Bones (Dark Kingdom, #5) — Chapter no 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MIA

DINNER WENT BY slowly. I didn’t say much. What was there to talk about? Everyone seemed tense. Even Titan kept staring at Dillan. And he stared back like they had some silent conversation going on.

It was awkward. And I just got drunk. After three glasses of champagne, Dillan had to help me to the elevator. To hell with whatever pictures and headlines are plastered all over the internet of me come tomorrow. It won’t matter. None of it will.

Luca will hate me if he ever wakes up, and my sister-in-law already hates me. I should have never stayed in that beach house when I woke up after he drugged me. I should have run as far and as fast as I could while I had the chance. Then my brothers wouldn’t have found me, and I wouldn’t have gotten the only person in my family who actually cares about me shot.

“Let’s go out,” Jasmine announces as we step off the elevator on the first

floor.

“I don’t think …”

“Come on.” Jasmine sticks her bottom lip out at Dillan as we make our way down the narrow hallway to stand outside. “It’s one night. Alexa and I need this before the clubs open and we’re busy every night. Let’s go out, have some drinks, and dance.”

“You have to be home by midnight,” Emilee reminds her with a laugh.

“Oh, yes.” She smiles. “I have plans later.” Jasmine refers to her Big Daddy Dick text that she received while on our way to the warehouse earlier today.

Bones looks over at me, and I nod. I’ve never gotten to go out before, so why not? My night is already fucked. It can’t get worse. “Okay. We’ll follow you guys,” he says as the valet brings his car to a stop.

Opening up my door, Dillan takes my hand and helps me inside. I fall onto my ass and push my bare back up against the black leather seat and close my eyes.

“Hey.” I feel a hand on my thigh, and I jump, my eyes springing open.

Dillan is leaning across the center console, one hand on my thigh, the other cupping my face. When did he get in the car?

“We don’t have to go out,” he tells me.

“I want to.” I want to forget about this night, the fight, and the fact that I have fucked up everything. “I’m fine. Promise.” Lie.

But he seems to buy it because he pulls away and drives off. I lean my head back against the headrest again and close my eyes, feeling the way my head spins and noticing that my tongue is heavy.

_______________

DILLAN PULLS HIS car into a parking spot next to a red Maserati, and I watch Titan get out before opening the passenger side door for Emilee. Jasmine pulls up next and gets out of a white BMW i8.

Dillan takes my hand, and we walk across the packed parking lot.

Coming around a building, I see a long line of people waiting to get in. “Is it always this busy?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah.” Jasmine is the one who answers me, tucking a piece of her red hair behind her ear.

I try to keep up behind Dillan while passing everyone standing in line and up a set of stairs.

“Kings.” A man with a clipboard smiles at us. “Wasn’t expecting you all tonight.”

“Last-minute decision,” Cross informs him.

“I know how that is.” The guy writes something down and then opens the doors for us. “Give us ten, and Damian will have your usual table ready.”

We enter the building, and the sound of loud bass hits my ears. The floor under my heels vibrates, and lights flash, making it hard to focus on anything. “Do you come here a lot?” I yell in Dillan’s ear.

He shakes his head and bends down to speak into mine. “Cross and Grave used to.”

I’ve never seen so many people in one place before. I’ve watched TV shows and movies where people are out dancing at clubs, but this one is three stories tall. A bar lines either wall to our left and right with a dance floor in the middle. Stairs are straight ahead that lead up to a loft area.

Looking up, I see people looking over down to the first floor.

Dillan pulls me through the mass of people while Cross and Alexa lead us over to the bar at the back. He leans down and asks, “What would you like?”

Pulling back, I meet his eyes. The moment I got my first look at him in the limo, I thought he was gorgeous for a man. Evil but beautiful, nonetheless. He always has this look on his face like he hates the world. Or maybe it’s just me and the position I’ve put him in. But right now, with all the flashing neon lights, they glow the prettiest color of blue I’ve ever seen.

I guess that could be the alcohol talking. Isn’t there a saying about how alcohol makes you find someone attractive who you normally wouldn’t?

Even so, that can’t be what this is because I already find him that way.

“Surprise me,” I say, licking my numbing lips, and his eyes drop to the action.

Reaching up, he cups my face, his thumb running over them before his eyes meet mine again. My thighs tighten, and my lips part. An open invitation that I want his on mine.

But he pulls away and faces the bar, ordering some drinks. My shoulders fall.

Of course, he’s not going to kiss me in public. This is a fake relationship.

It’s not real. Not what he’s trying to convince the world of anyway. Yeah, we’ve had sex, but it’s not like he’s going to shove my dress up, bend me over the bar, and fuck me for all to see.

