by S. L. Scott
“I’m not sure.”
A gentle nod of her head makes me feel bad when our time has been so good. Wanting her approval, her friendship back intact again, I say, “Am I supposed to give up something I was born to do?”
“It’s a difficult situation. I worry about Hutton, but now that we’re friends, I’m worried about you too. I don’t know the answers or what you’re going to do, but all I ask is whatever you choose, be gentle.”
“To Hutton?”
“And to yourself.” Standing up, she says, “That cream is calling my name. Come on. Let’s go eat it.” She holds out a hand, and I take it.
She’s given me a new way to think about things, and although I knew the impact of my initial decision, I never thought about the long-term effects of it. She may push me away, call me a weirdo, or feel the same. I don’t know, but when I stand, I hug her. And she hugs me. “I’m always here to lend an ear if you need to talk, Ally. The guys are great, but sometimes we need a female friend’s company.” How did she know I needed to hear those words? Feel this support?
Camaraderie.
Friendship.
Family.
“Thank you.”
Just after two in the morning, Hutton and I walk back into his apartment. Walk might be an overstatement regarding him, but we make it back. He heads to the kitchen and pours a glass of water. I set the bowl that held the cream in the sink and fill it with water to soak, feeling very domestic and loving every second. This feels like us—our place, our bowl. What a regular night together would be like. I turn around, leaning on the sink, and say, “I like the penthouse, but I love your apartment.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s cozy.” When I look at the island between us, there are two glasses. Even drunk, he thinks of my needs.
He chuckles. “It’s forty-one-hundred square feet. It’s bigger than my parents’ house.”
“I know it sounds crazy, but the palace is so big that I used to get lost. Here, with you, I feel like I’ve found myself.”
“Come over here.”
I push off and walk around the island. There’s always been an electric current that draws us together, but this time, it’s our heartstrings. I walk right into his arms and am embraced in his love. Closing my eyes, I listen to his heart, memorizing the sound, the steady beat, and the rhythm that plays for me. “I want to tell you to stay.” The top of my head is kissed. “But you have a country to rule. All I ask is that while you’re here, you’re mine.”
“That’s not all you can ask of me.”
“We both know that once you leave, this is all there will ever be.”
My arms tighten around him as his do me. “I’m not leaving.”
“Yet. And with that yet, all I ask is that I get a little warning this time.” He exhales and releases me. Finishing off his water, he says, “I like the way you arranged the flowers.”
I look at the table and the three mugs full of pretty roses. “Why did you buy pink roses?”
“I bought them for you, but you were asleep. I’m sorry I didn’t give them to you.”
Running my hand over his chest, I look into his tired eyes. “Don’t feel bad. When I woke up and found them, I thought they were so pretty. I couldn’t find a vase, so I got creative.”
“I like them like that. It’s very girly, like you.”
I know what he means. In an apartment that feels modern with clean lines and grays and navy blues, the soft pink adds such a light and pretty feel. “Did you buy pink for a reason?”
“Love. Gratitude. Appreciation.” A slight embarrassment comes over him. “I cheated and looked up the meaning. I feel all those things for you, so pink seemed to be a fitting color.”
My heart tightens. I don’t want to lose this man. Holding him tight again, I close my eyes. “I feel the same for you.”
He rubs my back, and after a few seconds, he says, “Are you ready to go to bed?”
“I am.” We hold hands, and I take a glass of water in the other. We’re both tired, but I’ve had a few glasses of wine, so I need the water.
“You talked with Singer for a long time. How’d that go?”
“I adore her.” We head for the bedroom. “I felt so comfortable around her. It was as if we’d known each other forever.”
“She has a way about her that makes everyone feel at home, but I could tell she really likes you.”
“She’s very fond of you, protective.” He nods as we part in the bedroom. I slip off my shoes. “I told her I didn’t need to shop because she sent me a whole wardrobe.”
“Like my brother, Singer has gone through a lot in the past year. It’s good to see her coming out of her shell with others again.”
“Ethan’s very enamored by her.”
Just as I slip off my jeans, Hutton’s warm hands heat my waist. “I’m very enamored by you.” Leaning down, he kisses me—not to lead to more, just sweet and shared affection. “Want the bathroom first?”
It’s a simple gesture, but it means the world to me. “How about we brush our teeth together?”
“I’ll get them ready.”
“I’m not using the bathroom in front of you, though.” I laugh because I’ve never done it before, and I’m not starting now.
“Good. You don’t need to see behind the curtain. We’ll just keep things clean.”
“And here I thought you preferred me dirty.”
“Ahhh,” he groans as if I’ve hit a weak spot. Sucking a breath between his teeth, he then releases it. “I might be talked into getting dirty if you’re up for it.”
“It’s not me I worry about being up.” I glance at his pants.
“Oh, cheap shot. What’d my dick do to you for such a mean comment?” I love seeing this playful side of him.
“It’s what he’s not doing that warranted the comment.” I fling my bra at him and walk by, teasing him with every step I take.
“Why’d you let me drink so much?” he asks, trailing me into the bathroom.
“You were having too good of a time to stop you.”
