down on the kitchen island, and the box with the exorbitantly
expensive dress is still sitting there and he ignores it, like it’s…nothing.

“Thank you for going out with me tonight, Ever.” He cups my
face. The shooters running through me are making me feel very brave as I nod my
head, waiting for him to do whatever he wants.

Closing my eyes, he brushes his thumb over my lips and then
pulls me against his chest. I hold onto him, like he’s the answer to all my
problems. But he lets me go, grabbing his bag and coat off the chair. “Enjoy
sleeping in tomorrow.”

“No noise?” I ask, still trying to catch my breath.

“Nope.”

He closes the door and like that is gone. Hours ago, I was
not looking forward to tonight, and now, I want to go back to the beginning.
Locking my door, I grab another mini bottle and take the dress with me as I
schlep to my bedroom.

Tossing the box down, I slam the shot and lift the lid,
pulling out the amazingly gorgeous, black satin and lace number. I’ve never
seen anything like it –it looks like it’s straight out of a London fashion
show. Getting undressed, I slip it on, and it fits like a glove. Grabbing my
phone, I snap a picture of myself in the reflection of the mirror. Realizing
the second that I send it to King I am naked underneath and this is not the best
covering dress. If I zoom in on the picture, I can see the outline of my
breasts.

Mmm, I like it a lot. Fits perfectly.

I’m not sure what to say. How do I respond? What am I even
doing or thinking? Leaving my bedroom, I grab a few more shooters as the room
begins to spin and sink down into my couch.

Send me another one?

NO.

Please?

Sticking my tongue out at him, I hold my phone above my face
and snap the photo, then send it.

You’re gorgeous

King, Stop it, I just stuck my tongue out at you.

And I got hard looking at the picture.

Slamming another shot, I set my phone down, knowing that I
am drunk and I am most likely going to do or say something that I’ll regret
tomorrow. He’s fucking hard over me. Slinging my arm over my eyes, I ignore the
insistent beeps of my phone. He’ll stop…he has to.

“All right, all right, all right.” I shout. The banging on
my front door is so loud that I feel like I’m being swallowed up whole by the
noise.

As I open the door, I can see immediately my dad is
panicked. I’m still wobbly and half drunk. He looks at me and I ask him,
“What’s going on?”

“You didn’t meet me for breakfast, and you’re not answering
your phone.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Dad, but everything is fine,” I
tell him and hug him, hating how worried sick he is. “Why didn’t you use your
key to come in?”

“I left it at home. I didn’t know this was gonna happen.
Then when you didn’t show and wouldn’t answer your phone, I panicked.”

“Well, I’m fine. I’m sorry you had to drive all the way out
here. I need coffee and a shower, but I’m good.”

He smiles, now knowing that everything is okay and asks me,
“What are you wearing?”

I look down at myself and wonder the same thing. Then I
remember King’s text. Oh fuck, I made him hard. “Could you make some coffee,
Dad? I’m gonna shower. I drank a little too much last night.”

Grabbing my phone off the table, I stumble into my bathroom
and start the shower. Staring at the screen, before I open any messages there
are seven missed texts from King and five calls from my dad. Looking at the
texts, I get so embarrassed I could hide in the corner of my bathroom forever.

One more?

Please?

Then he texted me back a zoomed in picture of the dress and
says,
I can see your nipples.

They’re hard.

Goddammit, Ever, I fucking want you.

I guess I’m going to bed with blue balls…sleep well,
gorgeous.

Sliding out of the dress, I step into the shower and want to
scream as the water cascades around me. It’s been so long since I’ve had a guy
talk to me like that, or even look in my direction, and now all of sudden this
sexy and successful man…likes me. I have to text him back…but I’m so
embarrassed for what I did last night. I’m not even sure what to say to him.

After I shower and get dressed in a comfy pair of jean
shorts and a white t-shirt, I let my hair air dry and find my dad holding onto
one of the framed letters that my mom wrote to me. “You know, this was my
favorite one.”

“Yeah?” I ask, taking a sip of the coffee he has set out for
me.

“Yeah. When I read it, I can hear her voice clear as day.”

“Me too. Hey, sorry about this morning,” I tell him, knowing
a good distraction technique works to reel him back in from the pain of being
without her.

“It’s all right. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Always, Dad.”

“I saw your collection of shooters, should I be worried?”

