Reckless King

by Maya Hughes

  “I knew you were a woman who wanted to have her cake and eat it too.”

  It was like a re-creation of our first night together, but this time I’d been sure to study up.

  I woke in stages and dropped my hand onto the bed beside me. My eyes snapped open when my hand hit empty space. Turning to the side, the tension left my muscles as I spied a sleepy Kara lying on her stomach with a pillow shoved under her hips.

  There was a knock at the door, and I slid out of bed, wrapping a sheet around my waist, careful not to wake her. It was probably one of the guys. Opening the door to the room, my eyes bugged out at the overloaded room service cart stationed in the hallway.

  “Mr. Cunning put in an order for this for you.” The sheepish-looking bellhop and I glanced down at myself, standing there like I was headed to a toga party.

  “I can take it from here.” I grabbed the linen-covered cart and dragged it inside.

  The guy nodded and let me pull it in. I held on to the door so it wouldn’t slam. There were about ten covered dishes on the cart, and the smell made my stomach rumble.

  Dropping the sheet, I walked back into the bedroom and slid in beside her. Kara’s exposed skin was a beacon. I trailed my fingers down her bare shoulder, and she grumbled, burrowing deeper into the pillow she held on to. I hoped she thought that was me she was wrapped around. Testing my theory, I slid my arm under her head, and her eyes fluttered open. She squinted, barely opening her eyes before a lazy smile spread across her face. Lifting the blankets up, she covered the tempting bits of skin that had been peeking out from under them.

  “Morning.”

  “Morning.” She yawned and shifted over fully onto my arm with her head resting there. “What time is it?” Stretching under the covers like a weird starfish dance, she yawned again.

  “I think it’s eight.”

  “Too early.” She groaned and rolled in closer, lifting her leg over my hip. She sighed and closed her eyes like her shifting hadn't put her molten core less than an inch from my now aching cock. She cracked open her eyes, trying to look innocent.

  “What?” She moved her hips, and my dick grazed her wetness.

  A tingle crept down my spine, and I gazed at her with what I’m sure was a lecherous smile.

  “You do realize that you’re not getting out of this bed until you follow through on this tease.” I rocked my hips, and the tip of my cock slid through the hot sweetness already building between her legs like it was waiting for me.

  “Hold that thought.” She pressed her lips to mine and slid out of the bed. Grabbing my shirt off the chair, she threw it on. It shouldn’t be legal for a woman to look that good in my clothes.

  I’d never gotten the whole wearing-a-guy’s-clothes thing until that moment. She was tall—not as tall as me, but a nice height for resting her head on my shoulder and stuff like that. The shirt was longish for a shirt, but on her, as a makeshift dress, it was out of this world.

  She opened the door off the bedroom and poked her head inside. As she moved, the shirt that had barely covered her ass rose, exposing the bottom curve of her cheeks. My mouth watered. I wanted to feast on that ass. And then she was gone.

  I slid my arms under my head, waiting for her return. Her sweet cinnamon smell clung to my skin and made me smile. The bed smelled like her too.

  The bathroom door creaked open, and she rushed back in, closing the door behind her. She grabbed the hem of the shirt, and it was up and over her head in a flash. Smoothing out her hair with her hands, she crawled onto the bed, the stiff peaks of her nipples calling to me like delicious berries ready to be plucked.

  “Did you say something about me being a tease?” She dragged the blankets off my chest.

  The cool sheets glided across my cock, and I wrapped my hands around my swollen crown, pumping it up and down as I watched her.

  “I think I did say something like that.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, there must be some way I could make it up to you.” She grinned and put her hands on either side of my hips. Her soft fingers skimmed across my skin, her mouth less than an inch from my swollen head. With her eyes on me, she opened her mouth and closed the gap between my dick and her beautifully plump lips.

  “I think you’re on the right track.” I sucked in a breath.

