Washed Up Royal Page 12

  She blinks, as if in deep thought. “I’m going as me, the woman I have always been but without the shroud.”

  I roll to my back and hold the phone up so we can both see the screen better. “If that is the case, my Princess, I fear you will also have it rough,” I tell her with brutal honesty.

  “Well, I will have to dye my hair back to blonde.”

  “I don’t mean the color of your hair. I mean you.”

  “Yes, well, they will have to adapt.”

  When I scroll to some other photos, the ones of her with the ginger-haired prince, I show her the photos. “There’s also the issue that I am not him,” I tell her. “Which is going to make the people of Alexandria quite upset. No one likes change.”

  Sighing, she leans in and lays her head on my shoulder, her body settling over mine. She feels so incredibly good. “Again, they will have to adapt.”

  I continue to scroll, still astonished the girl in the photos is the one with me right now.

  “Close that, please,” she tells me. “I don’t want to see any more of the pony show I had to put on for years, either.”

  With a laugh, I toss the phone to the foot of the bed and press my lips to her hair and inhale before saying, “We should talk about medical exams and birth control.”

  She lifts her head, one eyebrow raising in question.

  “Since we’re going to be married sooner than later, we might as well stop using condoms now. That way I can come inside you, on you, all over you if I want without any barriers between us.”

  Her eyes widen and she swallows as if the idea really turns her on. “Go on.”

  “Well, in order for us to do that, and not produce a royal heir before your coronation, we need to have an alternate method of birth control. While you arrange that, I’ll have a test so you know I’m clean.”

  “Shouldn’t I have one, too?”

  The thought of her with anyone else has my blood turning to ice. “Do you think you need one?”

  “Well,” she says, her cheeks flushing. “I’ve only ever been with Maximus, and he used condoms all—”

  I stop her with a look and shake my head. “I’m sure you’re clean, and I’ve been at sea for months, and not sexually active. So before you in Paris, it’s been a while for me. I can send for the test I was required to take prior to entering the race or have a new one.”

  She rolls on top of me. “I’ll have Rachel arrange for a doctor to come to the house this morning.”

  My brow rises. “I thought you were keeping your identity a secret?”

  “I am. I’m assuming Ava’s name for now, and the Montgomery’s have their own private physician on call, so it won’t be a problem. And you don’t have to show me your test results. I already told you, I trust you. If you tell me you’re clean, I believe you.”

  Reaching up, I curl my hand around her nape to pull her down so my lips settle against her forehead. “Then the matter is settled.”

  “Yes, but I’m afraid I’ll have to skip the sailing this morning.”

  “It’s worth one morning at sea. Tomorrow, though, bright and early.”

  Her smile goes wide. “I can’t wait. Now, about the Polo match on Saturday. Do you have proper attire with you?”

  Oh fuck, the grooming. “I have a polo shirt and I can pick up a new pair of chinos later today or tomorrow,” I tell her.

  She twists her lip. “Even though we’ll be in the general admission section, you should probably wear a dress shirt and blazer, seersucker would be best, and a tie.”

  General Admission I could give a shit about but…“Seersucker,” I groan. “Fuck no.”

  “Yes, it’s most appropriate.”

  It’s only clothes I suppose, even though I’ll feel like a real chump, I’ll do it…for her. “My cousin probably has a dozen. I’ll grab one of his.”

  “What about loafers?”

  Flipping us over so I’m on top, I stare down into her pale blue eyes. “I’m not a total barbarian. I have those. But if you say the words Panama hat next, I’m going to have to draw the line.”

  “Oh, no, don’t be silly,” she laughs, her hands going to my ass and circling my flesh. “But I will ask William to grab us binoculars. Oh, and perhaps bring a pair of Wellies just in case it rains.”

  Kissing my way down her neck, I refrain from making any derogatory comments about the water boots, but fuck, I’m in deep. So deep I’m willing to bite the bullet and clean up my rebel image for her.

