Royal Engagement

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Royal Engagement Page 112

by Chance Carter


  “Sure,” she said. In one swift motion, Casey flipped her gorgeous tresses over her head and tied them up into a perfectly messy ponytail. “What can I do?”

  Casey, though new to the world of camping, put forth her best effort in helping me set up the tent. Twenty minutes—and countless laughs—later, our tent for two was complete with our bags inside. I couldn’t help but think about how refreshing it was to be with a girl who wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty.

  In the past, women just assumed that, because I had money, I only wanted to do what they considered to be “rich people things”, like jetting off to Europe for the weekend or getting front row tickets to a theater show. Sure, I considered myself to be well-off, but I was also just an ordinary guy who had grown up in a middle-class Florida family. I liked the simple things, like camping, and jogging, and going to the movies. The last girl I asked to go camping barely let me get the words out of my mouth before shooting me down and laughing. I looked over at Casey, who was checking for the third time to make sure the pegs were in evenly, and I knew she was different.

  “So, now what?” Casey asked.

  “That’s up to you,” I said. “We can go for a hike, relax by the lake, maybe go for a swim.”

  Casey barely let me finish giving the options before she said, “A hike sounds like fun!”. Since hiking was my third-favorite form of exercising—behind jogging and free weights—I had no objections. Taking Casey’s hand in mine, I led her down the trails I’d hiked on previous visits.

  “Is a four-mile loop too much for our first hike?” I asked.

  “It’s perfect! Let me go change my shoes!”

  While Casey was in the tent, I set up a canoe for us to use later on. We spent nearly two hours on the trail, stopping at the halfway point for a lunch I didn’t even know Casey had packed. In between bites of chicken salad sandwiches and kettle-cooked chips, I recounted to Casey my time in the Boy Scouts. She was equal parts amused and interested, as most people were when they learned I had been a scout. Casey, wanting to contribute something back to the conversation, told me about a friend of hers that was a Girl Scout growing up. I nodded as she told me about her friend’s attempt to break the Girl Scout cookie-selling record in Tallahassee.

  Everything felt so natural with Casey. When we hit the third mile marker, she jumped on her tiptoes and gave me a big smooch. It felt like we’d been dating for years. As I watched Casey’s voluptuous body make its way around the corner in front of us, I caught a glimpse of our future. We’d only been dating—was that even what this was? – for a little under three months, but I could see us taking little road trips like this for years to come. Maybe we could even bring our child along. The thoughts flooding my mind brought me to the realization I’d been dodging for days.

  I was falling in love with Casey Donohue.

  Chapter 13

  Casey

  “Want another s’more?” Alexander asked.

  “I’m good,” I said. After two fire-roasted hot dogs and three s’mores with double chocolate, I was stuffed.

  “C’mon! The baby needs nourishment!” The way Alexander talked about the baby so nonchalantly—and fatherly—made me weak in the knees, and it was enough to get me to say yes to another s’more, this time with single chocolate. Up until this point, it seemed like we had an unspoken agreement not to discuss the baby or our future plans. Maybe this was a good thing.

  The only other time the baby had come up in conversation was earlier in the day, during our mini canoe outing. As he paddled, Alexander casually mentioned a favorite brewery of his, one that he insisted was the best in the area. He’d said how there was a beer festival coming up in a few weeks that he’d like to take me to—and his face turned the color of a tomato when he remembered I was pregnant.

  “Oh my goodness,” he said. “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry.”

  Thankfully, we’d been able to move past that quickly. We were both naturally humorous, sarcastic people, so our unusual situation had simply magnified that. I loved that I could laugh with Alexander, and, strangely, it felt as though that moment in the canoe brought us closer together.

  The moonlight on the lake was magical, and I found myself wondering why I had never gone camping before. You would think that, in all of the foster homes I’d been in, someone I’d come across would have enjoyed camping. But I was soaking it all in for the first time, and it was even better than I could have imagined.

