King of Me (26 page)

“Have fun.”

Becca disappeared out the door, and I sat there staring at my laptop screen. I closed my eyes and flung my head back on the couch. Honestly, the only thing I wanted was to feel nothing.

Whiskey.

Yes, great choice.

I got up from the couch and dug through Becca’s cupboards, finding only a bottle of white wine. “Shit, Becca. Really?”

I looked down at my ratty tee shirt and sweats and thought it over.
You can do this, Mia. You can pretend for one night that you’re not dead inside
. Not to mention, they’d have real alcohol at the club.

~~~

An hour later, I found myself walking past a long line of stylishly dressed people toward the entrance of the dance club. The bouncer, a large man with a shaved head, wearing a red tee and jeans, looked me over. I wore a short, backless black dress I’d borrowed from Becca’s closet and red Manolo heels. I had my blonde hair pulled back into a sleek bun at the nape of my neck and added gold hoop earrings. I’d also managed to throw on a little mascara and shimmery pink gloss. I didn’t feel human, but I looked like one again.

The bouncer took my pass and let me inside, where the loud music blissfully drowned out the sound of my own thoughts. I stood at the entrance for a few minutes, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness and flashing lights. The club was packed with wall-to-wall sweating bodies gyrating to the hypnotic, invigorating bass beat.

I felt my blood pressure shoot up.
I can’t do this.
I turned toward the door and felt a soft hand grip my wrist. “Mia! Ohmygod! I can’t believe it!” Becca squealed and hugged me tightly.

“I—uh…don’t think I’m staying,” I screamed over the music.

She frowned. “Like hell you’re leaving! Come on.” She dragged me through the crowd to a small table toward the back where her friends—I couldn’t remember their names—a blonde and two brunettes—sat with five guys. They were doing tequila shots and laughing.

“Everyone! Look who’s here!” Becca pushed me down into a seat. I smiled politely and made a little wave. The guy next to me, with a brown buzz cut and big blue eyes, immediately scooted closer. Becca shoved a full shot glass into my hand and said, “Mia, this is Grant. Grant, Mia!”

“Nice to meet you.” He grinned. “Come here often?”

I resisted rolling my eyes and instead threw back the shot.

“Let me get you another!” he said, speaking loudly. He handed me another drink from the full tray at the center of the table.

Becca leaned down and spoke into Grant’s ear, no doubt giving him some sort of instructions, such as, “Whatever you do, make sure she has fun and doesn’t leave.”

After five shots, I felt the weight of my anxiety lifting and the ache in my heart numb just a bit.

Bliss. I reached for another shot.

“Hey,” said Grant, “not that I’m opposed to your getting hammered or anything, but you might want to slow down.”

I was about to snap at him, but when I looked into his big blue eyes, they reminded me of King. “Do you want to dance?”

“Sure.”

I took his hand and negotiated our way to the middle of the floor. Grant wasted no time at all placing his hands on my hips and pressing his body to mine.

I lifted my arms and closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation of our bodies moving together in a primal, erotic rhythm. I couldn’t help but fantasize they were King’s large hands on my body, his muscular arms gripping me to him, grinding our hips intimately together.

When I opened my eyes, however, it wasn’t King. It was Grant, his handsome face not possessing even a tenth of the beauty.

“Miss Turner.” I heard that deep, dark voice from behind me. I whipped my head around and felt my body lock up.

Standing in front of me, angular, unshaven jaw ticking with anger, was a towering mass of lean hard muscles draped in a sleek black suit.

“King?” I gasped.

His brilliant blue eyes bored into me with utter fury.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“What. The. Fuck. Are
you
doing here?” His eyes flashed for a moment over to Grant.

“Uhh…” I blinked.

King leaned forward and spoke into my ear. “As usual, Miss Turner, I am wondering how I’ve managed to get myself an assistant who lacks the ability to speak.”

“Hey, is this guy bothering you?” asked Grant.

I looked at Grant and saw the irritation in his eyes. He didn’t know who the hell he was messing with. King could cut him down in a heartbeat.

“Um, no. This is my…”
Fuck. What do I say?
“This is my boss. I’ll see you over at the table in a minute.”

