The King (The Original Sinners: White Years, #2)(105)

“I left. I mean, I left everything. I had to. My parents found out.”

“They didn’t take it well?”

Justin didn’t speak. The look in his eyes was answer enough.

“It’s good you left. But why are you here?” Kingsley glanced pointedly at three naked girls on the stage.

Justin smiled sheepishly. “Honestly, I was hoping to run into you.”

“I gave you my card.”

“I didn’t think you really wanted me showing up at your house. But if I ran into you here…”

Kingsley sighed.

“Sorry,” Justin said, his face falling. “Stupid idea. It’s just, I thought about you a lot. And as I’m saying this, I realize how pathetic it sounds—hanging out in a strip club hoping someone you’re into shows up. Anyway, it’s good to see you again.”

“I thought about you,” Kingsley said, surprised by the truth of the statement. Since that night in March, Justin had crossed his mind more than once, more than twice. It should have been a one-night stand. Rough and quick and then the goodbye, as rough and quick as the sex. But if he were honest with himself, Kingsley would have to admit he’d been worried about Justin and even a little ashamed of how he’d treated him.

“Is it? Good to see me again, I mean?”

Kingsley gripped the back of Justin’s neck.

“You should have come to my house instead of coming here,” Kingsley whispered in Justin’s ear.

“Why?”

“It would have saved us the car trip.”

He released Justin and strode to the door, pleased to hear the boy’s feet following right behind him. His driver opened the door for them, and he and Justin entered the Rolls.

“Wow,” Justin said again. “Nice.”

“You like it?”

“Love it. I’ve never been in a Rolls Royce before.”

“First time for everything,” Kingsley said, and even in the low light he could see a faint blush on the boy’s face.

“Have you ever… I mean, did you ever—?”

“Have I ever had sex in the back of a Rolls Royce?” Kingsley asked.

“That.”

Kingsley smiled at him.

“Never.”

Justin smiled back, then he laughed. And it was so good to see that smile and that laugh that Kingsley did something he hadn’t done the first time they were together.

Kingsley kissed him.

Kingsley kissed the outside of Justin’s mouth, his lips, along the tip of his tongue, and in and out and through him until Justin clung to Kingsley’s arms, panting from desire. Justin straddled Kingsley’s lap, and Kingsley yanked his jacket off. They couldn’t get home fast enough.

They broke the kiss when the car arrived at the town house. Once in his bedroom, Kingsley locked the door behind them and kissed Justin again. And again. And again. He couldn’t get enough of his mouth, his trembling lips, the warmth and eagerness.

“I should have kissed you that night,” Kingsley said as he unbuttoned Justin’s shirt. “I should have kissed you all night.”

Kingsley stripped them both naked to the waist and pushed Justin back on to the bed. The first time had been on a hard dirty f loor. This time he would do it right.

He held Justin by the hair and kissed his throat and collarbone. When he bit the boy’s shoulder, Justin gasped.

“You want pain again?” Kingsley asked. Last time he’d practically forced himself on Justin. This time he would do it right.

“Yeah, I do,” Justin said as he ran his hands up Kingsley’s bare arms. “I hurt myself sometimes. It turns me on.”

Kingsley stared down into Justin’s coffee-colored eyes. He touched Justin’s pale hair, his lips, felt the pulse in his neck beating wildly. Kingsley had to will himself to calm down. He wanted this boy so much it hurt, wanted to hurt this boy so much.

“What do you like?” Kingsley asked. “How do you want me to hurt you?”

Justin laughed. “I get to tell you what I like?”

Kingsley ran his hand up and down Justin’s chest. He couldn’t get enough of the boy’s smooth young skin.

“I should have asked that night,” Kingsley said. “I wasn’t in a good place then. I’m sorry.”

Justin raised his head and kissed Kingsley. He hoped that meant he was accepting his apology.

“In all my fantasies,” Justin whispered, “the sex is really rough. That’s what I like.”

“Rough sex,” Kingsley repeated. “I think I can do that.”

He moved on top of Justin and grabbed him by the wrists, pinning him to the bed. He kissed him hard this time, brutally hard, and bit his bottom lip until he broke the skin. More bites followed. Kingsley left a trail of bruises from Justin’s ear to his bicep. Justin hadn’t been exaggerating. He gasped in obvious pleasure as Kingsley dug his fingers into his hair and pulled his head back, exposing his throat. It felt so good to let go of all pretense of gentleness. If Justin liked it rough, Kingsley would show him rough.

Kingsley dug his thumb into the hollow of Justin’s throat. With his free hand, Kingsley wrenched Justin’s jeans open and shoved his hand into his pants. Justin was incredibly hard, and so Kingsley stroked him hard, painfully hard. Kingsley yearned to be inside him, but he was enough of a masochist that he forced himself to wait, to hold back as long as he could.