A Secret for a Secret (All In, #3)

by Helena Hunting

“You’re only twenty-four,” my dad says gently. “You have lots of time to find your passion, Queenie.

I don’t want you to feel like you have to pursue something because you think it’ll get you a job in a better pay grade. The money isn’t important. I want you to do what you love, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“She also happens to be my daughter, so don’t get any ideas, boys.” He somehow manages to wink and glare at the same time. And it just went from bad to worse. My one-night stand isn’t my GM’s girlfriend; she’s his daughter.

My mouth is suddenly dry and my nipples harden as the memories wash over me. Such a pretty boy. So nicely dressed, so polite. So very, very respectful. But good God, get that man’s clothes off and get him into a bed, and it’s a whole different story. One I’d like to write a few more chapters in, or maybe an entire novel—a long one. I took the Boy Scout out of the polo and unleashed a very dirty man.

Ronan laughs. “King and Queenie? That’s epic.” “We’re just friends,” I explain. Kingston’s fingers flex on my waist. “I’ll take a half pint of the house lager. Queenie, what would you like?” “Whoa, wait a second. He’ll have a pint of milk, and I’ll have a root beer.” I poke Kingston in the chest. “Alcohol and ax throwing do not go together.”

“I’m fully aware of your ability to have fun,” I whisper—or moan; I’m not sure which is more likely, all things considered. Kingston’s gaze darkens, and he strokes a finger gently from my temple to my chin. “Don’t bait me, Queenie. Guilt is not an emotion I enjoy experiencing.” He steps back but then links his pinkie with mine and tugs me toward the ax-throwing stalls.

“I’d like her to keep believing I’m a Boy Scout, even if you and I know that isn’t always true.”

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, Queenie. Then you might have some idea as to how incredible you really are.”

“Well, no, but I’d at least like to get his consent to date you.” He runs his palm down his chest and back up. “Oh. Right.” I guess he’s taking me seriously about convincing my dad it’s okay for me to get involved with him. “But I don’t see what that has to do with us having sex.” “I’d like to take you out for dinner first.” “What if we order room service?” “I mean, I’d like to take you on a proper date, where I pick you up at your house and bring you flowers and chocolate. Then I’ll take you out for a nice dinner.” “It’s kinda late to do that tonight, don’t you think?” I glance at the clock on the nightstand. It’s already ten. It’s way too late for a dinner date. A grin tips up the corner of his mouth, and he scratches his neck. “It is.”

“Uh, is this normal?” He glances at my hand, which is right by his now mostly erect, hot-pink peen. “We’re talking about sex, and you’re naked, and all I can smell and taste is you, so yeah, getting hard is normal.” “No, I mean this.” I poke one of the raised red welts below his navel and follow the visual trail that extends all the way up his chest, to his nipples, over his neck, and to his mouth. I can actually see it growing progressively worse with each passing second. “Are you having an allergic reaction? Oh my God, are you allergic to me?” “What? Oh hell!” King sits up in a rush and runs a hand from his pecs to his peen. “Do you have any allergies?” “Just strawberries. I get hives if I eat them or touch them.” We both look over at the takeout cup sitting on the desk on the other side of the room. I slap a hand over my mouth. “Oh God, I just had a strawberry milkshake. What should I do?” “I need an antihistamine. And some cortisone cream and possibly some EMLA cream.” King grimaces as he rolls off the bed and gets a good look at his dick. It’s sizable on a good day, but right now it’s swelling and bumpy and very much the wrong color. “I don’t know if I have any antihistamines, or any of that other stuff.”

“It’s okay if you want to lose control with me, King. I definitely want to lose control with you.”

“You may need to set some parameters for me, my queen, so I know how out of control I’m allowed to get here.” I shiver in anticipation at his low warning tone and this new endearment. “No parameters.” He pulls back, lips temptingly close. “None?”

“Lock the Boy Scout in the closet and let yourself off your leash, King.”

“What’re you doing? Don’t stop,” she whines. It’s my turn to laugh. “Don’t worry, my queen, you’ll get what you want.” My fingers are still twined in her hair. I drag my sex-wet finger across her bottom lip, then suck it between mine. “You taste like you’re ready to come,” I whisper. “Please, King.” She squeezes my erection.

“I get the shot. Every three months. I’m safe.” She bites her lip, uncertain. “You can pull out if you’re worried.” “I’ll make a mess of you.” “I don’t mind. We can take a shower together after.” She gives me a coy smile. “You can clean me up after you get me all dirty.” I laugh and shake my head. “You really are perfect for me, you know that?” “You’d be perfect for me if you’d stop teasing me and just fuck me already.”

