The Duke of New York_A Contemporary Bad Boy Royal Romance

by Lisa Lace

  “Actually, I did have some other opportunities I wanted to discuss with you. I’ve seen your background—your resume. I know you don’t have a lot in terms of experience, but I have no doubt you’ll have ample time to work on that.”

  He continues to talk while I go into the kitchen to get some plates and silverware. I would just eat out of the containers, but I figure there are some boundaries I should keep.

  “So, what I want to know is, what are your long-term goals? Short-term, I assume you want to move toward a point where you will have more options available to you, even if that means doing things that aren’t related to your area of expertise.”

  “Well, I assume that with the natural progression of things, I’ll end up there in a few years. I don’t plan on staying a temp forever. I have some debt that I would like to take care of before I move into a lower-paying position in my field.”

  “I’d say you’re more than a temp now,” Maxwell says, stabbing a pair of chopsticks in my direction. “You can move up slowly on that path if you choose. But I think you should know that ‘a few years’ isn’t as accurate as you may think. It might be at least a decade before you can move into your field of study, and by then, you’ll have so much experience outside of your field that it will seem more foreign to you.”

  I hate that he has a point. Best case scenario, I think I can manage to save enough to barely scrape by, but it won’t leave any room for error. “What do you have to offer, then?” I ask. It doesn’t hurt to know my options.

  He sets down his plate and draws closer. “If I told you that you could have your debt paid off in a year, would you consider my offer?”

  A year? I’m excited by that prospect, but I’m sure there’s more to it. “Doing what?”

  He leans back and eyes me carefully. “More of the same.”

  “So, what’s the catch?” I ask.

  He begins to pace the length of the room. “When we were younger, Sam and I moved around a lot. We were what they used to call ‘military brats.’ Anyway, it was difficult because there was no stability. We had our parents but, well, they had their issues too. I left home early, and that’s when I first tasted real permanence.

  “I like roots, and I rushed into a marriage thinking she liked roots too. Clearly, that didn’t end well. Anyway, I want to offer Bella that safety and stability. Yes, we have a wonderful home, and we’re not moving anywhere. But with one nanny after another, she’s seen nothing but instability.”

  He breaks off, and I don’t know if I should interrupt and ask what he was about to say, or remain quiet until he gathers his thoughts. He is staring out of the window now, and I wonder if he’s done with his story. I have so many questions, but without knowing what his offer or motivations are, I’m afraid of asking.

  “I have a lot of business trips coming up, and it will keep me away from home for some time. I will need to take Bella with me, and I’d like it if you could come, too. You’ll be doing what you do now, with Sam providing you work that you can do, but you would be watching Bella full-time.”

  The opportunity sounds exciting, and watching over Bella doesn’t seem like a chore to me. I mull over his words, and he begins to clear the table. I follow him, deep in thought. It would give me a chance to travel and work at the same time—and pay off my debt quickly. It sounds too good to be true.

  Maxwell begins to list a few of the countries we’ll be going to if I accept the offer. “Some of those are major fashion and textile hubs, and I have a lot of contacts that will meet with you as a courtesy to me if you’re interested.”

  I want to pay attention to what he’s saying but I can’t help watching the suds clinging to his hands as he washes the plates. It reminds me too much of the tub fantasy earlier, and I feel myself get wet thinking about it. I never realized before how small my kitchen actually is, and I want nothing more than to step out of it and take deep gulps of air.

  “Yeah, that would be nice,” I mumble. I am standing behind him now. His butt looks so firm that I want to reach out and squeeze it to make sure. Moving to his left side, I deposit one cup into the sink. I am careful not to touch him because he will know immediately that I’m not wearing a bra.

  He turns off the sink at that moment and wipes his hand on a towel before turning and bumping into me. “Oh!” he exclaims. He’s staring at my chest, and my legs are frozen. We both look down, and I see a smear of sweet and sour sauce on my shirt. Oh. He isn’t staring at my chest. Another disappointment.

