by Skylar West
This time, her eyes rolled, and she made fabulous little yum sounds as she ate and sipped. "Kingsley, I think my taste buds just had sex; oh my God, this is so good." I smiled as I watched her devour half the plate before helping myself.
"These pairings that you do, this could be huge. I mean, what if you had a location to host pairing events, like a wine tasting night for the rich and famous? I think you could own the culinary destination vacations if you did."
That was interesting; maybe my Kate was an idea girl. She seemed to understand what my bistro was offering. It could make for an exciting project, and it gave me an idea as to how to handle her parents at dinner.
An hour later, and two more courses, we were done and sipping Italian Affogato, coffee and dessert in one cup. Another new one for Kate, who couldn't stop raving about her experience. I noticed, through our almost two hours together, she had gotten comfortable. Clearly, dining was something she was passionate about.
When it was time to go, she shook both Chloe and Kimberley's hands with enthusiasm and said she couldn't wait to tell all her friends about her fantastic experience. Kimberley, who was not much older than Kate, told her it had been a pleasure and she couldn't wait to host Kate and her friends.
Once outside, I walked her to her vehicle. "Katarina, what time is dinner?"
"Um, eight; are you still insistent on coming with?"
"I don't change my mind once I have decided something, Katarina; you should know that now. I can be quite relentless when I want something."
She blushed. "I can see that, Kingsley. Should I meet you there?"
"No, I am a gentleman, I will pick you up at your flat."
She giggled. "My condo is not far from the hotel where we are dining."
As we were parting, I said, "Katarina, I want you wearing no panties or G-string tonight."
She turned toward me as she was closing her car door, her face beet red. I seemed to have that effect on this woman, and it delighted me to no end.
"No guarantees, Kingsley. I wear what I want." She quickly closed the door and drove off. I laughed at her feisty rebuttal but promised myself that if she wore either, she would soon learn fast not to do it again.
I would take her into the bathroom of the hotel and give the brat her first spanking. As I thought of her naked ass over my knee, it gave me a hard-on. I'd been hard more times thinking of her than I'd been in the past year, looking at all the damaged, empty women whom I'd come across.
Chapter 4
Kate
I zoomed away from the curb before he could say anything else. When I checked my rear-view mirror, I could see him chuckling. I sped through downtown Los Angeles, getting as far away from Kingsley Deveraux as possible. Any time spent with that man made me hot and tingly all over, and I was a little afraid of how my body betrayed me whenever I was around him.
When I arrived at my condo, I checked the clock; three hours until pick up. I was tempted to get loaded, but I was enjoying the glow from the various wine pairings and decided I didn't want to spoil it.
Instead, I lay on my bed, horny. Kingsley Deveraux had a profound effect on me. Damn the man, he was so hot, so gorgeous, in a dark, broody kind of way. He moved like a dangerous animal, and when he sat me on his lap, I would have said yes to anything he asked of me.
I reached into my bedside table and grabbed my vibrator. Then I closed my eyes and visualized myself over Kingsley's lap. I had never been spanked, so I had no idea what it felt like, but something told me I would enjoy anything he dished out.
I felt the heat rising from my core through my center and build at the apex between my thighs. It didn't take long for me to have an orgasm; it never did, but this time was more intense than anything I'd ever experienced with myself.
Because I hadn't dated since my monstrous mistake years before and I didn't indulge in one-night stands, to release my stress, I had my bedside drawer, battery operated boyfriend. I knew I was missing out on some authentic experiences by hiding from opportunities, but I pushed those thoughts away like I did with everything else I didn't want to deal with.
I fell into a doze for about forty-five minutes and, when I woke, decided to treat myself to a bath. Thankfully, my vibrator was waterproof, so I took it with me. An hour later, I was rosy clean and feeling like my sexual hunger was slaked. I dressed carefully, going with conservative black, but the cut of my dress was anything but conservative. It was clingy and low cut; the hemline fell to mid-thigh. I grabbed a rhinestone clutch in bright red with matching red stilettos. The look was a little much for dinner with my parents, but as I had a date for the dinner from hell, I felt a little glitter and sex appeal was in order.