  And fuck, won’t my mother be proud.

  RED

  The Eastwood Examiner

  A GOOD CAUSE

  THE PRINCE GAINS A NEW TITLE

  By Dominick Wilfork

  Exiting news. Adrien Laurent is the first navigator to become a partner of the Miller watch brand. This sailor, and cousin of King Rutherford, is barely 26 years old, but his reigning passion for sailing has made him a name in the world of entrepreneurs.

  The Regatta Flyback Chronograph has become all the rage. Sales are skyrocketing, and the company couldn’t be more pleased.

  The Prince and his red banded watch have been sighted recently on the high seas of the States. But is he preparing to set sail for someone else or merely vacationing after his little setback?

  We know Laurent has his sights set on the Transatlantic 2020 World Cup, but will King Rutherford back him or is he still seeing red? And if not, will the Prince go out on his own?

  Either way cheers to this young royal for bringing together his two identities in sponsoring ‘Sail for a Cause’.

  He really is a perfect match to Miller and provides the brand an exceptional opportunity to test the fitness for its nautical role.

  Good luck, mate.

  DID ANYONE SAY DIVOTS?

  Taming Adrien Laurent is proving much more difficult than I thought, especially since I rather like his rakish charm.

  We are standing under a tent and the horn has already blasted. When we’re about halfway through the first chukka, I glance over at Adrien.

  He’s got his hands in his chinos and he’s watching the sport with an intensity I only wish I had.

  Polo isn’t for equestrians really. Watching a man try to hit a small ball while on a horse seems rather roguish if you ask me, but I’ve come to so many matches, what’s one more.

  In truth, even posing as Ava, I’d rather not be here in a polka dot dress with a giant hat, sweating in the ninety-five degree heat, while standing up for hours.

  “Bored?” Adrien muses, grinning at me.

  Looking back at him, tingles of adrenaline become bells chiming loudly throughout my entire body. I’d rather be alone with him, naked, but duty does call. So, I shrug, and I swear he knows what I’m thinking because I can practically see the lust coiling in his dark gaze just from the quick glance I give him.

  Pulling something shiny from his pocket, he hands it to me. “I got you a little something when I was shopping for new pants.”

  I take it from him and stare down at the small sailboat, the twin canvases encrusted with diamonds and the bottom filled with the palest of sapphires. “It’s beautiful,” I tell him.

  His eyes dip, shy-like, and my belly flutters. “The sapphires match your eyes.”

  My heart is beating madly when I hand it back to him. “Help me put it on,” I tell him and turn so he can fasten it in back.

  His fingers dance on my skin and I wonder if this is what life is all about. The feelings. The attraction. The need. It’s maddening and beautiful at the same time.

  When he finishes, I whirl back to him, taking in his fierce expression. “This means so much to me. Thank you, Adrien. Every time I look at it, or touch it, I’ll think of you,” I tell him.

  He smiles. “Yeah, I wanted something to match your eyes, but I also wanted something that reflected me.”

  Tears bite the corners of my eyes and I suck in a breath so I don’t lose the battle and let them fall.

  Princesses do not cry.

  A pool of
yearning swirls in my stomach when I notice the shifting blues in his own eyes. Like a kaleidoscope, they twist and turn until I can hardly see anything at all. Just him. Just his pupils, dark as night and light as day and savagely hungry. He squeezes my waist with one hand and captures my face with the other, staring at my mouth when he does.

  Oh, God, my knees are so weak.

  His palm is warm against my skin and I lift my head, seeking more of him. Before I know it, he’s kissing me.

  In public.

  Princesses do not kiss in public—ever.

  When he makes a sound deep in his throat, and I release a startled whimper, he stops the kiss and then whispers in my ear, “You undo me, Tori. You completely and utterly undo me.”

  I finger the jewel at my neck, knowing it will be the most precious thing I will ever own because it came from his heart. “And you me.”

  He holds out his hand. “Come with me.”

