Page 24 of Undone

I bite down on my lip, pick my head up, and stare at the bright television screen. Heat unfurls low in my belly, and King’s here, sitting beside me. His fingers grazing my arm, shooting a ripple of excitement through me, straight to my core. My skin hot beneath his touch, the muscles in my thighs squeezing, pussy throbbing.

I want you.

Sliding his hand up my thigh, cupping me, feeling the heat between my legs. His fingers dip inside my panties, trailing through the wetness, sinking into me.

Ride my hand. I want to feel you come.

Jerking against his palm, his thumb circling my clit, my breath coming in quick pants. I’m so hot for him, his eyes hooded with lust. My muscles tense, and I know I’m about to unravel beneath his touch.

All for him.

Always for him.

Come for me, Juliet.

His voice, a growly command, sends me spiraling over the edge into a blissful abyss, floating away. Every inch of me tingling.

You’re so beautiful. I love to watch you come.

Tears prick at my eyes. More laughter from the television, but I have no idea what’s funny. I’m not watching it, my hand between my legs. Hot and wet, wishing for more. I grind and grind, sinking my fingers inside, trying to find my release.

Over and over again until I’m hot and sweaty from the exertion.

But it’s not there.

I can’t find it. It’s teasing me, just beyond my reach.

King of My Heart: I’m sorry

Aggravated, I give up and slump back against the sofa cushions. The furniture’s a hand-me-down from another waitress at the Tipsy Taco, and the fabric is both ugly and scratchy. Not a winning combination. It’s probably seen a lot of action, too, judging by the wear and tear on the light-green brocade.

The price was right, though, and beggars can’t be choosers.

But they can rise off the sofa and go the hell to bed.

I mash the off button on the remote, and the television goes dark. I cut the light and stand, cell in hand. I take a quick pee, then plug my phone into the charger, leaving King on “Read” with no response.

Not out of spite. I just don’t know what the hell to say.

I wake early. Too early, the room still gray, untouched by the first bright rays of sunlight.

I roll over and check the time on my phone.

Five a.m. What the hell am I doing up at five in the morning? Jagger’s not even awake at this ungodly hour. I stretch in my bed, lengthening my spine, arms above my head. Sucking my stomach in, hollowing out as I stare up at the ceiling.

I should go back to sleep. I’ll be exhausted by the end of my shift tonight, but the memories from yesterday keep coming back. Playing over and over in my mind like a bad pop song.

King of My Heart: I’m sorry

Swinging out of bed, I pull on a pair of cutoff shorts and a white Good Vibes Only T-shirt, then scrounge around for my sneakers. After a quick splash of cool water to my face, I snatch my keys from the side table and head out.

The sky’s moving from jet blue to a more subtle azure, a dark-rinse denim. A few wispy clouds hang low on the horizon, and a seagull cries, warning one of his bird buddies off his fish. I skip down the steps, hop into the SUV, and crank the engine. Mercifully, it roars to life, and I reverse out of the parking spot.

Maybe if I go there, I’ll know what to say.

Our spot.

Out by the lake, ringed by woods. No one could find us all the way out there. Not back then, anyway.