Royally Yours: A Bad Boy Baby Romance

by Amy Brent

  She looked a little different than I remembered, but time tended to do that. Her red hair was cut in a sleek short style that was sexy as hell. Her green eyes had captivated me from the moment I saw her, and they still did. They seemed even more vivid with her pale, white skin. The woman had captivated my attention then and she had it again now.

  I watched as she furiously scribbled in the notebook. Her shoulders were hunched over and she was completely lost in her own world. I had no idea what she was writing, but I loved watching her do it. Hell, I would love watching her watch paint dry. The woman beguiled me. She had from the very moment I laid eyes on her.

  How long ago had it been? Ten, twelve years at least, I surmised. I remembered I had been home on my first leave after I graduated basic training.

  “What are you doing?” I asked for the second time, my first attempt completely ignored. I wasn’t going to be ignored again.

  “Writing,” she mumbled, not bothering to look away from the paper.

  I watched her a bit longer before realizing that was all I was going to get out of her. I grabbed the coffee pot and carried it back to the kitchen, pouring two cups.

  “Black okay?” I asked.

  She didn’t answer.

  “Black it is,” I said, setting the cup of steaming coffee on the small coffee table in front of her.

  She flipped the page of the notebook with such force she nearly tore it. I sat down on the other end of the couch, watching her fill the page with her scrawls. In the dim light, I couldn’t make out what the words were. I probably wouldn’t be able to read it in full light judging by what looked like scribbling scattered across the page. I wondered if it was some kind of shorthand.

  “Warm enough?” I asked, knowing I was disturbing her, and kind of enjoying it.

  She had disturbed my peaceful night by going and getting herself lost. I didn’t see why she should get to sit there and zone out.

  “Mh-hmm,” she replied, without stopping her writing or lifting her head.

  The woodstove was really cranking out the heat. The red fir wood was crackling, a sound I loved. For the second time in the past thirty minutes, I thought about how long this night would be. I was going to need a little something to take the edge off.

  Heading back into the kitchen, I opened the cupboard where I kept an assortment of alcohol. I reached for the bottle of whiskey and poured a healthy amount into my coffee. I took a sip to test the stoutness and found her staring at me.

  I raised an eyebrow, silently questioning her.

  She held up her cup. The gesture’s meaning was clear.

  I grinned and quickly obliged. I added about a shot’s worth, not nearly as much as mine. She could use a little heating from the inside out I reasoned.

  “Didn’t think you would be a fan of the mountain version of a hot toddy,” I quipped.

  “I’m a little chilly and I happen to like whiskey.”

  “Here,” I moved to the back of the couch and pulled the blanket off. “Wrap up in that. I’d hate for you to get sick on my watch.”

  “Thanks,” she said, wrapping the blanket over her legs before settling back and writing.

  I watched her and envied the passion I could see on her face. This was something she loved. I could see that. I had once known that kind of passion for life, for work. It had been a long time since I had felt that way about anything. The military had been all-encompassing. I lived it, breathed and loved it until one day, I woke up and didn’t anymore. Just like that, the thing I loved most in the world no longer appealed to me. That was the day I knew it was time to retire. It had been life-altering. Everything I had known was gone. It was definitely an adjustment.

  “You don’t look or act like a woman who was lost in the woods all day,” I blurted out.

  She stopped writing and finally looked at me. “How should I look?”

  I shrugged a shoulder, not really knowing the answer. “I don’t know, cold, scared, traumatized?”

  A little giggle escaped her lips and punched me right in the gut. The sound had been unexpected, but welcomed.

  “I’m not that kind of a girl I suppose. I’m a little cold, but it wasn’t that bad. I don’t see any point in going into hysterics. Doesn’t solve anything or help the situation. I’m choosing to trust I’m safe now and that’s that.”

  “I guess we could have waited until tomorrow to find you,” I teased.

  “I didn’t say I enjoyed it, and I definitely didn’t want to spend the night out there, but I knew someone would find me.”

  Slowly I nodded. “Must be nice to have that much faith.”

  She didn’t answer me, her focus back on the notebook. She flipped to a clean page and began furiously writing once again.

  Obviously, she didn’t want me bugging her. I should be thankful I didn’t have to entertain her, I supposed. I squatted down to pet Casper. The dog yawned and stretched, his paw catching on something. I reached down to see what was wrapped around his leg and nearly choked when I pulled off a wet pair of black satin panties.

  I looked behind me and realized she was not wearing any panties. I had a feeling she was also braless. The thought had my dick springing to attention. I quickly shoved the scrap of fabric back under the coat and left the room.

  My hand rubbed my dick, trying to make it relax. I didn’t want to be sporting wood. That would freak her out. I tugged on my heavy cock, groaning with pleasure, but not willing to rub one out with the threat of the woman in the other room walking in at a very inopportune moment. It would have to wait until I was truly alone.

  Once I had quieted the erection, I walked to the small closet in the room and pulled out an extra blanket and the only spare pillow I had and headed back to the living room.

  “Here.” My voice was strained. I blamed the battle of the erection. All I could think about was the panties on the floor and what that meant.

