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King places a kiss against my chin, and a wave of goose bumps runs down my spine.This girl!
"Denielle wears those heels," she points out, and I know what she's getting at. We still haven't talked about my relationship with D. King is aware we're friends, but I feel like I owe her more of an explanation.
"True," I concede, returning her kiss by leaning down and nipping on her neck. "But Den is not the one I want to fuck senseless."
"Fair point." King's response is a blend between a breathy moan and a purr, which makes my erection strain against my jeans.
"What do you say? We skip lunch and go to your place?" I'm blunt as hell, but my balls have taken on a permanently unhealthy tint, and I need to get that remedied sooner rather than later.
She holds my gaze for a moment, her lids already hooded, and her chest is rising rapidly. She peers to the side, where the chicks are now openly talking about us. A devilish smirk turns the corners of her mouth up, and I wrinkle my forehead.
She steps away, and I instantly crave her body against mine again. When she intertwines our fingers and turns in the group's direction, the one in the lead stumbles back. I'm dying to see what's going to happen next.
King guides me down the hall. We're about to pass them when she halts and swivels toward the herd of fake blondes. "Okay, so would you like him to strike a pose, or no? How do you want him?"
Huh?
The girls' perfectly plucked eyebrows draw together in unison, and I have to press my lips together to not laugh out loud at the picture.
The one in the lead props her arms on her hips. "What's that supposed to mean?" Her nasal tone is like nails on a chalkboard. It's my turn to scowl.
King shrugs, then lifts our joined hands. Pointing at them with her free one, she says, "Well, I figured you'd like to take a picture for visual aid when you pretend that it's his fingers touching you when you hide under your pink princess covers tonight."
The lead blonde makes a sound between a gasp and like someone who has accidentally inhaled water through their nose. Another one's jaw hangs down, and a third says, "My duvet is blush, not pink."
I can no longer hold back and double over, having to let go of King's hand.
"No photo, then? Okay, because this is the closest you'll get to my boyfriend. If I catch one of youletter slutsogling him again or calling me a name when it's clear that I can hear you…" She trails off.
"What then?"
Dum-dum is actually challenging my girl.
From my crouched position, desperately attempting to get my side cramps under control, I see King unsheathe her blade, twirling it on her palm.
Gasps ring through the hallway.
"This bitch is psycho."
"Oh my God, why would he hang out with this?"
"Let's go!"
My wheezing laughter has finally subsided, and I straighten. I catch a glimpse of the group rounding the corner down the hall, and I face King.
She studies me impassively, waiting for my reaction.
"Boyfriend?" I smirk.
She shrugs, seemingly not satisfied with my response.
"Was this jealous, knife-wielding-girlfriend performance for them, or was it your attempt to scare me off?"
"Are you scared off?" Her tone is neutral, reminding me of the few times she showed me her other side.
I grin. "Fuck no,girlfriend." I step into her personal space. She retreats until her back hits the wall, but I prowl after her until my large frame swallows her shorter one. With my arms on either side, I lean in. "The only thing you achieved with this show is me getting rock hard, and if it wasn't our first time together, I'd fuck you in the nearest broom closet."
Her eyes bulge before she shoves me away. King takes me by the wrist and drags me out of the building toward the parking lot.