I laugh out loud and look at the bag King bought me. “No,
nothing to be worried about. A friend bought it for me being funny.”

“Was it that girl from work?”

“No, that guy who bought the building next door.”

“I thought you didn’t like him?”

“I don’t, but it’s a long story.” He can sense I’m holding
back, so I fill him in on almost everything.

“He doesn’t sound bad to me.”

“Dad, he’s nuts. He bought this building and...”

“And he saved you from moving. He also spent what did you
say…thirty thousand dollars on three other bikes?” I nod. “Ever, you’ve gotta
give him a chance. Now you don’t have to move, you can unpack all of your
stuff.”

Looking for anything wrong with him I tell my dad, “Well,
don’t forget he got me kicked out of work on my birthday.”
“No, Ever, you lost your temper with him and got yourself in trouble.”

“Why are you sticking up for him, Dad?”

“Let’s just say when I met your mother I did some crazy
things myself.”

I could never imagine my father doing anything crazy, so to
hear him say that comes as a shock. “What did you do, Dad?”

“I went to her house every night and threw tiny little
pebbles at her window until she agreed to go out with me.”

“That’s not crazy.”

“And then when she broke up with me, I sat on her porch all
night long.”

“Okay, Dad. I get the point.” I put the framed letter on the
table where it usually sits, knowing what he is trying to tell me. Maybe what
King has been doing hasn’t been that bizarre. Maybe, it’s been me pushing him
away that has made everything seem that much worse.

_____

Walking around the antique street market with my dad, he’s
like a kid in a candy store. Everything is so interesting to him. As I watch
him barter for an old fan, broken and missing pieces, I can’t help but smile.
He gives me a grin when he makes the deal, and it’s because those are the ones
he loves the most. The really broken pieces that only he can fix.

He walks back over to me and says, “Can you believe I got
this for thirty-seven dollars?”

‘That’s great, Dad.” The sun is exhausting and I need to
eat. Hangovers are such a bitch. Checking the time on my phone, there are still
no messages from King. I still need to text him and I will…later. Sliding my
phone into my back pocket, suddenly his scent invades me, followed by his
warmth as his body shrouds mine, awakening my senses as he stands behind me and
whispers into my ear, “You owe me a text.”

“I’m aware.” I turn around, his body brushing up against
mine.

He takes his sunglasses, lifting them up as he tries to read
me. “Let me see your eyes.” I smirk and lift my shades. “There you go…getting
me hard again,” he says through gritted teeth.

I swallow as my dad calls over his shoulder, “Could you use
this, Ever?”

I shake my head and King grins at me, “Do you want to text
me now…or later?”

“Later,” I whisper and my dad comes up looking at the close
interaction between the two of us.

“Dad,” I exclaim, “This is my friend, King, I was telling
you about this morning.”

They shake hands and King looks at someone waving a cuckoo
clock in the air. “Could you guys excuse me? My aunt needs me real quick.”

“Sure.” He walks off and I watch my dad, observing where he
is going. “I’ll be back too,” my dad says and leaves me standing all alone.
Well…I might as well join.

“It’s broken,” my dad declares, standing between King and
his aunt.

“No, it’s not,” the vendor mumbles.

My dad adamantly says, “Show me that it chirps on anything
other than one o’clock.”

“If you don’t want it, don’t buy it.”

“Do you want it?” my dad asks King’s aunt.

“Not if it’s broken like you say.”

“I can fix it for you, if you like it.”

“Then, I want it.” They argue with the vendor again and I
wander off, spotting an antique skillet out of the corner of my eye. 

“How much?” I ask the lady, holding the heavy cast iron pan
in my grip. There’s something about old cookware that I love. It paints such a
beautiful story. If only it could talk about all of the meals it’s made and the
people it’s served.

“Six hundred dollars,” the woman says and politely I set it
down.

“We’ll take it,” King announces and counts six hundreds out
of a stack of cash.

“No way,” I shout.

“Don’t start with me,” he says and reaches over my head
handing the woman the money as she wraps the pan in tissue paper and then bags
it. “Have a good day,” he says taking it from her and handing it to me.

“You can’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“You can’t control me with your money, buying me all these
things whenever you see fit.”