That, and I felt the red signified the money whore that I was and the black a symbol of death, which I felt every time I had to spend time with my parents. I wanted to love them and enjoy my time with them, but the truth was they couldn't be trusted, they were ruthless and had no problem stamping out problems as they arose, including their only child. I was leverage for them, and it was best that I never forgot it.
I left my hair down and flowing and dusted some skin shimmer across my cheeks and above my eyes, giving me a glitter effect, then mascara and red lipstick to go with the outfit. I took a look at myself in the mirror. I looked older and respectable. Ha, I thought, I looked like everything I wasn't, and that fit in with my family dynamic perfectly. If I'd learned anything from my mother, it was how to keep people at arm's length.
The doorman rang to say my date had arrived, so I took one last look before leaving the safety of my condo. When the elevator dinged, I saw Kingsley standing in the lobby. His eyes turned in my direction. I could tell he liked what he saw, by the bulge that suddenly appeared in his pants.
He held out his arm to me, and I wrapped mine around him as he escorted me to his vehicle. Once I was tucked safely inside and he'd slid the seatbelt across me and clipped it in, he ran his hand up my thighs. What he felt was heat and a freshly shaved pussy. What he didn't feel was cloth. I had decided at the last minute not to wear the G-string I had originally put on.
I imagined that being across his lap in my thoughts was better than being across his actual lap in the restaurant bathroom, assuming he'd at least give us the privacy of a bathroom.
"Katarina, I'm not sure if I'm happy you listened or not." He spoke directly to me, his dark eyes gazing into mine. "I must admit, I was hoping you would be a bad girl so I could give you that spanking I promised."
My flesh tingled at his words, my lady parts clenching in response. He laughed, feeling it as he'd not yet moved his hand away. "That's right, Katarina, get wet for me. Be a good girl, and I might give you a taste of what you want later."
Now, that pissed me off, but before I could say a word, his mouth descended on mine and his tongue delved, parting my lips like the red sea and rendering me speechless. I melted into the seat as he explored my mouth, his hand stroked the burning inferno that was starting to turn me into a puddle.
When he stopped, I managed to find my voice. "Kingsley," I said huskily. "If you think you can control me with the promise of sex or lack of, you are sorely mistaken. That is manipulation, and I don't respond to that. In fact, if you try to hold me hostage to sex, this is the last time you will see me."
I was angry, but more than that, I needed to feel in control. The man left me breathless every time he touched me, and that would not do.
He pulled back, his eyes dark and cloudy. "I was merely teasing you, Katarina. I have no intention of holding you hostage. Well, not like that anyway. I prefer you tied to my bed." Then he stood and closed my door before walking around and climbing into the driver's seat.
We chatted about my parents on the fifteen-minute drive to the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. I warned him again about the type of evening it would be. He told me to relax, he'd attended plenty of social gatherings where he was the center of his parents' censorship.
Maybe he did get it. I was sure being the only son of a fam
ily who was related to the royal family could be no easy feat, especially when they could not control him. I'd perused the internet. Kingsley was worth a fortune, and not because of his family's wealth. That was in addition to what he'd managed to create on his own since the age of eighteen.
I looked at my date and I could see he had many layers. So far, I'd only seen two, the predator and the host. What else was Kingsley? Who was he, and why was one of the most desirable bachelors around spending time with me? Did it matter? I knew, if nothing else, my parents would be impressed, maybe even lay off a bit.
I felt my stress level go down a notch. Kingsley was coming to be on Team Kate, and a sense of excitement began to build at seeing Kingsley go to bat for me with my parents. We pulled up to the Wilshire. I waited while Kingsley got out and handed the keys to the valet. He opened my door and pulled me to my feet. "Why so cheery?" he asked.
