Royal Stripper

by Sienna Valentine

  Her bright smile and inviting eyes might have been enough for me before, but now it was like there was a steel block in my head that only Ally could get behind. And it continued to drive me crazy.

  I could have Tracy right there in the stacks, my hand over her mouth to keep her from making any noise. It would have been one of the most clandestine fucks I'd ever had, and for that reason alone would have normally been irresistible.

  But it wouldn't be with Ally. And, right now, she was the one I wanted.

  I just didn't know why.

  "Maybe you could help Glen?" I said, rolling the name over my tongue. "That way I could talk to Ally."

  Tracy's expression fell. "Uh, I could try. He usually only ever wants to talk to her."

  I know the feeling.

  I nodded for her to try. With one last, longing look, she turned and flitted off to the computer section. I could see my angry librarian leaning over the old man, an expression of consternation across her features. Whatever they were doing, she already looked highly involved in it.

  Glen, on the other hand, seemed less committed to the task. He spent less time looking at the screen than he did trying to peer down Ally’s shirt as she bent over, or at her long legs as she stood next to him.

  They were great legs, I would give him that. Even in the black dress pants she wore, her shapely thighs drew the eye.

  Ally's beauty was definitely a factor behind her getting stuck in my head. Even from a distance, when most people's features tended to blend together into an appearance of stock humanity, she stood out from the crowd. I couldn't tell whether it was the contrasting shades of her red lips and dark hair against her pale face, or if it was the way her delicate cheekbones cast her facial structure in stark relief against certain light. Whatever it was, she was gorgeous. And I don't even think she knew it.

  Tracy approached the pair as I watched on, arms crossed over my chest. I didn't particularly enjoying having to bring in another person to get Ally to talk to me, but she was making it so damn difficult. At this point I was certain she was less interested in helping that old fool as she was in getting away from me.

  When she finally glanced up and over at me, her eyes were fierce.

  I grinned back, giving her a little wave.

  A moment later, Tracy shuffled back across the room. "Glen didn't go for it.”

  Of course he didn't.

  "Fine. I'll just... read something."

  Tracy looked disappointed. Poor girl. I wished I could tell her that normally she would have been my type, but that today my cock just didn't feel the same about her as it did about Ally.

  I grabbed the first book I could reach from the nearest shelf and sequestered myself in a chair near the computer area. I didn't read it. I merely opened it and pretended to be absorbed while I kept an eye on my target, who I suspected was likely to make a run for it again if I didn't.

  10

  Matthias

  Back home, I'd always enjoyed reading. I didn't do enough of it over here. Part of the reason was that reading with a hangover was the same as drilling a hole through your brain, and I spent far too much time recovering from wild nights out. Mostly, however, it was because reading always reminded me too much of the library in my family's palace.

  It had two stories of bookshelves spread over a football field sized room. I'd spent most of my childhood in there, absorbing all the adventures my little heart could dream of while the salt-laced air wrapped around me from the open windows. When I took breaks, I would gaze out at the sapphire-tipped waves far below and imagine myself as part of whatever adventure I’d been reading about.

  I bet Ally would love it there. Not that she would ever see it. Or know about it.

  I preferred when the women in my life—for however brief a time they were around—didn't know about my background. That was part of the allure of coming to America in the first place. The anonymity.

  I'd grown up with women throwing themselves at me, even before I understood why. In a way, I couldn’t blame them—most people saw the luxury and status of being a royal, and naturally imagined what it would be like to be part of that world, just as I would imagine myself on grand adventures in the library. For eligible women, snagging a prince as a husband meant their children would always be wealthy and well-looked after—perhaps even growing up to be a King.

  My brother, Juris, reveled in that lifestyle but it had grown old for me very quickly. It was fun at first, but it was far too easy to let it go to your head, as I feared had happened to Juris. He took all the fame and adoration too seriously. Our youngest brother, Arris, was the opposite. He’d eschewed the family almost completely when he was old enough, and we barely ever heard from him.

  I could understand that. Being a nobody in America was challenging in a lot of ways, but in many others, it was far easier.

  After a few minutes of sitting quietly and watching, I noticed Ally begin to straighten and look as if she was finishing whatever she'd been doing with Glen. I slapped the book closed and dropped it onto the table next to me, deliberately making more noise than necessary.

  Ally's eyes met mine across the room. A current of electricity sizzled through my veins. I wondered what I'd have to do to get her to take me into the stacks and fuck me right here, right now.

  Something about her expression made it clear that wasn't an option.

  Just as I rose and finished brushing the wrinkles out from my shirt, she stormed over to me.

  "You've got some nerve," she muttered. "This is where I work."

  "And this is where I come to get my books," I replied. "It's a happy coincidence."

  She gave me a flat look that told me she didn't buy that for a second, not that I expected her to.

  "What do you want, Matthias?"

  There’s that troubling question again.

  Coming to America had been about seeking anonymity and taking some time to lick my wounds. And I had. It had taken some months, but eventually I got over the events that led me to leaving Caspierre.