Stepping behind me, he presses his body to mine, and his hands slide up my middle until he cups my breasts. The pulse in my core begins to throb, but I know we need to sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll face our problems and start making decisions. Tonight, we need to turn off our minds.
He kisses my neck. “Bed?”
“Sleep?”
“Yes to both.”
* * *
The shower is started, rousing me from a deep sleep. The blinds are still pulled, but the daylight is trying to sneak in. I turn and glance at the clock. It’s 8:14 as Hutton comes in.
Unaware I’m awake, a sober and sexy Hutton walks out of the bathroom wearing gym shorts and sneakers. With his back to me, he slips off his shoes and socks. I sit up to take in the full view. His muscles are tight and on display. His body glistens from sweat, his hair wet from a workout.
The shorts and briefs come down and his buttocks contract and tense with the motion, highlighting the indents on the side of his cheeks. I admire the body, but I admire the man more. He takes care of himself physically, but how is he holding up mentally? I’m sure he’s just as confused as I am.
He tosses the clothes in the laundry basket and returns to the bathroom. We’ve shared a thousand emotions and our fears, worries, and laughs. With so much light shining back into my life, I decide now’s the time to make my move.
29
Hutton
Working out is always a surefire way for me to sweat out the toxins after a hard night of drinking. I wasn’t drunk, but I was past the stage of being useful. I was having fun, and seeing Ally and Singer bond made the night even better.
When all she wants is to be the queen, is it possible for her to see herself in this life, in my life, permanently?
And what do I want?
I want Ally.
What does that mean when her father will never let her marry me? Will she marry the duke?
M
akeup smeared. Crooked tiara. Messed-up hair.
Fuck.
She’ll be with him over my dead body.
I won’t lose her. Not again. Not ever.
Having her here with me has made my apartment feel like a home for the first time since I moved to New York.
I want her laughter echoing in the kitchen and to see her standing at the window. I want to leave the office at a decent time because I have someone to come home to. I want her middle-of-the-night kisses and to hear that soft snore she doesn’t even realize she does. I’ll eat Bavarian cream every night if that’s all she ever learns to make. I can order the rest. I can learn to cook more than a few bachelor meals. She can rule my kingdom, make any decisions she wants, and I’ll be her loyal subject. Ally’s the queen of my heart.
But can I be the king she needs?
Will I have a choice?
Guess that remains to be seen. I hope she got a good night’s sleep because we have a lot to discuss today. I step under the hot water, letting it roll over my sore shoulders. It wasn’t arms day, but I did a full body workout anyway, needing to burn energy and take my mind off things. It only worked temporarily, so I jogged four miles on the treadmill at a higher than usual incline. Even after all that work, the freed mind space was flooded with the same concerns I’ve had for days the moment I walked in and saw her in my bed again.
While I soap up, the door to the bathroom opens, and I catch sight of my beauty before she sees me. We both can see everything through the glass shower surround. Our eyes meet through the steam as she walks toward me. Opening the door, she says, “Good morning.”
“Good morning. Sorry I woke you.”
“It’s okay. I got a nice view.” She asks, “Can I join you?”
“Please do.” I have showerheads all around, so I spin her to keep her warm under the few I’ve turned on while I activate the others. She rubs soap all over her body, stealing my job.
Silently, we both wash our hair, the act of watching each other intimate. It’s impossible to not react as her hands slip between her legs, causing her lids to waver. When she looks back up at me, she releases a long breath and then licks her lips. As the other rain showerhead covers me in water, I watch as she rinses her hair, tilting her head back. Her eyes close, and her moan goes straight to my dick, waking my whole body up.
She doesn’t fail to notice. Coming closer, Ally slides her hand along my length and then grips me firmly and comes back up. “Kiss me, Hutton.”
It’s not a desperate plea but comes from a place of love. I cup her face as she continues to work me and kiss her, evoking a deep sigh of contentment. She brings the same out in me.
Every stroke fans the fire inside until I’m a raging blaze of desire. “Turn around.” I’m not asking, my own need taking over.
Her hand stops, and she puts space between us. “No.” A challenge is thrown down with a look of lust in her eyes. The water rains over our shoulders, and this time, I ask, “What do you want, Princess?”
I reach out and run two fingers between her legs, feeling her need. She says, “I want to please you.”
“You do.”
“I want to serve you.” Her breath is rough around the edges when she sucks in, and I caress her cheek to help steady it. I’m about to ask what she means by serving me when she kneels in front of me.
Weaving my hands into her hair, I hold her by the back of her head. As if waiting for me, I give her the permission she’s seeking. “Don’t stop until you’ve swallowed every last drop. Do you understand me?”
She nods. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, my king.”
And here I am, finally playing the role she wants. I nod, and she takes me, her hot mouth hardening me more than I thought possible. I ache for relief as she sucks me deep and glides back with a tease of her teeth. Guiding her head, I set the pace, and she bends to my needs.
There’s no complaint as she takes every thrust as though she can’t get enough. When I grip her hair, I pull enough for her to look up. Her usually clear blue eyes are gray with brewing rainstorms. Her hands slide around, holding me, and I give up control to let her have her way. “Take what you need, baby.”
