20. East

TWENTY

east

I'D NEVER PACKED so quickly in my life. Hell, I usually had someone do it for me, but not knowing where we were going or for how long had me stumped on what to bring. After all, we'd just be naked the whole time, right? Wasn't that what was about to go down? So what was the point of clothes?

Then again, I hated to be underdressed for any occasion, so I found myself tossing a random assortment of items into my leather weekender bag. As I zipped it shut, a message from an unknown number came through my phone.

UNKNOWN:

Five minutes

A thrill ran through me, anticipation making my body a live wire as I imagined King on the other side of that message, pulling up soon to whisk me away for a hot night. Or two. Maybe even three? It didn't fucking matter. I was ready.

I did a quick check of myself in the mirror, then grabbed my bag and headed out of the too-quiet condo. Screw West and JT and the dean and their pathetic Hamptons trip. That tragic mess was what happened when you let yourself get trapped in a relationship. It started out all hot and heavy, sex everywhere, and before you knew it, they had their claws in you deep and you were vacationing with their mom.

Not in a million fucking years.

As I stepped out of the elevator, I handed my bag to the staff waiting for me and headed through the lobby to wait for King's arrival. I wasn't sure if it would be him doing the honors or if he'd send a car.

What I didn't expect was for the same Rolls-Royce Phantom from the other night to pull in under the porte-cochère and idle expectantly. The driver, also the same one from before, rounded the car, greeting me by name with a curt nod before taking my bag from the staff and loading it into the trunk. Then he opened the rear door and ushered me inside.

The tantalizing scent of King's cologne in the enclosed space told me he was there before I saw him lounging casually in a pair of jeans and body-hugging navy sweater. Those dark eyes took in my every move as I debated where to sit.

Would his lap be too much, too soon?

Instead, I chose the seat beside him for now, leaving us separated only by the small console.

"You know, the last time I was in this limo it was Zac I was sitting next to." I ran my eyes around the interior. "Aren't we missing someone?"

The door shut behind me, and King inclined his head. "Yes, we're headed there next."

"I see." I preened a little at that. "So I was first."

"You were closest. Plus, I figured this would give us a moment to discuss your inability to keep your mouth shut. Something Zac doesn't have an issue with."

I eyed his spectacular body, my gaze landing on his lap. "I can think of several ways to keep me quiet."

"I'm serious, James." Quick as lightning King was gripping my chin and angling my face up to his. "What you were invited to last weekend, what you learned? It isn't some game. Twice this week you've spoken out of turn. You do it again, you're out."

"Fine." I bristled slightly at the dressing-down and jerked my face free. "Anyone ever tell you you're a hardass?"

"Yes. At least several times a week."

"Should be daily," I muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought. You have a lot to learn if you think I'm going to put up with your petulance over the next week."

Week? Did he just say a week ?

"I won't tolerate bratty behavior in any form. You're better than that. Prove it."

"And if I don't?"

King's eyebrow shot up at my, yes, bratty response.

"What can I say? Some habits are hard to break."

"Then you'll be punished."

If he wanted to deter me from acting out, he might want to change the way he was looking at me and issuing threats of punishment, because that voice had my dick standing up begging for him to do whatever the hell he wanted to me.

"Your wish is my command, King."

He cocked his head to the side, looking at me as though I'd spoken in another language.

"King?"

Oh, right. He didn't know we called him that. Or should I say, everyone at Astor called him that.

"Yes, don't tell me you haven't heard your nickname floating around school."

"I can't say that I have."

"I see you hate it." He actually looked pretty damn pleased with the title, which wasn't that surprising. Who wouldn't want to be viewed as a king?

"And tell me, did you and your friends come up with this or was it?—"

"A mutual kind of understanding throughout the student body, is more like it. You know, because you're terrifying in every way."

As King opened his mouth to respond, the car drew to a halt and he glanced over my shoulder toward the window. "We'll continue this discussion in a moment."

The door opened and our third and final passenger entered the vehicle. Zac climbed inside, his thick hair slightly windblown and his eyes shifting between the two of us from behind his glasses.

He moved to the seat opposite King as the door was shut behind him. "Hi," he said. "I see I'm the last one here."

Who was the jealous one now? Not that I'd been jealous this week. But Zac had been so smug about pointing out my disappointment in being left out, it felt good to finally have the upper hand. So good I almost said so, until King's warning of being a brat flashed to the forefront of my mind.

"James's place was closest. It made the most sense."

"That's fine. I don't care." Zac looked around the limo as it pulled away from the curb. "Isn't this the same car from the other night?"

"Yes. It's mine. Jorge is my driver."

"Wait a second." I turned in my seat to face King. "You own a Rolls-Royce Phantom?"

"I do."

I scoffed and looked to Zac, whose eyes had just turned the size of saucers. He remembered the cost of one of these. "You don't get a car like this on just a professor's salary."

"Who said I'm just a professor?"

As that little morsel was thrown out, I tried to make sense of the enigmatic man beside me, but it was useless. The more I learned, the more I realized I didn't know half as much as I thought I did—and that just wouldn't do.

