Royal Tease

by Nana Malone

  “All right. Let’s do it, princess.”

  The endearment was probably foolish, but I couldn’t help it. From the moment I’d seen her, she’d looked the part, but that mouth, that attitude, that nerve. She was so much more than a lost princess.

  She wanted to dance, so we’d dance, using the sparring as a way to release the pent-up, clawing need that had been following me around for three weeks. We danced around each other. When the kicks started, I had to pay more attention and restrain her more often.

  “Fuck! Jessa. You’re going to get hurt.”

  “Roone, come on. You obviously know how to do this. Let’s get the kinks out.” She came at me again, this time with jabs, like she was trying to work out her frustration on me.

  I deflected easily. I slid my left arm against her punching arm. “Sweetheart, I’ll play with you anytime.” She tried a back kick, but that just landed her in my arms again. Holding her tight, I leaned in and whispered, “Because you're smaller, you never take your eye off the opponent. Back spin kicks only look cool in a movie.”

  She grumbled something that sounded an awful lot like “Asshole,” which earned her a swat on the bottom. Admittedly not my finest moment, because… instant hard on.

  The instructor blew his whistle and we both lay there on the mats, panting. She turned her head and blinked at me. “I guess you really are superman. Mild-mannered consultant by day, badass martial artist at night.”

  I swallowed and shook my head. “Nah, my mom just made me take self-defense classes a lot when I was a kid.”

  “That’s more than just a few classes. My dad was a pseudo survivalist nut, so I took lots of classes. You could be better than me.”

  Could? She didn’t know the half of it. Was she suspicious? Had I showed my hand?

  “Question is did you like it?”

  “Well, I took it for a while and I liked it. And now when I feel like I can’t let out what I’m feeling, you know, verbally, sometimes it helps to go to the gym and hit stuff and throw myself on the mat.”

  Her gaze searched mine. So far, we hadn’t delved too far into who we’d been, and I wanted to keep the lies to a minimum. But if she probed, I could do it.

  “It sounds lonely.”

  She shifted her gaze from mine and stared at the ceiling. “It was.”

  I pushed myself up to my feet and reached down and helped her up. “Come on. Let’s hit the showers and get some food.”

  She skipped along. “What does the app say? Where are we going to eat? I hope it’s something spicy.”

  I grinned down at her. “The app says that I’m cooking for you.”

  She stopped, a slight frown forming between her brows. “You cook?”

  “Yeah, I cook. How do you expect me to eat?”

  She gestured her hand to somewhere in the vicinity of my chest. “I mean, everything about you says, ‘I’m too pretty to cook.’ If you can cook, then why are you single? Or are you secretly married? Or are you using the app as a beard for your open relationship status?”

  I laughed. “You’re crazy. Well, like other people I know, I’ve been busy. Work. The only person I see is my annoying work mate. So not a lot of options.”

  “Seems fair. So, what are you going to make for me?” She bumped me with her shoulder, a flirtatious smile playing on her lips.

  The pang that sliced through me made my gut knot. That spark in her eye that had caught my attention when I met her had settled under my skin, making me buzz and hum. I wanted this to be real. I didn’t want to be playing at this.

  Too bad mate, the soldier never gets the princess.

  I cleared my throat. “It’s a surprise. Sorry.”

  “Come on, I’ll be your best friend.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Something tells me that you being my best friend will nearly get me killed one day.”

  “Possibly. But hey, it’s part of the adventure and fun.”

  “All right, I’ll keep that in mind. Come on, let’s get a shower and then we can go eat.” I just hoped to God that while I was keeping her distracted, Ariel was making some headway into who had broken into her apartment.

  Jessa…

  “Where did you learn to cook?”

  I watched him as he strained the pasta. “My Mom. She wanted me to be able to look after myself, since she wasn’t going to be around to do it all the time.” He plated our food then set it out on the candlelit island.

  It looked and smelled amazing.

  I cocked my head as I took my seat. “Why do you say that?”