Long hair slick down her back, shoulders straight, weighted teardrop tits bare with begging nipples. Her body squirms as she sends me to the edge. I press my hand flat against the glass behind me but struggle to stop her. I should but—“Fuck. Get up.”
The command startles her, but she’s on her feet, her breath heavy, lips swollen. Fuck me. I touch her mouth, dragging my thumb harsher than I intend. “These lips will never touch another man. Do you understand me?” I levy my thumb right in the middle of her bottom lip. “They will only kiss my mouth. They will only suck my dick. They will only ever say my name in ecstasy. Do you understand, Princess Arabelle?” Her name is a growling curse on my sharp tongue. “Do you?”
“Yes . . . my king,” she says without prompting.
“Turn around and brace yourself.” She starts to turn, but I say, “Wait.” When she looks at me, I hold her face and kiss her, treating her like the woman I love before I treat her how she really craves.
When I pull back, I keep my eyes steady on her as she turns. She spreads her hands, and without asking, her legs go wide. I put gentle pressure on her head until she bends forward. Moving her hair to the side, I kiss down her spine until I reach the top of her round ass. Her ribs expand with her deep breaths, and her head lowers. Her body becomes mine once again as she gives in. I lick from one lower back dimple to the next and then run my thumb down the center of her crack.
A whimper escapes her when I pull my hand back. I could do a million things to her, and she’d let me because she trusts me. One of the many reasons I will never hurt her. One of the many reasons I know I’m the luckiest bastard.
Running my dick through her sweet little pussy lips, I stop when the tip dips into her. I want to fuck, be the selfish bastard I thought I was going to be. But her need is mine, and if I rush, I’ll leave her empty.
I hold her around the waist and push in slowly. Reaching around her hips, I find her clit and mimic the pace of my thrust. Once I’m seated deep inside her, I can’t keep steady. I move on instinct, being the animal she brings out in me.
I know she’s close because her clit swells enough to show off for me. I can read her body well. I fuck my princess until she falls apart in my arms, sending me into my own release.
The water is still warm, but we’ve been in here a long time. I still take a minute to rest against the glass while staring at her. Her arms must be tired, but she stays bent forward. I watch carefully for another few seconds before I help her. Slowly taking one arm down and then the other, I turn her and bring her into my arms.
A sob rushes through her, and though she’s quiet, too quiet, her body rattles. I sit on the bench and hold my sweet girl in my arms, letting her cry. She’s curled on my lap, her falling tears blending with the water from above. “Hey, look at me.”
She struggles to lift her gaze to mine, but when our eyes meet, I say, “I love you.”
That brings another sob bursting from her chest. Her hands roam my chest and neck, and she lifts up to kiss my neck. “I love you, and my heart is full, but my body feels depleted. Empty without you.” Her fingers tap across my jaw as if I’m the breakable one between us.
“Souls,” I say so quietly as I feel the meaning for the first time. All the questions lingering in the back of my mind while I gave her time to think are answered.
“What?”
“I feel the same because we’re soul mates.” I catch her hand and bring it up. “Do you know what that means?” She stares into my eyes with such innocence. “It means we fight for this. We fight to be together.” Kissing her wrist, I keep my eyes locked on hers. “You can be the queen, and we will be together. I’ll give everything here up for you. I’ll give up everything . . . except you.”
Her staggered sob is caught in her th
roat, then she gets to her feet. “What are you saying?”
“We can go back.”
Determination tightens her focus. “With you by my side, I’ll reclaim what’s mine.”
“How? Your parents—”
“Once I’m the queen, it’s all up to me. I don’t have to marry before I take the throne.”
“So how can I help you?”
We both stop when we hear the doorbell. “What was that?” she asks, looking through the glass enclosure.
“The doorbell.” She looks shocked. I am too, but possibly for a different reason. “That’s weird.”
“It sounds just like in the movies.”
I shut off the water and grab a towel from the shelf for her and then one for me. “You haven’t heard a doorbell before?”
“No. The palace doesn’t have one, and no one ever came to our place in Texas since no one knew we were there.”
Stepping out, I dry off just enough to walk out and pull on work-out shorts. “Not even to solicit?”
“No. They couldn’t get past security downstairs.”
The sound of a doorbell has never elicited so many thoughts before, but as she said, someone would have to get through my security to get to my apartment. Before I exit the bedroom, she comes out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, and says, “Be careful.”
“Stay here.” I wish I had time to tell her about the panic room, but the doorbell rings again. Hurrying into the living room, I activate the security system monitor and go to the camera covering my front door. “Oh shit.”
30
Ally
Hutton’s T-shirt swallows me whole, but I love the feel of it, so I pull it on over my yoga pants when I hear a ruckus in the living room. I stand still, trying to decipher if I should run and hide, call for help, or . . . is that Jakob’s voice?
Bennett’s laughter reaches the bedroom, and although my heart is racing, I begin breathing again. “Oh my God!” I dash out of the bedroom to find my brother, my sister, Margie, and Bennett in the living room. I’m not sure who to hug first, but my brother opens his arms to me, so I go there. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