“Make me yours.” She drags her fingertips down my cheek. “It’s all I want, just to be yours.” I curve my palm around the back of her neck and push inside on a low groan that she echoes. She arches, chin tipping back, eyes rolling up, and I shudder at the feel of her clenching around me. “God, Queenie, are you coming already?”

“Tell me,” she murmurs. “I want you to come while I’m inside you.” I suck her bottom lip and roll my hips again. “I want to covet every single one of your orgasms, and when I’m done with you there won’t be any question as to whether you’re mine.” “Was there ever really a question in the first place?” “Not for me, no.” She strokes the edge of my jaw, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “And are you mine?” I sweep my thumb along the side of her neck. “All yours.”

“Jeez, Queenie, how much harder do you want me to go?” “Why? You getting tired? Need to get on your back and let me do the work for a while?” She arches a challenging brow. “I’m more than happy to bounce around on your cock like you’re my personal pogo stick if you need a break.” “Are you questioning my stamina?” “Maybe we should do a couple of shots. You were a lot less restrained last time,” she goads. “Last time I wasn’t inside you.” I punctuate the statement with a heavy thrust. Queenie groans and slaps my ass a second time. “Again.” So I do. And it gets me another ass slap. “Stop slapping my ass.” “Or what?” She does it again. I give my head a slow shake. “Remember that you asked for it.”

Success and worth don’t need to be based on something as arbitrary as whether or not you have pieces in a gallery. It can definitely be part of your dream and your journey, but I’d hate for you to walk away from something you’re so obviously passionate about because you’ve allowed one person’s misguided jealousy to form your entire opinion of yourself.”

“I see you, Queenie. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re not worthy.”

“You can push me away as much as you want, but it’s not going to stop me from wanting you. I love you because of all these perceived flaws you have, not in spite of them. I know you’ve been let down a lot, and I don’t plan to be one of those people in your life. Give us a chance to get through this together, Queenie. Let me catch you when you fall. Let me be your safe place to land.”

I want all your dark secrets to be mine to keep. I want all your pieces, all the things that make you who you are. I don’t care if you think you’re bent or broken; let me love all of you.”

“What are you doing?” “I’m going home. I can only take so much humiliation in one week, and this situation puts me way over my quota.” “I’ll come with you.” I take a step toward her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?” She looks past me, and I glance over my shoulder to find my parents bursting out into the alley, followed by Jessica, again. “Your family is here for you. You need to stay and manage . . . whatever this is.” She brushes a tear away. “My battle armor already has enough dings in it today. I’m not sure it can take another round of hits from your family tonight. And honestly, I don’t want to meet them with your ex-girlfriend as a witness.” I don’t stop her when she gets into the cab and they drive away, because she’s right: I have to deal with my family and their thoughtlessness, and Queenie has been through more than enough this week.

We pull into Kingston’s driveway just after four thirty. My dad was all about getting there early for whatever reason, and I felt weird about him arriving and us not being there, so we left at the same time; however, since Kingston drives like a ninety-year-old on a Sunday, my father is already parked and standing beside his car when we arrive.

She hugs me, and suddenly I understand what a real mother is supposed to be. Not perfect, but protective. Willing to make mistakes and own them because sometimes love outweighs logic.

“Seriously, Kingston? You can’t tell me you’re going to make a meal out of me and then pull this whole seventy-five-point check deal.” “I just want to get you home safely.” “You mean you want to get me all worked up and tell me how much you love it when I’ve already soaked through my damn panties before you’ve even laid a finger on me.” She’s absolutely correct about that. It’s an incredible ego boost to be able to make her come within minutes of getting her naked, but I don’t tell her that since she already knows. “Someone’s testy.” “Yeah, well, that would be your fault, wouldn’t it?” She fastens her seat belt aggressively. She’s more worked up than usual. I put the car in gear, and signal out of my spot. “How is it my fault you’re testy?” “You show up here, looking all delicious, whispering naughty things in my ear, and now I have to try and sit here and be patient while you drive like a grandpa on a Sunday afternoon. It’s been eight damn days, Kingston. Eight days without you, or your tongue or your color commentary, or our mutual-gratification competitions. There will be no sweet and gentle tonight. I better have a hard time walking tomorrow morning. And teeth marks on my ass.” My erection kicks behind my fly. “I’ll certainly do my best to ensure the difficulty walking and the teeth marks, if that’s what you’d like.”

“Yes. It’s a yes. I’ll bring my chaos into your calm.” I place a soft kiss on her lips. “There’s no place I’d rather be than the eye of your storm.”

“I could always use more doses of my personal Valium,” I mumble against his lips. He chuckles at one of my many nicknames I have for him and the almost sedative-like effect he has on me at times. “And I can’t get enough of your chaos, so I think this arrangement is going to work well for both of us.” And I don’t doubt for a second that it will. He’s the calm to my storm. My still lake at dawn. My king.