  Roone lifted a brow. “Say what?” He poured us wine, but still didn’t meet my gaze.

  “I mean, I know she passed, but I guess I assumed it was sudden. Was she ill?”

  He nodded. “Sorry, yeah. Cancer. I was fifteen.”

  Shit. There I was with my big mouth. “I’m sorry. Fuck cancer.”

  His lips twitched. “It’s okay. And yes, fuck cancer.” He raised his glass after he sat and clinked his with mine. “Now eat. You expended a lot of energy.”

  I was about to argue that he didn’t get to tell me what to do, but then I took a bite. The rich tomato flavor burst on my tongue and I moaned. “Jesus, this is good.”

  “I know,” he said with a smirk. Then he added, “I guess we didn't do all the first and second date conversations like normal. Still a lot we don’t know.”

  I sighed. “Yeah, that’s right. This app just put us together and so far, it’s had you swinging me from trapeze bars and me kicking the shit out of you in a sparring match.”

  “Oh, just wait a minute now. You did not kick my ass. I took it easy on you. I figured you’re still sore from when you got your ass beat a few weeks ago.”

  I groaned. “Ugh! Why are you bringing up old shit?”

  “Because as good as you are, you should have been able to avoid that hit. Those two assholes were so busy screwing around that you got hurt.”

  “Yeah well, he hit like a girl.”

  “Yeah, but considering I’ve been hit by you, that’s not really a put down.”

  I grinned. “Yeah, I do hit pretty hard.”

  “So, are you going to tell me anything about yourself besides that you have an uncanny knowledge about martial arts and are a genius at public relations, or is that more of a date three kind of thing?” He stood to dish the second course.

  He looked so cute, shirt sleeves rolled up, strong hands dishing food, russet hair falling over his brow, I couldn’t help myself. That and I didn’t really want to talk. We were having such a nice time. Now was not the time to tell him that crazy ran in my family. I stood and walked over to him. “Well, it seems more like a third date kind of thing to me. I’d rather move some other third date things to this date, if you don’t mind. Or does the app not allow that?”

  Roone’s hands paused. “Princess…”

  “Well, you could choose to kiss me. Or you could choose to keep playing with your food.”

  He shifted to make room for me and I stepped into his space. Even standing on tiptoe, I couldn’t reach his lips. “Let the record show that you’re asking for a kiss.”

  I frowned. “The hell I am.” I still couldn’t let him win.

  “In that case, allow me to get more creative with where I touch you.”

  Roone…

  There was a rule I was supposed to follow. Except with Jessa so close with the faint scent of rose on her skin, I couldn’t think. She was everything I shouldn’t want.

  Mate, you shall not shag your best friend’s sister. Fuck. I’d already crossed so many lines. What was one more?

  I didn’t mean for it to go so far. But she smelled so good. A little spicy from the pepper I’d used on dinner and a little sweet, like dessert. She smelled fucking incredible.

  The little mewling sound she made at the back of her throat while she backed up just drove me further. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t process information. God help me, I was unable to make any kind of clear coherent decisio
ns right now. My synapses were fried. I’d scorched every single one of them just by looking at her.

  With a low growl, I turned her around and backed her up against the counter, bending my knees slightly and angling her just how I wanted. Finally, I just gave up the ghost and picked her up, settling her on the island. My hands were on the back of her thighs and just like that, I hoisted her up.

  God, she was the perfect height for this. And just—yeah, right fucking there. My dick pressed against my zipper, throbbing, begging to be let free. To seek out her heat.

  Jessa rocked her hips into mine. And I couldn’t help but answer every roll of her hips with one of mine. I ran my nose against the column of her throat, inhaling her deep. I planted open mouth kisses along her jawline, the column of her neck, and the hollow of her throat.

  Jesus Christ, why was she so—

  The moment she scored her nails in my hair and over my scalp, the shiver of need went through the entire length of my body. I couldn’t focus. I knew if we kept this up I was going to fuck her right there on the counter.

  Just take her right now and give two shits about consequences later.

