Naughty King (A Sexy Manhattan Fairytale, #1)

Yamada throws his head back in a fit of laughter. “I like you. You and Yamada will get along just fine.”


I glance over at Alexander, who has found a seat at one of the bars. It’s like I can feel his eyes on me, studying every move I make. I’m positive that pushing him away like I did earlier was the best choice for my sanity, not to mention my heart, but it doesn’t stop my stupid body from being drawn to him. It’s going to be a lot harder to ignore his advances now, especially since I know what it’s like to be with him. It’ll be difficult to turn down those intense promises of pleasure because he does a damn fine job of delivering.

I spend the rest of the afternoon dancing and drinking with Yamada, while my brain works on trying to figure out the complex puzzle that is Alexander King—a puzzle that according to Yamada, I don’t have the first fucking clue about.





Alexander

I LAY IN THE MIDDLE bed of this crazy room, trying to relax. I haven’t even had the energy to change out of my board shorts or throw on a shirt. Hanging out at Rehab all day and watching Margo while she pretended I didn’t exist, was fucking brutal. The image of her spread out before me, moaning my name in ecstasy while she came stayed in the forefront of my mind. All I could think about was how much I wanted to experience that again. How I wanted to fuck her again. How I wanted my name on her lips as she loses all control.

It makes me hard right now just thinking about it.

But Margo wouldn’t so much as give me the time of day. Instead, she spent the afternoon laughing at every joke Yamada told and ignored me. Even when I asked her a direct question, all I received were short one-word answers.

It sucks knowing the fact that I’ll probably never have her again, which is completely fucked up considering who I am. I’m Alexander King. I’m not supposed to give a shit about women.

Perhaps fucking her was a bad idea because it sure as hell didn’t get her off my brain. It did the complete fucking opposite. Now I can’t think of anything else, and it’s driving me insane.

The only logical thing I could do was drink—drink to forget.

“Alexander?” Margo’s voice on the other side of the bedroom door pulls me away from my thoughts. “Are you nearly ready to leave for dinner?”

Fuck. I was out longer than I thought, but I’m still drunk. There’s no way I’ll be able to make it.

“I’m not going,” I mutter loud enough for her to hear.

“But, you have to go. Yamada—”

“Will get over it,” I finish for her. “Call him to cancel.”

I roll onto my side and close my eyes, but the sound of my door flinging open and Margo’s high heels clicking across the floor causes my eyes to snap open. “Margo? What are you—?”

Without permission, she leans over the bed, grabs my arm and yanks. “Come on. Get up. You can’t cancel this meeting. I—”

Quickly I reach out and pull her down on the bed with me, causing her to shriek, not caring a bit if I wrinkle the bright-blue dress she’s wearing. “You what? Need this meeting to try to get to know Yamada better?”

She squirms in my arms as she pushes against my chest. “Dammit, King, let me go. If you’re not meeting with him, then I will.”

“It’s not going to work, Margo. You might as well stop trying. Yamada’s my friend. He would never sell out on me. You’re wasting your time.”

She stops fighting for a split second and stares me in the eye. “I have to at least try. I have to at least go for what I want. Don’t you understand that?”

Her words resonate with me so much. I’ve lived by the motto of getting what I want for years now. “More than you know.”

She pushes me away and scrambles out of the bed. “I’m going. With or without you.”

The clicking of her heels against the marble floor echoes around the room. I don’t know where she thinks she’s going, but she’s not going to meet with my contact alone. No way in hell will I allow that to happen.

I’m up in a flash, crossing the room, and the second she grabs the door handle, I wrap my fingers around her wrist. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Her back tenses as I press my chest against it. The feel of the heat of her skin is almost more than I can take. I clutch her hip with my other hand and pull her ass against my cock. I want her to feel how hard I am to show her that I want her again.

Her head falls back slightly, sending her floral scent swarming around me, and there’s a pant in her voice. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

I swipe her hair to the side, exposing her smooth flesh, and then whisper in her ear. “I’m your boss, baby. You’ll do as I say.”

I press my lips against the soft skin under her ear before I playfully nip it, needing desperately for her to give in to me.

The tension in her body loosens as she leans into me. “Damn you. We can’t . . . You said—”

Michelle A. Valentine's books