Pretend

3. Kade

What the hell is wrong with me?

My d**k is hard, and for once in my life, I didn’t take advantage of a woman I desperately wanted. Her eyes were a fierce shade of blue, the curl in her shoulder length blonde hair hung loose, and her body, damn. Her abs alone had me drooling and wanting to f**k her without thinking about the consequences. Her muscles rippled through her body. I’ve never seen a more toned body on a woman. And I can only imagine the positions I could put her in.

But she is too young and inexperienced for me. And I don’t do Sebastian’s sloppy seconds. I shouldn’t be hard.

But I am. Painstakingly hard. I’m cursing for wearing such tight pants. I consider taking them off and jacking off, before heading back down, but I don’t have time.

She kneed me in the balls, and yea, that hurt like hell, but it’s nothing compared to how my d**k aches at not f*****g her. Her body was screaming for me to f**k her. I should receive a medal for chivalry after this is all over. Sebastian would have f****d her and hurt her, I would have fucker her and demolished her.

I jog out of the room to chase after her but stop after only making it to the door. I bend over trying to deal with the agony. Twinging, throbbing pain that won’t subside until I spend my night with an ice pack on my balls or by f*****g a woman in my bed. I prefer the latter. At least if I’m f*****g, my d**k will stop suffering.

Stop being a wuss.

I force myself to start running again, and I jog down the stairs ignoring the torment, biting my lip, so I don’t let out girlish screams bursting to be let out with every step I take. Damn, Larkyn.

The pounding in my head returns when I step foot back downstairs, the house full of beating music. I’m too old for this s**t, I think. Most people are far too drunk at this point. Women are stripping, and I see more bras and exposed breasts than at a strip club. Men are taking advantage, pressing women up against walls, and trying to sneak them upstairs.

Ugh.

I like partying, but not like this. This is sloppy and gross. I much prefer to hang out in one of the bars I own. More control, and fewer teenagers.

I step over a mountain of broken glass. Sebastian should learn to serve these idiots with solo cups. Someone always cuts themselves on the broken glass inevitably covering the floor after a dozen people drop their glasses because they’re too drunk to hold a f*****g drink.

Sebastian thinks because he comes from money all his parties need to be fancy. Why can’t he learn to have a college party without all the extravagance? It would suit these people better, no matter how they view themselves.

I search the main floor and peak out into the backyard, but I don’t find Larkyn. She left. Had a friend take her home or called an Uber. Either way, she’s no longer my problem. I need to forget about her.

I spot Sebastian out of the corner of my eye doing shots on Naomi’s stomach.

I rub the back of my neck as I stare at him. He’s never going to grow up. At least he is playing with a woman who understands what’s at stake. She’s on an even playing field with Sebastian. Unlike Larkyn, who was clueless about what she was getting herself into.

The TV is still hanging on the wall. Sebastian made it down in time to save his precious TV. And then, just as easily, forgot all about Larkyn. i***t.

Smooth hands dance over my chest and wrap tightly around my neck as a boa constrictor wraps around its prey.

I pretend I can’t breathe, motioning with my hands to my neck that Harlow’s hands are too tight.

She laughs but doesn’t loosen her grip on my neck.

“You can’t resist me, so don’t pretend. I like playing this game we have going on between us, but don’t pretend we don’t both know how this is going to end. I’m going to be naked in your bed by the end of the night,” Harlow says.

I frown. No way in hell is that happening. I f****d her once, months ago. And I knew the second my d**k touched her p***y it was a mistake. The s*x was good, if not forgettable. Normally, it would have been fine. I wouldn’t regret having s*x with a woman as hot as Harlow, but f*****g Harlow broke my one rule. I don’t f**k women from Santa Barbara.

Women here aren’t like women in LA. Women in LA know I’m only good for one f**k, and then they need to move on to the next millionaire or billionaire. Here though, they become attached. They want more. Women here are bred to search for a man with a name they can pass to their children and continue the legacy. And I happen to have a very powerful name in this town.

“Not going to f*****g happen, Harlow. We had our one time, I don’t go back for a second round,” my voice sounds harsh, but I have to be cruel. She won’t get the message if I’m not.

I untangle myself from her tentacles, as I try to disappear into the crowd. I should have stayed hidden in the shadows. I could watch the show without being noticed. But my brother had to go and be a dumbass and I have to save him, and the poor girl he almost ruined, like always.