  My dick pressed against her heat, and she whimpered. I needed more. Wanted more.

  The stretch of skin displayed by her blouse tempted me. Taunted me. I needed to know how soft she was. Just a taste and I could stop. One taste and I’d pull back.

  Dick: The hell you will.

  I slid a hand under the soft jersey. Oh, fuck, yes. My fingers skimmed over her skin, and she trembled in my arms. When my thumb traced over the edge of her bra, she arched her back.

  Don’t do it. You can’t do this.

  The angel on my shoulder tried valiantly with one last protest. But the devil that had taken over my soul was having none of it. I traced my thumb over her nipple and her grip tightened in my hair as she rocked her hips.

  Yes. All I wanted was her with her clothes off, in bed, with her beneath me, shouting my name. “Go on Jessa, just ask me. I’ll make it good. Ask me to kiss you.”

  “Roone… God. That’s so…” Her voice trailed, and there was more whimpering as I teased her nipple. But then she was shaking her head. “So… good. But not on your life.”

  Fuck.

  This was supposed to a sexy game. Fun. Light. But my dick was apparently playing for keeps. I fucking tore my lips from her neck and deliberately backed away. My dick was screaming for relief and my skin was on fire.

  “Okay. Let’s finish dinner, then I’ll walk you to your flat.”

  Her eyes blinked open. “Are you fucking serious?”

  “What?”

  “You’re leaving me this turned on?”

  I couldn’t help the chuckle, despite the steel pole in my jeans. “Princess, to make the orgasm so good you tell your best mate about it, it’s going to include kissing. So you don’t get one without the other.”

  She narrowed her gaze at me, and I swore she was going to spit fire. “Nope. Not going to happen.”

  Sure it won’t. “Okay then. Food, then home.”

  She pouted. “I’m not hungry for food anymore. Besides, I’m across the hall, I can make it on my own.”

  “I don’t know what kinds of wankers you date, but I give door to door service whether you like it or not.”

  She tilted her chin up. “Fine. I think I’ve lost my appetite anyway.”

  I wasn’t hungry for food anymore either. My dick screamed at me, but I ignored it. Instead, I cleared my throat. “Okay, off we get.”

  At her door, she turned to face me, petulant scowl on those pretty lips. “So, you really aren’t kissing me?”

  Fuck, I wanted to so bad. “Not without you explicitly asking.”

  She glowered but opened her door and muttered goodnight. Despite my vow not to shag my best friend’s sister, I was glad I wasn’t the only one suffering.

  23

  Jessa…

  Roone was getting under my skin. I tossed in bed. Why was it the one man who was so damn infuriating was the one I also couldn't get out of my head?

  I just kept thinking about the way his nose trailed along the column of my neck, his hands on my belly, thumbs gently grazing the skin. His voice. Telling me to just ask for that kiss. How everything would feel so much better if I just asked for the kiss.

  Why the hell didn't you ask for the damn kiss?

  Because I'm stubborn. Stubborn and mule-headed and stupid. I should've taken the kiss. Would it really kill me to give him a client?

  Yes. It will kill you.

  Okay. Yeah. It would kill me. I was not giving up without a fight. Just because the man had magic lips, smelled insane and was so sexy he probably came with a combustible-panties warning label, that didn’t mean I needed to give in. And true to his word, we'd had two dates now. Two, and he hadn't even kissed me. Easy. One more date and I'd be scot-free.

  Except you want him to kiss you.

  God. I did. So much. The thing was, it was more than just how he made me feel. He was actually a pretty good guy. I tossed around the bed again and grabbed my pillow, punching it. "I hate you."

  My poor pillow was no Roone stand-in.

  "Although I don't really hate you. I wish I did though."

  I flopped back over hugging the pillow tight to me.

  My real problem was that I remembered the look on his face as we drove up to the grave site. Stricken. Sad. Alone. All I wanted to do was reach over and tell him it was okay. The way his fingers had intertwined with mine, that had changed something. As if all of a sudden, we were allies, as if we understood each other. His pain was my pain, and my pain was his pain. Everything had changed. And now, I couldn't get him out of my goddamn head.