  “Sorry, that towel must have had sauce on it. Let me wipe it for you.” Before I can protest, he wets a clean corner of the towel and proceeds to dab at the stain. We’ve switched places somehow, and my back is digging into the sink. I’m trying hard to move away from him, because he’s wetting my shirt, and soon, will see the whole outline of my breast.

  It’s too late for modesty now. The wetness spreads, and cool air hits my breasts, causing them both to stand at attention again. My breathing is rapid.

  I know he knows how much I want him. I look up to see his jaw clenched. The towel in his hand is paused in mid-air, as if unsure of what its next move is. Wet the other breast too, maybe.

  For a moment, neither of us moves. I almost feel like we’re back in the bar where I first saw him. But this is much more intimate. I can feel an intense heat radiating from his body. I wonder if the wetness in my shorts is betraying me as well.

  He bends ever so slightly over me, and it’s all the invitation I need. I raise up to my toes the rest of the way, and he crushes his lips down on mine. I wind my arms around his neck and feel one of his hands cup the back of my neck. The other is pulling my lower body flush against his. I feel his hardness, and I moan as all my nerve endings feel like they’re being plucked at once. I don’t know how much time has passed before both of us come up for air.

  I see him trying to regain control of the situation, and I won’t have it. I try to pull him back down for another round, but he resists. “Wait,” he rasps. “I can’t go much further than this. I can’t take advantage of you.”

  “I don’t want you to stop,” I tell him.

  “You’re a virgin,” he says flatly. He’s looking me in the eye, daring me to respond. So he did get that message. I don’t know what he means by pointing it out. Does that mean he doesn’t want someone inexperienced?

  “I know,” I say. “But I’m okay with it. I want this.”

  I see him fighting with himself, but I let him make the decision. I’m rewarded as he is scooping me up and heading to my bedroom. He drops me gently on the bed and starts removing his clothes. This is actually happening. Trying to keep up, I start removing my clothes as well. We’re both down to our underwear now, my breasts delighting in their newfound freedom, enjoying the attention Maxwell is lavishing on them. He laps at one and nips the sides gently before moving to the other with an exaggerated slowness.

  I’m impatient and tug at his form-fitted boxers.

  “Wait.” He stills my hand. “You’re not going to be ready for that yet. Let me prepare you first.”

  “Prepare me? Isn’t that what you’re doing now?”

  He doesn’t answer. I don’t know what it means, but I try to concentrate on the incredible feeling of his tongue swirling around one breast and then the other, continuing to nip and tease as he goes. I close my eyes and run my fingers through his hair, tousling the straight combed locks. I feel him moving away from me, and I look down in time to see his descent on my exposed privates. He tore away the underwear without me knowing, and I don’t know or care where they landed.

  One of his hands snakes back up to tease my breasts while his tongue licks and nips at my core. His tongue is velvety against my wetness, and I feel a little embarrassed because I’m so wet down there. I squirm and moan when he continues his assault with more passion. Suddenly, I feel a fullness that wasn’t there before, and my eyes pop open to see the fingers of his other hand pushing into me. It’s unbearable now, and my hips begin to thrus
t into his fingers impatiently. When he bites lightly on the sensitive nub, I lose it. Waves of pleasure blind me, and I can’t see or think straight.

  “Please, please, Maxwell,” I whimper. I don’t even know what I’m begging for at this point.

  “Please what?” he prods.

  “I need you,” I whisper. I feel so empty without him inside me, and my body is craving him. Even though I’ve never been with someone that way before, I know what I’m longing for. “Please,” I say again.

  He’s already shucking the last scrap of cloth that’s between us and positioning himself at my entrance, but he’s not moving fast enough for me.

  “Maxwell.” I squeeze his biceps and raise my hips up to feel his cock pressing against me. The tip of it teases me where he’d bit me moments ago, and I moan louder. The only evidence that Maxwell is as affected as me is how hard he is. I want to make him lose his control, the way he’s made me lose mine, but I can’t right now. I can’t think past my own needs.

