Page 72 of King

Amara smoothed out the dress she had chosen for the funeral and walked toward the closet. “It was just a nice day. I haven’t had one of those in a long time.” She hesitated before glancing at him. “Can I hang my dress up in here?”

King frowned. “Stop asking me those kinds of questions.”

She blinked at him. “What?”

“I told you...do whatever you need to do. What’s mine is yours.” His voice was firm, but there was something softer in his expression. Something that made her breath catch.

“Sorry,” she said, offering him a small smile. “Still trying to get used to that.”

After hanging her dress, she returned to her bag, pulling out the rest of her clothes. She hated wearing the same thing over and over again.

“That drawer over there.” King nodded toward the bottom left one. “It’s empty.”

She looked up at him, standing against the wall, arms crossed, watching her with that intense gaze that made her feel like the only person in the world. She quickly put her stuff away and then sat on the bed.

“If you don’t sleep, why do you have a bed?” The words flew out before she could stop them, and the second she saw King’s eyebrow lift, heat rushed to her cheeks.

“Oh,” she mumbled, then stood up quickly.

King chuckled, the deep, rich sound sending a shiver down her spine. He tilted his head, eyes locked onto hers with amusement. “Oh… what?”

Amara shrugged, glancing at the bed again as if it held all the answers to the questions she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask. “Have you had a lot of… people in here?”

God, that sounded stupid.

Her teeth sank into her lip as she winced at her own awkwardness. She had meant women, of course, but she didn’t want to say that outright. Yet, the thought had lodged itself in her mind like a sharp, unwelcome thorn. She knew what he was and what he looked like. King was dark, dangerous, and devastatingly attractive. She could only imagine the sheernumber of women who had been tangled in those sheets. The thought made something uncomfortable twist inside her. Jealously nipped at her soul, making her snort at herself and want to burn the damn bed. Yeah, maybe she didn’t actually want to know.

King arched a brow. “People?” His voice held quiet amusement. “Or women?”

She groaned, covering her face with her hands for a second before dropping them. “It sounded better in my head. Where it should have stayed.”

King just chuckled as he watched her.

Spinning toward the door, she muttered, “Ignore that. I’m going to see if Joey wants something to eat.” A terrible excuse, considering they had eaten barely an hour ago, but she needed an escape before she embarrassed herself further.

Before she could take another step, King’s hand wrapped gently around her wrist, stopping her in place.

“I haven’t lived here long,” he said, his voice low and firm. “And Sloan keeps us so busy that I haven’t been with a woman for a while.”

Her breath caught as he reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek with the softest touch.

“You are the only woman ever in this bed, Amara.” His dark eyes burned into hers, filled with something profound, something raw. “And you’ll be the last.”

“Oh,” A sharp exhale left her lips. Dammit. There it was again...that stupid word that wasn’t even a real response. Shefrowned at herself before shaking her head. “You didn’t have to tell me that, King. It’s none of my business.”

His lips curved in the barest of smiles before he leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against hers. “Yes, I did,” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke. “And yes, it is.”

Her body melted into his as his strong arms wrapped around her, cocooning her in warmth. She pressed her cheek against his chest, breathing him in. For a moment, nothing else existed.

“What are you guys doing up there?” Joey’s voice echoed up the stairs, shattering the moment.

King sighed against her hair, muttering a curse before pulling back just enough to press a kiss to the top of her head.

“Is he too old to have a bedtime?” he grumbled.

Amara laughed, burying her face against his chest. If only.

They headed downstairs, settling in to watch a movie with Joey. Of course, they pickedTommy Boy,which was their all-time favorite. When King admitted he had never seen it, both she and Joey had gawked at him like he had committed a crime. King had only shrugged, saying he didn’t really watch TV, which to Joey was totally unacceptable.

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