Mr. King [Book 1]

Ten

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" Katherine panicked as she looked at the black slacks in her hands, standing in the vast laundry room of the apartment.

The threading and weaving of Mr. King's very expensive slacks was torn and bunched and completely ruined. And only now, as she was staring at yet another laundry mishap, she was realizing that maybe she should have read the tags that said plain-as-fucking-day 'DRY CLEAN ONLY'.

She was really in for it now. Strike two. Mr. King was going to probably lose it. Would she get special treatment because he was fucking her – literally two, maybe three hours before?

She somehow seriously doubted it. Mr. King was not one to hold his temper. When he didn't like something, he let it be known. If Katherine was doing something incorrectly, there was no holding his tongue. He was precise and articulate and he expected everyone around him to be that way too. And of course, her philosophy was that perfectionism just leads to an unhappy life. But then again, her philosophy wasn't going to help her any right now. Her unfortunate error was going to get her reprimanded, or worse – fired.

After their little impromptu screw on his desk, Katherine did exactly what he wanted her to do. He sat in the chair, wearing only his slacks, watching as she wiped down the desktop – in which he insisted she stay naked. It was arousing to say the least – which completely caught her off guard.

At first, she was entirely put off by it – not thinking he'd actually make her do it. But as she got into it and saw the lust swirling in his eyes as he watched her, she played along and honestly enjoyed it – maybe a little too much. If there weren't other people floating around the house all day long – i.e. his security team – then she might seriously consider working naked for him more often, if he so desired. But alas, she was not going to give the whole house a peep show.

It wasn't long after finishing up that Harrison – er, Mr. King needed to leave the house for a meeting. The only reason Katherine knew this was because she overheard him and his head security guard, Mr. Roberts talking about it. So therefore, she was left with the rest of the cooking and cleaning and laundry. And Christ, was she going to be in trouble when he came home to find yet another expensive piece of his clothing completely ruined because of her neglect.

It wasn't until after she finished dinner and had to find a way to keep it warm for him, that Mr. King arrived home. He looked thoroughly beat as he sauntered in, Mr. Roberts trailing behind him. Katherine watched from the kitchen as he loosened the tie around his neck and unbuttoned the top few buttons of the blue dress shirt he wore. Even through his exhaustion he was all sorts of sexy and she felt her body react to him immediately, having to bite her bottom lip and avert her eyes away from him to keep her composure from slipping.

"Good evening, Mr. King. Dinner is waiting whenever you're... ready," Katherine said quickly, stammering only when his watchful eyes met hers.

"Good. I'll eat now," he said firmly as he moved toward the kitchen.

"S-sure," she said, turning toward the oven that housed the meal she prepared.

Katherine moved around the kitchen swiftly, feeling his gaze on her the whole time. It felt different this time because they weren't stuck in an awkward limbo – except she would soon have to break the news of her unfortunate incident in the laundry room.

She set the plate of food in front of him and filled his glass of wine, giving him a small smile before she returned the rest of the food to the oven to keep it warm and re-corked the wine bottle before placing it in the wine chiller.

"Thank you, Miss Mason," Mr. King said promptly.

"You're very welcome, sir," she replied, giving him a nod, lingering only a bit longer than she usually would before making her way out of the kitchen to give him his privacy.

She didn't expect him to ask her to have dinner with him again, but there was definitely a part of her that was a little disappointed when he didn't. She did have to remind herself that just because they had fucked, it didn't make her his girlfriend by any means. She was still just the help.

...

Katherine hid the ruined slacks in the laundry room with the rest of his clothes from that load for an entire day before she decided to finish her job and put them away. She would have to face the wrath of Mr. King eventually, even though she was terrified of it.

As she was putting away the clothing in his closet, she heard him come into the bedroom. She froze, looking down at the ruined slacks in the laundry basket.

"Miss Mason," she heard him say as he stood in the doorway of the closet. He seemed slightly put-off that she was in his space and it only made her anxiety over telling him about the ruined slacks inflame inside of her.

"Mr. King," she breathed, feeling her cheeks burn as she stood there uncomfortably gripping the laundry basket in her arms.

He didn't say anything else, his penetrating eyes just stared into hers and made her feel like he was already scolding her.

"Um, sir," she said quietly, almost inaudibly.

"What is it, Miss Mason?" He asked with a hint of impatience in his tone.

"Sir, your slacks... that you wore... the other night..." she stammered, barely able to even keep her eyes on his.

"Yes, my slacks," he said with a nod, his jaw clenching, waiting for her to get the words out.

"I... I didn't... I didn't read that they were dry clean only," she told him as she furrowed her eyebrows in a mixture of fear and concern.

Katherine watched as Mr. King's vision immediately darted down to the laundry basket in her arms.

"I'm so sorry, sir," she murmured as his intense eyes shot back up to hers, his look was almost livid.

He stepped forward toward the laundry basket and it took all she had in her not to take a step back from him. She could see the anger on his face as he reached into the basket and pulled the slacks out.

"I-I didn't mean—" She nearly whimpered, but cut herself off when his eyes snapped up to hers again in an icy stare.

He wasn't saying anything and it just made everything worse. She heard him huff out a breath as he looked down at the destroyed garment, before throwing it back into the basket. Katherine was speechless, in fear that she might set him off further if she spoke. And they just stood like that for a few moments – Katherine, cowering in suspense and Mr. King, so fucking sublimely angry at her.

"I feel the need to punish you right now," he said finally, his voice coming out dark and husky.

"Punish me?" She choked out, cowering under his powerful stare.

"Yes, Miss Mason. Have you ever been punished?" He snapped at her, his eyes all fire and brimstone.

"W-what do you mean?" She stammered, feeling so confused.

Was he going to deduct her pay? Was he going to give her extra chores to do? What could he do that could really punish her besides firing her altogether?

His eyes burned into her and she could tell his mind was going a mile a minute – between his unrivaled anger over his ruined garment and the fact that he was thinking up ways to punish her, he was pretty much scaring the shit out of her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, bowing her head when he didn't answer her.

"Come with me, Miss Mason," he said sternly as he turned toward the door and left the closet altogether.