Page 54 of Red King

“I came to check on you, and good thing, too…” Arctic starts to say as he closes the space between us. The sound of boots on tiles behind us has us both turning back. Four guards follow us. Another one rushes to join them.

“Can’t I get a moment of fucking peace?” Arctic says under his breath. “Let’s go, Paisley.” He puts a hand on my back and ushers me up the hallway and around the corner. There’s a door up ahead that is labeled “Cleaning Supplies.”

“Stay out here!” he barks at the guards, who nod.

Then he opens the door and gestures for me to go inside.

“What are you doing?” I ask as he turns on the light switch. The space is filled with an array of cleaning materials, from chemicals to mops.

“We need to talk,” he tells me. “Please,” he adds, even though it seems to pain him to do it.

I go inside, and he closes the door, sealing us in. The space suddenly feels tiny. Arctic takes up all of the room. The air thins…or at least, that’s how it feels.

“What is wrong with you?” I can’t believe he’s acting this way. Like I did something wrong. I didn’t. It’s completely out of character; he’s normally so together.

The scent of pine and lemon fills my nose, as well as the scent of him.

“Can you please explain to me why you left that hall? Actually, don’t bother; I can see why you left. You were planning on fucking one of my guards instead of doing your job, is that it, Paisley?”

I gasp because I can’t believe what I’m hearing. The audacity of this man.

“No! That’s not it at all. I can’t believe you followed me to accuse me of—”

“That’s how it looked to me.” His eyes are bright. They have this intense look. His whole body is bristling. His jaw looks like it’s been carved from granite, it’s so tight.

“Why are you even out here? Shouldn’t you be dancing and flirting with that cute blonde? She’s lovely, by the way. That’s where you should be.” I point in the general direction of the hall.

“It’s where you should be doing your damned job,” he snarls.

“I did my job the whole night. Cathy has everything under control. She doesn’t need me. What has gotten into you?” I frown.

“And so, you left early to be with that male.” He’s angry.

Why?

This makes no sense.

“He was escorting me back to my apartment. That’s it!”

“Is that what you’re calling it nowadays? Escorting?”

“Calling what?” I sound just as exasperated as I feel.

“That male wanted to fuck you, and you were accepting his offer. Do you want to be fucked, Paisley?” He steps in close. So close that his button-down shirt brushes against me. Just a hint of a touch. “Answer me. Do. You. Want. To. Be. Fucked?”

“It’s none of your business,” I manage to get out.

“I’m making it my business.” His face is just an inch from mine. His eyes level with mine.

I can’t breathe. I can’t think.

“Fuck it!” he snarls before crushing his lips to mine.

It’s so unexpected that my eyes go wide, and for a second, I want to push him away. I should push him away, the asshole. Only I don’t. Instead, I grip his biceps and moan into his mouth. His body is hot and hard, pressed up against me. His mouth is demanding. I melt into him and whimper, holding onto him like my life depends on it.

My brain turns to mush, and I clutch at him, my knees going weak like a stupid teenager. It’s hot and heavy, and I whimper some more, grinding against him.

He squeezes my breast through the silk of my dress, his thumb brushing over my nipple. His hands are big and hot, and I’m embarrassed when I groan low and deep, even though he’s barely touching me. It’s loud and desperate.

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