Royal Playboy

by Nana Malone

  The lights flickered on to full power, and I held my breath as I lifted my gaze to meet the most astonishing set of slate-gray eyes I'd ever seen—deep set and surrounded by thick, sooty lashes. Sandy blond hair, an angular jaw, high cheekbones and pouty mouth completed the picture of that amazing face. And the body, tall, lean and rangy. He was beautiful. There was no way this guy was the talker. He oozed sex appeal in spades. “Oh God.”

  He spoke at the same time through clenched teeth. "Who the fuck are you, and where the fuck is Miriam?"

  Shit. “You probably hear this all the time, but this is not what it looks like.”

  Tall and beautiful cocked his head, and his lips twitched into the hint of a smile. “You mean you’re not a beautiful girl in my flat, uninvited, wearing a handkerchief of a dress then?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. All a figment of your imagination. But while you’re imagining things, could you, uh, maybe help me unhook myself? I’m sort of stuck, and I don’t want to rip this dress. It costs more than my flat.”

  He raised a brow. “So if you move, that dress rips right off of you?”

  I sputtered. “What? No. Look, if you help me get loose, I’ll get out of your hair and you and Miriam can reschedule.”

  His intense gaze roved over my body. “Okay. On one condition.”

  I swallowed hard. Was he going to ask for something kinky? Besides just wanting to talk? “What’s that?”

  “You tell me who you are.”

  Xander

  My body locked into position as lust, closely followed by confusion and anger, flooded my veins. My brain fired off a stream of questions as I tried to make sense of the situation. Instead of Miriam, this girl with the wide, hazel eyes stood in my Notting Hill flat.

  Who the fuck was she? And why did she make my muscles bunch and my skin tight and itchy? From where I stood, the faint hint of coconut and hibiscus tickled my nostrils. The way the moonlight hit her honey-brown skin, she looked luminescent. And God knew that dress didn’t cover enough. Or maybe it covered too much. Admittedly that last thought was just… wrong on so many levels. And why the fuck did I care what her name was?

  I didn’t need that kind of shit at the moment. What I needed was Miriam. I had just over a week to find someone suitable to take to Paris. I could kill her for pulling this shit. We had an arrangement. It didn’t include substitutions. “Are you going to make me repeat myself? Or are you going to tell me your name?” Her eyes went wide at my raised voice, forcing me to modulate my tone and bite back a curse. “Please.”

  She blinked several times, causing her long lashes to just dust her cheekbones. “Uh, Jasmine. Like I said, there was a mix-up, and if you can just help me then I’ll be out of your way. No harm, no foul.”

  “You’re American?” I asked with a cocked head.

  “What? The accent gave me away?”

  There it was again. That twitchy thing my lips kept doing. Why did she make me want to laugh when all I really wanted to do was strangle Miriam? “For all I know you could be from Canada.”

  “Eh?” She nodded and muttered with a rueful smile.

  This time, there was no stopping the chuckle that escaped. As I shook my head, I wondered just how crazy this girl was. For starters, she didn't look like a Jasmine and secondly, she was no escort. There was something real about her. She wasn’t manufactured. She wasn't hard and world-weary or too sophisticated. She could make me laugh. “So tell me, Jasmine from Canada, what’s a nice Canadian girl like you doing working as an escort?”

  “What are the chances you’ll believe I’m working my way through school?”

  “About as much as me believing your name is Jasmine.”

  She licked her bottom lip, drawing all my focus to its fullness. “Look. This was a mistake. Just forget I was here.”

  Considering she was the reason I was here, that was unlikely to happen. “You realize a nice girl like you could get hurt playing around like this?” I spread my hands. “Was this Miriam’s idea?”

