by Kim Karr
Damn…looks like I need a cold shower and then an escape plan.
NOTHING UGLY
The walls shimmer in pale colors under the dim lights. Being escorted through the back entrance, I’m passing by the dining room in seconds.
Looking in, I can see people sitting at white linen-covered tables under art-deco prints, laughing, talking, drinking. With one whiff, I catch the scent of French cooking—sage, burgundy, thyme, duck, and my stomach rumbles.
Seriously?
I think I forgot to eat this evening with all the socializing I was doing. And then because that drink went to my head, I landed in the coat closet with Max.
I blame the Cosmo.
The gleam of brass rails ahead forms a path to a quiet hallway. With a man on each side of me, I only wait a matter of seconds before the private elevator doors open.
The guy to my right doesn’t move. The one to the left steps inside with me. He has dark hair that curls into the collar of his jacket. His face is clean-shaven and his eyes are hidden behind mirrored glasses, even though it’s nearly eleven.
All I know is his name is Gabriel, and he was sent to bring me to Prince Maximus.
Prince Maximus.
His royal title is becoming all too real.
Inside the elevator, I glance at my reflection. Before Max texted me, I had already removed all my makeup, showered, and pinned my hair up into a messy bun.
Having slid into my favorite pair of faded jeans with the holes in the legs, I also threw on a cami and covered it with a black off-the-shoulder top. Looking down I have to laugh; my Converse are on my feet.
I am so not dressed to meet with a Prince.
The Prince.
Max.
Then again I’m here because I’m a hopeless romantic who needs to make sure he’s okay. See him in the flesh. Assure myself he’s not wounded. That he’s the frog I remember (Okay, maybe not a frog).
The elevator doors open, and I step out into the most luxurious hotel suite I’ve ever seen.
Seriously, this looks more like a place where royalty lives than a hotel suite. The space is a refined blend of European classicism and American modernism with a sumptuous wood-burning fireplace roaring in the living room.
There’s also a gourmet kitchen, a dining conservatory, and a sweeping view of the city that is to die for.
“He’s up there,” Gabriel tells me, pointing to the spiral staircase that leads to a closed door.
“Can I please have my phone back now?”
He shakes his head. “Not until we return you to your flat.”
Whatever.
With my heart fluttering and my chest a tightened knot of worry, I start up the steps. I only agreed to come here to make certain he is truly okay. I mean, a man with a knife tried to attack him.
I will stay long enough to be assured he is perfectly fine and make sure he is going to take precautions to protect himself from now on and then I will leave.
Besides, not coming would have meant him coming to me. And that would have put him in danger, and I couldn’t do that.
I knock.
Wait.
Knock some more.
Oh, God, is he dead on the floor?
Flinging the door open, I find the lights on, and his evening clothes scattered all over the floor.
Jacket.
Bowtie.
Gleaming cufflinks.
Slacks.
Black boxers.
My heart is going thump-thump-thump.
Glancing over at the bathroom door, my eyes widen as it opens. Steam pours out, and Max appears wearing nothing but a white towel around his lean waist.
Holy hell.
He shakes his head and then grins at the sight of me. “You decided to come. I didn’t think you would.”
Our eyes lock. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”
That heart-stopping grin grows wider. “We always have choices, Gigi, I think we’ve discussed that.”
I know if I drop my gaze I’ll see little water droplets trickling down his rock-hard abs and right into the fold of the fabric. My heartbeat quickens, and my pulse skyrockets when I recall what’s beneath that lucky terrycloth. “Well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
He holds his arms out. “Not a scratch on me.”
Folding my arms over my chest, I nod and try really hard not to stare at the way his biceps flex and bulge. “Good. I’m glad. And I wanted to discuss something else with you.”
Striding toward the mini bar, he offers, “How about a drink first?”
“Sure, I guess that will be fine.” My voice is husky from the wicked thoughts of what’s beneath that towel.
He catches my tone, and his eyes dip to my mouth. “Come in and take a seat. It sounds serious.”
Walking toward the seating area, I can feel the heat of his gaze singeing my jean-clad ass. “I’m not staying long. One drink, that’s all.”
“The bed is much more comfortable, Gigi.”
Without looking back, I keep walking. “Max,” I say in warning.
“Gigi.”
Half turning, I can see his eyes go wide with mock innocence. “Sitting on the bed doesn’t mean fucking. The sofa is short and very stiff. It’s been a long day. I’d like to stretch my legs out.”
The pillows haven’t even been touched, so I know he hasn’t come close to sitting on it, but yes, I can tell the large, fluffy bed will most definitely be more comfortable, and my feet are killing me from the heels I wore earlier. “Okay, but you stay on your side.”
“Brandy okay?” he asks, already pouring.
Turning back toward him, I notice he is aroused under his towel, and my lower belly flips in response. “Yes,” I manage as I head to the window and glance outside in hopes that the coolness of the glass will extinguish the burst of flames between my thighs.
With two glasses of amber liquid in his hands, he strides toward me. The look he’s giving me tells me he wants to bend me over the writing desk and fuck me senseless. And God, I want him too. I really do. “The view is incredible.”