  “Where to? We have participate in the divot stomping at halftime. It’s so much fun and I don’t want to miss it.”

  A quick look at his red-banded watch has him musing, “Plenty of time.”

  Dante gives Adrien a glance, and Adrien gives him a nod. They’ve developed a secret language of sorts and whatever it is, Dante doesn’t follow us.

  The Veuve Clicquot Polo Classic is taking place at the Gardner Seveney Sports Complex. Pastel shorts, collared shirts, sundresses, and fabulous hats are everywhere as Adrien leads us through the sea of color and toward the club house.

  On the back lawn, people are strolling around dressed in the Veuve colorway and drinking champagne. Vendors are selling Veuve Clicquot blankets, umbrellas, and glasses.

  Veuve Clicquot is everywhere, but he’s all I see.

  We pass a gathering of people congregating and almost all the women have sweaters over shoulders. It’s ninety-five degrees out here! Thank goodness, Ava found me a suitable sundress.

  Walking through the doors, the air-conditioning hits me immediately and I sigh in delight.

  Adrien stops at reception and asks where the restrooms are. Oh, good idea. I can splash some water on my face.

  Down a hallway, we find three doors—Men, Women, and Family. The vacant sign is displayed on each of them since there are closer restrooms outdoors.

  “I’ll meet you back out here,” I tell him, breaking away from his hold to step into the women’s lavatory.

  With one smooth tug, he has me inside the family restroom and pressed against the wall, my hat landing on the ground.

  “You can’t be in here,” I gasp.

  Locking the door with ease, he removes his jacket and tosses it to a bench beside us. “Can’t? I don’t believe that is a word I know.”

  I’m shaking my head.

  Despite his rebel tendencies, we absolutely can’t do this.

  Not here.

  In public.

  Princesses do not mess around where anyone might catch them.

  Telling myself this is all well and good, but it’s no use. The glimpse of muscular ripple under the fabric of his shirt doesn’t help get my knees into any state to be able to walk away.

  Then he unknots his tie and pulls it loose, his biceps flexing under his shirt most deliciously, and I wonder if I even have legs anymore.

  My eyes are watching him, staring at him, actually. I might even be drooling. I should be embarrassed, but I can’t stop from looking at him. Something about him calls to me in the most visceral way.

  Still, I can’t do this.

  I shouldn’t.

  Not here.

  His hair falls over his eyes and he rakes his fingers through the top of it to push it away and he looks way too good to resist.

  Screw it.

  Unable to stand one more second of not having those big hands all over me or those plush lips on me, I slide my hand up his chest. “I suppose we can. The door is locked, after all.”

  With a wicked grin, he meets my eyes with the most blazing force, and I swear I’m chasing my own breath.

  Ducking his head, he kisses the edge of my mouth. My eyelids sweep closed from the sweet sensation racing to my core.

  He takes my face in his calloused palms, and then passionately fastens his lips against mine. And in response, I run my hands all over him. Up and down. Everything about him is hard.

  His strong jaw.

  His wide chest.

  His muscular arms.

  And those big hands.

  But, oh, God, his lips. They are warm and soft and kissing me hungrily. His tongue sweeps into my mouth and makes me melt into him. I’m desperate and aching, as if I haven’t had him in years when in truth, he and I had sex on his catamaran this morning.

  The way our tongues are meeting, all hot and damp, and licking, I know my lipgloss will be ruined, but I don’t care. I could kiss him for days.

  He reaches down, grabs my hand and then drags me toward the vanity. I wasn’t entirely clear what we were about to do in the public restroom anyway, but my senses suddenly go on high alert when he sits in the chair, pushing it back just a bit from the counter.

  “Take your panties off,” he says bluntly.

  Nervously, I glance back at the door and then quickly toward him.

  “The door is locked, Tori,” he says impatiently. “Now take your panties off.”

  “Adrien,” I swallow but he gives me the sexiest look and before I know it, I’m hurrying to push the silk down my hips.