  “How about now?” She stuck out her pink tongue, running it around my crown before taking me into her mouth. The hot, wet suction of her mouth made my toes curl. I sank my fingers into the sheets and forgot anything else existed other than Kara and the pounding pleasure that rolled over me.

  11

  Kara

  We had a lazy morning, finally rolling out of bed at eleven or so. My normally frizzy hair was a poof ball of epic proportions that I tried to tame as I stepped into the other room for some food. The only person with stomach grumbles louder than Heath was me.

  He gave me his shirt I’d taken off earlier when I went to search for my clothes. It smelled like him.

  “Wear this. We’ll get your clothes later.” He buttoned up his jeans, going commando.

  I was going to ask why, but then I saw the way his eyes went molten as I tugged at the hem of the shirt hitting me on my upper thighs. He ushered me out into the living room. How was I supposed to eat when he was looking at me like that?

  My stomach rumbled the second the smell of food slammed into me.

  “There’s a lot here.” He gestured to the cart piled with food.

  “You ordered all this?” I turned to him with my eyes wide.

  “Emmett strikes again. My friend from the bar. It seems his generosity keeps giving.”

  Must be nice to have friends like that. I had friends who I could bum a couple fries from. That was as far as it went.

  “I don’t know what I want to have first. It all smells amazing.” I sat in the chair he pulled out for me at the small table in the corner of the room.

  “How about I get you a little bit of everything? Do you want some coffee?”

  My ears perked up. He grabbed two mugs off the cart and poured us both some piping-hot coffee.

  Sliding the plate under my nose with a hand towel draped over his arm, Heath presented me with my meal.

  “Brunch is served.” His French accent could use a little work.

  “This smells so good.” I plunged my fork into the food, not even caring what I ate first, it all smelled so delicious. Heath sat in the chair beside me when I was on my third forkful. I looked between him and my plate.

  “Sorry.” I covered my mouth with my hand so I wasn’t giving him a special preview of my already chewed food.

  “Don’t be sorry. It’s really good.” He grinned and tucked into his plate.

  I groaned as I ate my first mouthful of the French Toast. “Why is restaurant food so freaking good?” I bounced in my seat as I ate. This food made me want to break out into song and dance.

  “My mom’s food is even better than this, and her secret is that she practically has a tanker truck full of butter—we are stocked to the ceiling with butter at all times. So, so much butter. So I’m going to go with the fact that each plate here probably has about three sticks of butter in it.”

  Normally I’d be horrified, but I didn’t even care. When it was this good, I couldn’t care.

  “Your mom cooks? Is she a chef? Like professionally?”

  Heath shook his head, some of his hair falling into his eyes. I really wanted to brush it back from his face, but that would mean I wasn’t eating and that wasn’t acceptable.

  “No, she’s an accountant. She loves to cook for people and give it away. When I was growing up, she didn’t get to cook very much, so she takes advantage whenever she can.”

  “Why didn’t she get to cook when you were growing up?”

  He froze mid-bite, and I shoveled another heaping forkful of food into my mouth.

  “My dad only liked specific things. Nothing that gave off any scents that were too strong. She was never allowed to cook what she wan
ted or bring it to other people.”

  My chewing slowed at the look on in his eyes. His normally sun-kissed face had paled. We barely knew each other. Had I just stepped into a minefield?

  I slid my hand across the table and wrapped it over the top of his.

  “Why not?” Why was I prodding? I hated it when people did that to me, thinking I was being cagey about my past to create a sense of mystery and not to shield myself from massive embarrassment.

  “My dad said it was a waste of time and money. That and he was an abusive asshole.” His jaw was clenched, and his hand was wrapped tightly around his fork.

  “I’m sorry. I… It’s never an easy thing to deal with. When the people you love turn out to be the people who hurt you most.” The pit in my stomach grew. I shouldn’t have said anything.

  His eyes snapped to mine, and he dropped his fork and ran his fingers over my knuckles.

