The King - S.R. Jones Page 0,64
the pussy was out of commission, but he hasn’t tried anything.”
Fucked her in the ass? While she’s heavily pregnant?
“Then he’d have slapped my ass for good measure and eaten me out until I came like a train. That’s what K would have done. But now? Nothing. And he’s not getting it elsewhere because for the last few days, he’s been here in this house all the time, holed up planning with his men in the basement.”
“So? It’s like three days.” I roll my eyes.
“K doesn’t go three days without. Or not the K I knew. So it got me thinking, and I called around some of his fuck buddies. The ones I knew he still saw now and again, even when he was with me.”
“He cheated on you?” I stop eating to stare at her, feeling some sympathy for her for the first time.
“I don’t think you can call it cheating when neither of you have claimed to be exclusive,” she replies with a shrug and another sip of her wine. ”We played games sometimes, wound one another up, but it was always worth it because the make-up sex was epic. He never promised me anything, and I never asked. I knew some of his girls on the side, and I asked them, and they told me the truth; that he still screwed them now and again. I called them now, though, and none of them have heard from him for months.” She fixes me with a stare loaded with meaning, except I don’t know what the meaning is.
How come she gets to call outside and I don’t? Oh yeah, she’s the woman carrying his baby. He’ll give her a lot more leeway than me, I expect. Is that what you have to do with these men to be viewed as human? Be carrying their kid?
“Maybe he’s turned over a new leaf. He’s going to be a father.” I don’t know why I’m carrying on this conversation, but I’m bored and achingly lonely after sitting in my room for days.
She gives a harsh laugh. “He’s made it quite clear that while he is here for this baby, he’s most certainly not here for me. This isn’t working out as I’d planned. I need to get out of here.” She sips at her wine, and then to my shock throws the whole glass down her throat and gets up with a huff and pours some more.
“You really shouldn’t be drinking that amount,” I tell her.
“Bitch, I’ve got troubles. I can’t think clearly, and I need to think. I’m in trouble.” She sighs and nibbles on a long fake nail.
“What kind of trouble?”
“Oh, no, now that would be telling. And don’t whisper a word of this to K, or I’ll tell him you kicked me in the stomach.”
Moments later, the man in question comes into the room. He does an exaggerated double take at us both sitting together. “Wow, ladies, you’re playing nice.”
“Bet you love this, King K with his posse of women, like some lion with his females.” She sips the wine.
“Neither of you are my women,” he says as he grabs the wine and pours it down the sink. “Once more, Liza. You drink one more glass of wine, and I’ll make you regret it.”
She doesn’t say anything, but I see it, a flicker of worry, fear in her gaze as she looks away first.
“Did you get the clothes and the books?” he asks me, his tone casual.
“Yes, the clothes are…”
“What?” He’s impatient.
“Not me,” I say.
“You two are the most ungrateful women I’ve ever met.”
“Maybe because we’re prisoners,” I snap.
He stalks up to me and puts his fists on the breakfast bar, either side of my plate, making those insanely muscular forearms of his bulge.
“I have a room in the basement where I can let you spend your time, show you how a real prisoner lives. If you’d prefer?”
I try not to eye-fuck him as I answer, “No thanks.”
He’s looking extra gorgeous today somehow.
I dial down the aggression for one moment. “I like the book. Thank you.”
He smiles, briefly. “You’re welcome, Cassie. You’re so much nicer when you play nice like this.”
Liza makes a puking sound in the back of her throat. “You two are disgusting. You’re flirting up a storm, like pathetic school children.”
She calls this flirting? She really is loopy. Thankfully, she gets off the stool and heads out of the room, hand on her stomach. “She tried to hurt the baby,” she says to Konstantin as she