  Her brows furrowed, even as her chin tilted stubbornly. “Look, Miriam said it was supposed to be a no-stress kind of thing. I’m sorry. I really am.” She covered her face with her hands. “Just help me get unhooked and I’ll go. You clearly don't want me here anymore than I want to be here, so…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Who said I don’t want you here?” I stood rooted to the gleaming hardwood floor as the truth seeped inside my skull. I did want her there. It was the first time I’d laughed properly in weeks. Not to mention, there was something about her that made her accessible. Easy to connect to. She was completely guileless and wanted nothing from me. Too bad that made me want her. Her sassy attitude, her wide eyes and a mouth that looked like it was handmade to suck my cock had me itching to touch her. Stop it. What the fuck is wrong with you? I hadn’t planned on having sex. Though, someone should probably tell my cock that, because the fucker was starting to swell in my jeans.

  There was no way Miriam would do this to me. I’d made it clear I needed to see her. Why the fuck would she do this when I needed her? You’ve never tried to sleep with her before. I spun on my heel. This was so fucked up on so many levels.

  Some of the tension rolled off her shoulders. “D-do you need to talk? Miriam said you would want to.”

  That broke the spell. Soon, Jasmine, or whatever her name was, would have questions about why I was seeing an escort to talk, and I didn't need that headache. “No, I don’t need to talk. I’ll release you, and then we can promptly forget we met, yeah?”

  “Fine by me.”

  “Just one thing, though, I want your word that you’re not going to do this again. You’re not cut out to be an escort.” I strode toward her, tossing the envelope of Miriam’s usual payment on the mantel. I stopped when I was just a foot away from her. The coconut-and-hibiscus scent was even more potent up close. Was it her shampoo? Damn, it made me want to nuzzle her hair. It was official. I had issues.

  “Trust me, I won’t. I’ve had enough of walking on the wild side.”

  I reached for her but stopped before I touched her shoulder, my blood going thick and my voice dropping an octave. “Is that why you’re here? To walk on the wild side?”

  Her head reared back. “No. I thought I could do this. But I can’t.” Wiggling a little, she raised her brows pointedly. “A little help, please.”

  I muttered a curse and tried to reach behind her without touching her, but no dice. My motions just made another stitch rip. “Why the second thoughts? I’m not your type?”

  A strangled laugh escaped her pretty, pink lips. “Really? Someone as good-looking as you is fishing for compliments now? Why don't you tell me why you’re even here to see an escort if all you want to do is talk? I’m at a loss for why. But hey, it’s your prerogative. No judgment.”

  I cocked my head. “Somehow, that expression on your face looks an awful lot like judgment. I’ve seen that look on my mother’s face enough to recognize it.” Standing so close, I could see the flecks of green in her hazel eyes. And even better, I could tell that even though she was slim, those curves of hers weren’t enhanced but were enough to overflow my big hands. The evil side of my brain conjured an image of me fucking those honey-brown tits. What color would her nipples be? Mocha? An even more alluring image replaced it. This one had me fucking her ass cheeks. My cock sliding between the firm, oil-slick globes as I held on tight to her flesh. Fuck! I was a dirty boy. And fuck if I didn't want to show her just how dirty.

  I shook my head to rid myself of the image. Release her and fucking find Miriam.

  She nodded, and her hair brushed my cheek. “Is that why you’re seeing escorts? Mommy issues?”

  My muscles went tight as I fought to keep from nuzzling and inhaling deep. God, she smelled good. “You have a smart mouth for a Yank.”

  She glowered at me. “And you have pretty teeth for a Brit.”

  She licked her lips again, and the action made my mouth water. I wanted to kiss the sass
right off of her. Swaying a little, I said, "I needed Miriam."

  "Sorry, you got me instead. And since you don’t want to talk—"

  I studied her intently as both hands reached behind her. With my body pressed flush against hers, my fingers worked the material over the hook. “Who said I wanted to talk to Miriam?”

  Jasmine immediately attempted to flatten herself into the wall, but unfortunately for both of us, all she managed to do was trap my hands and bring our bodies closer together. I frowned and halted momentarily. "I'm not—" I shook my head. "I wouldn't hurt you."

  "Isn’t that what the praying mantis says just before biting off the head of its mate?" Despite her question, she relaxed again.

  The corner of my lips tipped up in a sardonic smile as I resumed my extrication. "Consider it foreplay."

