JAMES: A Night Of The Kings Novel

by Shayne Ford

  “You hurt me,” I say, vocalizing a protest.

  “Get used to it,” he tosses at me without looking at me.

  As we near the crowd, and cut our way back to the house, heads turn, a faint murmuring echoing behind us.

  “You keep your mouth shut,” he barks at me as he pushes me up the stairs and into the mansion.

  “Are you serious?”

  He grills me with his eyes, and I close my mouth. Two men attach to us as soon as we get inside.

  “Keep an eye on her,” he says to Lex and Ed without looking at them either.

  They smoothly flank me as James leaves us behind and joins a group of men. I recognize a judge, the mayor, a group of councilmen, and a couple of bankers.

  “Anything to drink, babe?” Lex asks, running his eyes up and down on me nonchalantly.

  “Oh... Can you be more obvious?” I snark, cocking an eyebrow, and they both chuckle.

  Ed pivots in front of me.

  Our eyes lock, and it’s the first time we find ourself standing in front of each other after we met that night at Red’s. His soft eyes envelop me with a warm gaze. Brown hair swoops over his brow.

  He combs it back with his fingers, his eyes filled with a smile.

  “Where have you been all this time?” he asks.

  “Italy.”

  “Hmm,” he mutters, his gaze moving swiftly down my body. “You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” he purrs, and raises his eyes, a playful smile tilting his lips.

  I glance at Lex, who tucks a hand in his pocket, brings his glass of champagne to his lips and studies me intently.

  “Thank you... I guess...” I say, hesitant and nervous.

  “So, how was life overseas?” Lex asks, throwing me a lifeline.

  I wipe a bead of sweat from my brow.

  “Someone’s really hot,” Ed says, his eyes dipping to my chest.

  I bring my fingers to his face and tip his chin up.

  “Don’t do this, babe...” he murmurs, taking my hand, and pressing his lips on my fingertips.

  More sweat forms on the back of my neck.

  Lex sets his glass on the table, inches to me, and stops behind my back. He slides his hand under my hair, lifts it up and blows softly, cooling my skin.

  Goosebumps drape over my shoulders.

  “Is this better?” Lex whispers in my ear, his lips grazing my skin, making me hotter than before.

  I have no idea what he means by better.

  “Mm-hmm...” I murmur.

  In front of me, Ed observes us, his lips curving into a slow smile as he takes in my reaction.

  He’s still holding my hand, his fingers gently rubbing the inside of my palm.

  “I don’t think I’m cooling off,” I say quietly.

  “Get your hands off her,” James barks, grabbing their necks, pulling them away from me.

  A grin beams on his face. He looks at them, content.

  “We’ve got a deal,” he says, and they whip their eyes to him, their faces lighting up.

  “Are you serious?”

  “I sure am. They’re discussing the zoning change in the next session. We have enough votes to make it happen.”

  “You’re the fucking man,” Ed says, grinning ear to ear.

  “Let’s go celebrate... I can’t wait to get out of this clothing,” James says, not a glance in my direction.

  “What about her?” Ed asks, pointing at me.

  “She comes with us,” he throws over his shoulder without looking at me.

  10

  RAIN

  * * *

  “Get her car to my home,” James orders, tossing my car keys in the valet’s hand.

  “Sir––”

  “Don’t bore me with the details,” he barks, and the man gives him a short nod and swiftly moves away.

  Ed and Lex get their ride while James signals me to a limo. We climb in, the door shutting smoothly with a muffled thud.

  We occupy the opposite corners of the leather bench, his eyes going to his phone as soon as the car pulls away. I observe him quietly from my seat.

  A few moments pass by.

  “You didn’t even ask me...” I mutter, my gaze pinned on his profile.

  “Shut up, Rain. I don’t want to hear anything about your sister or your home or any of that family drama. You wanted a taste of the adult life than fucking own it and be an adult. It’s your business how you square off with them.”

  “How late...?”

  He flicks his gaze to me, his eyes blazing. My words drop dead in my throat. I look away.

