The King residence is a maze.
There are about twenty different bathrooms here. I pick the one under the stairs. The walls are turquoise blue, and there are small jars of seashells in here—the kind you’d find at a beachside hotel—and the whole thing smells too much like potpourri. I check my eyes to make sure they’re not completely bloodshot.
I also need a second to breathe.
On one hand, I’ve discovered I have a new kink. Jason King, moaning and flushed red underneath me, unleashed something primal inside of me.
On the other hand, being claimed by him, in front of his family, was also something I didn’t know I needed…until it happened. The whole night feels like a fugue state. Like I’ll wake up and tomorrow I’ll be back on my knees, scrubbing Mr. King’s boat, while Jason and his friends call me dick boy from the bow.
I dab some water between my eyes and on the back of my neck. Then I exit to rejoin the crew.
On my way back to the patio, I hear voices from the kitchen. I slow down the hall, pausing next to one of the many family photos hung on the wall.
“—I hope you haven’t forgotten our arrangement.”
Mr. King’s voice is low, threatening. Gone is the amiable, polite host from before.
“Of course not.” Is that…Kenzi? I glance around the corner. They’re alone in the kitchen, and she’s carried a stack of dessert dishes to the counter. Mr. King has her cornered—quite literally—at the sink.
The way he’s talking to her makes my blood go cold.
“But you and Jason—”
“I haven’t told him about Otto,” Kenzi says firmly. “And I won’t.”
For a moment, the silence that hangs between them is thick.
“Tread very, very carefully,” he tells her. “You’ll do anything to protect your son. And I’ll do anything to protect mine.”
With that, Mr. King takes his exit, leaving Kenzi and going back outside to the patio.
Kenzi lingers, however. I watch as she white-knuckles the kitchen counter, frozen in place. Her chest rises and falls quickly with each breath.
I can’t watch her suffer alone anymore. I step out from behind the wall, entering the kitchen. “Hey,” I say gently.
Immediately, her hand flies to her chest. “Jesus, Donovan. You scared the crap out of me.” Her eyes flicker over me, and then she squints. “How long have you—?”
“Long enough.” I lean against the counter beside her. We don’t look at each other, but our arms touch. “So that’s why you haven’t told Jason yet.”
“Otto needs the care he’s getting right now,” Kenzi says softly. “If he didn’t have it…I don’t know what we’d do…”
She sounds terrified, close to tears. I’ve never heard her voice like this.
I reach out and weave my fingers through hers. Her hand is trembling in mine. “We’ll figure it out,” I tell her. “Together. I promise.”
There’s a hiss as the sliding doors open and shut. Immediately, Kenzi retracts her hand, and her back goes stiff.
But it’s only Jason. He steps into the kitchen, a small smile on his lips. “Hey. You guys okay?”
Kenzi matches his smile. “We’re great.” Her walls have gone up again. She’s behind a defense I can’t climb.
“Cool,” Jason says. “You wanna get the fuck out of here?”
I chime in. “Please.”
