I heard them making distressed and horrified yelps.
“What the fuck, Kings?”and “Hell!” and “He set the whole damn thing on fire, didn’t he?”
“Does this fucking look like I have a roster?” he shouted, turning the burning shard around on his fingers. “Fuck rosters!”
They started backing away nervously.
“That wasn’t very responsible and upright,” I pointed out as I stomped out the fire with my boots. “Pretty sure setting your cellphone on fire is the opposite of the vibe Cornelius was going for.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’m not going to be confronted with people asking about the dumbass roster.”
He took my hand and began to drag me down the street to the hotel.
A beautiful redheaded woman came bouncing up with a pen out, jutting her massive breasts into Kingsley’s face.
“Oh my god, I’m such a fan! Sign me pleasseeeee. I’ll never wash my breasts again!”
This couldn’t help but make me laugh, but Kingsley was already shaking his head vigorously.
“I don’t do that shit anymore. I’m going to marry this woman beside me, so I’ll sign the back of your hand, that’s it. Spread the word. I don’t do that anymore.”
She pouted, but he grabbed the pen, scribbled his name, then pulled me into the hotel.
“This is a new development,” I said.
“Baby, I’m not going to miss random tits at all.”
Kings put his arms around me, finding my lips with his, fingers spanning my throat.
“You’re all I want.”
It was what I had always dreamed of—I just didn’t know if I could trust him.
“How am I supposed to believe you?” I demanded. “Considering you’re routinely full of shit.”
“Let me show you.”
The elevator button dinged and he threaded his fingers in mine.
“The second I stood to lose you, going knee deep in a bunch of random pussy lost its fucking charm.”
“Hmmm,” was all I said.
“Cornelius, are you doing something new with your hair?” I asked as we walked into the hotel suite. “It’s so thick and lustrous.”
Kingsley froze for a second, then I heard a low, dangerous noise from his throat.
“Oh, hell no. Hell no,” he growled. “Over my dead fucking body.”
“I do what I want,” I said, my lips curving up.
But he was already scooping me up in his arms and carrying me into the bedroom, kicking the door shut and tossing me onto the bed.
I felt that tension crackle between us, the heat igniting my skin like a flame.
“Stopdenying you’re mine. We belong to each other.”
He pounced on top of me, kissing me so deeply that I felt breathless, our tongues tangling together with way more desperation than he’d ever shown before. Usually he was lazy, cocky, confident. Now his motions were jerky and urgent, his hands clutching at me with desperate need.