  “I guess you want to prove a point,” I say.

  “I don’t need to prove anything.”

  “Then let me go,” I say tauntingly.

  “You had your chance to stay away.”

  “Are you abducting me?” I ask jokingly.

  Our eyes meet again.

  “No, I’m giving you a taste of what you want.”

  “What if I don’t like it?”

  “Oh, you’re gonna like it, baby, and you’re gonna ask for more.”

  Swiftly, he removes his bow tie and tucks it in his pocket as the other hand unbuttons his shirt. The neckline pulls open, the outline of his hard pecs coming into view.

  He shoots me a side glance as he begins to type a message.

  “Stop ogling me,” he grumps.

  “You’re an unusual man, James Sexton,” I say, shifting in my seat, tearing my gaze away.

  “I’m far from what you think,” he mutters.

  Moments later we enter a private road, and for a few minutes, we cruise through patches of trees, before we pull to a smooth stop in front of his house.

  He steps out, motions to the driver to stay put and holds the door for me, his eyes still on the phone.

  He takes my hand and walks me inside. I furtively glance around.

  The place is different than the Dark House.

  Surrounded by a big piece of land, the house sprawls between the edge of the woods and a nearby stream. A custom made pool flashes a blue light in the background.

  The front door opens as soon as we reach the top of the stairs.

  A butler holds it open for us.

  The inside looks like a cathedral with high vaulted ceilings, numerous windows, massive staircases, and a large corridor. Light pours from crystal chandeliers, gleaming over every nook and cranny.

  “Good evening, Sir,” the man says.

  James nods softly as he brings the phone to his ear and starts talking. He makes a sharp left.

  Linked to him, I have to follow him.

  We stroll through large chambers before we reach the dining room. The place could easily host a ball. He makes a right, and we enter the kitchen. The staff works around the kitchen island.

  All heads flick up, their eyes pulling to him.

  “I need Veronica,” he says, and one of the women vanishes into a different room.

  She comes back accompanied by another lady.

  “Sir?” the woman says softly, waiting for him to wrap up his phone conversation.

  “I need clothing for her,” he says pointing at me as if he found me on the street.

  “Sure, no problem. I can find something.”

  “In my room...” he instructs, and then he grips my hand and hauls me out of the kitchen, none of them glancing at me.

  We take the stairs to the upper level and stroll across a long hallway before we reach a spacious room overlooking the pool.

  A round bed, a nightstand and a corner sofa with a couple of armchairs, comprise the furniture, and there’s still enough space to park a few cars in the middle of his bedroom.

  “You sure are bossy,” I say. He drops my hand and shuts the door. “Why do you have so much staff?”

  “Because I can. What else do you need to know?” he asks brashly, inkling I need to keep my mouth shut.

  He shrugs out of his tuxedo jacket and unbuttons his shirt all the way down, my eyes wandering on his torso as
he peels it off and tosses it on a nearby chair.

  A large black tattoo covers his left shoulder and half of his arm. My gaze roams a bit as I get distracted by his chiseled chest, and muscular arms.

  “What are you celebrating?”

  “A business project I’ve been working on,” he says, and he spins away, heading for the bathroom.

  Minutes later a soft knock summons me to the door. Veronica hands me a stack of clothing, a pair of jeans, a tank top and a pair of boots.

  All my size, with tags attached.

  I close the door and turn around.

  He exits the bathroom, clad in a pair of jeans, his fly only half buttoned. They barely cover his groin, and my eyes drop a few times.

  He’s nothing but a wall of muscles, his abs rippling smoothly under his skin, his chest marred by scars.

  He looks as if he fights for a living, and in a sense he probably does.

  “Where is this clothing coming from?” I ask, raising my eyes.

  “She has a niece... your age,” he says, cryptic, and turns his back to me picking a t-shirt from a chair.

  The jeans slide low on his butt, revealing that teasing line where the curves of hard muscles begin.

  “Where is she?”

  He flicks his gaze over his shoulder.

  “School. Where you should be.”

  I scowl.

