panties?” she quipped.
“Nope.” He took a sip of his drink and glanced at the stage.
“Those were one of my favorite pairs.” She feigned a sad expression. “Victoria’s Secret.”
“Well, her secret wasn’t safe with me. Size large to accommodate that perfect ass of yours, cotton crotch, bright red against smooth as silk brown skin.”
“You like underwear? You’re that type of freak?”
“Yeah. I like underwear.” He shrugged, looking lazily at the band, then back at her.
“Why? Not that there’s anything wrong with it. I’m just curious.”
“It doesn’t matter to me if you found it strange, really. If you do, that’s fine. It won’t change anything. People are who they are. Anyway, yeah.” He stroked his beard and looked into her eyes. “I like knowing that it was close to the most intimate and sacred part of a woman I desire. That I had what was hidden away inside of it, what was rubbing against it. I like the way the fabric feels,” He began to rub his hands together, slowly demonstrating just how’d he do it. She visibly swallowed. “…The lingering scent of womanly sexual excitement… Excitement that I caused her to have…moisture… I enjoy it, until that is all gone, too. But I hold on to the panties, nevertheless. It’s an aide-mémoire, if you will, of your femininity. Something I am not, that I could never be, but appreciate and, I suppose, in my own way, worship.”
A web of silence weaved itself between them, so thick it rivaled the fog of smoke. Her lips slowly parted, the sheen across her lower lip catching the light just so.
“Just so I’m clear, you don’t go finding random underwear, right? It has to be someone you dated?”
“Yeah. I don’t want just anyone’s dirty ass draws.” She chuckled and shook her head. “I mean, shit, I’m freaky, but I have boundaries. Anyway, the point is, I have to have been connected to the woman. Like we had chemistry, a connection, and I would have been with her intimately. You were a triple threat.”
“How so?”
“The underwear is good quality and pretty. It’s in my favorite color, red. Of course, the obvious. We fucked. So, I simply couldn’t resist.”
“When did you realize you wanted to see me again?” She offered a crooked smile.
He polished off his glass of whiskey, looked around them, then settled his gaze back upon her.
“The better question is, when did you realize you were upset that I was gone?”
CHAPTER TEN
A King in Queens
It was midnight and her bare feet, adorned with two simple gold toe rings and a matching anklet, were propped up on the dash of the car. Suri’s throat burned like she’d swallowed razor blades doused in gasoline, then set ablaze on their way down to her cramping gut. The whiskey embalmed her brain and cemented her stomach, mingling with the medium rare Ahi tuna she’d just eaten and triggering a slight nausea. Then, the non-stop laughter she could no longer control made her temples throb. Sebastian Mikael’s, ‘Exit’ played through the speakers of the old silver Ferrari 250 GTO.
“This car is so bad ass. I love it. Where’d you get it?” She bobbed her head to the beat of the music, feeling the moment.
“It’s my father’s. Chris’. He let me borrow it.”
“He’s got great taste. I’ve never owned a car, but I love looking at old classic cars.”
“Can you drive?”
“Yeah, my father taught me and then I took it up in high school. Driver’s education. I have a license that I renew but only use it as an I.D. Speaking of fathers, I notice sometimes you call yours dad, other times stepdad. What’s that about?”
King turned up the volume of the song. How odd. He was ready to respond, right? Why drown out his words? She wiggled her toes.
“I don’t know, actually,” he said. “I mean, I guess it’s because he’s both. He was with me more than my biological father, raised me for most of my life. He adopted me, like I told you, and that really pissed my father off.”
“Why did your biological father agree to it then? Doesn’t he have to give permission?” Maybe I’m asking too many questions? Well hell, I want to know. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, King will damn sure tell me.
“He was in rehab.”
“Oh, I see.” She tilted her head to get a better look at him.
“He went on his own. It wasn’t court mandated or anything like that.” Well, that was smart of him. You don’t hear about