  As Alexander took a bite of his burnt, gooey marshmallow, I tiptoed away from the fire. The log on which I’d been sitting now stood alone, empty, as I did a little twirl away from it. “Are you coming?” I said. I looked back at Alexander, who was still sitting by the campfire in the moonlight. In a move I’d only ever dreamed of doing, I skipped another step toward the lake and pulled my shirt off over my head. I flung the shirt onto a tree branch and did a little shimmy to further capture Alexander’s attention.

  All of a sudden, I felt the rush of Alexander’s strong arms around me. As I reached around and pulled his V-neck off, sliding my hands over every inch of his muscles, I felt Alexander’s strong fingers unhook my bra. We simultaneously took off our bottoms and undergarments, meeting each other in a clumsy tangle. Alexander put his arm around my waist and fed me the sweetness of his mouth. Our tongues intertwined for several moments until we slowly parted.

  We stood naked, only inches apart, with nothing but the faint glow of the moon upon us. Before I could make my next move, Alexander took the lead. He leaped toward the lake, kicking some twigs out of the way, and dove straight into the water. He emerged to the surface, shaking drops of salty water from his hair. “I’m ready for you!”

  “Alexander!” I exclaimed. I let out a faint giggle to hide the shivers plaguing my body. I had never been as adventurous as I felt with Alexander. He made me feel comfortable, safe, and, unlike any other man I’d been with before, sexy. With my breasts knocking against my skin, I ran in to meet his embrace. The warmth of Alexander’s hands counteracted the initial cold I felt.

  I held my breath and went under the water, my foot brushing along the sand at the bottom. We kissed in between bursts of swimming and splashing around. I finally understand what all this skinny-dipping hype is about, I thought as Alexander cradled my breasts under the water. Liana and Jane will never believe this. After all, I was a live-by-the-rules kind of girl, for the most part. On top of that, swimming brought back memories of days spent at the beach with my mother when I was young, so it was something I tried to avoid. It was nice to be making new—and positive—memories here with Alexander. I couldn’t have ever guessed camping would lead to this.

  With a strange sense of confidence, I pulled Alexander from the water and marched him back to the tent with me. We lay down inside as our hands gripped whatever body part of the other’s we could latch on to. My tongue slid between his lips as he let out a low moan, and his broad chest, lined with strong muscles and intricate tattoos, rested against mine. Saliva mixed with lake water as we kissed.

  Alexander caressed my tightened breasts with his tongue as he made his way down my body. I suddenly felt his warm tongue push open the lips of my hot, wet pussy. I thrust my pussy against him and grabbed his head, pulling him tighter against me. My stiffened legs remained flat, and Alexander went further into my soft flesh with his strong tongue. I felt uncontrollable moans leave my body. Deep and wet.

  It felt as if his tongue was a smaller version of his cock as it fucked me, in and out, in and out. Then he was sucking my clit and swallowing my juice and I couldn’t take any more. An orgasm rushed through me like a tidal wave and I wrapped my legs around his head as if I was trying to strangle him.

  He freed himself and looked down into my eyes. Then he kissed my lips and I could taste myself on him.

  In one graceful movement, Alexander flipped me over so that I was lying on my front. Then his tongue was on my ass, licking my anus and sending tendrils of pleasure through me that outweighed the sense of embarr
assment I would usually feel at a moment like this.

  He’d made my pussy so wet that everything was soaking down there, and he rubbed his cock between my legs to lube it up. Then he rubbed the same juice on my ass hole and slid a finger inside me.

  “Are you ready for this?”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered, but his finger in my ass felt so good, and turned me on so much, that I pushed my ass against his hand, forcing his finger deeper inside me.

  I felt him position the head of his cock against my ass, and then he began to slide inside me. The sensation was overwhelming, and so naughty. I couldn’t believe we were actually doing this.

  We moved back and forth, again and again, our heartbeats in synchrony. Lake water collided with sweat as Alexander continued thrusting, landing in all the right places. I never would have imagined anal would feel so good, but with Alexander it was pure perfection.

  He moved in deeper and squeezed my breasts from behind. It was fast and frantic. I arched my back and moved my buttocks even closer to him. Raising my hips, I shuddered with longing and tried to contain my rapid breaths.