Harlow yells after me, but I keep moving, only stopping to grab a beer from one of the waiters. I need it if I’m going to survive the rest of the night. I’d rather have another whiskey, but I need to stay sober to keep Sebastian out of trouble. I need some alcohol to keep myself from going off on Harlow, though.

Fuck this night.

I shouldn’t have come back here, even if it was necessary.

I think I’ve finally evaded Harlow when a new warm body presses up against mine.

I don’t recognize the woman, but she reeks of alcohol and vomit. Not an endearing combination.

I grab her shoulders to move her out of my way. She stumbles as I move her, and I hold her shoulder longer than I want.

“Kade King, I can’t believe you’re here. I’ve had such a big crush on you.”

“You should drink some water,” I say, flagging down a waiter and grabbing a glass of water to hand the woman.

She grins.

Shit, I know that grin. This is what I get for being nice and trying to help a woman.

“I want to have your babies Kade King!” she says, screaming.

My lips pull back tightly. I’m never coming to one of Sebastian’s ridiculous parties again. In fact, this might be the last time I visit this town.

“Drink the water,” I say, glancing around for her date or a friend to pass her off to. A man is standing behind her, eyeing her. I don’t know if he’s her date or not, but she’s his problem now. I give him a, ‘take care of her, don’t f**k her,’ glare and push her into his arms.

He looks happy, yet terrified. I roll my eyes and storm away. Welcome to my world.

Why do women think I want a baby? I already have one dealing with Sebastian.

I finish my loop around after thoroughly losing Harlow. I stand in the corner of the living room where Sebastian does another shot off Naomi, this time from between her boobs.

I nurse my beer, trying to blend into the corner as I keep an eye on my brother. He’s done f*****g everything up for me. This is the last major party of the year before graduation. He needs to make it through tonight without doing any damage.

“We need to talk,” Harlow says, her body standing firmly in front of me, her hands crossed over her chest, and her face is fierce, in a don’t mess with me sort of way.

I sigh as I glance at my brother grabbing Naomi’s hand and leading her toward the garage.

Fuck.

He tries to drive drunk every f*****g time.

Not going to happen tonight.

“We can talk later,” I say, brushing past her rigid body.

“I’m pregnant,” she says.

FUCK.

I stop dead in my tracks. I spin on my heels staring down at Harlow’s belly. She’s wearing her usual skin-tight dress that hugs her body like a second layer of skin. Her stomach is flat. Not even a hint of a bump.

I close my eyes trying to focus on when the last time I had s*x with her was. I know it’s been months, but when was it exactly… I rush through my flings over the last couple of months, and then I remember. It was the end of Sebastian’s Christmas break. Early January. I came back after the previous party got out of hand and he was arrested for drunk driving. I was pissed and needed to let off some steam. Harlow was who I let off steam on.

It was definitely January. It’s April now. If she is pregnant, there is no way it’s mine.

I open my eyes calmly. My body has been calm this entire time in fact. Hearing a woman say she’s pregnant would send most men’s balls straight up inside their body. It would stop their hearts along with their breathing. It would shatter their world so they couldn’t think straight or f**k another woman for months, even after the baby was confirmed not to be theirs.

Hearing a woman say she is pregnant doesn’t have the same effect on me. Not because I want a baby. I sure as hell am not ready to be a father. But because I’ve heard the line used too many times. Women think they can trap a King if they say they are pregnant. I don’t f**k without protection. I don’t knock up women. And if she were pregnant, all my money and prestige would go to the baby, not her. I don’t want a relationship. That’s not who I am.

I turn away from her, not bothering to give her another second of my attention. I need to find Sebastian before he ruins the King name, again.

“Well? You’re really going to walk out on the mother of your child?” she says, grabbing my arm.

I exhale to keep from pummeling her. I’m so tired of this s**t.

I turn and look at her with a glare, my nostrils flare, and my frown burrows. She takes a step back, her hand falling from my arm.

“My lawyer will go with you to your next appointment to confirm you are pregnant.”

She smiles brightly. She’s pregnant, or she wouldn’t be so smug about it.

“And to take a paternity test.”

Her smile drops, and fear flickers in her eyes. The baby isn’t mine. I don’t know if she can take a paternity test at this point, or if we’d need to wait until the baby is born. But I don’t have to wait. Her eyes confirmed what she wouldn’t tell me.