  Eventually, I even started to miss the attention and adoration of being a royal. Having that sort of attention all day every day was one thing, and in that situation it was easy to tire of, but that didn’t mean having it disappear completely wasn’t jarring. I also missed all the easy sex that came with being an eligible bachelor prince.

  Fortunately, I stumbled upon an easy fix for both: stripping.

  As long as no one recognized me, I had no problem being the occasional center of attention at parties filled with sex-starved women. I was proud of my body and happy to both show it off and have it worshiped. At the same time, I was just as happy to return the favor by worshipping them right back, right at the alter of femininity that nestled between their legs.

  Plus, this job afforded me the perfect excuse to stay single. Most women weren’t looking to a stripper to provide a stable, long term relationship.

  It was the perfect situation, and came with none of the pressures, expectations or dangers of dating back home. I’d been burned and had resolved not to fall into that trap again. Yet here I was, pursuing Ally, and I knew already that she was just the right kind of addictive to become a very big mistake in my life.

  Yet I couldn’t stop myself.

  "I wanted to check out a couple of books, but I'm beginning to think I'm not welcome here."

  Even if she had "danger" written on her forehead, I still wouldn't have been able to resist teasing her. It was just too much fun.

  Ally pursed her lips together in a flat line. They looked delicious.

  "How did you find me?" she asked.

  "Like I said, this is my local library." I looked around at the tables and shelves fondly. "Frankly I'm surprised you haven't seen me here before."

  Ally looked ready to charge at me like an angry rhinoceros. The moment she tipped her head forward, I made a mental note to get out of the way. “You already told me you came here to talk to me.”

  "Okay, fine." I put my hand
s up in a placating gesture. "You got me. This wasn’t just a happy accident. "

  "You've got three seconds to tell me how you knew to find me here before I call security and have them haul your ass down to a holding cell for trespassing."

  I took a step toward Ally, grin stretching across my face.

  "One."

  Another step.

  "Two."

  I stopped before her, challenging her with my gaze. She didn't back away, even though her folded arms nearly brushed against the cotton of my shirt. I admired her for it. Shit, I admired her for a lot of things. And threatening me with security that likely didn't exist and a holding cell that definitely didn't was just another thing to add to the list.

  "Three," she said, but it came out as more of a whisper than anything else.

  It was the first time she lowered her voice since she finished helping Glen, so it was no surprise that we were beginning to attract attention again.

  Ally noticed that at the same time I did. She broke eye contact with me and sent a sharp look to her left, where a couple of teenage girls were ogling and giggling.

  "Can we talk somewhere else at least?" Ally nibbled on her lip and furrowed her brow. "I'm not one for an audience."

  I leaned in toward the shell of her ear. "Fine by me."

  I'm sure Ally didn't want me to notice that shiver that ran through her as my hot breath caressed her skin, but I did. And it delighted me.

  She grabbed my arm like I was a young miscreant and towed me deep into the bookshelves, far from prying eyes. When she seemed confident that we wouldn’t be overheard, she stopped.

  "Do I need to start my countdown again?"

  I chuckled. "Because it was so effective the first time...?"

  She narrowed her eyes. "Okay, I'll try something different then." Clearing her throat for dramatic effect, Ally donned what I can only imagine was the expression she used when talking to Glen. "Could you please tell me how you knew to find me here?"

  "To be honest, I preferred the threatening countdown."

  "Dammit, Matthias! Just answer my question!"

  I snickered. If she was going to continue to raise her voice, we weren’t going to remain hidden for long.

  "Okay, chérie, since you asked so nicely..." I leaned against the shelf. "Candace told me."

  Ally frowned and fixed me with a stare. "Why? What do you want from me?"

  The moment she asked, I realized the real reason I was here. And what set her apart. She wanted nothing to do with me, and it was driving me crazy.

  I finally understood how the women who went after me felt. Being a prince had made me the ultimate unattainable man. I'd always known that. I hadn't realized that becoming a stripper would earn me the same kind of attention. Apparently being a performer was almost as alluring as being royalty.

  But I didn't want that. I'd never wanted that. I didn't want women to want me just because I was hot and unattainable. Not for more than a night at a time, at least.

  But with Ally, it felt like I had to earn her attention. I had to fight for every second of it.

  And I liked it.

  But it wasn't just that. Ally was witty. She was strong. She was fucking gorgeous. Most importantly, she could give as good as she got, even when pressed into uncomfortable situations. I completely admired her for all of that.

  But like hell I was going to tell her.

  "I don't know," I finally said.

  Ally blinked. Then blinked again. "You don't know why you're here?"

  "No." I gave a noncommittal shrug. "Felt right at the time. Still feels pretty right. I'm just going with it."

  "You're unbelievable."

  I smiled. "I think you mean I'm your fantasy. The two words are similar in meaning, but not quite the same." I winked. "You're a librarian. You shouldn't be having your English corrected by someone who doesn't even speak it as their first language."

  "Excuse me?" Her mouth dropped open in indignation. She must have decided it wasn't worth the retort, because she clapped it back shut.

