Just My Luck (The Kings)

I stood in the dimly lit kitchen, thankful that Ben had cried out when Tillie put him in a headlock. Sloane navigated the sibling quarrel with a firm but loving hand. She was a badass and certainly didn’t need my help. Still, I quietly operated in the background, cleaning up from dinner and tidying the rest of the house to keep myself busy.

I opted to stay behind when the kids begged to take their ice-cream sandwiches and go for a walk. I needed space to breathe. Space away from Sloane and how her mere presence was making me question everything.

I didn’t need her sunny smiles or passionate kisses or fiery looks from across a garden.

What I needed was her money.

A sick, oily feeling settled in my stomach.

Was I using her? Was I the same kind of man my father had become?

My track record was far from spotless, and I had made so many mistakes, but I couldn’t imagine ever hurting her.

I’d die first.

Sloane and I had set boundaries in place, but we were both all too eager to stomp all over them the second we had a moment alone. Thankfully, with two seven-year-olds, quiet moments alone were few and far between.

I made myself scarce the rest of the evening by watering the garden and tidying the mulch around the beds. When the soft glow from the bathroom illuminated the backyard, I safely retreated into the house, assuming Sloane was getting herself ready for bed.

From the hall closet, I pulled down the pillow and blanket I’d been using and tossed it on the couch. My back was already fucking killing me from the cramped sleeping quarters, but I had slept on worse.

The house was quiet when I removed my clothes, slipped into a pair of gray sweatpants, and stretched out on the couch. I stared at the ceiling and focused on my breathing.

In for four. Hold. Out for four.

My shoulders bunched tight as I shifted on the lumpy sofa. My feet dangled off the end as I tried to adjust and get comfortable. With my arms crossed, I stared at the ceiling.

I’d give my left nut for that fucking caveman bed right now.

Closing my eyes, I tried again.

In for four. Hold. Out for four.

A creak in a hallway floorboard snagged my attention. My eyes whipped open, but I stilled, listening to whoever might be coming down the hallway.

Soft footsteps padded down the hall toward the main living space. I strained to hear anything over my own heartbeat. In the darkness, I barely made out Sloane’s shape as she came into view.

Even in the darkness, I could see her skin illuminated by the moonlight that shone through the back windows. Dressed in only an oversize T-shirt, Sloane’s smooth legs were on full display. Her hair was up in a messy knot, and my eyes devoured the smooth lines of her skin, from the top of her thighs to her bare feet.

She paused just after exiting the hallway. Her shoulders turned toward me. My eyes slammed shut and I leveled my breathing. I could hear her footsteps getting closer as I pretended to be asleep. Her soft breathing was just above me. For a moment I wasn’t sure if I should open my eyes or wait to see what she was up to.

Slowly, I felt the blanket tug up my chest as Sloane rearranged it on top of me. My feet popped out of the bottom, and Sloane’s soft chuckle was a lance to my ribs. With a gentle sigh, she let the blanket slip from her fingertips.

Before she could leave, I snagged her wrist.

Her soft gasp filled the living room as I gently thumbed the thin skin of her wrist.

My eyes moved to hers. “Thank you.”

She smiled down at me, not pulling away from my touch. Her voice was soft and low. “You look ridiculous on this couch, and that blanket isn’t big enough.”

I continued to stroke her arm. “I make do.” In the moonlight, Sloane was luminous. “Can’t sleep?”

A single dimple winked in the low lighting. “Thirsty.”

I shifted, hoisting myself to sitting as she took a step back. Bare-chested, I adjusted my sweatpants before standing and tossing the blanket onto the couch. Sloane’s chin tipped up to hold my stare.

“Can I ask you something?” Her shy eyes were downcast.

“Anything.”

She finally looked at me. “At dinner when you were finished . . . Why did you knock on the table before you got up?”

I studied her face. “I didn’t realize I did that.” With a soft sigh, I continued, “Old habit—something I learned in prison. You knock to let others know you’re just getting up to leave and not starting shit. It’s also a sign of respect.”

Her features went soft and she smiled. “Thank you.”This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

As we stood in silence, I let my eyes wander and soak up the sight of her. Messy hair, sleepy eyes, and her T-shirt—my T-shirt—stopping dangerously high on her thighs.

I smirked. “Nice shirt.”

Sloane gently tugged at the hem, which barely covered her ass. Her lips rolled. “Busted.”

Shaking my head, I laughed, stifling it so I wouldn’t wake the kids. I moved past her toward the kitchen. She followed as I pulled down a glass and filled it with ice water. Sliding the cup toward her, I reveled in her beauty.

Her slim fingers surrounding the glass, she held it to her lips and took a sip. “You shouldn’t look at me like that.”

I swallowed hard. “Like what?”

I knew exactly how I was looking at her.

Sloane slid the glass away, then leaned on the island. “Like you’re up to no good.”