"What does that mean?" Zac asked. "I organize your schedule and I've never seen anything but school-related business."

"I know."

"Because you want to keep it a secret?" I pushed, but King gave us nothing, the fucker. Instead, he looked back to Zac with a question of his own.

"Do you also call me King?"

Zac's cheeks flamed as he pinned me with a fulminating look. He shook his head but turned back to his boss, mentor, soon-to-be fuck buddy, and confessed, "Yes."

"I see." King leaned forward and reached for the crystal decanter beside Zac. "I like it. It's going to sound good the next time you're kneeling at my feet."

Zac swallowed, his eyes glued to his ultimate fantasy, as King moved back to his seat and looked across at me.

"You too."

Fuck yes it would. "I'm happy to do the honors right here and now… King ," I said. After all, why waste time talking when we could be getting right to it in the comfort of a spacious limo?

He eyed me over his glass. "Patience has never been your strong suit."

"No, sir."

"Unlike Zac. Who has the patience of a saint."

That was a laugh. "I wouldn't call him a saint. You haven't fucked him."

"Yet."

Zac was so still as he listened that I would've wondered if he was having any reaction at all, but then I could see the way he was holding on to his control by a fragile thread. He white-knuckled his armrest and propped his ankle up on top of his thigh to hide the way the fabric of his pants was pulled tightly across his hips.

There was a man dying to finally have his chance with King, and as he met my eyes, I saw the desire there didn't only extend to our professor.

"Tell you what," I said, holding Zac's stare. "You can go first."

King let out a low chuckle as he set his drink aside and stretched his long legs out in front of him. "You're used to always being in control, aren't you, James?"

"Yes."

"But you let Zac fuck you."

"So?"

King turned to Zac. "Does he always top from the bottom?"

Zac smirked. "He tries. All the fucking time."

"Good to know."

Silence descended then, as neither King nor Zac said anything else or made a move to get this party started. It was getting started, right? Maybe asking if I was always in control was King's way of telling me to take the lead, and I was more than happy to accommodate.

I unbuttoned one sleeve, then the other, and started to remove the ascot at my throat.

King raised a brow."Is it too warm in here for you?"

"Scorching, actually."

He tapped the screen on the console, and a rush of cold air filled the vehicle.

"There," he said, settling back in his seat. "That should cool you off."

I frowned, dropping my hands into my lap. "I'm confused."

"I think King's trying to tell you nothing's going to happen until we get to wherever we're going," Zac said, and I didn't miss the way King's eyes darkened in arousal at the use of his nickname.I looked to King for confirmation, and he nodded.

"Okaaay…" I said. "Well, do you want to fill us in on where that is?"

"No."

"Is it the secret lair?"

He pressed his lips together.

"Don't we need blindfolds if we're going there? Are you gonna tie us up this time too?"

"East"—Zac gestured toward the bar—"why don't you make a drink?"

"Do you really think that's going to make me less impatient?"

Truthfully, it couldn't hurt. I hated being left out of plans, but since King had given us a hell of a night before, I could relax and just go with it. Really, I could.

I reached for the bottle of vodka, and only then did I notice we'd crossed over into New Jersey on a route I knew all too well.

"Are we flying somewhere?"

"Why would you say that?" King said.

"Because we're coming up on Teterboro."

Zac looked out the window and frowned. "What's Teterboro?"

"Seriously? Do you not take private planes?"

He shrugged. "My family likes to travel commercial."

"My God, why?" A shiver racked my body, and I shook it off. Being stuck on a jet with hundreds of other passengers, terrible food, and crying kids would have me never wanting to travel again.

"Such a snob," Zac said, his mouth quirked in amusement at my horror. If he'd said it once, he'd said it a million times, but it didn't bother me. It just meant I had taste.

The limo passed through the security gate and toward a hangar, where an even nicer jet than the one my father had sat ready and waiting on the tarmac.

Damn, not bad.

"You two have another choice to make right now," King said. "You can stay in this car and it'll take you home. Or you can choose to spend the week with me."

Zac's lips parted. "A week?"

"Yes, that's my offer. Nothing more, nothing less."

I didn't even have to think about it. A no strings attached week with King and Zac? He couldn't have given me a better offer. "Hell yeah. I'm in."

"Me too." Excitement flared in Zac's eyes as he scooted to the edge of his seat and peered out the window again.

Jorge opened the door for us, and as Zac led the way out, I said, "Hold on, did you blow your savings to rent this? Because we were already impressed by your cock."

King pushed up his sleeves and looked down at me. "Remember what I said about being a brat."

"They get spanked?"

"Don't push it."

Zac stood at the trunk, reaching for his bag, but Jorge said a few words to him and he backed away.

"They load them for you," I said.

"I can carry my own bag a few feet."

"Why when you don't have to?"

Before he could hurl back a response about how entitled I was, I leaned in and surprised him by stealing a quick kiss.

"Just enjoy it. All your dreams are about to come true."

Zac blew out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "And where exactly will that be happening?"

King paused at the steps that led into the plane and gave us both a wink. "Come with me and you'll find out."