  I groaned as the erection won the battle and reared up in victory. I tossed the bedding on the couch next to her and went back to face the woodstove, taking deep breaths in and out. Counting to ten in my head as I tried to return everything to normal.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Fine,” I said, turning to face her again.

  She closed the notebook, stuck the pen in the spiral wiring and set the book beside her. She sipped the coffee. I waited for her to make a face indicating it was too strong. She didn’t. Instead, she took another long drink. I felt like a caged animal and found myself pacing the room, her eyes following me as I did. It was unnerving. I knew what I was thinking when I watched her, was she thinking the same? Was she remembering our one night together?

  “Oh, I can feel that all the way to my tippy toes,” she purred, her throat working as she drank the spiked coffee.

  I spun around again, facing away from her as my dick jumped. “That’s the goal,” I managed to croak out.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe the cold was too much for you?”

  I guffawed at the ridiculous suggestion.

  “The cold has nothing to do with it.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s going to be a long night. Two blankets should be enough for you. The stove keeps the place pretty warm. I’ll make sure to keep it going all night,” I told her, needing to fill the dead air.

  “Oh, are you going to bed?” she asked.

  I shrugged, “Soon enough.”

  “I don’t suppose I could make that soup you mentioned earlier?”

  “Oh, shit. Sorry, I forgot,” I mumbled.

  “No worries. I can make it. You don’t need to go out of your way for me. I know I’m intruding.”

  “I got it. I’ll warm it up on the stove,” I said, thankful for the distraction.

  I quickly pulled out a pot and dumped a couple cans of soup that promised to be hearty and beefy. I hoped so, because I realized I was famished and Calla looked like she could eat. I didn’t begrudge her that fact. It was actually a turn on.

&nb
sp; “Can I help?” she asked.

  “No. Nothing to do but wait,” I said removing the coffee pot and refilling my cup.

  When I gestured with the pot to ask if she wanted more, she held up a hand, declining the offer. I added a little more whiskey to my cup and waited for the soup to heat.

  “So, what is it you were writing?” I asked, trying to make small talk.

  She shrugged a shoulder. “Just getting some thoughts down. I’m a writer. When I see something that inspires me, I have to take advantage of it. No matter how many times I say I’ll write it when I have the time, I never do. The mood is lost, and writer’s block is fully in place.”

  I nodded, pretending to understand. I didn’t get exactly what she was saying, but I did understand that desire to get shit done when the mood struck.

  The soup heated quickly on the hot woodstove. Deciding it was warm enough, I dished up two bowls.

  “Want a sandwich to go with it?” I asked, realizing the soup was probably not enough to replace the calories she had spent being in the cold all day.

  “We’ll see how I feel after I eat this. I am really hungry, but that looks very filling.”

  I delivered the bowl to the kitchen table and sat down. She followed suit. It was a little strange to be sharing a meal with a woman who I had only known for about twelve hours. Eleven of those twelve hours had involved her naked and my dick seated deep inside her.

  “How do you usually pass the time?” she asked. “I don’t see a television.”

  “I’m not much of a TV kind of guy. I have a laptop I use on occasion, but service up here isn’t exactly great. I like not being connected. I was too connected for too long,” I explained, knowing she wouldn’t understand.

  Few people did. People who lived and thrived in the modern world couldn’t imagine a life without constant stimulation from technology. I had my fill and was over it.

  “Don’t you get lonely?”

  “No. I have Casper. I can go into town when I need to chat, but that isn’t all that often. I prefer the solitude,” I told her. She didn’t need to know why I was hiding up here.

  That seemed to appease her for now. I focused on my bowl of soup. I could feel her watching me. Whenever I looked up to meet her eyes, she quickly looked away. Was she thinking about that night? Or was she afraid of me? Of being alone with me so far away from civilization and help.

  I gave myself a mental shake. She didn’t know my past. She had no real reason to fear me I reminded myself.

  Chapter Six

  Calla

  Fate was a cruel bitch. I was stuck in a cabin, far up in the mountains with no one around, but that wasn’t the cruel part. The cruel part was that I was stuck with a man who had left me with some very vivid memories. The type that made me wet anytime I thought about that one night together. He didn’t seem to be pleased to be in my company, which was the really cruel part.

  Looking at him now, it was hard to see the clean-shaven, bright-eyed young man I had met in a bar so many years ago. Back then, he had been exactly what I needed and wanted. I had been young, too young to even be in that bar legally. The man sitting across from me today looked like someone I would see gracing the cover of an erotic romance novel. This man was eye candy, the kind of candy that would leave you addicted and wanting more.

  “This is kind of crazy, huh?” I asked, not really expecting him to answer.

  His mouth opened and then closed around the spoonful of soup. I imagined that mouth closing over my nipple or better yet, my clit. The thought made me shudder in my chair, slivers of electricity sliding over my body with the mini-fantasy.

  “Crazy is one word for it,” he muttered.

  “I bet you didn’t think you’d ever see me again after you left that morning?” I asked, infusing a little sauciness in my tone.

  He shrugged one of those massive shoulders. “I think that was the other way around.”

  I smiled, “We knew what it was when you bought me that first drink. We both wanted sex and nothing more.”

