Just Say Yes (King Family, #5)

by Lena Hendrix

Due to recent personal events, I will be going off the fucking rails.

“Grandpa, we talked about this. You can’t hire hookers to have dinner with you because you’re lonely.”

To make things worse, she wasn’t just gorgeous. She was fire. And I’d basically hosed myself down in kerosene.

“It sounds a lot less gentlemanly and a lot more stalkery when you use the phrase hunt her down.” He swatted a hand at me. “They like that nowadays. My friend Greta says the bookish ones are into dark romance.”

“Relax, Thunder.” A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. “You might hurt yourself if you keep stomping around like that.” “Thunder?” she shouted, stepping forward. Because I was so much taller, her chin lifted higher, but she didn’t back down. Oh, I like that. From the corner of my vision, I noted curious eyes peeking from behind the high backs of the chairs, staring directly at us and soaking up our interaction. I scoffed and settled on my heels. “Yeah.” I gestured toward her small frame. “You’ve got this whole storm-cloud vibe happening. It’s cute.”

That tiny little spitfire was a lot less like a thundercloud and more like a tsunami.

“Look, I have no interest in Mr. Brown’s grandson or his mustache rides.”

Four little words. Four words that shouldn’t have felt like a win, but god, they did. Unknown I’ll think about it.

And just like that, my piss-poor mood evaporated. She was thinking about it. About me. And it made my whole damn day.

“Trust me, I’m exactly where I want to be.” The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. He wasn’t just casually flirting. He meant it. And that was more terrifying than anything he could have said.

“How do I get one of those?” Logan’s deep voice floated over my shoulder, and liquid heat followed in its wake. “A date?” I asked, turning to him. He crossed his arms and looked around JP’s property. “A date. One of those hugs. I’m not picky.”

My shirt hung loose on her, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs. It wasn’t just that she looked good—she looked like she belonged in it, like it was made for her.

And damn if that didn’t do something to me.

Every question was my way of checking for consent. Monitoring how comfortable she was with what we were doing.

She deserved to be worshipped.

She tasted better than anything I could imagine. She was fucking perfect.

My cock. My heart. Fuck, I would have given MJ anything she asked for in that moment.

One thing I knew for certain: This thing with MJ King was dangerous, and I had no intention of stopping.

“Hey,” he soothed, his demeanor morphing from playful to serious. “I meant what I said. Slow is good. That way, if I ever do get to have you, I’ll know I’ve earned you.”

My arms encircled her, stopping at the button to her jeans. “Is this okay?”

Love a consent king ! 🤭🫶🏻

I shifted, adjusting my hard cock and chuckling softly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Siren.” “Siren?” An eyebrow inched up her forehead. I grinned. “Gorgeous women who lure sailors to their deaths. I know a siren when I see one.”

“You don’t ever have to apologize to me for being honest. Your emotions don’t scare me.”

Wearing Logan Brown’s rugby jersey was not on my bingo card, but staring at my reflection in the hotel mirror, it was hard to deny that Wildhawks green and gold looked pretty damn good on me.

For years I’d convinced myself I wasn’t worthy of this kind of attention. But Logan’s actions today—the way he fought for me, the way he looked at me—told a different story.

I couldn’t disagree with her. There was absolutely no denying that watching Logan defend my honor had my inner feminist showing herself out the door.

Logan’s jaw flexed. “It’s not the color. It’s my name on your back. It tells everyone what you are.”

“And what’s that?” I asked as my stomach swooped.

His nostrils flared as one hand moved to grip the back o...

“Jesus, Julep. You feel so fucking good.” He moved again, and sparks fluttered in my belly. “Being buried inside you is unreal.”

His filthy words lit up my insides, stripping me of any insecurities and making me feel like a goddess.

But MJ? She wasn’t a trophy. She was everything.

Because for the first time in my life, I knew what really mattered. And it wasn’t a trophy. It was her.

“I love you, Julep. I love you in a way I didn’t ever think was possible. You make me want to be better, to do better, because for the first time, I don’t want to win alone. I want to build something real—with you.”

“Just say yes. Say yes to us. Say yes to a future where we figure out the messy stuff together. Because I’m not giving up on you, and I’m not giving up on us.”

“You’re mine, Julep,” he whispered, his voice low and certain. “And I’m yours. Always.”

And for the first time in my life, I was no longer afraid to say yes to all of it.