Money Man (King Maker 1)

I jammed my fork into the gooey goodness, not sure what else to say or do.

He sat with the visible evidence of his arousal poking at the front of his slacks. I almost felt bad I’d gotten off and he hadn’t. He lifted a hand and studied his watch as if he’d gotten a notification of some kind.

“I have to go,” he said, lifting a finger in the air. Seconds later, the head waiter came bustling in, lending credence to there being cameras. Kalen’s eyes twinkled as if he guessed what I was thinking. Heat rose in my cheeks, knowing we had been watched from beginning to end.

“Please wrap up dessert,” he said to the guy, who took our plates without any preamble.

“So that’s it,” I said, feeling petulant.

“Time isn’t something I have an abundance of. You were late, wearing pants and making fucking whatever this is out of us impossible. At least not tonight.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the waiter was back in record time with a bag that looked more like something they’d use at an expensive boutique and not a to-go bag.

“Charge the card on file,” Kalen said.

The waiter nodded and disappeared. In that time, Kalen was up and helping me out of my chair.

“My driver will get you home,” he said, ushering me out of the room.

If I thought he was riding with me, I was mistaken. He helped me into a luxury SUV, then handed me the bag with our uneaten dessert.

“Another time, Miss Glicks.”

I sat dumbfounded as he closed the door and said something to the driver. How did he know my last name? Then I watched him get keys from a valet. But I didn’t see the car he would get into as the driver asked, “Where am I taking you?”

He’d spoken in the same lyrical accent Kalen did, diverting my attention long enough for me to rattle off my address. By the time I looked back, Kalen was gone.

I was left to wonder what the hell had just happened.

Eight

“So,” Lizzy said when I walked in the door. She was lounging on her favorite chair as usual. “How’d it go with Mr. Big Dick Shagger?”

I gaped. “How did you know he has a big dick?”

I didn’t remember specifically mentioning that to her.

“Honey, the way you were walking yesterday, his stick had to be big.”

Leave it to Lizzy to make me laugh when my life felt like it was spiraling out of control. She covered her mouth as we both giggled.

“Am I right or what?” she asked.

“Okay, fine. He’s big, though I didn’t actually see it.”

I’d seen the outline through his pants and that was proof enough.

“Definitely fate. Are you going to screw him again?” she asked eagerly.

“Lizzy,” I admonished.

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud. If anyone deserves guilt-free sex, it’s you.”

I couldn’t help but think about how I should have been a married woman living in the apartment Scott bought for us in a luxury high-rise on the Upper East Side.

“Tell me you’re not thinking about that asshole.”

I met her gaze. “How can I not?”

She lifted one finger. “First, he never deserved you. Second, he’s like every other rich self-important asshole out there. They want a virginal wife but a whore as a mistress. That’s why I don’t date those assholes.”

Scott hadn’t exactly been rich like Lizzy’s family. But he’d never wanted for anything.

“Maybe if I’d been better in bed—”

She cut me off. “Don’t you go there. It’s not your fault.”

“But maybe—”

She shook her head. “No, Bails. He’s at fault.”

“Remember, he said I was boring.”

I couldn’t quite get over that.

“Boring,” she repeated murderously. “He blamed you for him cheating because you were boring in bed. That was something he would have figured out a couple of years ago. He’s just using that as an excuse.”

“Maybe.” Unfortunately, I lacked the confidence she had.

I woke up feeling like I was still caught in my dream. My back felt very warm, and there was a hard mass pressed against the crevice of my ass. When I shifted a little, prepared to get up to see what was behind me, a hand gripped my thigh and a warm breath of air caressed my neck.

What the hell? Had I let Kalen come home with me last night? No, I hadn’t. Freaked out, I shot out of bed, stumbling to my feet. Looking back, I recognized that wavy blond hair and penetrating blue eyes.

“Matt, what the hell are you doing?” I said exasperatedly.

With dimples showing, he smiled at me lazily. “Come back to bed, peanut.”

Jaw dropped, I stared at him. “Why are you in my bed?”

Technically, it wasn’t my bed.

“This is my room,” he said with a smirk.

Though he lived in Chicago, he and his sister owned the apartment together.

“You don’t live here,” I spouted back and crossed my arms over my chest.