  “I didn’t know you weren’t old enough to be in the damn bar, though. I’m only glad you were legal age. I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

  “It wasn’t really a mistake, was it?” I asked softly.

  He looked up at me, his gaze piercing. “Maybe not, but a year earlier and I would have been hauled off to jail for sleeping with a minor. I’m glad you were legal.”

  “Barely,” I shot back with a wink, letting him know I was teasing. It had literally been days after my eighteenth birthday. I had just graduated from high school and was getting ready to head off to college. As a last hurrah, my friends and I secured fake IDs and headed for the bar with one goal in mind—to get laid.

  “You done?” he said in a gruff tone.

  I nodded, hoping I hadn’t brought up an unpleasant memory. The look on his face was worrying me, like he had just sucked on sour candy. I knew it hadn’t been bad, and remembered him shouting in intense pleasure. His yells drowned out my screams of ecstasy. Thinking about that night had hot liquid pooling between my legs.

  Quickly, I jumped up from my chair and headed for the couch. Thank God, his sweater was long. I did not want the evidence of my arousal to be on display. If I had been a man, I would have had a raging hard-on.

  It was stupid. Ridiculous and completely inappropriate. I had no business thinking about him like that, but my sex-deprived body had other ideas. It had been too long since I had really enjoyed a good orgasm. The kind that curled your toes and made your back arch to the point you feared your spine would snap.

  I took another long look at Jake and realized fate may actually be working in my favor. Being locked up with a man who looked like a Viking God was too good to pass up. I wanted him. I wanted him in the worst way. The idea of another one-night-stand with him made me very excited in every way. The possibilities of what that man could do to my body left me weak in the knees.

  “Warm?” his deep voice floated over me, the timbre of his voice felt like he was caressing my overheated skin.

  “Yes. Very,” I answered honestly, breathlessly.

  Would he be interested in a fun night? He was a man after all and if he was anything like the man I remembered, he would be up for anything.

  I had to play my cards right if I wanted him to want me. If he knew my secret, or about Blake, he wouldn’t come near me. We all had secrets. It wasn’t like we were going to get married. I could keep my secrets and get laid. Win-win.

  Watched him, I felt like a tigress watching her prey. He squatted down in front of the woodstove, gave his dog a little scratch behind the ears and then added another log to the fire. The smell of the wood smoke was far more romantic than I would have expected. Of course, it could have been the fact I was horny as hell and anything would turn me on in my current state.

  He stood and turned to look at me. Had he felt me staring?

  “You sure everything is okay?” he asked, with what looked to be genuine concern.

  “Everything is perfect. This place, your home, it’s so cozy.”

  He smirked, “I don’t know if cozy is the term I would use, but I like it.”

  “Your dog,” I motioned to the large animal still laying on my jacket. “What’s his name?”

  “Casper.”

  “Like the ghost?”

  He nodded. “When I found him, he was nearly dead. I almost called him Shadow, but Casper felt right.”

  “What kind of dog is he?” I asked, realizing the way to get this man to be more open to what I had planned was through his dog. His dog held a special place in his life. That much was obvious.

  “A mutt, but the vet thinks he’s part lab, part husky and maybe some other large dog breed.”

  I giggled, “Well, he is very cute.”

  He raised an eyebrow as if the word was an insult. “I need to use the bathroom. You can use the toilet, but we’ll have to manually flush without power.”

  I watched as he slid his boots on.
“Where are you going? It’s dark,” I asked, a little afraid he was going to leave me all alone.

  With frustration on his face, he gave me a look of disgust. “Taking a piss like I said.”

  He stomped across the floor and headed for the door.

  “Outside!” I shrieked, fearing the cold could ruin my plans. I needed that beautiful piece of flesh in good working condition, not shriveled from the cold.

  “Yes, outside,” he grunted.

  He slammed the door behind him. I looked at the dog who was steadily watching me. “Well, like I knew people peed outside when there was a perfectly good toilet in the house.”

  I pushed the blanket off and went for the bottle of whiskey, adding a healthy dose to my cup of coffee. I tested it with a small sip and shuddered as the whiskey hit my tongue and then slid down my throat, leaving a trail of fire.

  “Perfect,” I said, taking another drink.

  My cup of coffee was more whiskey than coffee now, which was fine by me. I needed a little liquid courage. I wanted Jake to fuck me and that was going to take a little effort. He hadn’t made a pass at me, which was a little insulting, but kind of a turn on. He didn’t want to take advantage of the situation, which I absolutely adored, but I wanted him to take full advantage.

  I looked at the couch and debated stripping and sprawling naked on the couch to give him an open invitation. Any other man probably would have jumped at the chance. Not Jake. I didn’t think that would work in this particular situation. No, I needed finesse.

  I was standing in front of the woodstove, enjoying the heat when Jake returned.

  “Do you go outside all the time?” I blurted out, my goal for finesse forgotten.

  “When there isn’t power, I usually do. Conserves water.”

  I felt like an idiot, but I didn’t get it. “Does the water freeze?”

  I saw him drag in a deep breath. “No. I mean it can, but I have no power, which means there is no power to run the well pump. The pump gives me water.”