  “You too?”

  That spark of connection. Maybe that was what had drawn us to each other on that first night. Somehow we’d sensed our pasts even through the fronts we’d both put up. Me as an uptight, together grad student and him as the carefree hottie.

  “Not like that. It wasn’t me they hit. Not that I didn’t see a fair share of the men who professed to love my mom whaling on her. But she never let anyone touch me after—” I stopped.

  He squeezed my hand. “What happened?”

  I should stop talking. Stop talking, Kara. Say it was no big deal. Zip those lips!

  “My mom and Dad aren’t my birth parents. They are my foster parents who adopted me. I came to them when I was thirteen and an absolute wreck. My mom is—” My lips turned down as the words in her letters came back to me. “Is an alcoholic.” Was it a was now? Was she still one and sober now? “She wasn’t the best at choosing people who weren’t going to hurt her.” The carefully worded retelling of my childhood came off stilted and awkward. I’d never talked to anyone about this stuff before.

  “After what?” Heath’s hand tightened on mine and I winced. He glanced down, and his eyes got wide. Snatching his hand away, his clenched jaw relaxed, and he shoved his hands into his lap.

  “It only happened once. It was an accident, but that at least got her to kick the guy out. And for a little while I thought maybe that might be a turning point, but it wasn’t. She disappeared for a long time after that and then things got worse and then I ended up with my family.” And now I’d word vomited my entire life story on a guy I’d spent two nights in person with. I tried to shake off those old feelings. That old hurt that never seemed to go away completely.

  “I’m glad you ended up with a good family.” He traced a path on the back of my hand.

  “What about you?” I glanced over at him. I seriously wasn’t going to learn. Stop prodding! My heart ached for what we’d both been through. He hadn’t told me his story yet, but I could see it etched all over his face. The brightness and lightness dimmed. I almost didn’t ask, but knowing I wasn’t alone in dealing with some of life’s harsh realities eased that tightness in my chest. The one where I wondered if I’d ever feel whole again.

  “It only happened once to me too. I couldn’t take him going after my mom anymore, so I jumped in and got the shit kicked out of me. Apparently that was what my mom needed to leave him. Had I known that, I’d have jumped in a lot sooner and taken the ass kicking. Once we got out of the hospital, we were in the car and moved here.”

  “Have you ever seen him since?” A knot formed in my stomach. Angie dropping into my life had been embarrassing but never physically harmful.

  He hesitated and then shook his head. More strands of his hair fell over his eyes. His shoulders were stiff and straight. I’d taken his carefree attitude for granted. With the way he spoke and moved through the world, I assumed he’d had a charmed kind of life, untouched by the ugliness so many people experienced.

  “He went to jail for a while after what he did, but he never came after us. What about you? Have you seen your mom since?” His eyes found mine, searching for more from me.

  I stared down at our hands, his warmth soaking into my skin and the rough pads of his fingers tracing a random pattern on the back of my hand.

  “I have. A few times. Not since high school graduation though. She sent me a letter recently. She wanted to meet me. Said she was sober and has been for a while.”

  “Do you want to meet her?”

  The very question I’d warred with since the minute I’d opened the letter. Why was I spilling my guts like this? I guess that bright and giddy feeling he brought out made it feel like I could say these words out loud and it wouldn’t implode my life. And, knowing he’d been through hard things too made it feel like he’d understand.

  It was like spilling your guts to someone you met on a whirlwind trip. In a few days, he’d be gone playing hockey, and I’d be back to classes. Standing up in front of a class, trying not to choke on the general banalities of my life.

  “No. Yes. I don’t know. I do, but I don’t think I can. I don’t think I can handle meeting her and finding out it was all a lie.”

  “What if it’s not a lie? Do you think it would help you to see her?”

  “I really don’t know. A part of me is always so scared that growing up like I did will mean that something like that is around the corner for me.”