  He takes them from me and puts them in the pocket of his seersucker jacket.

  “Now lift your dress,” he directs me.

  Baring the naked lower half of my body to his smoldering eyes, I feel my breath hiccup. He’s going to take me here, in a public place, and that is very much against royal protocol and I’m going to love it, which is positively treacherous.

  To my surprise, he doesn’t completely undress or tell me to turn around to take me from behind. Which, I’ve discovered, is the much easier way to have sex when there isn’t a bed around.

  Pulling me between his thighs, I let out a small gasp of surprise as his hands circle my waist and he lifts me onto the counter, perching me on the edge.

  He leans his body forward. “I have the perfect way to alleviate your boredom,” he says in a gruff tone.

  “Adrien.” His name is a breathless whisper.

  “Lean back, Sweet Thing,” he says in a softer tone. “And get comfortable while I help you pass the time.”

  Holy God. My breath catches and exhales roughly from my mouth as I do just that.

  We’ve been together for three days and although he’s teased me with his tongue down there plenty, I haven’t let him do much more.

  In truth, I never let Maximus go down on me because I could never find my release. Once I faked it and he knew right away, so after that, I always just said I preferred his penis to his mouth.

  “Adrien,” I whisper, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “No, it isn’t. It’s a great idea,” he tells me, positioning his mouth right over my sex. Oh, God, now I can feel his warm breath.

  When he spreads my thighs, baring my secret place, I admit, “I might not come. The experience has never been…fulfilling for me.”

  “Oh, you will come,” he tells me, running one finger down the center of my sex and then using two fingers to open me. “And I promise you, you’ll find it very satisfying.”

  Lowering his head, his tongue sweeps over me, and my entire body nearly convulses in reaction. As he toys with me, he swirls his tongue around and then sucks me with gentle tugs, and I feel electrified.

  Desire pools low in my belly, flaming like wildfire to every other part of my body. Each swipe of his tongue has me inching closer to the edge. And I can’t believe but I feel an orgasm building so quickly that I have gasp for breath.

  He kisses and licks me, flicking his tongue slow and fast until he’s fucking me with his mouth.

  Oh, God. My body is straining, tightening with every stroke, m
y orgasm blooming and desperate for release. But Adrien isn’t in any hurry. In fact, he’s working me up and easing me back down on purpose.

  “Adrien, please,” I moan.

  His dark eyes glance up. “Not yet, Princess. I want to make sure you come.”

  Princess.

  A term I don’t typically care for him to use to address me, but right now, it sounds way too sexy to even think about protesting.

  Besides, I’m on the brink of absolute madness. Arching up to bring my body closer to his mouth, I whisper, “Adrien, please, I need to come.”

  He chuckles, and the sound vibrates over my sex and drives me higher and higher at the same time. “You taste way too sweet to stop now,” he says, lapping at me like I’m his last meal. “I might just stay here and eat your sweet pussy all afternoon just to make sure your orgasm is fulfilling.”

  Damn me and my honesty.

  He works his finger deep inside me and I moan very loudly.

  “You could beg me, Tori,” he says, his tongue darting inside me along with his fingers in such a way that has me curling my toes in my sandals.

  Beg.

  Princesses don’t beg.

  “Please, Adrien, let me come,” I beg, and my entire body is already shaking from the urge to explode.

  “When we get back to the house, you’re going to cancel tonight’s lesson on proper royal waving and tell William he’s to leave dinner outside the door.”

  “Yes, anything,” I call out.

  “And then I’m going to fuck you with my mouth and cock all night long until you’re so fulfilled, you can’t see straight.”

  “I can’t see straight now!” I cry out.

  He laughs but then plunges two fingers inside me as he sucks harder and harder at my sex.

  The explosion is bright and earth-shattering. I completely come apart, splintering into a hundred different pieces and then coming back to together in the most glorious way.

  Falling back against the mirror, I look down at him. There are so many emotions I’m feeling toward him and one of them could very well be love.