  “Why do I have to change? What’s wrong with my gown?”

  “You don’t want to ruin it...” he says, sensing me distracted.

  “Oh,” I say, not entirely sure what to believe.

  With the stack of clothing in my arms, I spin around and slip into the bathroom. It’s a spacious chamber made of marble, glass, and steel. His scent, a mix of faint smoke and cologne, floats in the air.

  I swallow hard as I push back the imagine of him naked in the shower.

  “Good,” he says approvingly as I stroll back in his bedroom.

  He gives me a quick once over, and I do the same to him.

  A black T-shirt stretches across his chest, his biceps straining against the sleeves. He has his boots on, his belt buckled, his dark, stonewashed jeans finally closed.

  My gaze stumbles on the hard bulge pushing against his fly.

  Swiftly I swing my gaze up and catch him peeling his eyes away from me.

  He heads to the door, expecting me to follow him, and as he pulls away from me, the reality begins to sink in, and I freeze.

  “Are you coming?” he throws from the doorway, his hand curled around the doorknob.

  He turns to me all the way, his eyes narrowing with an amused smile.

  “What’s the problem, Rain?”

  “What’s going to happen, James?” I ask, serious this time,

  Concern threads through my voice, my brazen attitude fizzling out, my courage gone.

  He swaggers back to me, his eyes holding mine, a satisfied grin rolling on his lips as if he’s waited for this moment, to see me break down, and come to my senses.

  “What are you afraid of?” he asks as he erases the space between us.

  I look up at him, and his hand comes to my face.

  “To get hurt... I guess,” I say, my voice faltering.

  “Isn’t a bit late for that?” he murmurs, his soft touch spreading warmth over my skin.

  He gives me a tender smile, a grin I’ve never seen on his lips.

  “Let me tell you something, sweetheart...” he says softly. “You can’t get anything out of this life without getting hurt. That’s why most people don’t get much out of their lives. They’re too scared to live. Are you one of those people?”

  “No, but... I don’t want to hurt anyone if something happens to me.”

  He runs his fingers across my cheek.

  “People get hurt even if you do nothing... It’s not in your power, babe. Besides, nothing will happen to you,” he says, a playful smile stretching on his lips. “Nothing that you wouldn’t want, anyway...” he adds and drapes his arm around my shoulders.

  He plants a kiss in my hair, with one gesture erasing the ten months lost between us.

  JAMES

  * * *

  “You drive.”

  I toss the car keys in her hand.

  She halts, her eyes filled with surprise.

  “You said you like cars...” I add.

  She looks at me, incredulous.

  “We’ll do this first, and we’ll get the Asterion next time...”

  “What’s the Asterion?”

  “The Lamborghini.”

  “Oh... The Lamborghini. Yeah... Okay,” she says, smiling, and climbs inside the Dodge Challenger.

  “Adjust your seat and your mirror...”

  She shifts in her seat, glancing at me from time to time.

  “Come on... We don’t have the whole night.”

  “Chill,” she says, and I stifle a chuckle.

  “Patience is not my virtue... Just so you know.”

  “All right,” she mutters as she turns on the engine and pulls the car onto the gravel road.

  Minutes later, we roll on the main road, darkness stretching in front of us as far as you can see.

  “Step on it.”

  “Aren’t you afraid?” she says, glancing at me.

  “Would I let you drive if I were?”

  She holds her foot on the brakes and slowly gives it power until the wheels start spinning and screeching, and then she lets it propel on the road.

  The wind blows in her hair, and her eyes sparkle with a smile as her body revs up from the rush of adrenaline.

  She keeps her gaze on the road and hits the turns just right, flying through them. She likes speed and power and control as much as I do, and that’s a pleasant surprise.

  I furtively study her beautiful face.

  She’s not like the other women. I’ve had all kinds, all pleasant to the eyes. Blondes, brunettes, redheads. Young and older. Doing their best, to lure and seduce, to show me their little tricks, to keep my focus on them.