He’s behind me, glass coming around to my front as his body presses against mine. “It is.”
“Maybe you should put some clothes on?”
“I’m fine like this.”
Taking the drink, I inhale sharply and curse the butterflies in my stomach, the melty sensation in my knees, the trembling in my hands. “Max, we can’t do this anymore.”
“But we can.” His voice is raspier, rougher, full of need. When his tongue licks my earlobe, I forget why we can’t and lean back against him. “It’s actually fairly easy.”
I part my lips just to breathe when his huge erection swells prominently against the small of my back.
“All I have to do is strip you down, take this towel off, and sink inside you.”
God, I want that.
I want it so much.
“I didn’t mean we can’t physically be together,” I laugh. “I mean we shouldn’t be together. You’re my boss, and I signed a contract that states no fraternization.”
He turns me around to face him. “I’ll tear it up.”
Easing back, I take a sip of my drink. “You can’t.”
“I can. All I have to do is rip it into two.”
I laugh again. “Okay, you shouldn’t.”
“Then I’ll quit.”
Now I roar with laughter. “You can’t. You own the magazine.”
Over the rim of his glass, he says, “Exactly. And so it comes back to what we already discussed. You don’t report directly to me, so the fraternization policy falls into a gray area.”
I take another sip of the delicious liquor. “I think we both know that’s subjective, Max, not objective.”
Shrugging, he downs his drink and walks toward the door. “It won’t be after I have one of my attorneys examine it and prepare an addendum.”
I frown a little. “Where are you going?”
Glancing at me over his shoulder, his lips curl,
a glint of mischief entering his gaze. “Nowhere. I’m closing the door. You said you had something you wanted to discuss with me and I think it to be rather private.”
After he not only closes the door, but also locks it, he strides to the bed and sits down before glancing up at me. “Come here. I want to hear what you have to say.”
Regardless of what l know I shouldn’t do, I’m pulled to him in the most basic way. Walking around to the other side of the bed, I sit down. Setting my glass down, I kick my Converse off before pulling my legs up and turning toward him. “Ava heard from her sister that you’re supposed to have security around you all the time. However, ever since we met, you haven’t allowed them to do their job.”
His voice is thick. “That’s because I haven’t needed their services.”
“But you did tonight,” I murmur, closing my eyes.
“And I had them.”
I open my eyes, and he’s sipping his liquor, devouring me with a small smile. He’s so virile, so male, and I can’t help but feel the overwhelming desire that pulses around us. God, I want to rip his towel off and climb on top of him. “What about in the future? Not just at public events. Will you have the security team with you all the time like you do tonight? Because you really should.”
He laughs softly, setting his glass aside. “Awww…you’re worried about me. That’s sweet.”
I stare at him in anger. “Max! This isn’t funny. I’m serious—”
He swoops across the huge bed and rolls us to the middle so that he’s hovering over me.
“I’m serious,” I repeat. “You could be hurt, or worse.”
Pressing his mouth to mine, he whispers, “Will you be by my side if I do? Because if not, I’m not really worried about it.”
“Max, that’s blackmail.”
“Call it whatever you want if it means you’ll be by my side.”
“I already told you that’s not a good idea,” I answer honestly.
“And I already told you I’d take care of the issue.” He sweeps his tongue between my lips, making low seductive sounds as he takes my mouth hard and fast.
Everything about us is hard and fast.
Pulling back, he stares down at me with the most intense gaze. “Something is happening between us, Gigi, and I want to explore this feeling.”
There are stars in my eyes when I look up at him. “It would be so easy to get lost in the way you look at me. So easy to just be with you, Max. But I need my job, and even if you fix things so us being together isn’t an issue, there’s also the fact that you’re royalty. Royalty. And I am not.”
Something I haven’t admitted out loud because I know it means no matter what, even if we are together, we can’t stay together.
His eyes glitter as he stares down at me. “You dared me not to fall in love with you, do you remember that day?”
I nod, swallowing the emotion stuck in my throat. “Of course I do.”
“Now, I’m daring you to give me a chance, Gigi, because I have fallen. Fallen hard. You’re in my head. I only have eyes for you. And I want to be the man who makes you smile that secret smile. That makes you use that tone in your voice that is only for me. Makes you weak and strong at the same time. Keeps you safe. I love you, Gigi, and even if you do feel the same way about me, I don’t want you to say it back. Not until I can give you what you deserve. I need two weeks.”
I love you, too.
Knots.
Knots that feel like a swarm of butterflies.
Knots.
Knots in my throat, my chest, my belly.
Wonder.
Shock.
Awe.
With a happiness that coats me and wraps me in warmth, I push aside my doubts, blink my tears away, and say, “I’ll give you whatever you need, Max.”
This could be us.
No, this is us.
“Good. I have to go to my father to settle some issues, and if I can do that, I’ll be free to be yours.”
Mine.
The word feels foreign.
This man could be mine.
It’s the could that makes my heart stop beating. The thought of the alternative. “And if you can’t?”
Heartbreak lines his own face. “Then I’ll find another way.”