  She stiffened again. “On second thought, I’ll just get myself free.”

  "You’re stuck. I’m just trying to release you so you can get out of my flat.” I softened my voice. “Maybe, since I’m pretty sure you can clock my heart rate, you tell me your real name?”

  “I—” She sighed. “It’s Imani.”

  “See, how bad was that? I’m Alexander.” She licked her lips, and my gaze narrowed on her mouth. “Fuck, you’re really going to have to stop doing that."

  She shifted on her feet. "I’m nervous. It’s not like I'm doing it on purpose."

  I shook my head and peered around her at the hook. There was no way to get her off the damn thing without pressing into her. “Doesn’t matter,” I muttered.

  I sucked in a deep breath and with it the scent of her. I could feel my pulse beating a tattoo under my skin. The closer I stood to her, the choppier my breathing became. Want. I needed to unhook her and get the hell away from her. My cock, however, disagreed. Vehemently. Need. I reached around her and tried to gently pry the fabric off the hook, and hearing a stitch tear, I stopped. The only way to get her off was to lift her. Her body pressed flush up against mine. On no planet was that a good idea.

  I clenched my jaw hard as I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her smoothly off her feet. Her body molded against me like a spray-on tan. Want. Need. I managed to unhook her and set her feet back on the ground, but not before sliding her all the way down my body. Every curve of hers pressed against me and I wanted to do a lot more to her tits than just fuck them. Like lick, suckle, and tease until her eyes rolled back into her head with pleasure. I needed to step away from her. The last thing I needed was a complication. But every command my brain gave went unheeded.

  "You're a little close, aren’t you?" Her voice was soft.

  Another chuckle escaped my lips. "I'm not sure you understand how this is supposed to go."

  She swallowed hard. "Oh, I understand the mechanics, but…” She paused, not sure how to put it. "You said that you didn't want to… uh… talk."

  I reached out and smoothed a lock of her hair between my fingers. "I think I changed my mind. I do want to talk. But there's something about you that makes me want to touch too."

  "You should realize that touching a woman's hair is a really personal thing."

  "So is standing in a man's flat wearing a dress made for sin, fuck-me heels, and a smile."

  "To be fair, I wasn’t smiling.” She rocked from foot to foot. “You're still standing too close."

  I laughed low. "And you still don't seem to know how this works."

  My skin tingled just from her proximity, and need pulled low in my belly. "Imani?"

  Gaze heavy-lidded, she mumbled, "Hmmm?"

  "I'm going to kiss you now."

  Chapter Five

  Xander

  My hands shook as the blood rushed in my ears. What. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing? The voice in my skull called louder and louder until I couldn't concentrate.

  A wave of lust washed through me. The force of it strong enough to make my hands shake. Fuck, I wanted her. So damn bad. What was so special about this girl?

  Oh, I'd wanted women before. Lots of women. But this was different. It wasn’t just her body. She made me laugh. Her sharp tongue turned me on almost as much as her insane body did. If this girl so much as breathed on me, I could lose control. And instead of running, I was threatening to kiss the source of danger?

  With her lips slightly parted, Imani blinked wide eyes up at me. I couldn’t be sure, but she looked like she was holding her breath. Was she scared? Was she just as confused as I was?

  When I inched closer, she let out a little puff of air, and I couldn't hold back the groan. Sliding my hands into her hair and fisting the strands at the nape of her neck, I dragged her to me and slid my lips over hers.

  God, she tasted sweet… with just a hint of bite. She was perfect. Cupping the back of her neck allowed my tongue to slide into her warm depths and explore. Blood rushed in my ears, driving me to take more. So much more. I needed to get closer, needed to feel her respond.

  The change in her was like ice slowly melting. When she finally kissed me back, sliding her tongue over mine, I moaned. Desire rode the back of debilitating need as I licked into her mouth, desperate to consume her.

  When she gasped, I took full advantage, pressing closer against her, relishing in every lush curve against my body. Tiny pinpricks of pain alerted me that she was grabbing onto my biceps, but I didn't care. It didn’t matter how much I took, the hunger didn’t sate. My body vibrated, and the base of my spine tingled with a pleasant hum. All the while my cock begged to be released, to be stroked, to be touched.

