King (King #1)(31)
Author: T.M. Frazier

He nodded, and they disappeared into the crowd.

King made his way back to me. “You’re up next,” he said as he approached.

We stood behind the games and gave out my prizes to kids who lost their games one by one until all I had left was the deer King had given me first.

We ate cotton candy. We ate corn dogs. We ate fried Oreos. We laughed like kids. We rode a gravity ride that locked you to the sides as it spun, and for ten minutes afterwards, I thought all the food was going to come back up.

“Here,” King said, pushing a cup in front of me. “Grace says that a ginger ale is the best cure for an upset stomach.”

I slowly sipped the bubbly drink, and I started to feel better almost instantly. King grabbed my cup and walked a few steps to toss it in the trash when I noticed a nearby woman ogling him.

I looked around, and it seemed like every woman at the fair, whether she was with a man or not, was undressing King with her eyes.

“Do they all have to do that?” I muttered under my breath.

“Does all who have to do what?” King asked.

“Do all the women have to look at you like they want to jump your bones?” I scoffed.

King put an arm around me. His lips brushed my ear when he whispered, “Unlike some people, they aren’t hiding what they want.” I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t find the words. “It’s cute that you’re jealous though.”

“I’m not—”

“Time for the Ferris wheel,” King announced. It was getting late, and the crowd had thinned.

“Why did we save it for last?” I asked.

“Because it’s the best part,” King said. “You always save the best for last.”

King helped me into the squeaky cart while the carnival worker closed the little door to the bucket. There was barely enough room on the seat for the two of us. When I shoved my deer between us, King picked it up and handed it to the carnie, along with a bill from his pocket. “Take care of this for me until we get down will ya?”

“Sure thing, man!” He set the deer on the chair next to the ride’s control panel.

King rested his arm on the back of the seat over my shoulder.

Then, we were lifting up into the air. Higher and higher we rose, stopping every so often to allow for other riders to board. Once we were almost at the top, we started to move more fluidly. Round and round we went, watching the city lights beneath us flicker and glow.

“Wow,” I said, watching the people scurry around below. “They all look like ants from up here.” I glanced over at King but he wasn’t looking at the lights of the city or at the crowd.

He was looking at me.

The depth of his stare pinned me to the seat. “Pup, what I learned from being in prison is that we’re all just a bunch of ants.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean we’re all scurrying around, doing insignificant bullshit. We get this one life. ONE. And we spend too much time doing shit we don’t want to do. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to be remembered as the notorious Brantley King.”

“Then, how do you want to be remembered?”

“I don’t. I want to be forgotten.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“I do. I used to want to go out in a blaze of glory. Now, I just want to live in my house, fish on a weekday, and tattoo when the mood strikes. And when it’s my time to go, I want to fade out like the ending of a movie and be quickly forgotten.”

“That sounds lonely.”

“Not if you’re with me, it won’t be.”

“Please, you already told me that I’m gone the second you get tired of me.” I laughed.

King wasn’t laughing. “I’m serious. What if I said I changed my mind? What if I wanted you to stay for real?”

I shook my head. “I wouldn’t know what to say to that. I don’t even know if you mean that or not.” I sighed. “It’s just not that simple. You know that I have to look out for her.”

“Fuck that. Fuck HER,” King said, raising his voice. “As I said, we get this one life. One. As of right this fucking second, I’m no longer going to spend it doing anything other than what I want to do. I don’t want to grow old and look back and realize that I may have had a life, but I forgot to live it.” King brushed his lips against mine. “Are you with me, pup?”

“What are you doing?” I asked, my breath shallow and quick. King leaned into me and kissed the spot behind my ear, his lips igniting my skin. I felt the kiss to my very core, and I trembled.

“After everything, you still have no idea. Do you?”

“No idea of what?” I panted.

No sooner were the words out of my mouth than his lips crashed onto mine. His kiss was harsh and demanding. His tongue parted my lips, gaining entrance into my mouth, licking and dancing with my own. I moaned into him.

I was on fire. King’s hand slipped up under my dress and found the place where I was already wet and ready for him. He groaned and pressed a finger into me, his thick cock nudged my thigh. He ran a hand up my neck and fisted a handful of my hair, turning me up to him so he could gain better access to my mouth while his fingers pushed in and out of me. I clenched around him, my orgasm building, when he suddenly pulled away.

“Why did you stop?” I asked, flustered, my legs still parted for him.

“Because, pup, the ride’s over.”

I hadn’t even noticed that we were at the bottom. The carnival worker came over and let us out of the bucket. I adjusted my dress and stood on shaky legs while King retrieved my deer.

We walked to the parking lot in complete silence.

We passed some sort of tool shed on our way to the bike. King suddenly grabbed me and dragged me into the shadows, pinning me hard against the wall of the shed.

“This is the last time I’m going to ask you this, pup. Do you want me?” King asked, his lips finding mine again, asking the same question with his demanding kiss. My skin came alive and danced with anticipation. “I can’t stay away from you anymore. I tried, and I can’t do it. I want you. I need you to tell me all that hesitation bullshit is over and that I can have you. Stop being alive, and start living.” He pulled a hairs’ breadth away and sought the answer in my face.

“Yes,” I answered breathlessly. Because it was true. Every part of me wanted him. I’d been fighting it for too long for reasons that the longer I was around him seemed less and less important. “I want to be alive.”

“I want you so fucking bad,” King said, pinning me to the wall with his hips pressed against mine. His erection hard and ready against my core. My dress was up around my waist. Only his jeans and my panties separated us.

“Why do you call me pup?” I asked breathlessly while he lifted the sides of my dress so his hands could dip into the back of my panties. He dug his fingers into my ass cheeks and I gasped.

“Because when I first saw these wide, innocent eyes, you looked like a lost puppy dog.”

I was disappointed with the comparison to a puppy, especially after Preppy had called me a stray.

“And,” he continued, “I knew at that very moment when you stood in my doorway, that I wanted to keep you.”

He emphasized his statement with a thrust of his hips. I let out a guttural moan, and he laughed softly into my ear, his tongue licking and sucking along my jaw line and back to my mouth.

“Not here” he said, pulling away from me and adjusting my dress back down to cover my ass.

He led me back to his bike, making quick work of putting on my helmet. When I hopped on behind him and wrapped my arms around him, I felt him shudder under my touch. I let my hands slip just under his belt onto the bare flesh of his abs, and I heard him groan over the roar of the engine.

He wanted me.

Whoever that was.

And I wanted him.

As crazy as that was.

At least for the night, I wasn’t going to think about what the girl with the memories would do, the girl who I tried to please on a daily basis. I was going to be selfish, and I was only going to think about what I wanted.

Who I wanted.

I’d made the decision to live.

Chapter Twenty

Doe

When we pulled up to the house, I didn’t expect to see a party in full swing. Bikes lined the street, blocking our entrance to the property. King drove past them and turned onto another small dirt path I hadn’t noticed before that led us right up to the garage.

King parked the bike and cut the engine. I took my helmet off and passed it to him so he could set it on the seat.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“It seems my hospitality is being taken advantage of,” he muttered. King dragged me into the house by my hand and up the stairs to the main floor. In the living room, we passed a bunch of bikers standing around, watching an older, dark-skinned woman bounce up and down naked on the lap of a boy who looked younger than me, his pants around his feet. The patch on his vest read PROSPECT. His face was turned up to the ceiling, his eyes hooded in ecstasy, his mouth partially open.

“King!” Bear shouted, motioning to him. “Come over here, and watch this. Billy’s just popped his cherry.”