Queen of Men (King Maker 2)

“Where are Vi and Steven?” I asked.

Turner, still guiding me down the road, answered, “They went ahead.”

He wasn’t carrying the bags, so I assumed they had them.

“We don’t have to stay long,” Turner said. “We’ll have a few drinks and play some cards, and then I’ll take you back to my place.”

I nodded, knowing what would happen there. And why not? Kalen had moved on. Turner was here.

We made it back to Violet’s house, and soon my despair was gone along with one of the two bottles of wine. Steven turned out to be kind of funny.

Violet was doing a happy dance after winning the last hand. “Drink up, guys,” she announced after she finished her twirl with hands waving in the air.

In place of liquor, we were doing shots of beer or wine according to a game Steven taught us. The wine was really sweet, and I found I didn’t mind drinking it at all. The second bottle of wine was half-empty. Violet was so cute drunk. She probably hadn’t been drunk a day in her life.

“Let’s play truth or dare,” Violet said.

There was something enticing about the idea.

“Okay. Your turn,” I pronounced as I stared at her mysterious husband.

“Ask away,” Steven dared.

I took it to mean he’d chosen truth. Fine by me.

“Why are you here?”

He held my gaze as he answered, “Probably for the same reasons you are.”

I almost blurted I was running away, but caught myself. Though it was true, it wasn’t how I wanted things for Turner and me to start.

“My turn,” Steven said as I stared at him.

He’d answered before like he was certain of my answer. What was he running from?

“Turner,” Steven said, “have you told Bailey of your plans?”

My head snapped in Turner’s direction. The fact that Steven hadn’t given Turner the option of truth or dare was forgotten. Now I just wanted to know the answer to the question Steven posed, reminding me of his conversation with Violet that morning.

“Plans?”

Turner moved faster than my sluggish brain could make out. Arms snaked around my waist as he whispered into my ear, “I’ll tell you later.”

“I like where his head’s at,” Steven said. “Come on, wife. I need that pretty mouth of yours.”

Footsteps receded as Turner scooped me up. Automatically, I wrapped my legs around his waist and let him carry me off.

“I need you,” he said and I nodded.

As he walked the few feet to the tiny bedroom on the opposite side of the house that I’d been using, two pairs of eyes filled my head. Kalen and Margaret.

My vision, which had been muddled, cleared up a bit. I leaned back to stare into Turner’s big brown eyes and asked the question that knotted my belly. “Have you slept with Margaret?”

Though I had no right to ask, his answer mattered. In that moment, I very much knew how she’d feel if she knew what was about to happen.

“Now is not the time,” he said, untangling my legs and setting me on my feet.

“Was she better than me?” I asked, looking up, wanting not to read into his non-answer. My voice sounded like a small child in need of approval. It was like having an out-of-body experience. I could see the train wreck coming, but I couldn’t stop it.

Turner pulled me close. “No one’s better than you,” he said softly.

The door was still open. I could tell him to go and sleep off the hurricane of emotions I felt.

Instead, my mouth spoke without direction from my brain. “Be honest. Does she have a claim on you?”

Because the words had spilled out of me, they were of the old ways. I needed to know if Turner had officially courted Margaret like Mary said or was that what Margaret wanted.

“Only one woman has ever held claim over me, and that is you.”

Actions spoke louder than any words. So I closed the door and walked over to the bed in invitation.

Some part of me knew this act would break the final bond I felt toward Kalen. And maybe that was a little unfair. But Turner had to be the one, didn’t he? He’d never let me down, not once. I would be stupid not to see the light when it was such a beacon in front of me.

When he moved toward me, I tried not to let any part of me remember Kalen’s touch as Turner worked the buttons on my dress. If he only knew how many levels he was freeing me by just being him.

As my dress fell, he sank once again to his knees and waited. This time there was no hesitation on my part. I nodded, giving him the approval he sought.

Then with my dress but a puddle around me, his hands warmed my thighs as they skimmed up them, reaching my covered center. He didn’t waste time with the removal of that garment as he trailed kisses in the wake of his hands from my thighs until his tongue danced toward the seam of my underwear. I felt the shift of the scrap of fabric to the side a second before my stomach lurched.