  It all started and ended in the bed. They tried to please too much or play games too much, and it got old fast. You can only maintain someone’s interest for so long if there’s nothing more than sex.

  She gives me a quick glance.

  “Eyes on the road, sweetheart.”

  She shifts her focus back to the view in front of her, her lips pursing into a smile.

  I soak in her sculpted arms, long fingers, full chest, and elegant neck. Her smile lights up her cheekbones, setting off her intriguing eyes.

  There is a softness, and sweetness, buried deep inside her, and for the first time ever, I feel something different for a woman than only lust.

  There’s also a streak of wildness in her that makes my blood boil and my cock hard.

  Her jaw tenses as her eyes narrow, her long fingers raking through her hair.

  She’s stronger than she knows, yet she’s still a girl.

  “Make a right, here,” I say as homes start to come into view.

  She steers the wheel and lets her eyes roam over me.

  “You look good,” she murmurs.

  I bite back a smile.

  “Focus on driving.”

  “I am...” she says, moving her eyes back to the road.

  “So... Are you a writer?” I ask and slip a cigarette between my lips.

  “I write. I’m not sure that’s enough to make me a writer. And it’s a history book, after all. It’s not very exciting.”

  I roll the window down, blow the smoke out, and rest my elbow on the door.

  “Why history?”

  “I love it, especially the Ancient Rome history.”

  “What would you really like to write?”

  “Hmm... I don’t know much about the things I like to write about.”

  “What’s that,” I ask absently as I glance out the window.

  “Love... ”

  “Love?!” I say, pushing back a chuckle.

  “Yes. I think people like to read love st
ories. Don’t you?” she asks, genuinely innocent.

  “I don’t know...” I murmur, my smile dying out. “I don’t think there’s much to it.”

  “What do you mean?” she asks, a bit surprised.

  “What people call love... It’s nothing really. It’s the product of their imagination. A lie. I don’t believe in it.”

  “How can you say that?”

  She sounds deeply disappointed as if she just found out that Easter Bunny is a hoax. Not that he’s not.

  I cut my eyes to her.

  “I don’t think there’s such a thing, sweetie,” I say, and her face darkens, shrouded in gloom. “It has no depth, no substance, no meaning in the end. It doesn’t hold the test of time. It’s really an illusion. It’s something people want to believe in. It doesn’t mean it’s there.”

  Silence sits with us for a few moments.

  “What is love to you, Rain?” I ask looking at her again.

  Her mouth opens and closes a few times, her eyes darting between me and the road.

  “I don’t know. A lot. Everything. You’ve never been in love?”

  “Nope. Have you?”

  “No, but my parents were... They still are.”

  I look back at the window and take a long drag.

  “Where are your parents, darling?” I ask after I blow the smoke out.

  “What do you mean?” she asks, thrown off.

  “Tonight. Where are they?”

  “My mom is in California, and my dad is in Europe...”

  I stay silent. She ponders for a few moments.

  “Oh... I see what you mean, but distance happens, and people travel all the time.”

  “When was the last time they went somewhere together?”

  “Last year. They spent their vacation together. One week, on the islands.” She pauses.“What exactly are you telling me, James?”

  “All those men you saw me talk to, at that party... the mayor, the judge, the councilmen, and the bank people. All of them fuck something on the side.”

  Thick silence falls over my words, filling the space like an uninvited guest.

  Her eyes come to me.

  “And you know why? It’s not because they fall in love with those women they fuck on the side. It’s because they’re sick and tired of love. They had it home for years, and in time, it turned into endless conversations about money, savings, furniture, doctor visits and kids. It became schedules, lists, and a bunch of obligations. It became boring sex if it ever was anything but. Or it became no sex at all. That’s what love is, sweetheart. They have it home. They bought into the myth, and now they live it. And guess what? It sucked the life out of them. It made them fat and lazy and cranky. It made them a bunch of jerks who don’t want to have anything to do with love. All they want is to have their dick sucked in one of Red’s rooms. No questions asked. No conversations and sure as hell, no expectations. That’s what love in real life is.”