That’s just it, isn’t it? Royals marry royals. What he’s asking his father for is unheard of. Then again, his brother is the Heir Apparent, not him, so maybe, just maybe. I push his hair from his eyes. “What if there isn’t another—”
His hardness grinds into my belly. “Shhh…no more talking. I need you right now, Gigi, and I can’t wait another minute.”
“Then take me,” I breathe.
Getting to his knees on the mattress, he removes his towel and stares down at me. “Take your top off.”
Using both my hands, I pull my cami and shirt off together. Braless, my breasts are his for the taking. And he takes. His breath is hot on my skin and his tongue so wet and warm as he swoops down to lick and suck each nipple, biting as he does, causing both pleasure and pain to course through me.
Once he’s given my chest adequate attention, he leans back, up on his knees again, his cock bobbing like his Adam’s apple, excitement jumping in the pulse point at his neck. “Now your jeans. Take them off and let me see your sweet pussy.”
Without an ounce of protest, I lift my hips and shimmy out of them, removing my panties too and then kicking them off the bed. Now naked, I spread my legs and show him what he asked to see.
He smiles.
I smile back.
His breathing is as ragged as mine. All the pent-up desire we feel for each other is at the cusp of exploding.
Bending again, he goes back to sucking and licking my breasts, nipping lightly at my taut peaks until they are rigidly erect and straining outward, seeking more of his touch. He releases his hold on one breast and runs the tips of his fingers down my rib cage, and then lower to my belly and between my spread thighs.
He smiles against my skin as he drags his tongue down toward his fingers. And then his smile fades and so does mine, our breathing starting to change as the air between us turns smoldering.
My head rolls a little on the pillow as he licks around my bellybutton, then lower, and then he’s sucking at my clit and inserting his fingers inside me. Slick sounds mingle with my breaths as he plunges his fingers in and out. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful. I can’t wait to be inside you.”
Waves and waves of pleasure begin to roll through me. I stir beneath him, an orgasm building. Building. Climbing. Higher and higher. Growing. Soon my entire body is going taut, tension coiling low in my belly. I cry out.
He looks up. “Come for me, Gigi.”
I close my eyes and cry out his name as a wave of pleasure so deep sweeps over me. Tumultuous and overwhelming and unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
“That’s right. Say my name, Gigi. Say it again. I want to hear it.”
“Max,” I breathe. “Max. Max. Max.”
And right then I get him. Know why he didn’t tell me who he was. Why he didn’t travel with security when he was with me. He wants to be just Max. I know he told me that, but I don’t think I really understood until right now.
Slowly, he withdraws his tongue and up on his forearms, he looks up at me, watching me as I’m overtaken by the intensity of the orgasm he gave me.
Max.
Not Prince Max.
Just Max.
After wiping his mouth with his arm, he sits back on his knees and brings me with him.
Now we’re in the center of the bed. He’s naked. One hand moves to my face and the other arm curls around me, anchoring me tightly against him.
I gaze up at him, memorizing the raw need on his face as he takes me in, my breasts heaving, my pussy so swollen I can’t wait to have him. “Fuck me,” I moan.
He smiles, coos at me, and when he reaches toward the nightstand, he says, “Fuck.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t have my wal
let. It’s downstairs on the counter.”
Catching my lower lip with my top teeth, I glance down and see his throbbing erection. I lick my lips, anxious, when I see his swollen head and the glistening drop of semen at the tip of his cock. The cock I want inside me so badly, inside me right now. “I don’t care. We don’t need one. I’m clean and on the pill.”
His eyes are so blue, not even the sky on the brightest summer day can compete. “I’m clean. I’ve been tested.”
“Then what are you waiting for.”
Leaning forward, easing me down, his chest is hard and tanned, and his muscles ripple as he takes me to the bed and hovers over me.
A sound of need leaves me as he wedges himself between my thighs. “I want you, Max. You.”
He thrusts inside me, bare, raw. “Say it again.”
They aren’t the words he wants to hear, but I can’t give him those, even though it is how I feel.
Love.
I do love him.
But he doesn’t want me to tell him that.
So instead, I show him by reaching up and grabbing onto his arms, clawing at his shoulders, running my fingernails down his back. “I want you,” I moan breathlessly, rocking my hips to meet each incredible thrust.
Max watches me as he plows inside. In and out. Up and down. Ecstasy sweeps through me. I move my hips to get more of him inside me, faster, harder.
When he flexes his hips, pulsing his cock inside of me deeper, I lock my ankles together at the small of his back, melding him to me.
Tight.
Full.
Complete.
Yes, he completes me.
I clench my fingers in his hair, wanting more, afraid of wanting more, wanting what I know deep inside me I can’t have.
Making a noise that rumbles in his chest, I can actually feel his pleasure seeping into my skin. In my ear, he whispers, “Does this mean you’ll stay with me?”
“Yes,” I cry out, knowing this will only make the inevitable so much harder. Knowing the day will come when I will have to say goodbye.
A sound rips from both of us when he withdraws. At the cusp of falling over the edge, he thrusts all the way in, with our stomachs slapping, our bodies arching, the sheets rustling, we lose ourselves in each other.
This is us.
Fucking.