  Finally, Imani made a little mewling sound at the back of her throat, and she slid her arms around my neck. Fuck, yes. I drew her closer, my erection pressing against her belly. When her tongue slid over mine, tentatively tasting, I growled low in my throat and my hand fisted tighter.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered the tightening of my balls. What the fuck? I wanted to come? She was so soft and tasted like velvety ice-cream on a hot summer day, going down smooth and refreshing, making me want more.

  I dragged my lips from hers, but her fingers wound into the hair at the nape of my neck, tugging me closer. The only brain cells I had left were the two rubbing together, but I had to ask. If she said yes, I'd let her go, even if it killed me. "Do you want me to stop?"

  Imani’s tongue moistened her lower lip and she dragged heavy lids open to meet my gaze. She waited several moments before answering, then, slowly, she shook her head from side to side.

  "Thank fuck." I dipped my head again and nibbled at her lips until she parted them on a sigh and her tongue slid over mine easily. Her body molded even more tightly to me as she stood on tiptoes in an effort to bring us closer.

  Control. I needed to find some goddamned control. All I had to do was relax a little. Don’t rush. But fuck, I wanted to rush. She was rubbing her body against me, writhing in my arms, and I wanted to do lots of other things to elicit that reaction.

  Imani arched her back, and the last tenuous hold I had on my control evaporated.

  Picking her up easily, I blindly marched into the bedroom and deposited her in the middle of the bed without breaking the kiss. Well aware of how much smaller she was, I was careful not to lay my whole weight over her. Instead, I shifted us to our sides and settled her against me fully. With a rough groan, I hiked up a handful of her dress, exposing her flesh to my hands.

  “Fuuuuck.” She felt so good. The command my brain gave to slow down was at direct war with my body’s Yes, right there, murmurs. The tingling in my spine spread quickly, and the thundering roar of my heartbeat drowned out any other sound but her moans, mewls and little gasps.

  Frustration riding me, I shifted our bodies again so I could yank my shirt over my head before settling myself back against her. My cock aligned against the hot center of her body and I bit back a moan when Imani lifted her hips into mine.

  I dropped my forehead to hers, breaking the kiss. I gnashed my teeth together while I tried to quiet the tornado of emotions. With a feather-soft touch, she
cupped my cheek and kissed me softly. There was something so tender, unguarded, and vulnerable about her in that moment, and I was lost. Her soft touch was enough to force honesty out of me. "What are you doing to me? I am so desperate to be inside of you right now." I wanted this. For more than just one night. This was what it was supposed to feel like. I knew, because I’d been missing it in warm but emotionally empty beds for years.

  Her fingers drifted down my face, over my collarbone. From the ring I wore on a chain around my neck to my pecs. I whispered, “Fuck,” as she grazed my nipple. It made her smile. Sliding lower, she traced each of my abs as if counting them. But it wasn’t until she traced her fingers over my happy trail that I started to shake. Shit, I had to get myself under control. But it was like we were in a cocoon of fog where only this moment in time mattered.

  I released her and in record time shed my belt, leaving my pants hanging low on my hips. When was the last time I’d felt like this? Actually wanted someone just because it felt good? I didn’t want to rush this. I didn’t want to lose the way it felt. Didn’t want it to evaporate.

  When I slid back into bed, I gripped her hips reflexively as I kissed her again, rolling my hips into hers. The only sounds permeating the room were our gasps and groans as I devoured her with my mouth. From the way my skin hummed everywhere she touched me, I knew sliding into her would be heaven. I knew we would be combustible. Knew that she would own me. Because a small part of her did already.

  Imani arched into my body with a satisfied groan when I captured her breast in my palm, filling my hand and then some. I teased the peak with my thumb, moaning in satisfaction when it pebbled under my thumb. I wanted her crazy for me, desperate for release, desperate for connection. I wanted her to feel what I felt.