Ruthless King (New Orleans Malones #4)

Chapter 25

25

J illy slumped back in the bath.

She’d told him to leave. Damn, she was an idiot.

Sure, it was for the best. But now she felt unbearably sad.

Lonely.

She was just so damn lonely. Sure, she had some good friends. But it wasn’t the same as having someone to come home to every day. To hug. To give a shit about how she was. Someone who cared if she had food in the house, if she was getting enough sleep, to scold her for taking the bus late at night.

All things Regent had done.

Out of obligation.

Jilly wanted someone who loved her. Was that too much to ask for?

The bath was growing cold and the towel she’d wrapped around her wet hair was heavy.

Get up and dressed. Maybe you’ll be well enough to make tonight’s shift.

Climbing from the bath, she had to sit down on its lip suddenly as a wave of dizziness washed through her.

Shoot.

Okay, maybe she wasn’t up for a shift tonight.

Santé was going to be furious. Grabbing her phone, which she’d brought in with her, she sent him a quick text.

Then she saw she had some other messages from Mrs. Y, Sasha, Scott, and Dan.

Dan: Who are all the badass hotties hanging out around your house? If you’ve decided to hold an orgy without inviting me, you’re in such trouble. Don’t tell Scott I said that.

Scott: What is going on? Are you in trouble? Dan said there are strange men at your house. I’ll be home tonight and I’m coming over.

Oh, dear Lord.

She sent a quick text back to them.

Jilly: Nothing is going on. Just some friends come to stay. They’ll be gone soon.

Next, she looked at the one from Sasha.

Sasha: You feeling okay? Coming in tonight?

Okay, at least Sasha wasn’t asking her about the strange men.

Who else was here except for Regent? Well, she guessed Jose might be lurking around. But was that really enough for an orgy?

Hmm. Maybe it was.

Jilly: Still unwell. I’ve messaged Santé. Thanks for your help last night.

Sasha: Just don’t take too much time off, you know how Santé is.

Nice to see that Sasha was worried about her health. But she knew what the other woman meant. Santé could easily replace her and she still needed to work for a few more months to get her head above water.

She checked the one from Mrs. Yards last.

Mrs. Yards: My incantation worked. Every night, I’ve been putting it out into the universe that you need a good, hunky man. Of course, it might have worked too well, as you seem to have a lot, dear. Remember, bathing with Epsom salts will soothe things down there and lube is your friend. I dropped a gift off to one of your young gentlemen friends. The one that’s always driving that Bentley. Have fun.

Oh. Fuck.

Regent was about to text Lottie and ask her what she liked when she was ill when the bathroom door swung open, and Jilly raced into the room.

Wearing nothing but a towel.

Well, two towels, but the one she’d had wrapped around her head slipped off as she rushed through the bedroom.

“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” He managed to slide between her and the bedroom door just before she ran out.

“I need to go find Jose. Get out of the way.”

“One, you’re not well enough to be running around. Two, what do you need with Jose that I can’t help with? And three, you are not going anywhere dressed like that!”

“Dressed like . . .” She squealed and raced back into the bathroom, slamming the door.

“Stop running!” he ordered.

“Why didn’t you tell me I wasn’t dressed?” she wailed.

“Strangely enough, I thought you would have realized that.”

The door opened again and she glared up at him. She was wearing a pair of oversized pajamas. He instantly hated them. They were an ugly brown color and swamped her petite figure.

Were they men’s pajamas?

“Take them off,” he ordered.

“What?” She gaped up at him. Her hair was messy and wet.

“Your pajamas. I’ll find you some other pajamas to get changed into.”

That hadn’t belonged to a former boyfriend.

Yeah. He was behaving like a possessive bastard.

But he couldn’t stop.

“I need to talk to Jose,” she said.

What? Why would she need to speak to Jose? She shouldn’t ever need to speak to anyone else but him.

Wow. Yeah. His possessiveness was growing.

“No, you don’t. Whatever you want, you can tell me. After you get out of those pajamas.”

“What’s wrong with these pajamas?” she asked, glancing down at them.

Besides the fact that they were obviously men’s pajamas? That they’d likely belonged to a man who’d had his hands all over her . . . when she belonged to him?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

“You’re getting them all wet,” he managed to say after several moments. “You’ll get ill.”

“I’m already ill.” She coughed, sounding far too chesty for his liking.

“You’ll catch pneumonia. Here, I’ll find you some other ones. Do you have something to dry your hair?”

As soon as he moved away from the door, she darted toward it. But he was too quick for her. He grabbed her, pulling her up into his arms.

“Let me go!”

“No. Now stop misbehaving and do as you’re told.” He placed her on the bed and put a finger in her face. “Move, and there will be consequences.”

“What sort?”

“When you’re feeling better, I’ll put you over my knee and spank your ass.”

Her mouth opened and closed. But she stayed where he’d put her as he grabbed some new pajamas. These were silky white with colorful butterflies on them.

“Pretty sure you’re supposed to take a girl out for dinner first. Maybe kiss her. Then talk about things like limits and safewords.”

“Not a Dom, baby. Not like what you’re talking about anyway.” Although he was interested in how much she knew of Dominants and what sort of experience she had. “I’m just a man who is always in charge. And who dishes out consequences for disobedience.”

“So you spank everyone who disobeys you?” she asked incredulously.

“Nope. Just you.”

God, she looked so cute when she was in shock. Her mouth opened and closed . . . like a goldfish. He knew better than to tell her that, though.

“Just me?”

“Yes. Although no one else disobeys me.”

A huff of exasperation left her. Grabbing up her pajamas, she headed into the bathroom.

“Put a towel around your shoulders and bring back your hairdryer,” he ordered.

When he heard the hairdryer start up, he moved to the bathroom door.

This girl.

She was seriously testing him. And his hand was itching to teach her a lesson.

From now on, he’d be keeping track.

And there would be a reckoning.