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Both King and the baseball bat were covered in blood.

*     *     *

King tore out of the parking lot. When we hit the highway, he pulled off on the first exit and parked the truck under an overpass that was under construction. My heart was beating in my chest, quick and heavy.

Thud. Thud.

Thud. Thud.

The light of the moon shone through the front window, making the dried blood on his forehead look like it was shimmering.

“What the fuck just happened?” I shrieked, unbuckling my seat belt.

“Business,” King said with no discernable emotion.

“You’re covered in blood! Did you kill…whoever it was?”

“No, I didn’t, but he’ll think twice about fucking with my shit again.”

“Who was that?”

“Someone who used to roll with Isaac. Preppy found out he was the nark who told Isaac about our granny operation. He needed to learn a lesson. He doesn’t need to be running his mouth when he doesn’t know shit about shit.” King ran his hand over his head. “About starting wars that don’t need to be started.”

“Is that what’s going to happen? A war?” I asked. “What are we going to do?”

“There won’t be a war if I can help it. I’ve reached out to Isaac’s people, asked for a meet. I want to get in front of this thing before it gets any worse.” King turned to me. “You’re not going to do anything. I’ve got this handled. And you should not be worried about any of this. I promise that nothing will happen to you. I told you I’d protect you, and I meant it.”

“You think I’m worried about myself? Preppy’s car got literally blown up. Bear lives in the garage ten feet away. You’ve got a guy, a dangerous guy by the sound of it, after you, and you think it’s ME I’m worried about!?” I huffed. “How fucking selfish do you think I am?”

“You’re worried about me, pup?” King teased, cocking an eyebrow.

“No! I mean yes. Why are you so fucking irritating?” I yelled. King cut the engine. “And why are we parked under a—”

King interrupted my tirade by grabbing my hips and roughly sliding me down until the back of my head landed on the bench seat.

“I love that you worry about me,” he said, covering my body with his, his mouth crashing down against mine. His were lips soft and full, but hard and needy at the same time. “Your lips are so fucking sexy. I’ve imagined them wrapped around my cock a thousand times.” He slid a hand underneath my shirt, cupping my breast, kneading it with his palm. “I love your perfect fucking tits.” His knee parted my legs, and he settled between them. His hard cock rested against an area that was already hot and wet with need. “I can’t wait to be inside you.” He trailed his lips to my neck where he licked and sucked and teased while he rolled my nipple between his fingers and rocked against me.

I arched my back off the seat. His every touch sent shock waves of need rippling through me, crippling every thought of resistance that ever floated around in my head.

“Tell me you want this, pup. Tell me you want this as much as I do,” he panted against my neck. With one flick of his fingers, he opened the button on my jeans and pushed his hand down the front until he found what he was looking for. I moaned when he reached the spot already humming from the friction of his erection. “You’re so fucking wet. You want this. I can feel it.” He used my own wetness to rub circles against my clit. “You’re so ready for me. Tell me you want me to fuck you. Let me hear you say it.”

I threw my head back, unable to form the words. He was right. He was so fucking right. I wanted him. I wanted this.

Maybe, Grace was right when she said that he could be both a bad boy and a good man. That one didn’t necessarily dictate the other.

My brain may not have been on board with the idea, but my body reacted to his every touch like it was made to be pleasured by him, like it couldn’t get enough. Like I was going to wither away and die without him inside me. I liked him on top of me. Touching me. Wanting me.

No. I didn’t like it. I loved it.

I loved sleeping with his big body next to me. I loved the way he made me feel so small. I loved the way his nostrils flared when he was about to kiss me, and then when he did, I loved that he kissed me like he was mad at me. Like it was my fault I was so desirable that he just had to put his lips to mine, his hands on me.

King sat up, and I had to hold my thighs together to stave off the ache that started building the second he’d touched me. King reached behind him, pulling his shirt up and over his head. He tossed it on the floor.

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