  He teases me more by rubbing the head up and down against my slit until my head is tossing from side to side.

  “Max…” I can’t form sentences anymore.

  “You want this?” he asks as if I hadn’t already begged him for it.

  “Yes, please. I need you.” I have no shame anymore. I’ll do anything to have him inside me now. I reach down and hold his throbbing manhood. It’s massive in my hands, I wonder how something so large will fit inside me. Even with his two fingers stretching me earlier, I felt so full. But my body is aching, and I can’t deny myself anymore.

  “Wait, we have to go slow,” he cautions me, but I don’t want to hear it.

  “No, just do it. I’m begging you.” I position him and thrust up slightly.

  I see him squeeze his eyes shut. His hands are on my thighs. He pushes them further apart and nestles himself between them. Somehow, he’s made a good fit even better now.

  “It won’t hurt for long,” he says just before he thrusts into me. I feel a sharp pain, and he holds himself still. I don’t want to look down, but I do anyway. I feel so stretched but he hasn’t pushed even half of himself inside.

  “Are you okay?” He brushes some hair off my forehead, and I nod. I’m afraid that if I try to talk, I’m going to cry about the pain, so I hold it all in. He moves back and forth gently. I want to tell him to stop because the pain is too great, but within moments, the friction starts to feel good. Soon, I find myself drawing my legs up to allow him more access. He takes it, burying the rest of his length inside me. I feel so full but I can’t get close enough. My legs wrap around him, and my hips raise up to meet him thrust for thrust.

  It doesn’t take long before I experience the same explosion as earlier, but this time, I feel his body get rigid, just before he has his own release.

  It’s a long time later after he rolls off me that I listen to his quiet snores. Before he fell asleep, he helped me get cleaned up, and this small gesture touched me in a way that his words could never have done. I slipped on my T-shirt and my underwear that were discarded on the floor. When I looked up, he was already in his boxers.

  “Stay,” I said suddenly. I didn’t want him to go after what we shared. I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t think it was going to make me feel like my soul was intertwined with his. He must have seen the raw emotions playing out on my face because he didn’t argue.

  Maxwell

  After another grueling Monday morning, I get off the phone with a longtime client and buzz Norma. “Yes, Mr. Brideau,” she says brightly.

  “Can you have Laura come to my office, please?” I haven’t seen or spoken to her since the night we were together. We fell asleep and woke up for an encore performance. I didn’t want Bella to wake up without me there, so I told Laura I had to leave in the wee hours of the morning. Saturday, I had to tend to some client meetings and got busy. When I called her on Sunday, she didn’t answer.

  I came into the office early today, but it seems that no matter where I go, I seem to have just missed her. We have a lot to discuss regarding the proposal, and I hope she isn’t avoiding me because she regrets sleeping with me.

  “Oh, did you forget Walter is coming to see you?” I did forget about the lawyer.

  “Okay, then tell her to come by in ten minutes. It’s urgent. In fact, tell her now so she can free herself up by then.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Brideau.” A few minutes later, she buzzes me again to let me know Walter has arrived.

  Walter has a slow, easy pace. I think of him like a snapping turtle. He moves in a leisurely way most of the time, but he knows when to strike and how much force to assign when he does it.

  “Did you get all the paperwork drawn up?”

  “Of course.” Walter settles himself into a seat across from me and withdraws the papers from his briefcase. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing here?”

  “Of course,” I say. “Let me look at everything and see if anything is missing.”

  “What’s missing is your brain, son.” Walter snorts. “I know it’s not my place, but back in my day, things were simpler. You kids know how to complicate things.”

  I give him a half grin. “I guess that’s a compliment because you think I’m young.”

  “You’re young and foolish if this is your big plan. Smart guy when it comes to business, not so smart when it comes to women.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” I argue. My eyes scan the paper. Everything looks to be in order. I just need Laura’s approval.