In some weird way, I wish she was pregnant. Not because I want to deal with Harlow Hill for the rest of my life, but because if I had a child, an heir to my inheritance, maybe it would stop other women from trying so hard to make me theirs. If they realized Harlow was getting nothing, and I planned on turning my entire empire over to my first born, maybe the harassment would stop.

I could put out in every interview I don’t want a sibling for my child. I don’t want children fighting over running my company the way Sebastian and I fought over my father’s. Maybe all this chaos would stop. Maybe having a child wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world?

My eyes bulge thinking about it. I’ve gone mad. Having a child would destroy everything I’ve worked to build on my own.

I leave Harlow speechless, and I start jogging toward the garage, leaving my unfinished beer with a waiter on my way.

The Jaguar is gone. s**t.

Every. f*****g. Time.

I shake my head and run to my Aston Martin. My blood is boiling as I start the car up and zip out of the garage, dodging drunk college kids as I drive as fast as I can in the direction I know Sebastian drove.

He’s predictable; I’ll give him that. Why can’t he be predictably responsible? The kind of kid who can throw a party without one issue. Where he f***s the women in his bedroom and passes out afterward. Like normal college students.

The lawyer I hired shouldn’t have fought to scrub Sebastian’s last DUI from his record. Sebastian should have lost his driver’s license. Although, I doubt that would have stopped him. I should take his cars away, but he’d buy a new one.

I’m installing one of those breathalyzer tests on his cars so his cars won’t start without him being sober. And since there are no sober people at his parties, he would never be able to leave.

My face burns red, and I grip the wheel tighter when I spot his red Jag on Highway 101, leading toward his favorite cliffside spot overlooking the beach. Naomi is in the passenger seat, and he has his arm draped around her back.

Why he thinks he needs to bring women here, I’ll never understand. He’s a King. Any woman at his party would f**k him. He doesn’t need to be charming or sober. He can be sloppy drunk, barely able to get his d**k up, and any woman at his party would praise him for how great the s*x was.

I don’t think he does this to impress the woman. He does this to piss me off. He hates me trying to control his life, and this is his f****d up way of trying to fight back. That, and he likes his fast cars almost as much as he likes his women.

I sigh.

I don’t know how I’m going to let him take over any of my clubs. I want to give him one club. One single club. The one here in Santa Barbara. So there is no reason for me ever to return to this f*****g town. And he can prove he is capable of doing more than finding trouble.

Then, I might let him run a few more parts of the business. Maybe. Or he’ll decide he hates running a business and will live off his trust fund and name our father left us.

I stick my hand out the window, the chilly air cooling my warm skin. I try to calm myself down so when I beat Sebastian’s ass when he stops, I don’t break his nose like last time. Though he deserves worse.

Squealing breaks bring me back to reality.

Sebastian swerves.

I slow and pass him, as his car tumbles into the ditch on the side of the road. Flipping once and landing upside down.

I scream, my voice high pitched as I witness the accident.

I pull my car off the road in front of his wrecked car slamming on the brakes, and jump out, preparing myself for the worst. I sprint to the upside down driver’s door.

I grab the door handle to open the door, but it won’t move. The window is open, but luckily it was too cold to put the top down, or this could be a lot worse.

I reach inside, undoing his seat belt.

“You okay, Sebastian?” I ask.

He coughs and smiles. “That was f*****g insane!”

I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. He’s fine, just drunk. I pull him out of the car and inspect him for a second. He has a small cut above his eyebrow, but he seems fine. I’ll call an ambulance after I check on Naomi so a doctor can check him out, and he’s booked for drunk driving, again.

But he’ll be fine, because as much as I want to kill him for being so stupid, he’s still my brother. The only person who loves me. I won’t let him rot in jail, or ruin his life for f*****g up again. I will find a way to put an end to this. Even if it means taking away every one of his f*****g cars.

When I ensure Sebastian is okay, I race over to the passenger side and pull the door open. Naomi has undone her seatbelt and falls into my arms smiling.

“That was wild!” she shouts, equally drunk and happy. I inspect her quickly, and she doesn’t appear to have a scratch on her either. Which is good, because her family would definitely sue if she’s injured. They will probably sue anyway, unless Sebastian agrees to marry her, or some s**t like that.