  I was so close to orgasm, my nipples erect with desire. It was happening. I felt Alexander’s warm release inside my ass and the sensation sent me avalanching over the edge of ecstasy. Screams came from my mouth, a mouth numb from the cold and the pleasure of Alexander’s penetration. The wild pleasure sent me off my knees, collapsing onto the floor of the tent. Damn, was that amazing.

  I’d heard from some oversharing patients at the clinic that sex was better when you’re pregnant, but this was otherworldly. I couldn’t believe we’d just had anal. I’d heard of it but never imagined I’d actually be doing it.

  Alexander moved closer to me and slid his arm under my head. The only sound that filled the tent was that of our shallow breathing as we each aimed to reclaim our breaths. Suddenly aware of the chill in the air, I took a thick, fleece blanket from my duffle bag and placed it across both of our bodies. Alexander’s satin skin was warm against mine as I softly kissed his lips. Still unclothed, we laid in a peaceful silence until we fell asleep.

  I awoke to the sound of the crackling fire and the smell of—what was it? Maybe a cross between a diner and a McDonald’s. Reaching onto the fleece blanket beside me, I noticed that Alexander was no longer in the tent. I threw on a t-shirt and shorts, fixed my hair as best I could, and unzipped the door to the outside world.

  “Mornin’, sexy,” Alexander said. What a greeting to wake up to. “Hope you like breakfast burritos!”

  “I love all sorts of breakfast and all sorts of burritos,” I said with a grin. “So… last night was fun!”

  For the first time that morning, Alexander looked up from the fire and into my eyes. “I’ve got to be honest,” he said. Panic took over my thoughts. Great. This was it. He was over me, or over us, or over the baby. I knew everything was too good to be true. “Yesterday was one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.”

  “Me too,” I blurted, a wave of relief rushing over me. One of these days I was going to accept that Alexander was actually into me—and into us being together—but it still seemed too soon to get my hopes up.

  “Here you go,” Alexander said, handing me a steel camping plate with a neatly-wrapped tortilla on it. “I found the recipe online. It has eggs, cheese, bacon, and peppers.”

  I picked up the breakfast burrito and offered Alexander a thankful smile. “This looks great!” My first bite told me otherwise. It was soggy and awful-tasting, and it took every part of me not to spit it out.

  “How is it?”

  “Alexander, it’s terrible,” I said. He’d been so wonderful to me that I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I also didn’t want to have any lies in our relationship.

  Alexander shook his head. “Ouch. That stung.” Before I could offer up an apology, he took a bite out of his burrito and immediately spat it onto the ground. “Holy shit! That is terrible! I’m so sorry, Casey!”

  “That’s alright,” I giggled. It was good to know that even the most perfect person I’d ever met was human and made mistakes from time to time. “We can stop for breakfast on the way back.”

  With that, we got up, put out the fire, and packed up our belongings. Alexander let me help him take down the tent, though I’m fairly certain I actually made it more difficult for him by getting in the way. We spent most of the car ride in silence, but not the kind of silence that meant there was nothing to talk about. It was more of a comfortable silence, the kind when you feel so comfortable around someone that you don’t feel the need to keep the conversation going all the time.

  About ten miles outside of Atlanta, we stopped at a rundown diner that looked more like a backyard shed than a business establishment. “This place is the best,” Alexander said. He seemed so excited about it that I threw my doubts out the window and followed him inside.

  With three or four booths and half a dozen counter stools, this was, by far, the smallest diner I’d ever been to. After feasting on the “Hungry Folks Special”, which Alexander insisted was the must-have option, I could attest that it was also the best diner I’d ever been to. On the ride back to Alexander’s house, we listened to Prince’s Purple Rain album, a guilty pleasure of mine that Alexander also happened to have in his glove compartment.

  Alexander continued to surprise me. He had money—there was no doubt about it—but he lived like an ordinary person. I loved that we could do fancy dinner sometimes and greasy breakfast other times. I loved that he didn’t mind leaving his gorgeous mansion for a tent in the woods from time to time.