  “Remember when I warned you last time? Remember what happened then?” Walter gestures to my framed photo of Bella on my desk. “Her mom? Ring any bells?”

  I sigh and put the papers down. “Yes, Walter. I get it. But this is different. That’s why I asked you to word everything carefully and leave no room for confusion. If she doesn’t agree, she doesn’t agree; case closed. Otherwise, I have a proposition that will be mutually beneficial to us. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

  “I can name a few for you,” Walter says with a determined look on his face.

  “Spare me,” I say, holding up my hand.

  Norma buzzes in again. “Laura is here to see you.”

  “Send her in, please.” I watch her enter, and Walter cranes his neck to see her. I watch her just as closely. I know immediately she is uncomfortable with us staring, so I ask her to make herself comfortable.

  “Please, have a seat.” I point to the chair next to Walter. I want nothing more than to cross the room, wrap her up in my arms, and drag her back to bed, where I can ask her if she’s doing okay and why she never called me back.

  Walter looks uncomfortable and stands up. “You don’t need me, right?” He doesn’t wait for an answer; he scoops up his briefcase and makes his way to the door. I’ve never seen him move so fast in the whole time I’ve known him.

  “You can stay,” I tell him. I actually do want him to go so I can talk to Laura freely.

  “You can reach me at the office if you want to discuss anything further.” He edges out the door, with a final nod and wave to Laura before he leaves.

  Laura plucks at her skirt, and I gather the papers together and present them to her. “Here. I want you to look these over and tell me if you have any questions. Then I think we’ll have a lot to discuss once you’ve read it all.”

  Laura eyes me suspiciously, and I look away. There is a lot that I mentioned on Friday at her apartment, but there was even more that I didn’t bring up because I thought it was too soon. Now that we’ve slept together, I don’t see it as a big hindrance.

  “Okay. Do you need these back today?” she asks.

  “Oh, these aren’t for work, not really. Just read them.”

  She reads them quietly, and I see her brow furrow. I excuse myself for a few minutes and come back to see her on the last page of the document. She looks up at me and gets up to close the door to the office.

  “Okay, I read it. But I don’t understand this part.
What does this mean? Terminate what? Am I being fired?”

  “This is what we discussed the other night,” I remind her. “Did you read the whole thing?”

  “Yes.” She thumbs through it again, frowning. “I don’t know what you mean about all this. Where did you get some of this information?”

  I hired a private investigator as a precaution given the way Bella’s mother turned out to be, but I don’t think it’s time to bring that up. “I did a thorough background check on you, but I’d do that for anyone who’s with Bella as much as you are.” Some of the confusion from her face clears, but her frown remains intact.

  “I might need a little more explanation than what you’re telling me,” she confesses.

  “Okay, sure. Let’s sit down, and I’ll explain it more thoroughly to you. The basic plan is that we get married.”

  Her jaw drops. Okay, she must have skimmed that part, or it didn’t register with her. “Marry?” she squeaks.

  “Please, sit back down, and let’s talk. I can explain a lot better than this document can, and you can ask me whatever you want. Put in your own stipulations, if you want.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Laura asks.

  There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, I tell her. Bella needs a stable home life like I was telling her on Friday. Since she already gets along with Laura so well, it would be an easy transition for her.

  “Okay, but why marriage?” Laura presses me. “I mean, we could do all of this and not get married.”

  “Well, it’s just easier for me to explain to Bella. We had a conversation a couple weeks ago about why Sam and his ex-girlfriend weren’t married. She’s small, and these things make little sense to her. I know I can’t provide her the world, but I’ll try to give her something that she so badly lacks.”

  Laura stays quiet, and I wonder if she’s ever going to respond to my words. I feel like I have pushed her away with all my talk about marriage. Maybe Walter was right, and I don’t understand women—to a dangerous extent.