I sigh, pulling my phone out to report the accident to the police, and call for an ambulance for the two crazy idiots that are now laughing, holding each other like they got out of the theater after watching a hilarious movie, instead of being lucky for surviving a car accident.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

I exhale again, trying to remain calm. This isn’t the time for lectures. That will come tomorrow, when Sebastian’s no longer drunk.

“I need to report an accident on Highway 101, just past exit seventy-one.”

“How many cars are involved?”

“One.”

“Can you tell if anyone was injured?”

“Both of the passengers in the car appear fine, besides a few minor cuts.”

“The police and ambulance are on their way and should be there in…”

A moan grabs my attention, and I turn back around, ignoring the woman on the phone. I stare at Sebastian and Naomi who are both still cracking each other up. They didn’t make those groans.

“Sir. What is your name sir? Any other information you can give me?” The woman keeps asking me questions, but I ignore her, pulling the phone from my ear as I move to the front of the car.

Moaning. It sounds like a woman’s moan, and it sounds terrible.

I don’t see anything, initially. I look under the front of the car and see nothing.

The moan grows louder. It hits my soul and sends me into a panic. There is someone out here.

My eyes scan the darkness, searching. I finally spot the white T-shirt reflecting the light from the Jags’ headlights.

I run faster than I thought possible to her, bending down to a woman lying in the dirt on the side of the road. She’s wearing nothing but a white T-shirt and underwear. Her toned legs stretch for miles. I would know her body anywhere.

Larkyn.

I search around for her bike or the car she was thrown from, but I find neither. She walked home. This is my fault. I should have made sure she got into a car, not walk on the side of a highway in the dark.

I grab the phone and pull it back to my ear.

“There is a woman injured. I think she was hit by the car while walking on the side of the highway,” my voice is shaky as I speak.

“Is she conscious?”

“Larkyn? Can you talk to me?” I ask, tapping her gently on the shoulder.

A soft moan escapes her lips.

“She’s not speaking, just moaning.”

“I don’t want you to move her. The ambulance is caught up in a storm, a tree fell blocking their way, but they should be there in less than ten minutes. Without moving her, check to see if you notice any obvious injuries.”

My eyes water as they search over her body. She’s injured, everywhere. Blood coats her skin, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from.

The operator said not to flip her over, but there is so much blood pouring around her body. I need to know. I flip her over, cradling her head as I do, to prevent any damage.

I see a massive piece of glass sticking into her stomach, along with smaller pieces of sticks and glass all over her body.

She moans again but doesn’t open her eyes. Her breathing is frail and shallow. I check her pulse, and it’s just as weak. I don’t know what to do about the blood. If it’s better to leave the glass in, or not.

“There is a large piece of glass sticking out of her stomach and a lot of blood. She’s barely breathing, and her pulse is weak,” I tell the operator.

“Okay, stay with her and make sure she continues breathing but don’t touch the glass.”

“How much f*****g longer?” I ask, knowing she won’t make it much longer without assistance.

“Nine minutes.”

My eyes widen as she strangles her breath. Her breathing stops for a second.

“Breathe Larkyn!” I shout, not allowing her to die in my arms.

The phone falls from my hands, and I glance over at my car, then Sebastian and Naomi. Both thankfully stopped laughing, realizing the seriousness of their fuckup.

The wind picks up, and I know it’s going to be longer than nine minutes. Storms in this town come from nowhere, and destroy everything in their path. This is one of those times.

The hospital is five minutes away; less, if I drive as fast as I want to. I’m not waiting.

I scoop Larkyn into my arms and race toward the car.

“Get in the f*****g car,” I shout to Sebastian and Naomi.

They do, Sebastian sits in the back, holding out his arms to hold Larkyn, as I lower her into the car.

Her eyes flicker open at me, and I swear she peers into my soul at that moment. Then, they close again as if I imagined it.

“Make sure she’s still breathing. If she stops, tell me,” I shout at Sebastian as I hop into the driver’s seat, speeding as fast as I’ve ever driven to the hospital. I hope Sebastian is now sober enough to notice if she is breathing or not.

Sebastian f****d up.

I f****d up.

And now Larkyn is paying the price.

She moans again, letting me know she’s still breathing.

Thank f**k. Keep breathing Larkyn. I can’t live with myself if you die.