He’s motherfucking Dillan Reed—Bones—a King. Multibillionaire. He’s probably got at least a hundred women right now blowing up his phone, begging to fuck him. Acting like he’s interested in me while out in public would ruin his playboy reputation.

Turning around, he hands me a drink. I bring the straw to my lips and take a sip. My eyes fall closed, and I moan when the fruity liquid slides down the back of my throat. Damn, that’s good. Is this alcohol?

Opening them up, I freeze, my lips still around the straw when I see him watching me.

I pull the drink back and nod once. “It’s good.” I play it off.

Stepping into me, he removes the drink from my hand and places it on the bar. “I said I liked it,” I yell over the music, thinking he didn’t hear me the first time.

His hand falls to my neck, and I swallow, my skin breaking out in goose bumps. Lowering his head, he whispers in my ear, sending a chill down my

spine. “Dance with me.”

Without waiting for an answer, he pulls away and grabs my hand, dragging me out to the dance floor. People part for us like he’s fucking Moses, and the men nod their heads at him as if they know him personally.

“Want It” by SoMo starts to play. I nervously look around, but he cups

my cheek.

“Look at me.”

“I’ve never danced before,” I admit. My heart races with nervousness even though I want him to pull me in close to his body and run his hands all over me, making my skin heat. Fuck, I’m horny and drunk.

“First time for everything.” He repeats the same thing I said to him when he told me sex would hurt.

When he pulls me into him, I melt. His hands grip my body, moving my hips to the music. His eyes are on mine so intently that it makes me wonder what he’s thinking.

“I want you to fuck me,” I say, wanting him to know what’s on my mind.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him to me. Needing to be as close as possible while others run into us.

He groans, lowering his lips close to mine but not close enough to touch.

Once again, he’s refusing to kiss me in public. “Mia…”

Moving my head to the side, I run my tongue up the side of his neck to his ear and add, “How you like it.”

His hands grip my hips painfully, and I close my eyes, imagining him being inside me and doing that. Bruising me. Marking me.

One of his hands slides up my bare back and grips my hair, yanking my face from his neck, forcing me to look up at him in the flashing lights. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Kink,” I say, and he arches a brow at the word. “That’s what you like, right?” I pull my hands from around his neck and slide them down the sides of his button-up, feeling his taut muscles. They make my mouth water.

Maybe I’m naïve, or maybe I’m one of those dumb girls who will do whatever to please a man, but I want more. Maybe it’s for me. I want Dillan Reed to fuck me, to own me. To consume me. I need him to take my mind off everything else in my fucked-up life and teach me something new. Show me what it’s like to be with a King.

BONES

SHE STARES UP at me, her eyes heavy from the alcohol. When she said she wanted me to fuck her how I liked it, I thought she had lost her mind. I know she didn’t have any sexual partners before me, but how could she think I haven’t enjoyed fucking her? Then she mentioned Kink, and it made sense. She means she wants me to dominate her.

I can’t say that I haven’t thought about it. That’s how I’ve always been with women in the past. But they were all a means to an end sort of situation. “You sure?” I ask.

She nods, her eyes on my lips, hands gripping my hips. I’m so fucking hard, and she knows it. I can feel her body rocking against my dick, trying to tease me. She doesn’t even know the meaning of that word, but I’ll teach her.

She wants something different tonight, so I’ll give it to her. “Come on.” I pull her off the dance floor with one hand while pulling my cell out with the other. I check the availability for The Palace and then put it back in my pocket. “We’re out,” I tell the guys.

“Leaving already?” Jasmine whines, looking at Mia. She’s too busy downing what was left of the drink Emilee handed her.

“Yep. We’re going to Kingdom.”

Titan smiles, knowing exactly what I’m about to do. We’ve shared the room before. “Have fun.” He winks at Mia, making her brows crease from her confusion at his words.

I lead her out of the club and to my car, opening my passenger door for her. She stays quiet as we drive through town and pull into the private garage the Kings share at Kingdom.

Helping her out of the car, we make our way to the private entrance.

“What are we doing here?” she asks.

“You’ll see,” I say vaguely.

Nigel stands in the corner behind a desk. “Bones, everything okay?” he asks.

I nod at him. “Yes. We’ll be staying here tonight.”

Grabbing a key card from my wallet, I scan it. The doors to the elevator open, and we step inside. Pressing the sixteenth floor, I grab her arm the moment the door closes and spin her around to face me. “It’s not too late to change your mind,” I whisper, cupping her face.

She gives me a drunken smile and then presses her lips gently to mine, letting me know she’s ready.

The elevator dings, and we walk down a hallway to a door that reads The Palace—every Queen needs a palace written in rose gold. I press the code to unlock the door, open it up for her, and usher her inside.