21. Rip #3
“That’s what I said. I’ll take King home, and you stay with Shawn.”
Thomas and Shawn’s brows furrow in unison, their eyes darting to Kingsley with a shared, uncomprehending stare.
Kingsley struggles to find his words. “Rip is probably right; I should go. Shawn, make sure Thomas gets home. I’ll have the driver send out someone for you both.”
The boys stare at us as if we have two heads, but I don’t have time to wait for them to process the words. I lace my fingers with Kingsley and pull him out of the gala, ignoring the obvious stares flowing our way.
His driver is on it—he’s already outside waiting for us when we get through the double doors. I open the door for my fake-sick prince, and he slides into the back seat. I let out a heavy sigh. Finally, the cameras are out of sight.
The thought of messing with him again comes to mind, but judging on his clenched jaw and his labored breathing, I’d say he’s too pissed for my silly games.
“My finger slipped the last time, I swear.”
Kingsley looks at the driver, who’s too busy singing along to his music to pay attention to us. “Sure it did.”
“Does that mean you liked it?” I whisper. “Or are you going to tell me to fuck off when we make it back to your place?”
Kingsley chews on his bottom lip, and he shifts in the seat. I glance at his crotch, and it’s aimed right at me. There’s my answer.
“Wait until we get back, okay?” he mumbles.
Of course, I’ll wait. It isn’t exactly ideal to fuck around in the backseat of a car with his driver right there. I mean… unless he’d be down for that.
What am I even saying?
But there is something off about Kingsley’s tone, besides the underlying anger from before. He’s silent the rest of the trip, in a way that suggests he’s thinking hard about something. Like he’s plotting.
When we finally make it to his house, we have to get through the side quests of chatting with his sisters and parents before we make it to his room. Once we’re in his bedroom, I lock the door while Kingsley takes off his tie and jacket, barely paying my presence any mind.
I appear behind him, resting my arm over his shoulder and watching us in the mirror. “Do you think you handled it?”
He’s stripping off his pants and underwear, breathing out in relief as his hard cock springs out. “Yes, Rip. I handled your stupid ass test. I’m so fucking hard right now I have blue balls.”
My dick twitches. “Do you want some help with that?”
“Fuck, yes.” His big eyes meet mine. “But can you answer something first?”
His balls are about to burst, and he wants me to answer a question?
I fumble with my belt. “Hurry and ask it.”
He’s chewing his lip with that thoughtful look on his face again. I swallow. Why am I suddenly nervous about what he’s going to ask?
“You really don’t like men?”
Someone sure knows how to dampen the mood. I drop my pants to the floor and kick them off while he waits for my answer patiently.
“Let’s not start this again.”
“Start what?” he challenges, tone even. “I’m curious how me, a man, gets you so hard if you aren’t attracted to men. You bought me a toy, darling.”
My hand pushes into his chest. “I’m getting you off, aren’t I? Making you feel good. So it doesn’t matter.”
Kingsley doesn’t step back. Instead, he steps forward. “You’re about to pull a butt plug out of my ass and hopefully fuck me into the mattress, but you don’t like men.”
My jaw clenches, and it takes everything in me not to punch him. “Stop. Talking.”
“You call me ‘Prince,’ and beautiful, and lose your shit when someone else even looks at me wrong, but that doesn’t mean shit because you don’t like men.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. He’s right, and it shouldn’t be this much of a problem to tell him that. It’s not like I’m in denial; I accepted my attraction a while ago. But I was never supposed to act on it. I was never supposed to get sucked up into a man.
Fire shoots through me, and I grip the back of Kingsley’s neck, pulling him close. My hands won’t let me hurt his stunning face, so I’m stuck glaring into his pretty gray eyes, while he stares back with a wide, pleading look. They want me to do something. To do something more.
“Maybe I am into men. Maybe I am gay!” I force the words out, and everything becomes ten times more real. But all I want to acknowledge right now is that I’m into you.”
Kingsley’s lips part slightly as his eyes search mine. They fall to my lips, and then back up at me. He’s pressed against me so that his hard-on brushes against my thigh, and he rubs. Then he whimpers. He bloody whimpers.
I should close the distance and kiss him.
But I’m already in deeper than I thought. Can I handle what will happen to me if I kiss the prince?
Kingsley makes the decision for me.
He moves his face away from mine, and his eyes flash a hint of sadness that only lasts for a second. Kingsley grabs my groin, whispering, “Rip, I can take it.”
He rubs his palm over me, and gosh, I could come right here. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“I’m not fragile.” He squeezes me tight, making me grunt.
I know. If he were, he wouldn’t be my prince.