Grant nodded slowly and disappeared in the crowd.

King grabbed my wrist, and the moment he touched me, jarring images bombarded my mind. Memories of him and I on the beach, of the two of us in that hotel room in Edinburgh where he’d crawled inside my body, of us…lying together in his bed, surrounded by a pool of my own blood…

I tried to pull away, but King had his iron grip placed strategically over my “K” tattoo. He leaned in close and whispered something strange into my ear, but it felt like his words simply passed right through me. Then my wrist began to burn like hell. I tried to jerk it away, but King stared into my eyes and held on tight.

“You will stop fighting,” he commanded.

I couldn’t believe it. Even now, even with him back in a human body, he still had the power to control me.

Well, why the hell not?
After all, it had never been his curse or his incorporeal state that had given him power. He had his abilities in spite of them, to overcome them.
He’s probably more powerful now that he doesn’t have a handicap.

“There. It is done,” King snarled.

“What’s done? What’re you doing here?”

He grabbed my arm and dragged me to the back of the club, through a back door, into a dark stairwell.

I looked up at his beautiful face with thick black stubble and sensual lips.

“What are you doing here with that man?” he growled.

“You don’t own me, King. I can be here if I want.”

“I don’t own you?” He laughed that deep, sadistic chuckle into the air.

I jerked my arm away. “No. You don’t.”

His smile melted away, and a predatory gaze took over.

It was a look that made my heart race with fear. I stepped back, and fury filled his eyes.

“You are afraid of me?” he asked.

Holy shit.
“Yes.”

He ran his hand through his hair.

“I thought you were cured,” I said.

“Cured? Of what? Of my torment? Of my memories, Miss Turner?”

“Mia. For fuck’s sake, my name is Mia!” I punched his chest.

He looked down at the spot and grinned wolfishly.

“Yes,” he said slowly, “and we had a deal; you are mine.”

“You left me! And our deal is over. Way, way over!”

“I did not leave you. I had to take care of a few things.”

“You mean kill some people?” I yelled.

“What the fuck do you think, Miss Turner? You are mine. No one touches what’s mine.” He reached for me and pulled me into him. His lips crashed into mine, and his hot tongue delved into my mouth. His taste, his heat, his smell overwhelmed me.

I wanted to fight him, but my body didn’t have the strength to resist what it so badly needed. He spun our bodies around and pinned me against the wall with his hard frame. His hands reached between us, freeing his hard cock, and then grabbed for my thighs. He lifted me up and positioned me just right. “Slide your panties aside,” he growled.

Longing for his thick, long shaft to extinguish that hollow, erotic ache, my fumbling hand removed the barrier, and King thrust the silky head of his cock inside me.

Heaven and sin, lust and love. Feeling King plunging himself into my needy body felt like all of those.

He groaned with a deep masculine breath and pounded into me with fierce hard strokes that stole my breath. This wasn’t like the time he’d taken me in Athens, nor was this like the time he’d first made love to me on that beach after having thought he’d lost me. This time, he claimed me, each penetration of my soft needy flesh a reminder that only his cock could deliver what I needed, and no one could make me feel like he could.

My muscles contracted with that rapturous, almost unbearable tension, and my nipples hardened to sharp tingly points. Meanwhile, King’s hard frame flexed and pushed as his hips hammered into me. “Come for me, Mia. Come hard.”

I couldn’t hold back any longer. Every muscle in my body flexed, preventing me from moving as the release tore through. King’s head bowed back, and he leaned his hips forward, thrusting the tip of his cock as deeply as it could go. His throaty groan was so male and primal, so sexy, that the mere sound triggered another euphoric contraction.

For several moments, we clung to each other, and I savored the sensation of his erection pulsing inside me, releasing those final drops of cum.

He moved his lips to mine, and our panting breaths mixed the air and heat from our lungs.

“God, I missed you, Mia,” he whispered.

Mia. I was Mia again.

My head slowly drifted down from the sinful place he’d taken me as King applied lazy, sensual kisses to the corner of my mouth.

I didn’t want to come back to earth, but it couldn’t be helped.

“King, please, put me down.”

