King of Hearts
Page 93
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Oliver hopped to attention at my request, nodding and hurrying to complete the task. I sat up from the bed quickly and pulled on my robe before leaning over and shaking King’s shoulder. He blinked his eyes open, saw me hovering over him, and smiled lazily. He slid his arm around my waist to pull me closer, his hand dipping inside my robe to palm my breast. I gently pushed him off.
“I’m sorry to wake you, but Oliver just came in and found us sleeping together,” I said, not sure why I was still whispering. Everybody was awake now. King was too sleepy to interpret what I was saying at first, but when he realised, his eyebrows shot right up.
“Ah, hell,” he said, rising to sit and running a hand over his face.
“Yeah, you need to put some clothes on. He’ll be back in a second.”
“Okay,” he murmured, leaning close to press a kiss to my lips before going and pulling on his boxers, jeans, and T-shirt. I went about making the bed as he slid his belt through the hoops and fiddled with the buckle. There was something satisfied in his expression as he watched me, and I didn’t like it. Okay, that was wrong. I liked it a lot, but I didn’t like that I liked it. It said something to the tune of, Yeah, I made you come several times last night, no need to thank me. Real cocky, like. I had just enough time to narrow my eyes at him and suppress a smile before I heard little feet trundling back up the stairs.
“Here, Mummy, here’s your bag,” Oliver announced, holding up my handbag triumphantly.
I took it from him and placed a kiss on the top of his head. “Thank you, honey.”
King stepped forward and ruffled Oliver’s hair, the three of us standing together in a circle. I was momentarily hit with a pang of emotion to have them both so close. My two men. Our small family. King shot me a warm smile like he could read my exact thoughts.
“Come on, little man, let’s go downstairs and make breakfast. Give your mum a morning off.”
“Okay,” said Oliver, bobbing his head. He seemed to enjoy how King called him “little man,” like he was one of the grown-ups. He also seemed excited to have him there. It must have been because it was usually just the two of us, so having someone new around in the morning added an element of fun. I went and took a quick shower while the two of them chattered down in the kitchen. I had no idea what they were cooking, but they were making a hell of a lot of noise. When I heard King laugh, full and deep, it sent a pleasurable tremor right down my spine. It felt nice to have a man around, just doing normal man stuff, like making breakfast with our son and giving me orgasms.
Once out of the shower, I wrapped my hair in a towel and threw on a comfy navy dress with cream polka dots. Then, removing the towel, I twisted my damp hair into a knot and went downstairs to see what kind of havoc those two were wreaking on my kitchen.
Surprisingly, the place wasn’t too messy, and the heavenly smell of French toast filled the room. King stood by the cooker, holding a spatula. He’d placed Oliver on a stool so he could sit and watch. I went and peeked in one of the cupboards, grinning happily when I found we had maple syrup. King hadn’t even realised I’d come in, because he was too focused on cooking and talking to Oliver. The two of them were so cute together, the similarities in their looks particularly striking. It was like looking at two pictures of the same person, one as a boy and the other as a man. Somehow, even though he was smaller and not as strong, I felt like maybe the boy would be the one to save the man this time. Having my love was all well and good, but there was just something about King’s eyes when he looked at our boy that brought the life back into them. It was in that moment that I truly believed he’d never drink again. I hadn’t realised it, but I hadn’t been certain before. Now, somehow I just knew.
Sitting by the counter, I placed my chin in my hands, watching them interact.
It made me happy.
King only saw me when he turned, holding the pan. His lips twitched with a smile as he plopped the food onto the plates.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“Shut up,” I said.
“Oi! You’re not allowed to say that,” Oliver said.
I stuck my tongue out at him, and he giggled. King dished up the French toast, and I poured an unhealthy amount of maple syrup onto mine. Oliver made a face at me, because he didn’t like maple syrup and preferred strawberry jam.
We were eating for a minute or two when I heard a key slot into the front door. My eyes widened and went straight to King, whose brow was furrowed curiously at the sound of someone entering my house, someone who had a key. It wasn’t at all what he thought, though. I heard Elaine’s light footsteps sound down the hall before she stepped inside the room. She often stopped by unexpectedly, but since she’d visited just yesterday, I didn’t think she’d be back so soon. When I saw the bunch of flowers she was holding, I knew she’d come just to drop them off. Every once in a while she liked to bring me flowers. King turned in his place to see who’d come in, and his fork clattered loudly to his plate.
“Oliver,” said Elaine, her voice laced heavily with emotion.
“Mum,” he breathed, so quiet it was almost a whisper.