"Oh, nothing. Actually, I'm almost looking forward to having you interact with my parents. This is usually a Katie roast type of event, but I think, with you here, it may actually be entertaining."
Then my amusement dissipated. "Look, King, I don't know why you're really here, and I don't know why you decided I was someone you wanted to spend time with, but however this turns out tonight, I just want you to know, I'm grateful for your company, and I'm sorry if it gets ugly."
He lifted my hand to his lips and planted a kiss on my palm. I felt a bolt of electricity from my hand to my lady parts, which clenched in response. "Don't worry, Katarina, I have verbally boxed with the best; this will be a cakewalk."
I grinned. "Okay, then lead the way." Kingsley escorted me into the lobby of the hotel. Paparazzi, who must have been there to capture shots of my parents, went ballistic when they saw us. I could see the headlines now. "Spoiled software princess and King of the Devereaux empire, out on the town!"
"Just smile," he said, barely moving his lips.
I painted a big smile on my face as he led me to the restaurant where a maître d was waiting to escort us to my parents' table. They, of course, had a private dining room overlooking Beverly Hills.
My mother was wearing a dress that was cut so low that, if she twisted, her boobs would fall out of the little V of material that covered them. Beside her, sat her eye candy for the evening, a guy, no older than I am and super cute, in a puppy sort of way. He was most likely a gold digger.
My father was in a tux, with a young woman at his side, who was dressed exactly like my mother but was at least twenty years her junior. My God, they were disgusting. They did a double-take when they saw who I was with, and I would say, in comparison to the brash display they made, Kingsley and I showed them up in the class department.
My father rose to his feet, reaching out his hand to Kingsley the moment we were in the table's radius. "Mr. Deveraux, what a surprise, please have a seat." Without releasing my arm, he shook hands with my father's and then made his way around the table, shaking hands with my mother's date as well. Finally, he kissed both ladies' hands and then escorted me to my seat.
He pulled out my chair and moved me in afterward, before he took his own place. His manners were impeccable, and I could see my father's eyes glittering like daggers. He was being outmanned by my date, and he didn't like it.
I felt suddenly unsure of myself and was about to start making simple conversation when Kingsley spoke up. "I hope you don't mind, Mr. Wallington, that I have escorted Katarina this evening. She is so charming, I found myself begging her to bring me along, just so I could spend time with her."
My father sat back, eyeing Kingsley. "Is that right, Mr. Deveraux? I would have thought with all the women the tabloids have you parading around with, you'd have no time for a loser like my daughter." And there it was, the first dagger of the evening, and it hurt like hell, but I didn't let it show.
Kingsley laughed like the best joke in the world had just been told. "Well, Mr. Wallington, you can't always believe everything you read or see, isn't that right?" In response, my father snorted but said nothing.
"Kate, darling, you never mentioned Mr. Deveraux in your text messages; how long have you two been dating?" If I answered truthfully, they would roll their eyes and see this for what it was. I was about to speak when Kingsley, who had been holding my hand this entire time, squeezed mine. He looked at me with laughter in his eyes. "Let me tell it, darling."
I gave him a doe-eyed smile of consent. "Katarina has been attending my social venues to give me suggestions on how to better run my creative enterprises. She is a fantastic consultant, and because of all her hard work, we have decided to start a project together, World Pairings Destination Retreats. I am super excited about getting this project underway and seeing how she can grow my business beyond California."
Oh, my God, I couldn't believe it. He had taken one little comment I'd made and turned it into a business venture. Ha, they could take that and choke on it. No one spoke, the seconds of silence seeming interminable.
"That's right," I finally said, "I can't wait to go over my first draft of plans with you, darling." I played it up, and Kingsley's eyes sparkled with merriment. We weren't lying, just embellishing. Despite that, I knew that Kingsley had the intention of bringing what he just said to fruition. He never said anything he didn't mean. Wasn't that what he'd told me earlier?