I let my smile spread, slow and easy. “I’m just looking at my wife and wondering how the hell I got here.”

Her hand fidgeted with a stray piece of hair. Goose bumps prickled on her forearm, and I watched as her nipples peaked beneath the loose fabric of my shirt.

I moved forward. “You like that, don’t you?” I stepped into her space, keeping my voice low. “When I call you my wife?”

She swallowed and lifted her chin with a glint of mischief in her eyes. “I might.”

Heat thrummed beneath my skin. My cock ached to feel her. Wanting Sloane the way I did was delusional, but there was no denying that she was standing right in front of me—a willing participant in whatever was developing between us.

It’s wrong. So wrong.

But what if I want to be selfish? To have her for a little while?

My fingertips played with the hemline of the T-shirt. Her soft thighs moved under my touch. “You’re my wife, Sloane.” I drew circles as I indulged in the smoothness of her skin. “You’re mine for as long as I can keep you.”

Sloane’s head tipped back and her legs scissored. I wanted nothing more than to drop to my knees to see just what waited beneath that T-shirt. Before I could, Sloane’s hands planted against my chest.

With a wicked look in her eye, she walked me backward until I was pressed against the opposite countertop. Her nails gently raked across my chest and stomach, sending chills racing through me. My dick throbbed under her touch.

Never breaking eye contact, Sloane started to drop to her knees.

I gripped her elbow to stop her. “What are you doing?”

“I told you”—she licked her lips—“I am going to be the best wife you’ve ever had.”

Sloane sank to her knees. Her fingertips toyed with the hemline of my sweatpants as my breaths sawed in and out of me. I glanced down the hallway. “The kids?”

Sloane smiled up at me, her dimples deepening. “Fast asleep. If you hear one coming, just tap me on the head or something.” She quietly giggled as if that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard herself say.

My jaw clenched, and I hissed when she pulled the gray tie of my pants with her teeth. Her eyes were full of mischief as she took her time, rubbing my aching cock through the material.

Yes. Fuck, yes.

My eyes nearly rolled to the back of my head. I shifted my weight, widening my hips and settling into my stance. Achingly slowly, Sloane freed my cock.

For a moment she stared before whispering, “Holy shit.”

I gripped the base, squeezing. “We don’t have to do anything.” It nearly killed me to get the words out, but I meant them.

Sloane’s hands ran over my hips. “I want it. It’s just . . . wow. I figured it would be big after I saw you walking to the bathroom this morning, but . . .” She rubbed her palms together, warming them. “This is going to take a team effort.”

A spark of humor warmed my chest. Sloane was so different from me, never taking herself or life too seriously. I ached for her lightness. Her positivity.

A tingle ran through me when she leaned in, brushing her lips across the side of my cock. She wrapped one hand around the base of my erection and brushed the crown across her lips. Her mouth opened, and I watched intently as she dragged her tongue under the head.

My dick twitched as her mouth closed over me, teasing the tip. She moaned as she leaned in, taking more of me. The vibration rattled through me. Sloane stroked and sucked as I watched my cock move in and out of her mouth. Her lips stretched around me, and I had to focus to keep from pumping hard into her. She used her hands to keep a firm grip at my base and set a torturous pace. Wet with her spit, Sloane took me as deeply as she could, and the tip of my cock hit the back of her throat.

A rumbling moan seeped out of me.

From her knees, Sloane looked up at me with a smile. “Shh.” She licked her lower lip and lifted an eyebrow. “If we’re interrupted, then I have to stop.”

I growled down at her. “Then don’t be so fucking good at this.”

With a satisfied chuckle, Sloane pulled me back into her mouth. One hand dipped between my legs, teasing my balls as she sucked and stroked. My hands gripped the counter so tightly I thought it might break. I was dangerously close to coming as she worked my cock with her hands and mouth.

Too soon.

It would be over too soon, and I wanted this moment to last.

My fingertips tangled in her hair as I palmed her face. “Hey.”

Her doe eyes looked up at me. Her lips stretched around my cock as she kept me in her mouth.

“I want more,” I said.

She released me. “More?”

I lifted her by the elbow and pressed her body into mine, holding her close. In her ear, I whispered, “I want you to ride my face while you choke on my cock. I want you to do it all while you stifle your screams into my pillow.”

She pulled back to look at me, my hard cock pressed between us.

“Yes, boss.” She took one step back, moving a hand across her chest and disappearing below the hemline of her shirt. “But if you want this, you’ll have to come and get it.”

Her eyebrow lifted as she took two steps back. With a playful look, she lifted the bottom of her shirt, flashing me the tiniest glimpse of her naked body.

With a stifled squeal, she took off running down the hallway toward the primary bedroom.

Fucking brat.

I grinned and stomped after her so I could show her how a real caveman does it.