He rolls toward me and tugs on my arm. “C’mon, just lie down with me for a bit. I’m too wiped to try anything dirty; I swear.”
Why is his sleepy voice so sexy? It’s all gravelly and extra deep. Against my better judgment, I slide onto the bed next to him and lie down. Kingston scoots closer until his body is molded around mine. I’d like to say I don’t wiggle my butt and press into him, but I’m only human so...whatever.
Kingston nuzzles the back of my neck. “You smell like me.”
“I used your shower gel,” I explain.
“Mmm. I like it.”
I stiffen when he grinds his massive erection between my butt cheeks. "Kingston..."
He groans. “It’s morning wood; it’ll go away eventually. Just ignore it.”
“Easy for you to say,” I mutter. “You’re not the one with a dick nestled in your ass.”
“Shh...” Kingston whispers. “Less talky, more sleepy.”
I sigh. “You’re impossible.”
“Sleep, Jazz.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Despite my earlier hesitancy, it’s hard not to relax in Kingston’s embrace. It’s way too comfy and the safest I’ve felt in a long time. Before I know it, I’m drifting off to dreamland.
A FEATHER-LIGHT TOUCH brushes my cheek. "Jazz, it's time to wake up."
I open my eyes, slowly blinking Kingston’s face into focus. “What time is it?”
“Just after ten.”
Damn. I slept for three hours.
I carefully sit up and swing my legs over the side of the mattress. “Did you just get up?”
“About twenty minutes ago. I let you sleep as long as I could, but we need to talk. I have a thing at one, so I’ll need to head out shortly after noon.”
I look over my shoulder as I help myself to a bottle of water from the fridge. “What thing?”
I notice his hair is damp, and he's wearing different clothes. His lip is still swollen, but the dried blood is gone. Kingston obviously showered in the short time he's been awake.
Kingston takes a seat at the breakfast bar directly across from me. “I’m meeting my P.I. He has some new surveillance equipment for me.”
“Why do you need new surveillance equipment?”
"We're going to monitor my dad's corporate office. His home office has been bugged for months, but it's given us nothing to work with. I need to monitor your dad's office as well, but I haven't found a way in without being detected." Kingston sits up straighter. "Wait a second...I just thought of something."
“What?”
“Peyton’s big birthday bash is coming up, right?”
I can feel the deep crease forming between my brows. “Yeah...and?”
“I need you to find out if Ms. Williams will be gone—if she’s actually leaving the house for once. Knowing Peyton, this party is going to be a rager. I doubt that stuffy-ass woman could tolerate that, but I need to know for sure.”
“So you can get into my father’s office,” I surmise.
“Exactly. It’d be the perfect opportunity. There should be more than enough bodies where I could sneak off unnoticed. Actually, it’d probably be better if I did it before making an appearance. I’ll show up after the party’s been going for a while, maybe around ten or so, place the camera, and then show my face. But I need to know that old bat is out of the house for any of it to work.”
“What about Charles and Madeline?”
"I already know they'll be gone. Peyton's been planning this damn thing for over a year, so I've had the displeasure of listening to her ramble about it more than a few times."
“Fine. But I want something in return.”
“Name it.”
I pop an eyebrow. “Tell me what happened to you last night.”
Kingston’s jaw clenches. “I fight sometimes.”
I’m sure I look as confused as I feel. “I’m going to need you to elaborate on that.”
He blows out a breath. “Sometimes when I’m really pissed...I need to channel the aggression into something else. The only two things that seem to work are fucking and fighting. Since I don’t think the former is going to happen anytime soon, I chose the latter.”
“You can screw whoever you want, Kingston. Don’t let me stop you.”
Kingston's heated gaze travels the length of my body, and I've never felt more like a zebra in a lion's den than I do now. "I'm well aware of my options, Jazz. Just because I can fuck someone else, doesn’t mean I want to." He holds up his left hand. "If you're not on the table, then this'll have to do while I imagine it's your mouth."
Nope. Not going to think