He looks around for his aunt and my dad who are engrossed in
the finds of another tent, and then he drags me behind a SUV, pressing me hard
against the hot exterior of the car. I stand frozen, not sure what to do as he
pushes himself against me and says, “Don’t you see who’s controlling who here?
It’s you…you’ve got the fuckin’ power over me.” His voice is laced with
passion. His cock throbs against my clit as he touches my lips again with his
soft fingers. Our foreheads are resting against each other’s and I want him to
kiss me, to do something…anything. But he doesn’t make any other moves except
for closing his eyes. I realize then that I am holding onto his sides, and I
gently trail my fingers over his muscled skin.

“Mmm,” he growls like an animal, ready to be unleashed from
its cage.

“There you two are,” my dad exclaims and we quickly
separate. My face beet red, but my dad doesn’t seem to care. “We were gonna
grab a bite to eat, do you guys wanna join us?”

“Yeah,” I answer, knowing I need to eat and to be around
other people than alone with King. But who’s “we”? King’s aunt? They seem to
have made an instant connection.

I don’t make it a few steps and King pulls me backwards.

“Stop it, my dad already caught us and I haven’t even met
your aunt yet.”

“No, you stop it. Don’t you see what you’re doing to me?” He
looks down and my eyes follow to his very apparent strained dick. I squeeze my
thighs, trying to restrain myself from touching him as I swallow.

“Goddammit, Ever, would you try and stop being so fucking
sexy?”

“What am I doing?”

“Clenching your thighs and swallowing.” He’s breathing hard,
obviously struggling, and I cannot believe the power I have over him. Is this
how it’s been all along? Is this why he’s been so aggressive?

“Well, you’re going to have to man up.” I grab his hand and
walk in the direction that my dad went. He follows along, still holding the
paper bag that has my skillet in it and my hand. 

“My fuckin’ balls feel like they’re going to explode,” he
says through clenched teeth as I search for our family members.

“Then think about work or something.”

“Sure, that’ll help, because currently I work right next
door to you.”

I spot my dad and his aunt. Waving to them, I let go of his
hand and make my way through the crowd. I can sense that King is close behind
me, and in the mix of all the people, he takes my hand back in his. I look over
my shoulder at him, so tall and sexy, mixed in a crowd of people, with his eyes
only on me.

Glancing down, I see his cock is no longer hard and I smile.

“Don’t,” he grumbles and I tell him, “You sure say that a
lot.”

“This is her?” King’s aunt asks as King and I stop in front
of them.

“Yes, Aunt Galinda, this is Ever.”

“It’s great to meet you.” I shake her hand with my free one.

“Same to you.”

“Gerry was telling me about this little café around the
block, if you guys feel like trying it.”

I know exactly where she is talking about and I’m sure King
will hate it. So, I figure he can slum it with us normal folk and enjoy
watching my dad and I eat their ninety-nine cent breakfast which they serve all
day. I can tell right away that Galinda won’t mind, she’s very old school,
nothing like King at all.

“I think King would love it there.”

“Really?” he asks.

“Oh yeah, it’s in such a cool building.”

As we walk, his hand is still wound around mine and it feels
so natural. Yeah, he might be this rich, cocky…no, arrogant, guy. But deep
down, beneath the façade, there is much more to him. Like, him spending a
Saturday with his Aunt, he seemingly only wants to make her happy. Beneath it
all, I think he really has a good side, that slowly I am discovering each time
we are together, finding out more and more about who the real King is.

“Are you kidding me?”

“What?” I ask innocently as we walk into the old-school
diner. It’s totally more of a dive than anything and certainly not a café. It
needs a total renovation.

“Why would you think I’d like it here?”

“Come on, give the food a chance.”

A waitress walks by us as we wait at the door to be seated
with a huge tray of the greasy mess they serve, and King leans down whispering
in my ear. “You’re so gonna pay for this later.”

“What? You gonna spank me?” I tease him, pulling my
sunglasses up on the top of my hair

“No.” He brushes the hair off my neck and whispers into my
ear, “I’m gonna skull fuck you.”

My eyes get wide and a hostess shows us to our table, but I
can barely function as I imagine what that means.

Who would say something like that?

I haven’t even kissed him yet. As we all get situated,
Galinda says, “Isn’t this place so cute, King?”

“Totally!” he sarcastically replies and opens his menu as I
sit, still stunned. The image of myself on my knees with his cock buried in my
throat burns in my brain, and I swallow hard, clenching my thighs. He reaches
down with one hand and pries my legs apart. God, he’s so intuitive to every –
single – little – thing that I do.

I’m so fucked.