The King

“It’s not a line. It’s a serious inquiry.”


“Have you tried ‘You have the sexiest blank of any woman I’ve ever been with?’ Doesn’t matter what you put in the blank—they spread for that line every time.”

“I wasn’t using a line on you. And what on earth are you wearing?” Her underwear was plain white cotton with writing on it.

“Days of the week underwear. Today is Friday. These are my Fridays.”

“It’s after midnight—it’s Saturday.”

“This is a problem with Days of the Week undies. If I sleep in them, I never know if I should wear the day I go to bed, or the day I wake up.”

“If you slept naked, you wouldn’t have that problem.”

He traced the center of her back with his palm, grazed her shoulder blades and her neck… He couldn’t believe how slight she felt under his hand. Her personality filled up an entire room. Big treasure. Small package. He knew what they were doing was beyond foolish. She was his assistant. He was her boss. They had to work together. Wouldn’t it be awkward trying to work together if he and Sam had sex? Especially awkward considering she’d never had sex with a man before. And yet, nothing could stop him from wanting her, from wanting to be inside her. She wanted him, too. He knew what arousal looked like, and Sam was undeniably turned on. Her skin was hot, her breathing rapid and ragged, and she’d licked her lips—twice.

He wanted nothing so much as to throw her Fridays on the f loor and stay inside her until next Thursday. When had he become the sort of man who wanted to make love to a woman who wore Days of the Week underwear?

“You’re laughing at me.” Sam stretched out underneath his hand as if wanting more of him.

“I am not.”

“I like it when you laugh at me.” Sam turned over on to her back and Kingsley let his hand rest on her stomach.

“I’m smiling at you. It’s a different thing.”

“I like your smile.”

“You do?”

“Of course. You have the sexiest smile of any man I’ve ever seen.” She winked at him.

“You’re going to get it now,” he said.

“Oh, shit,” she said, laughing and trying to pull away from him.

Sam squealed when he grabbed both her wrists and slammed them into the bed over her head.

“You’re always the one in charge, aren’t you? You top with women, don’t you?”

“Every time,” she said, a little breathless.

“How does it feel being with someone more dominant than you are?”

“Terr if ying.”

“Good terrifying or bad?”

“Both,” she admitted, and Kingsley smiled down at her. He released her wrists but didn’t move from his position over her. No part of him now touched any part of her. But if he lowered himself from his push-up position, he’d be on top of her.

“You look good in my shirt,” he said. “And that’s not a line.”

“What do I have to do to keep it?”

“Pay for it,” he said.

Her eyes widened hugely, and he felt an instant stab of regret.

“I’m sorry,” he said, releasing her wrists. “I forgot—”

“Don’t apologize,” she said. “It’s okay. You’re a man in bed with a woman. I’m not complaining.”

“You aren’t?”

“I’m having fun,” she said. “Promise. I like being in bed with you. How many women in this city wish they were here?”

“Most of them,” Kingsley said.

“I’d tell you, you were arrogant, but that’s probably true. I am the envy of the city tonight being here in your bed.”

“I don’t know,” Kingsley said, caressing her stomach again. He could feel it quivering under his fingers. “Women who want to be in my bed aren’t usually interested in hearing a story and going to sleep.”

“I’m not, either,” Sam said.

Kingsley arched his eyebrow at her.

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

“I get to decide?”

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