Twist of Fate (Kings of Chaos 6)

“I don’t like the way this is sounding, pumpkin.”

“You probably won’t like the rest I have to say either.”

He sighs. “Are you pregnant?”

“What?” I cry.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Why would you even ask that?”

“You’ve been different lately ... moody, and not yourself.”

“Hah. I’m impressed you even noticed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

I sigh. “Just come over, Dad. We have a lot of things to discuss.”

“Fine. I’ll head over that way now.”

The final showdown is about to begin. At least it’ll be on my turf. Returning to the home where I grew up would’ve put me in the wrong head space for this talk. I need all the advantages I can get.

“Is your Dad on his way over here right now?”

I turn to face him and shove my hands into the pockets of my long black skirt. “He is, and I’d like you to stay.”

“This is your family. We can handle it however you want. I refuse to pretend we aren’t seeing each other. The omission is okay. Lying is a problem. Unless you’re ashamed of seeing me.”

“I never said that.”

“No, but I’m pretty damn sure I don’t fit your father’s dating criteria.”

Pushing away from the sink, I go over to fix the collar of his button down T-shirt. “Good thing you’re dating me and not him then, huh?” I tilt my head back and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You trying to distract me?” he asks against my lips.

“Trying to draw strength.” I nip his bottom lip and tug.

He growls. “Your Dad is on his way.”

“Then I guess you’d better make it quick.”

He lifts me up, and I squeal as I wrap my legs around his waist as he stumbles to the wall. Our lips move together while I sink my hands into his thick hair. I tilt my head, thrusting my tongue into his mouth as I sample everything he has to offer. My heart is pounding in my chest, and my panties are damp. All he has to do is use that certain tone, and I’m aching and needy. He has my body trained with his every touch, command, and request. I never thought I’d be into that kind of play, but with him, it works.

He shoves my skirt up and pushes my panties to the side. “So wet for me.”

“I’m always dripping when you’re around.” Propping me against the wall, he quickly removes his belt. With his pants around his thighs, he thrusts home.

I arch my back, digging my nails into his shoulders through his shirt, and we move together. I’m feeling the threat of being caught and the need for release and the feeling of freedom. Flexing my muscles, I contract around him as he stretches and fills me—physically, mentally and spiritually. Suddenly realizing how deep my emotions for him run, I explode around.

He follows shortly after, flooding me with warmth. Too full to speak, I bury my face in his neck, inhaling his musky ocean breeze scent as I cling to him. He smells like wind, sun, and man. I lower my shaky legs, and he tugs on my earlobe, fanning the flames of last minute aftershocks. I moan, wishing we had time for round two.

“We should clean up.”

He cages me in with arms on either side of my face. “You’re going to keep all that in like a good girl as a reminder. No matter where you are or who you’re with, you belong to me.”

“Oh, God.”