Read Online KING: Las Vegas Bad Boys by Frankie Love - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Frankie Love
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like, but he’s offered you a trip to the place you’ve wanted to go your entire life. Remember those waltz lessons and those embroidered pillows you used to make? Our whole house was filled with them. Go play, be happy.”
I help Sophia buckle up in her booster seat, and then I get in the car and leave the condo parking lot. Looking in the rearview mirror, I watch Sophia.
Leaving her will be hard, but maybe Mom is right. Maybe it’s time I learn how to live.
* * *
Landon
After Claire leaves the suite I feel like the fucking King I know I can be. The King I want to be. No one in my family expects shit from me, but just this once I’m going to show up and prove them all wrong.
I may be a cocky prick, but I’m not going down without a fight. Geoffrey thinks he can take this company because he’s plays the part of a fucking puppet to our father? Well, just wait until I show up, and start fighting for something I never knew I wanted.
The hardest part about this trip will be the distraction that Claire is. But thankfully she doesn’t seem as timid as she was last night. This morning, before the job opportunity flashed through my mind, we had amazing sex again.
And I intend to have more of it. Hell, she is my fiancée, after all.
Of course there will be no requirements on sex this week. She can do what she wants with her body—but now that she’s tasted me, felt me, been filled by me, no way in hell will she deny me.
After falling back asleep for several hours—because that woman woke me at an ungodly hour—I shower. Then I pull out my laptop, ready to book the tickets. Before I click purchase, I realize I should confirm with Claire that she is 100% in on this.
“Hello,” she says on the third ring. Her voice seems distracted, but I don’t ask questions. I may be taking her home as my bride-to-be, but we aren’t exactly old chums. Asking about her emotional well-being seems a bit … I don’t know, intimate.
“It’s Landon. I wanted to be sure you were one hundred percent committed before I bought the tickets. I don’t want to ... presume.”
“You don’t want to presume that I’m the sort of girl who likes to cheat and lie to people’s parents in an effort to make lots of money?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, don’t worry about my moral code. I’m all in.” I hear music playing that reminds me of an old Disney movie, and I swear a child is crying.
“Fantastic,” I tell her. “Is everything all right? It seems loud?”
“No, it’s fine. Just busy. Running errands. So when do we leave?” she asks. “I need to get my ducks in a row.”
I smile, knowing phrases like ducks in a row is the exact reason I am taking her home, and not some flighty girl.
“Tomorrow,” I say, checking my computer screen for the flight times. “Ten in the morning. I’ll send a car around; just text me your address.”
“Okay. So I’ll just pack and ... I don’t actually know what I should pack. Is it like a jeans and sweater weekend or like ... actually, that’s basically all I have.”
“You know what,” I tell her, grimacing at the thought of her at the Hertfordshire estate in those worn boots. “Why don’t you swing back round to the hotel and get a credit card from me to purchase some new items for your wardrobe. Less shabby chic and more ... I don’t know ... Princess Kate.”
“This is starting to feel like Pretty Woman or something.” She half-laughs, then whispers into the phone as if she doesn’t want someone to overhear. “Just to be clear, there was no sex involved in the job offer.”
“Of course not—but, you know, it isn’t off the table.”
“Just not included in the handling fees.”
“Exactly,” I tell her. “Any sex had will not be a part of the job. It will be only for pleasure.”
“I think you should maybe hold off on the sexpectations a bit. For me, this really is a job. Sex is not the priority. Getting your family to believe we are a couple is.”
“What,
I help Sophia buckle up in her booster seat, and then I get in the car and leave the condo parking lot. Looking in the rearview mirror, I watch Sophia.
Leaving her will be hard, but maybe Mom is right. Maybe it’s time I learn how to live.
* * *
Landon
After Claire leaves the suite I feel like the fucking King I know I can be. The King I want to be. No one in my family expects shit from me, but just this once I’m going to show up and prove them all wrong.
I may be a cocky prick, but I’m not going down without a fight. Geoffrey thinks he can take this company because he’s plays the part of a fucking puppet to our father? Well, just wait until I show up, and start fighting for something I never knew I wanted.
The hardest part about this trip will be the distraction that Claire is. But thankfully she doesn’t seem as timid as she was last night. This morning, before the job opportunity flashed through my mind, we had amazing sex again.
And I intend to have more of it. Hell, she is my fiancée, after all.
Of course there will be no requirements on sex this week. She can do what she wants with her body—but now that she’s tasted me, felt me, been filled by me, no way in hell will she deny me.
After falling back asleep for several hours—because that woman woke me at an ungodly hour—I shower. Then I pull out my laptop, ready to book the tickets. Before I click purchase, I realize I should confirm with Claire that she is 100% in on this.
“Hello,” she says on the third ring. Her voice seems distracted, but I don’t ask questions. I may be taking her home as my bride-to-be, but we aren’t exactly old chums. Asking about her emotional well-being seems a bit … I don’t know, intimate.
“It’s Landon. I wanted to be sure you were one hundred percent committed before I bought the tickets. I don’t want to ... presume.”
“You don’t want to presume that I’m the sort of girl who likes to cheat and lie to people’s parents in an effort to make lots of money?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, don’t worry about my moral code. I’m all in.” I hear music playing that reminds me of an old Disney movie, and I swear a child is crying.
“Fantastic,” I tell her. “Is everything all right? It seems loud?”
“No, it’s fine. Just busy. Running errands. So when do we leave?” she asks. “I need to get my ducks in a row.”
I smile, knowing phrases like ducks in a row is the exact reason I am taking her home, and not some flighty girl.
“Tomorrow,” I say, checking my computer screen for the flight times. “Ten in the morning. I’ll send a car around; just text me your address.”
“Okay. So I’ll just pack and ... I don’t actually know what I should pack. Is it like a jeans and sweater weekend or like ... actually, that’s basically all I have.”
“You know what,” I tell her, grimacing at the thought of her at the Hertfordshire estate in those worn boots. “Why don’t you swing back round to the hotel and get a credit card from me to purchase some new items for your wardrobe. Less shabby chic and more ... I don’t know ... Princess Kate.”
“This is starting to feel like Pretty Woman or something.” She half-laughs, then whispers into the phone as if she doesn’t want someone to overhear. “Just to be clear, there was no sex involved in the job offer.”
“Of course not—but, you know, it isn’t off the table.”
“Just not included in the handling fees.”
“Exactly,” I tell her. “Any sex had will not be a part of the job. It will be only for pleasure.”
“I think you should maybe hold off on the sexpectations a bit. For me, this really is a job. Sex is not the priority. Getting your family to believe we are a couple is.”
“What,
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