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Dahlia Aldridge

“Dahlia.” King’s voice was warm and soft in my ear as I blinked open my eyes, a golden ray of sunlight coasting across my vision as I snuggled further into the covers and the hard, muscular chest I was curled against. I inhaled King’s familiar cigar and vanilla scent as I let out a happy sigh at the way his lips traced my ear. I briefly remembered King carrying me through his home, but I wasn’t positive when or how long ago it had been, to be honest.

“We need to get back to the house, princess.” His voice was relaxed, but there was a tinge of concern there that had me opening my eyes and examining his face.

“You sound worried, what happened?” I yawned, nuzzling his chest again as he let out a rumble, his arms closing tighter around me.

“National media. It only took them till one in the afternoon to find us.” Then he mumbled, “Assholes.”

“Really?” I sighed and pulled back, scowling. “Why do we have to get up though?”

His lips pulled into a smile that was filled with a tightness I didn’t like. “Apparently, Callum wants to meet today. As soon as possible.”

“Oh.” I nibbled my lip and nodded before attempting to sit up. I say ‘attempting’ because I was almost immediately flat on my back again, King caging me. I couldn’t help but smile at the somewhat grumpy expression on his face.

“You said we had to get up,” I pointed out, booping his nose.

“I am finding it hard to listen to my own rationale in the face of seeing you in my bed. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you here, Dahlia.” His lips traced my collarbone. “Now that I have you, I’m all too tempted to lock the door and never let you leave.”

Honestly, if it wasn’t for seeing the others, the idea didn’t sound like the worst in the world.

“Wait.” I tilted my head. “Does that mean India will be coming over?”

That concept was actually a bit exciting. My lack of female friendship was something I had been looking to remedy, and while Abby had really knocked my confidence regarding it, making me cautious, I knew India at least well enough to know she wasnothinglike Abby. In fact, I was nearly positive India would eat someone like Abby alive.

“Possibly,” King answered and then frowned. “You know India isn’t exactly the safest person to be around, right, princess?”

“Seems like a habit of mine.” The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them, and King broke into a massive smile, chuckling and shaking his head as he rolled us over so that I was pressed against him. Despite feeling how hard he most definitely was, the tone stayed relaxed and affectionate.

“Why?” I asked in reference to his comment about India.

“I don’t have any confirmation, but anyone who surrounds herself with men like Silas Huntington should be regarded with caution,” he muttered.

“Silas?” I tilted my head and then my eyebrows rose, remembering meeting him at brunch a few days ago. I’d definitely gotten a weird vibe off him, mainly because of how intensely he’d been focused on India, which matched up with what King was saying. “What’s wrong with him?”

King eased out of bed, my eyes flashing down his body as I nearly squirmed, not used to seeing him completely naked but loving it. He let out a yawn, striding over to the other side of the bed and lifting me out. My arms wrapped around his neck as he walked us towards the en suite, not answering my question just yet. When he turned on the shower and set me down, his answer was half contemplative and half amused.

“It could be nothing, but the rumors I have heard about him are rather telling. Plus, I’m not positive, but I think he may be considered AWOL right now.” After a moment, he added, “Then again, if Callum hasn’t called him on it, maybe not.”

“AWOL?”

“He’s CIA,” King admitted softly and then smiled. “Although I don’t have confirmation on that either. But if he’s CIA and he’s stateside, it’s either for a damn good reason or he’s breaking the rules. Either way, when I called in information on all of the people accompanying India and Callum, it was very clear that Silas was not considered safe for interacting with on any level.”

“You can just call people and get information?” I stepped into the shower and King joined me, pulling my hips against his so that I was wedged against his hard length, the rainwater showerhead drenching us from above.

“Essentially,” he admitted. “Although it’s a bit easier when they are government-contracted or military.”

“Wow,” I breathed out and then shrugged. “Still want to be friends with her.”

King shook his head and motioned for me to turn around, his groan filling the space as his cock pressed against my ass and had me arching back into him. His voice was rough. “You’re going to get fucked if you keep doing that, and I’m already worried I took you too rough.”

I realized then that the man was massaging shampoo into my hair. I had absolutely no idea why the action struck me as so sweet, but when I looked back at him, I was feeling a lot of emotion besides lust. His eyes tracked my expression.

“What?” he asked softer, the heat toned down.

“I just love you,” I mumbled, offering a soft smile.

His smile grew. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing that.”


Tags: M. Sinclair The Shadows of Wildberry Lane Erotic