I could see a huge kitchen through a large pass-thru window by the bar, and then my eyes landed on the small, raised stage in the far corner of the room, with several leather couches and chairs surrounding it. I studied it for a second, trying tofigure out why on earth they had a stage here. My eyes widened in disbelief as I realized it had a stripper pole on it. Well, shit. That was…different.
Movement out of the corner of my eye had me turning back toward the bar, and I saw Lincoln. He smiled and gave me a head nod, then set down the case of beer he had been carrying.
“Hey, Ella,” he greeted me.
“Hi, Linc. I’m meeting King here for lunch.”
“Yeah, he told me to expect you. The food was just delivered, and he wanted to set up in his office today instead of the common room. I’ll show you where that is.”
He came around the corner of the bar and crossed the large room, so I followed as he led me down the hallway I’d noticed by the front door. We turned a corner, and he stopped as one of the men who’d been sitting in the common room hollered for him. He grimaced, pointing toward the end of the hall, where light spilled out from a partially opened door.
“Right down there, last door on the left,” he instructed before turning and jogging back down the hall to see what the man needed.
I passed three other office doors, all closed, with signs indicating they belonged to the secretary, treasurer, and VP. I heard the low rumble of King’s voice saying, “I don’t have time for this shit right now,” followed by “What the fuck are you doing?”.
He sounded aggravated, and I paused, not wanting to disturb him if he was on the phone or something. Hearing nothing else, I stepped forward and poked my head around the door, intending to quietly let him know I was here.
In hindsight, I probably should have knocked.
King was indeed planning to eat at his desk. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure if his lunch was meant to be the food in front of him, or the almost nude woman perched on the corner of his desk, with her legs spread wide.
I couldn’t help the shocked gasp that escaped me, and King’s head whipped up to see me standing in his doorway. He stood up so quickly that his desk chair rolled back and slammed into the wall behind him. The blonde was so startled by his abrupt movement that she wobbled on her precarious perch, and King reached out a hand to grab her arm before she could fall.
I gaped at the scene in front of me as King let go of the woman so quickly it seemed as if his skin had been seared merely by touching her arm.
“King,” the woman whined, and my eyes boggled as she turned toward me. It was Star, the woman from yesterday, and she was wearing even less than she’d worn then. Calling it a bikini would be generous.
The top consisted of strings holding two pink triangles in place – triangles that were literally too small to conceal her areolas, which I noticed idly were dusky pink. I’d already been treated to the sight of her bare ass cheeks, separated by a tiny string that formed the back of her thong. Unfortunately, the front of the thong wasn’t much wider. It was so narrow, in fact, that her exposed pussy lips – waxed bare, of course – hung out of either side of the miniscule piece of material. It wasn’t a camel toe, exactly. It was more like a massive pussy wedgie, which I hadn’t realized was a thing until that very moment. It looked supremely uncomfortable, which may have accounted for the bitchy expression on her face.
I gave a nervous, uncontrollable giggle at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, and King pushed past her to reach for me. I took a step back into the hallway, and he turned to glare at her over his shoulder.
“I told you I didn’t have time for your shit. I’ll deal with you later,” he told her angrily.
He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me aside as she stomped out of the office in a huff.
I watched as she stalked down the hall on heels so high I felt like my ankles would sprain just looking at them and was momentarily jealous of the fact that her ass was so small, with nary a jiggle in sight.
“I’m sorry about that, sugar,” he growled in my ear, “I don’t know what the hell her problem is.”
I knew. She wanted King, and she wanted me gone. How he could be completely oblivious to that was a mystery to me.
King stepped back and guided me back inside his office, where I gingerly sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk, settling my purse on my lap. He made his way around to his seat, then caught me eyeing the corner of the desk in distaste. I could only imagine the germs she’d left behind.
He dropped his head and sighed in resignation, then scooped up the take-out containers and shoved them in the paper bag near his computer monitor.
“Let’s go sit somewhere else,” he muttered, and I followed him without a word as he headed down the hall and started up the staircase I’d noticed when I first came in. At the top of the stairs, he stopped at the first door off the landing, then punched a code into the keypad by the doorknob. He swept openthe door, then reached in to turn on the light before gesturing me inside.
I hesitantly entered what was clearly a bedroom, with a king-sized bed and two nightstands dominating one wall, and a leather loveseat on the other, underneath a window. There was a small table and two chairs tucked in an alcove, next to what I assumed was a closet, with a chest of drawers rounding out the furniture. A flat screen TV was mounted on the wall, so that it would be visible from both the loveseat and the bed. As King crossed to the alcove and put the food on the table, I saw an open door leading to what appeared to be a decently sized attached bathroom.
I took a deep breath, recognizing the scent of King’s woody cologne, and realized this must be the bedroom he kept at the club. I eyed the bed, wondering how many women had graced that mattress over the years. Dozens, certainly. Maybe hundreds. Then I chided myself, because his past wasn’t my business, especially since we weren’t even an actual couple.
“Have a seat, El. I promise, no asses have been on this table, half-naked or otherwise,” he joked.
He sat down at the table, and I took the seat across from him.
“Look,” he said with a sigh, “I’m sorry about her. Star is one of the club bunnies. They’re women who –“
I held up my hand to stop him. “I’ve heard all about the club bunnies. More than enough, actually.” My conversation with Cowboy’s girlfriend, Michelle, had been enlightening, to say the least.