She looked to me, and I knew instantly that she hadn’t intended to intrude. She lifted the flowers weakly, as though to prove her visit was innocent. And then her eyes filled with tears. Seconds later King was standing, taking long strides towards her and pulling her into his arms for a tight embrace. They hugged for a long time, the flowers getting squashed between them.
“I’m sorry to wake you, but Oliver just came in and found us sleeping together,” I said, not sure why I was still whispering. Everybody was awake now. King was too sleepy to interpret what I was saying at first, but when he realised, his eyebrows shot right up.
“Ah, hell,” he said, rising to sit and running a hand over his face.
“Yeah, you need to put some clothes on. He’ll be back in a second.”
“Okay,” he murmured, leaning close to press a kiss to my lips before going and pulling on his boxers, jeans, and T-shirt. I went about making the bed as he slid his belt through the hoops and fiddled with the buckle. There was something satisfied in his expression as he watched me, and I didn’t like it. Okay, that was wrong. I liked it a lot, but I didn’t like that I liked it. It said something to the tune of, Yeah, I made you come several times last night, no need to thank me. Real cocky, like. I had just enough time to narrow my eyes at him and suppress a smile before I heard little feet trundling back up the stairs.
“Here, Mummy, here’s your bag,” Oliver announced, holding up my handbag triumphantly.
I took it from him and placed a kiss on the top of his head. “Thank you, honey.”
King stepped forward and ruffled Oliver’s hair, the three of us standing together in a circle. I was momentarily hit with a pang of emotion to have them both so close. My two men. Our small family. King shot me a warm smile like he could read my exact thoughts.
“Come on, little man, let’s go downstairs and make breakfast. Give your mum a morning off.”
“Okay,” said Oliver, bobbing his head. He seemed to enjoy how King called him “little man,” like he was one of the grown-ups. He also seemed excited to have him there. It must have been because it was usually just the two of us, so having someone new around in the morning added an element of fun. I went and took a quick shower while the two of them chattered down in the kitchen. I had no idea what they were cooking, but they were making a hell of a lot of noise. When I heard King laugh, full and deep, it sent a pleasurable tremor right down my spine. It felt nice to have a man around, just doing normal man stuff, like making breakfast with our son and giving me orgasms.
Once out of the shower, I wrapped my hair in a towel and threw on a comfy navy dress with cream polka dots. Then, removing the towel, I twisted my damp hair into a knot and went downstairs to see what kind of havoc those two were wreaking on my kitchen.
Surprisingly, the place wasn’t too messy, and the heavenly smell of French toast filled the room. King stood by the cooker, holding a spatula. He’d placed Oliver on a stool so he could sit and watch. I went and peeked in one of the cupboards, grinning happily when I found we had maple syrup. King hadn’t even realised I’d come in, because he was too focused on cooking and talking to Oliver. The two of them were so cute together, the similarities in their looks particularly striking. It was like looking at two pictures of the same person, one as a boy and the other as a man. Somehow, even though he was smaller and not as strong, I felt like maybe the boy would be the one to save the man this time. Having my love was all well and good, but there was just something about King’s eyes when he looked at our boy that brought the life back into them. It was in that moment that I truly believed he’d never drink again. I hadn’t realised it, but I hadn’t been certain before. Now, somehow I just knew.
Sitting by the counter, I placed my chin in my hands, watching them interact.
It made me happy.
King only saw me when he turned, holding the pan. His lips twitched with a smile as he plopped the food onto the plates.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“Shut up,” I said.
“Oi! You’re not allowed to say that,” Oliver said.
I stuck my tongue out at him, and he giggled. King dished up the French toast, and I poured an unhealthy amount of maple syrup onto mine. Oliver made a face at me, because he didn’t like maple syrup and preferred strawberry jam.
We were eating for a minute or two when I heard a key slot into the front door. My eyes widened and went straight to King, whose brow was furrowed curiously at the sound of someone entering my house, someone who had a key. It wasn’t at all what he thought, though. I heard Elaine’s light footsteps sound down the hall before she stepped inside the room. She often stopped by unexpectedly, but since she’d visited just yesterday, I didn’t think she’d be back so soon. When I saw the bunch of flowers she was holding, I knew she’d come just to drop them off. Every once in a while she liked to bring me flowers. King turned in his place to see who’d come in, and his fork clattered loudly to his plate.
“Oliver,” said Elaine, her voice laced heavily with emotion.
“Mum,” he breathed, so quiet it was almost a whisper.
She looked to me, and I knew instantly that she hadn’t intended to intrude. She lifted the flowers weakly, as though to prove her visit was innocent. And then her eyes filled with tears. Seconds later King was standing, taking long strides towards her and pulling her into his arms for a tight embrace. They hugged for a long time, the flowers getting squashed between them.