He stilled for a moment, resting his forehead to mine, but then pulled out and slowly lowered me.

I yanked down my dress while he put himself back into his pants and straightened his blue silk tie. The knot was crooked, but I didn’t say anything. The little imperfection in his appearance felt comforting somehow, a reminder that he was no longer the cursed man who demanded perfection.

But he’s still King.
I couldn’t help but be in awe.

He flashed one of those wolfish, sly grins. “Like what you see, Miss Turner?”

I ignored his arrogant little comment. “Why are you here?”

His black silky brows knitted together. “I am many things, woman, but a welsher I am not.” His blue eyes flashed to my wrist.

I held up my arm and noticed the missing “K.” Hagne’s spit tattoo remained, however.

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“We made a deal. You would give me one night of what I wanted, and I would give you your freedom.” It was a deal we’d made a while back, long before my trip to Minoa.

“But my nightmares of the blood and the things you did to—”

“Those were not
your
nightmares, Mia; they were my memories. With the curse lifted, I must now deal with three thousand years of them.”

My eyes drifted back to my wrist. “I was seeing
your
thoughts?”

He nodded. “I did not realize it at first, but the facts spoke for themselves. You are too strong a woman to allow the past to consume you as it does me.”

I cupped my hands to my mouth. “I’m so sorry, King.” He’d suffered enough as it was, and now hearing that his past, his guilt, would continue to haunt him…well, it was profoundly unfair.

He stared at me with those fierce blue eyes. “Yes, well.” He cleared his throat. “I hope that with time, my old memories will be replaced by new ones. Speaking of, Miss Turner. It is now time for you to choose.”

“Choose what?”

“You and I made a deal, and it still stands. I said I would free you to make your own choice in exchange for,” his eyes swept over my body, “getting what I wanted. And that was one hell of a fuck.”

This was his way of asking if I still wanted him. It was such a King move.

I stepped in closer and gazed up at that perfectly masculine face. “I’m not sure.”

His blue eyes widened a bit. “Not…sure?” he growled.

I reached for his tie, pinning him with my eyes. “I might need another…fuck.”

The side of his mouth turned up. “Perhaps we can renegotiate our deal, then.” His voice was deep and seductive.

“Yes. But,” I wiggled the knot of his tie and planted a sensual kiss on his full lips, “you should know I’m already spoken for by a dangerous, sexy man.”

King grinned. “I can take him. Rumor has it, the man is a bit…old.”

I laughed. “Crazy-old. My great-grandfather’s socks are spring chickens compared to him.”

A subtle twinkle of joy sparkled in his eyes, and he slowly lowered his slightly swollen lips to mine. “I love you, Mia.”

I felt the tears welling in my eyes. “I love you, too.”

He pulled back. “Then it is settled.”

My eyes shifted a bit. “What?”

“You have chosen, so do not think of welshing. You know what will become of you if you do.” He tugged me back inside the club, and we bumped into Becca as he dragged me toward the front door.

“Mia?” she said.

I waved at her as her jaw dropped. “Is that King?” she mouthed.

I nodded and made a phone sign with my hand to tell her I’d call later.

Once outside, King walked over to a very expensive-looking, black Mercedes sedan with tinted windows. He opened the passenger door and turned around.

“Get in,” he said.

“Where are we going?”

“To put the past where it belongs and make new memories. We start tonight with a clean slate.”

I took a moment to digest the sight of this tall, deadly, elegant man who’d lived over three thousand years, ruled an ancient civilization, died, and had come back to life, now standing next to the car, waiting for me like an eager puppy. Not in a million years could I have imagined that we’d make it. But here we were. I wanted to cry and laugh and kiss him and scream and…

“For fuck’s sake, Mia. Are you going to stand there all night?” The stern look in his eyes and those muscles flexing beneath his black-stubbled jaw indicated he was about to carry me off if he had to.

I laughed. “You are going to have to work on your impatient streak, King. And that mouth. Jeez. Don’t let my mother hear you talking like that.”

He grinned and dipped his head in a way that indicated he might make me pay for that little comment. I was really looking forward to it.

EPILOGUE