  I sensed there was an inferno raging just beneath her creamy skin. I wished she would set it free. I'd tasted a little of her passion when we had sex, and I'd been drunk on it. Even though she was inexperienced, something about the way she moved and kissed as though her very existence depended on it made me thirst for her. I ached for another drink.

  I'd had plenty of great sex in my life. But I'd never had anything quite like her. Having her writhe beneath me was one of the greatest sexual experiences of my life. Something about the way our bodies connected sparked a deeper burn within me. It went beyond just physical, and was another reason I couldn’t get her out of mind head.

  "Ally, relax." I approached her cautiously, taking hold of her upper arms and sending my warmest smile down toward her. "Maybe I don’t know exactly why I'm here, but I'm here."

  "That's the problem."

  "If it was such a problem, why are you still talking to me?"

  She frowned. "You're doing it again."

  "Doing what?"

  "You're trying to make me admit something that isn't true."

  "And what's that?" I gave her my most charming smile, the one I saved for the toughest situations.

  Ally's expression didn't budge an inch.

  "That I actually enjoy spending time with you."

  "Ah, so you finally admit it?"

  She wriggled out of my grasp, but only stepped away a small distance. I caught the faintest ghost of a smile on her lips.

  "I will admit that I enjoyed the time we spent together in the past, if that makes you happy," she said after a moment. "But only in a visceral, primal sort of way."

  My heart thumped hard in my chest at the memory of just how primal our interaction had been. A tingling between my legs reminded me of how much I wanted to continue such interactions.

  "If you wanted to get me naked again, chérie, all you had to do was ask." I began fiddling with the top button of my shirt. It was a bluff of course, but it worked as intended.

  Ally's hand shot out toward me and covered my own. The sudden contact sent a spike of white hot sensation through me. She must have felt it too, as she seemed just as surprised.

  "I'm getting mixed messages here," I said, not moving my hand. If I didn't move mine, perhaps she wouldn't move hers.

  But the moment had passed. Ally's hand darted back to her chest, where she held it like a wounded pup. I didn't blame her. The skin on the top of my fingers ached at the absence of her touch.

  Ally squared her shoulders and looked up at me, all hard lines and determination. "Let me clear it up for you, then—I'm not interested."

  "Fine." I grinned with nonchalance. "Just ask me to leave, and I'll be out of your hair forever. You'll never see me again."

  Ally's mouth opened, but no sound came out. She frowned and closed it, then opened it again. Still, nothing.

  "How about I make the situation a little more palatable." I took a step closer and reached out as if to stroke her face. My hand went past her, landing instead on the spine of a book next to her cheek. "This time when you ask me to leave, I'll leave. But on the condition that I'll see you tonight at seven p.m. at Fiamo."

  Ally's eyes filled with deliberation. She'd already failed to send me off permanently, for whatever reason. I could tell she didn't want to agree to a date, but also that she wanted me out of this library tout-suite.

  I found her internal struggle fascinating.

  "Fine," she said after a moment. Her tone was bitter, but I could see in her eyes that she wasn’t completely upset at the compromise. "Now will you please leave?"

  "With pleasure." I dropped my hand to my side and stuck both of them into the pockets of my jeans.

  I resisted the urge to whistle a tune on my way out of the library. Maybe she'd just agreed because she wanted me to go away, but I didn't care. I was going to get to see her again, and that was all that mattered.

  And it didn't hurt that she wanted to see me again,
too. She just didn't want to admit it.

  11

  Ally

  I threw down another reject on my bed. A pile was starting to build, one that I knew would be a huge pain to rehang. That didn't make the search go any easier.

  A clatter from outside my room caught my attention. Candace was home.

  And I was going to kill her.

  "I can't believe you told Matthias where to find me!" I said, storming into the hallway.

  Candace had flung her cardigan onto the floor by her bedroom door—one of my biggest pet peeves. If it wasn't for my obsessive cleanliness, there wouldn't be a single inch of floor in this apartment not covered in her cast-offs.

  "Hello to you, too." She slipped one shoe off, and kicked the other one toward the opposite wall.

  I crossed my arms and glared at her. "I now have a stalker because of you."

  "Is that so?" She flashed me a wicked grin. "How exciting."

  Candace was never one for confrontation. Or taking things seriously. Which was why I wasn't surprised when she immediately trundled into her room and closed the door.

  "Candace!"

  Honestly, sometimes I didn't know why we were such close friends.

  "Yes, darling?" She poked her head out of her doorway. I could see that she had already taken off her shirt and was halfway finished changing into pajamas.

  "You shouldn't have told Matthias anything about me. Now I have to go on a date with him tonight."

  At first, Candace furrowed her brow. Then she tipped back her head and let out a cackle of amusement.

  "Why are you laughing?" I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "This is serious."

  "Serious? Hun, it’s a date. Unless he held you at gunpoint and made you sign a marriage contract or something, I hardly call the situation dire. You’d think you were going off to war or something." She ducked back into her bedroom and I heard rustling noises, as well as her closet door sliding open and closed.

  I bit the bullet and steamrolled in, stepping over various clusters of clothing.