  So far, Alexander had exceeded all my wildest dreams—so why was I leaving the weekend feeling excited but also uneasy?

  Chapter 14

  Alexander

  As I made my way from the parking lot of Preston Solutions to my office, I engaged in polite chit-chat with several employees and a supplier visiting with our VP of Finance. They could talk about numbers and figures all they wanted, but there was only one thing on my mind. Casey. I had to admit that our lack of communication had taken its toll on me. It had been a week and a half since our camping trip—not that I was counting—and I hadn’t heard from her at all. Not a single phone call or text message.

  “Good morning, Mr. Preston,” Rachel, one of the interns said.

  “Good morning,” I replied half-heartedly. Could she see that my heart was hurting on the inside? How about the other fifty-two employees at the company?

  “I’ll see you at the staff meeting at two o’clock, correct?”

  “Yes, sir,” Rachel said. She retreated to her cubicle as I followed the linoleum flooring to my office.

  I hated feeling this way. I had never been the kind of guy to pine over a girl or check twenty times a day to see if she’d gotten back to me. I guess I’d become one of those guys. I couldn’t have dreamed up a more perfect camping night than ours, so I wasn’t sure why I was getting the cold shoulder. For the sake of my company, I had to put these feelings aside, at least for now.

  I took my seat at my desk and, noticing the green, blinking light on my telephone, played through my messages. I had one voicemail from a client, two from Margie, my secretary, one from my buddy, Brett, and two others from local colleges wanting to set up meetings regarding our spring internship program. I skipped over Brett’s to jot down the information from the other voicemails and left his for last.

  “Hey man.” Brett’s always-cheerful voice rang out through my speakerphone. “I have a few hours to kill tonight while the girls are at dance class and thought you might want to grab a beer. Flanagan’s at 7? Let me know!”

  I smiled to myself as I thought about Brett, a party animal back in our college days, helping his daughters with their ballet slippers and dropping them off at dance class. Oh, how times had changed. His girls were four and six-years-old and it was still, all these years later, hard to wrap my mind around the fact that Brett was a daddy.

  It suddenly occurred to me that
Brett might be the perfect person to give me the advice and perspective I needed. After all, he was married with kids—and he’d knocked up his wife with their first kid before they were married. Ok, so it wasn’t exactly the same situation I had with Casey. Still, it was the closest I had to go by, so I texted Brett and told him I’d be there.

  “Mr. Preston,” Margie said, knocking on my open door. “You have a meeting with the marketing team in five.”

  “Of course,” I replied. I pulled out the bottom-right drawer of my desk and dug through the file folders until I found the one labeled “Marketing- Q3”.

  Our marketing team had eight members: a VP of Marketing, two marketing directors, two marketing associates, a graphic designer, a PR specialist, and an intern. Once a quarter, we gathered in a conference room and listened as each person presented their work from the previous quarter. We then spent the second half of the meeting setting goals and target objectives for the next quarter. As luck would have it, the meeting this quarter fell on the day I wanted to be anywhere but the office.

  “Good morning, folks,” I said, taking my place at the head of the table. Everyone had been with the company for at least two or three years, with the exception of one of the marketing associates and the intern. They had each only been there a few months, so this was their first quarterly meeting. They were both visibly nervous. I suppose it was intimidating having the CEO sitting in on their meeting, but I liked to think of myself as a cool boss. Maybe that was naïve, but I wasn’t much older than them when I started the company. I’d been in their shoes. I vowed to never be like some of the CEOs I’d worked for during college.

  “Good morning,” a few of them mumbled back.

  “I want to thank you for clearing your schedules so that we can meet this morning,” I started. “The goal of this meeting is to come up with clear ideas of what we need to work on or improve over the next quarter. This quarter was the most successful Preston Solutions has ever seen, and I think that it’s in large part due to our increased marketing efforts. Thank you all for all your hard work. With that being said, I’m going to turn this over to our VP of Finance, Mike Alvarez.”

 

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