Page 40 of Slay


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Shaking my head, I stood up. I was not disappointed. I would not be. King was not for me. No one was for me. I might still have a husband who would be hell-bent on finding me and possibly killing me.

I started to walk over to the sink when I noticed a glass of water and two white pills on my bedside table. Aspirin. I reached for them and then took the water to wash them down. King had definitely done that.

Okay, so he wasn’t mean. He wasn’t abusive. He was just kinky.

I let out a groan and decided I needed coffee before a shower. Reaching for my shorts, I slid them on. Then, I took my glass and made my way to the kitchen, then stopped when I walked into the room. The coffeepot was full, and there was a plate covered in foil on the table with an empty cup beside it. On top lay a note. I walked over to pick it up.

Take the aspirin, drink all the water, and eat. I only brought over the greasy stuff. It’s best for a hangover.

—K

I might have reread it two more times before placing it beside the plate and taking the foil off. Bacon, biscuit and regular sausage gravy—not the red tomato stuff—a sausage patty, and some cheese grits filled the plate. There was no way I was going to be able to eat all this, but I would eat some of it. He was right. I needed to get food in my stomach. I glanced down at the note again and found myself smiling. Even if he had forced me to leave last night, he’d carried me in, asleep, undressed me, and put me in bed. Then, he went and made sure I had coffee made, food to eat. He had even left me some aspirin.

I took the empty cup and walked over to the coffeepot. None of this mattered. My feeling things for him. Attraction or whatever was pointless. Even if I were into getting tied up and spanked, I was not in any place to have a relationship other than friendship with anyone.

And he knew that.

Once I was seated at the table with my coffee and plate of food, I heard the crunch of gravel that meant someone was driving up. I took my cup and went to look out the window. It was King. He was climbing down from his truck, and I watched as he walked toward the porch. I let out a sigh and waited until he knocked on the door before going to open it.

I smiled at him through the screen door and held up my coffee. “Thanks for this. And everything.”

He opened the screen, and I stepped back for him to come inside. “Figured you might wake up feeling shitty. Thought I’d help out.”

I let out a small laugh, trying hard not to think about the fact that he’d seen me in my panties. My face felt warm regardless, so I turned and walked over to the table.

“It’s been a while since I drank like that,” I admitted, sitting back down in my chair.

“You weren’t a bad drunk. You didn’t even puke on me,” he said, his voice sounding amused.

I lifted my eyes to meet his. “I fell asleep in your truck.”

“Eh, so I had to take off your clothes. Get a look at you in your little pink panties. I’ve been forced to do worse things.”

I bit my lip and dropped my gaze back to my plate. I really hoped he was joking and that seeing me in my panties wasn’t that bad. But I’d been married to a man who complained about my body and how I looked, so I was sensitive about it. Maybe Hill had been right. Maybe my hips were too wide and my thighs were too thick.

“Rumor,” King said, and I looked back up at him, forcing a smile I didn’t feel. “You know I’m joking, right?” he said.

I managed a nod. I had not known he was joking, but he seemed sincere. He wasn’t someone who I thought would point out a female’s flaws to her.

He walked over and pulled out the other kitchen chair, then sat down, never taking his eyes off me. “Something in those eyes of yours is telling me you didn’t.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to this, and now that I had made it completely awkward, I simply stared at him. I had to think of something lighthearted to say or change the subject.

“Fuck,” he muttered, then placed his elbows on the table and leaned toward me. “I looked at you way longer than I should have. I even ran my hand between your thighs. Was that morally grey, yes. But you’re too damn tempting. I held your shorts to my fucking nose so I could smell you. When I finally got home and in the shower, I had to jerk one out, thinking about what I had wanted to do to you, but hadn’t.”

I sucked in air, realizing I had been holding my breath. Oh my God.

He picked up my fork and held it out to me. “I shouldn’t have told you that, but I can’t stand the idea of you thinking I didn’t enjoy the view. Now, eat.”

I reached out and took the fork, not sure I could eat. I was still struggling to take in oxygen properly. If I tried to eat right now, I would probably choke. Since he was watching me, I had no other choice. I gave the biscuit and gravy more attention than necessary as I used my fork to cut a piece off.

“Maeme mentioned you hadn’t been there to do laundry. Thought you might need a ride to the big house. I could take you to exchange your books too.”

I shook my head. “I washed my things in the tub yesterday and hung them out on the clothesline.”

The mention of my books reminded me that Sebastian and I never made it to his library. The margaritas had played a hand in that.

“Seriously? Why didn’t you call me or send me a text?”

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