I’m not here to be King’s woman. Whatever the hell that even means. Maybe it has a totally different meaning in these parts. A smile flits across my mouth. Tomorrow, I may just lie to him and say that I tried to call my boyfriend but my phone isn’t getting service. I decide that I’m going to do exactly that.
I’m way too excited to see his reaction when he thinks I belong to another man. I should feel bad but I don’t since he was cocky and tried to declare that I was his. I don’t take crap from anyone and this big, giant, no first name King guy isn’t any different.
Chapter Five
King
When Weston comes downstairs the next morning wearing my clothes, I decide that I am an utter genius. “We’ll have to burn all of your clothes.”
“Why’s that?” She frowns.
“Because you won’t be wearing anything that’s not mine anymore. Got a call from Jake and he and your sister should be here this afternoon. What do you want to eat?”
“I’m not hungry and there will be no burning of anything.” She holds up her phone with the charging cord dangling from it. “Do you have a plugin I can use? I need to call my boyfriend.”
My good mood heads straight down the shitter. “Your what?”
I thought we had already cleared the fact that she had no man in her life.
“My boyfriend. He’s an MMA fighter. Very big. Fit.” Her eyes sweep over me and I see a flicker of interest before it disappears. “Toned. Sexy.”
She throws out the one-word adjectives like she’s trying to create a shield against her attraction to me. It’s some real bullshit. I fold my arms across my chest.
“No. There are no chargers in this house.” Absolutely zero for her purpose.
She points to the wall. “Won’t that plugin over there fit?”
I spin out of my chair and snatch the charger out of the wall, throw it on the ground and crush it beneath my boot heel. Whistling tunelessly, I pretend none of that happened and say, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Her nose goes up. “Fine. It’s not like I need it. I still have fifty percent charge on my phone which is more than enough for me to have a sweet conversation with my man.”
I see two options here. Her phone gets destroyed or we go someplace where there’s no cell service. The broken plastic and wires crunch underfoot as I walk toward her. She backs up, holding her phone protectively to her chest. The back of the couch stops her progress.
I lean forward. She leans backward. She feels warm from this distance, like a little radiator that could heat you up during the cold winter nights. She smells good, too. I inhale and catch the faint hint of peaches. A smile flits across my lips. She’s not as immune to me as she pretends to be. Guess her phone is safe. If she has a man, she’ll be breaking up with him because Weston belongs to me.
“Wh-what are you doing?” She stutters.
I’m going to play her bluff. I pluck the phone from her limp grip. “Calling your boyfriend. What’s his number?”
“Ah, well, I don’t know if he’s home right now. He travels a lot for sales.”
“I thought you said he was an MMA fighter.”
“Oh, right, well—” She brushes a nervous hand across her forehead. “He’s selling his services. His fighting services.”
“What’s his name? I watch some MMA. I might have seen him.”
“I highly doubt that!” She says in a high-pitched, anxious tone. The pulse point in her neck flutters wildly. I’d like to press my lips at that very spot and feel her heart beat against my mouth. Soon. That’ll happen very soon.
“Maybe we could search him up on the internet and watch some of his moves so I know what I’m getting into.”
“He’s busy,” she repeats testily.
“Then while your phone is charging, we’ll go and feed the dogs.” I straighten, pulling her upright. Her breasts brush my chest and my dick instantly stands to attention. I can tell by her small gasp and widening eyes that my hard-on does not go unnoticed.
“That’s right, baby,” I tell her. “It doesn’t matter who you have in your little favorites list, the only man in your life from this day on is going to be me.”
I leave her there, bracing herself against the sofa and march over to the utility drawer in the kitchen. Inside there’s a spare adapter. I attach her phone cord and plug it in.
“I thought you said you didn’t have a plugin.”
“Guess I was wrong.” From the hall closet, I find a pair of rubber boots, soft socks and a big down coat that’ll cover her from neck to ankle. I add a couple foot warmers for good measure. “Come over here and get geared up. The dogs are hungry.”