  “I have a feeling the only thing around the corner for you is great things.”

  I cracked a smile, even with the unanswered questions about Angie floating around my head.

  “I’m glad you think so. I’m never really sure. I replied to her e-mail saying I’d like to meet, and then I chickened out. There are too many ways it could go wrong if I let her back into my life. Things are good with my family. I love my parents and my sister, and letting her back in would be a smack in the face to them.”

  “Do you really think that?”

  I dragged my fingers through my hair, and they caught in the tangles.

  “I don’t know. I don’t even know if it’s what I want or something I think I should do. Maybe later this semester. Once I’ve found out about the fellowship and things don’t feel so up in the air. Maybe then.” It sounded a lot like I was trying to convince myself and not Heath.

  “Don’t let your fear hold you back from something that could give you closure on a part of your life you want to forget.”

  “We can’t all be as balls-out brave as you.” I chuckled, and my leg bounced up and down.

  “I haven’t been balls-out brave since junior year of high school. Learned the hard way that the administration did not look kindly upon my balls being featured in the class picture.” He chuckled, and the clouds were pushed aside.

  “Why am I not surprised?” I laughed. “Do we still get our New Year’s date?” I bit my bottom lip. Had I completely messed this up by bringing in the heavy? This was supposed to be a fun fling, but somewhere things had changed.

  “Don’t think you’re getting out of it that easily.” He smiled and got up from the table, picking up my plate.

  “I wasn’t trying to get out of anything. Just asking.”

  Heath crouched down in front of me. The sharp tingle was back, and I tightened my fingers around the seat of my chair.

  His blond strands fell over his forehead.

  “We are most definitely on, unless you don’t want to be on.” Hesitancy and worry creased his brow, and I dipped my head, resting my forehead against his.

  “I can’t wait.”

  His bright smile created the lightness in my chest I’d been chasing like a high since the first second he’d looked at me.

  We piled everything back on the cart after we’d eaten so much my stomach was ready to explode. A food coma was right around the corner. As much as I didn’t want to, I needed to get home and get some work done.

  Leaving our cocoon where I’d been sexed into oblivion, and the world hadn’t ceased to spin when I’d spilled my guts, and hot guys like Heath kept staring at my ass like it was
the newest and most delicious dessert ever created would suck, but we still had a real date in a couple of days. Unfortunately, for now, the real world beckoned.

  12

  Heath

  Declan had grumbled about my intensive cleaning of the house over the past two days. I’d wanted everything to be perfect. I finally figured out the perfect place for New Year’s Eve. My place. Why go somewhere else filled with tons of people? Rubbing my hands together, I double checked the blankets and telescope at the spot I’d picked out for us. At a knock so light I almost missed it, I rushed downstairs.

  Everything looked normal as I quickly glanced around the living room. I flung open the door and stared into the eyes of the woman who’d had me twisted up in knots since our first meeting. Her smiling face drew a smile out of me immediately. It was like staring into the sun. I was tempted to shield my eyes. We stood in the doorway, staring into each other’s eyes. Why does every time we first see each other seem to end up like this? Like we were both stunned by each other’s presence.

  “Hey.”

  She looked beautiful. The deep purple of her dress peeking out from under her coat matched the shades in her hair.

  I was totally outclassed with my lazy smile, bed-head hair, and fitted thermal shirt.

  “Hey.” She ducked her head. My hand shot out and wrapped around her waist.

  Her warmth battled against the freezing December air. Over the past ten days or so our text conversations had slipped into such a familiar place that I’d forgotten we’d only seen each other in person twice.

  “This is your place?” Her gaze darted around our small porch and the brick facade of the house.

  “Yup.” I pulled her inside and closed the door behind her.

  She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and reached for the buttons on her coat.

  “Not yet.” I covered her hand with mine and walked her upstairs. She eyed me suspiciously, as we stepped into my bedroom. I led her to the open window, and her eyebrows furrowed.