  He was the kind of guy who would control everything. Cold, calculated control. And no way in hell was I going to let anyone tell me what to do. Too much of my life had been like that. It made me want to rebel just for the sake of rebelling. Even if something was in my favor. And that was essentially Roone. Just looking at him made me want to shake him and scream just because you said it, I'm not doing it. Which was childish. Immature. Irrational. I was well aware. But what was worse was the knowing look he'd give me. As if he knew the level of my irrationality and was silently judging me for it.

  Well, he hadn't grown up with my father, had he? Being woken from a sound sleep and moving like a thief in the night. Only allowed to take one bag. Leaving behind everything you'd just gotten used to. I’d learned to survive like that. I’d learned to survive with not knowing what came next, with having someone else in complete control of my life. I hadn't even started to become hardened to it until I recognized that my father was just plain ill. There was no boogeyman. No one was coming to hurt me. The old man was just crazy.

  But was he really?

  Yes. Yes, he was. One break-in at my flat was the one bad thing to happen my whole life. My whole adult life. That did not mean there was a boogeyman. Now, I lived a normal life where I had roots. Real roots. No one was up-ending that serenity.

  You sure as hell don't seem serene.

  I tossed again. Slapping the pillow over my head and screaming into it. God, I was so keyed up, so tightly wound. All I needed was—

  Oh, you know what you need. And you know full well Roone Ainsley is perfectly capable of delivering.

  No. I was not going to go and beg for an orgasm from Roone. Hell, I'd been nearly there as it was. That would be just too humiliating.

  I reached into the nightstand next to my bed and fumbled around until I found what I was looking for. Old faithful.

  It was a little bullet vibrator that would do the trick. Take the edge off. Keep me from doing something stupid like running across the hall and knocking on his door and begging him to just kiss me already.

  I dragged my pillow off my face and settled back against it. Sliding the bullet between my fingers over my skin. My belly. Into my panties. I twisted the bullet slightly, activating the vibration. And then I let my imagination wander.


  If it was in my imagination, it wasn't wrong. If it was my imagination, he wasn't really controlling me. That was me. My imagination.

  Semantics.

  I lay still and let myself think about that first kiss with Roone, the way he laid waste to all of my senses. The way he'd gripped my hips, his hands in my hair, anchoring me. Tongue completely owning my mouth. And then I thought about the way he teased. His nose along the column of my neck, inhaling, his lips barely brushing my skin. His hands still gripping. Still asking permission. Begging really. The tip of his tongue, tracing little designs over my skin. The low timbre of his voice as he whispered, "Go on just ask me. I would kiss you so good you would melt. We both want it. Just ask."

  That did it. It was the voice. The way he said it. So commanding and authoritative. I was flying. Screaming really. Jesus Christ. Just imagining him talking dirty to me set me off like a rocket.

  I panted then dropped back on my pillow. I was in so much trouble. I wanted him so bad I could taste it.

  Roone…

  It was a rare day that Ariel and I both had off, but that's how the schedule had worked out this time. So we were using the time to finish the last reports, to see what we could shake loose regarding the break in. Ariel had even splurged, insisting that we needed to get out. We picked a spot outside of Jessa's main drag, so nowhere near Central London. We went all the way out to West London, Chiswick, for breakfast. It was a place along the Thames River called Annie's. It was perfect. Quiet. Quaint, with checkered table cloths and well-worn wooden chairs. And we could still manage surveillance from here. Today, Jessa had a team of four on her, but from the looks of it, she wasn't leaving her flat anytime soon.

  "Okay, so do I need to ask how you’re feeling?"

  I frowned. "You're asking me about my feelings? Remember, you and I, team Elsa, conceal don't feel."

  She chuckled as she sipped her coffee. “Yes. But I mean, I do know it was the anniversary of your mum’s passing. How are you holding up?"