I felt that, by commenting, I was consenting to his story and making a move toward a short-term future. Who knew, maybe I could be good at this, and perhaps it could lead to something? At least, I hoped so. I didn't think Kingsley would say it if he didn't at least mean to investigate the possibility.
My father held up his wine glass. "I guess a toast is in order. To Katie, may this be the first of many successful projects." We repeated and clinked our glasses. The rest of the dinner was spent in small talk, my father and Kingsley chit-chatting about business and what was trending. My mother cooed over everything my father said, and their respective dates made goo-goo eyes at each other.
I did what I always did around my parents, stayed quiet, and only participated when directly engaged. The evening, thankfully, flew by, and before I knew it, we were standing and saying our goodbyes. As the men shook hands, I noticed my father kept his grip tight on Kingsley's as he said, "I am looking forward to hearing about your world pairings business and my daughter's participation in this project. I'm back in town in about three months, Mr. Deveraux. We should do lunch, and you can catch me up."
"Of course, here is my card. Have your people call me, and we'll set something up." I waved goodbye as he hustled me out of the restaurant and to the waiting car.
Once we were in and driving away, he finally spoke. "What insufferable people; no wonder you don't like spending time with them."
I sighed, feeling as if a weight had been lifted. Someone got it, got me; it was a nice, warm feeling in my heart. "So, what now, sweetheart?" I said the last part so over the top that Kingsley laughed, then his face took on a more austere expression.
"I guess I owe you that spanking now."
"What? Why?" I asked, suddenly sitting up in my seat, the lovely warm feeling evaporating.
He smirked, "Consider it an interview."
Now, I was utterly baffled. "An interview, for what, exactly?"
He was silent for a long moment while he considered his words. "I like you, Katarina, and I know I can help you; this interview is to see if we can work well together."
I wasn't sure how to take his comment and remained silent on our drive to what I assumed was his house. We pulled up to a driveway that one would have had to know in advance was there, hidden as it was by enormous trees on either side.
He drove up a long, winding driveway which, again, was lined with huge trees. I felt like I was in the country, not the heart of L.A., as he pulled into a circular driveway in front of a vast Tudor, very un-Hollywood. The grounds were dark, but he had sparkly lights encasing the house, and I almost felt as if I was in a storybook place. It felt almost magical as I looked around and saw t
he traditional English gardens.
Kingsley had created a little slice of home; another piece of the Kingsley pie was added to my knowledge. He didn't despise England, in fact, from looking around, I'd say he missed it very much. He had left to make his mark on the world and built himself a new home. I looked again, this time at the detail surrounding me. I realized that I was with a meticulous and creative man, and for some reason, that made me feel good. It suddenly seemed safe to get to know him better.
He opened my door and escorted me up to the front stairs and in through the door. Although the house was massive, it was incredibly homey. I could see a large family growing up and being very happy in this home. The front entrance wasn't a typical cold marble or slate that many people were going for these days. No, his was wood, old wood or reclaimed. And on top of that wood, were bright area rugs.
The center of the entrance was most unusual. Instead of the usual grand entrance with the large round table and floral arrangement in the center, this one had a spacious solarium. When I looked up, I could see it was glass at the very top, providing many hours of light. It was stunning and such a brilliant way to bring the use of greenery into one's home and oxygen. I quickly dubbed it the lungs of the house and told Kingsley when he asked what I thought.
"Lungs, I never looked at it that way, but what a perfect way to describe it. Come, Katarina, I'll give you the tour."
I followed him from room to room on level one. These rooms were for entertaining, and he had combined the old world feel with his choice of colors and textures, along with the new world of state-of-the-art equipment in the main entertainment space as well as the kitchen.
The kitchen led out to another English garden with a beautiful pool and waterfall in the center. I imagined a cook could get quite excited about having access to one's own organic produce, which, upon further inspection, he had as well.
He smiled and said he had someone look after the garden, and he used the product for his restaurants as he was never home and didn't cook, himself. I didn't cook, either, but I really liked food and the fresher, the better.
