When A Playboy Loves

|| 22.

Utianle

Seated on the edge of the bed, hands in between my legs, I stared at nothing in particular. King's bedroom was as I last remembered it: spacious, neat and well organized. A distinct but gentle scent lingered in the air, making it easy to forget what the outside world smelt like. 

His walls were coated in cream paint, reminding me of the one in my room that had changed colours, all thanks to having children who thought it fun to rub their hands on the wall. The bedsheets were as usual: very white and spotless, laid without wrinkles on a bed that could accommodate three more people of my size. 

Buzzing from the AC reached my ears but it was comforting. I folded my arms on my laps and sighed; maybe my attitude from earlier was a bit extreme. His crushed expression when I didn't return his hug or tried to remain aloof was weighing down on my conscience. But I had to remember that I was doing it for both of our sake.

If only he was one to easily accept no for an answer, then it wouldn't have been this difficult. I wouldn't even be here battling with Cynthia's voice in my head that was repeatedly going on and on about how unfair it was to lead King on.

Patting one of the pillows that were lining the centre of the bed eased some of my worries. Maybe it was the tiredness that was making me think too much about this.

"What are you doing?" 

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of King's voice. My left hand pressed against my chest which was heaving and my head turned to glare at him softly.

He was standing in front of the navy blue sofa, a white towel draped around his waist with a shorter towel wiping his wet hair. For some reasons, seeing him in front of that couch made me smile, the memories from that day only helping to broaden the smile on my lips. I could still remember how gentle he had been with me.

"Uti?"

"Yes?" He chuckled, throwing the short towel on the couch. Then I remembered his question, "I'm creating boundaries." 

My eyes trailed to his upper body, landing on the tiny nipples that seemed to harden under my gaze and I quickly averted my eyes. I bit down on my lip to keep from taking a second look at him, trying to find something of interest on the tiled floors.

It was futile and my eyes soon found his torso again. Drops of water gleamed on his chocolate skin, rolling down his neck to his toned chest. Following the straight line in the middle of his abs, the droplets continued until they finally disappeared into the towel hanging from his waist.

When my gaze landed back on King's face, there was a smirk adorning his lips and one hand now on his hip. 

"If you use all the pillows to create 'boundaries', where will we rest our heads?"

There were six pillows on his bed and all six of them were in the middle, serving as some kind of barrier between us. Though he promised not to do anything without my permission, I couldn't trust myself with him in such close proximity.

I should never have agreed to this.

"Sleeping without a pillow is good for your spine," I defended, already standing up.

"Really?"

His hand dropped from his hip, the smile on his face faltered. His eyes grew darker, challenging me and my confidence wavered. His body on display did nothing to help my cause and I would have very much appreciated if he had a shirt on, anything to conceal his gorgeous body.

"I think so."

"Usually, I sleep naked," he took one step forward then paused as if to let his words sink in. "I won't be doing that tonight but if you don't return the pillows ..."