Page 18 of King: Darker Than Romance

I glared at him. I couldn’t believe he thought I would care.

“Ooh, so what you’re telling me is… is some old men are talking about fucking a woman half their age. That’s so unusual.” I rolled my eyes and waved him off.

“Nothing you said means I would allow them to touch me or that I should change my clothes.”

“You want them to look, don’t you? You crave attention like a spoiled child.” He accused, but then to add insult to injury he said, “a child dressed like a whore.”

My mouth dropped open. His ass had lost his mind. “Stop acting like my fucking daddy, King. You aren’t. As a matter of fact, you’re nothing to me, so go fuck yourself.” I said, purely out of anger.

“Eden,” he said my name in a flat tone that warned me I was pushing him too far. I didn’t care. My momma had just told me she would not be paying for me to move to Georgia to attend Spellman like she had promised. He knew something was wrong. Instead of asking me what he could do to help, he wanted to bitch about my clothes. He was infuriating.

I snatched away from the hold he had on me. I pushed myself up from his lap.

His jaw tensed.

“Go change, Eden.” His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“No, Ashford. You don’t get to tell me what to do or what to wear.”

He put the knuckles of his fist to the table and rested his weight on them as he leaned in. “I can tell you whatever I damn well please, Eden. You are mine.”

It took me a moment to process what he’d said.

I scoffed.” The whole “you’re mine” thing is getting out of hand.” It was only cute when he was fucking me. Ignoring him, I made my way to the kitchen counter. I snatched up my purse and keys.

“Where are you going, Eden?”

“Out, Ashford. “I snapped.

“No, you’re not. “He stared with his lips drawn in a thin line, disapproval was written all over his face, but I couldn’t care less. I stared right back, our gazes held, both of us challenging each other.

When he stood, I didn’t make a run for the door because I knew he could easily catch me.

“Mom, James.” I smirked as I yelled for both our parents. They both came into the kitchen at the same time. My momma gave me that look that Black Momma’s give you, the one that says, “you better not start no shit, girl.” She was too busy glaring at me to notice the tension in the room or the fact that her husband was staring at my tits. “I’m going to the park to jog.” I didn’t wait for anyone to respond. I didn’t need their permission. I just needed them in the kitchen so King couldn’t stop me from leaving.

When I got to my car, I started it up. As soon as I backed out of the driveway, I called the one person I knew would be there for me, Ellis. He answered on the first ring. He agreed to meet me even though I hadn’t answered hardly any of his calls in weeks.

I told him to meet me at the park down the street.

Ellis pulled up not long after I did. Soon as I opened my door the balmy Florida heat hit me right in the face. It wasn’t even June yet and it felt like mid-summer. I got out of my car and made my way to his side. His blue eyes were glued my thighs the entire time. He was obsessed with burying his head between them and wrenching multiple orgasms from me and I was obsessed with him doing it. I low-key felt guilty that I had given King my virginity instead of him.

He got out, made his way around the car. Ellis was huge with a thick neck, muscular thighs and big broad shoulders. He looked like a whole Viking, with his long blond hair and ice blue eyes. The khakis and white polo he wore made me roll my eyes. They fit his personality to a fucking tee. Ellis was the type of white boy that the term, “white privilege” was made for. He was from old money; drove an expensive car no eighteen-year-old boy should have, and his future was set. He could go to any Ivy league school he wanted to even though he was graduating forty-second out of a class of one hundred.

Despite all that, I liked him. But in the way a little girl likes her new puppy. As fucked up as it sounds, he was too easy for me. I wanted drama and passion.

His thin bottom lip was trapped between his teeth when I reached him. I walked into his outstretched arms. He leaned down to meet my height and tried to kiss me. I turned my face in time for him to miss my lips. His kiss landed on my cheek. I didn’t feel right about kissing him on the mouth when minutes earlier I’d been kissing King.

I nudged his head back, rose to my tip toes and pressed a soft kiss against his Adam’s apple, eliciting a groan from him. His big hands gripped my waist, massaging the soft flesh. I nipped at his chin and a groan I could feel reverberate throughout my body tore from his throat. He was so easy to please. Why couldn’t I have the same chemistry with him that I had with Ashford? I liked his kisses and personality. I even wanted to fuck him. But there was something about him that kept me from going all in, even before King was in the picture. Or maybe it was my own fucked up issues that kept me from being with him.

His right hand slid under my shirt to palm one of my breasts. His free hand started to disappear under the waistband of my shorts. I shifted away. “Not now.” He pulled me back against him, but just held me, breathing heavy. He kept his hands to himself, though. His erection lay thick against my stomach. My insides tingled, but not like they did when I was with King.

We sighed in unison.

He dropped his forehead to mine, “What happened?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Right there, leaning into him for support. I told him.

“That’s not fair,” he said. “But I think I have the solution.” He righted himself. “Get in.” He opened the door for me to slide in then he made his way to the other side of the car, he opened the door and settled into the driver’s seat.

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