Spring Romance: NINE Happily Ever Afters

by Tessa Bailey

  On Wednesday morning, my family met with the man who would handle the Northcott estate, and we signed the releases to give him access to everything. My mother had struggled with it. When she tried to back out and claim they could do it without help, I had to go the tough love route.

  The harsh reality I painted for her made her cry.

  But the advisor could negotiate rates and payment plans and dig us out of the hole in a third of the time it’d take us to do it on our own.

  She glared at me as she signed one document after another. I’d been cold and direct because my frustration with them was reaching critical mass. After everything I’d done for my family’s sake, they weren’t just ungrateful—they had the nerve to act like I was the bad guy.

  Sadly, I gained new understanding into Macalister’s desire to control others. If left on their own, it was likely my family would destroy themselves.

  Dread pooled in my center as I drove up to the Hale estate and parked beside the garage. Royce had told me his father and Alice were still at the office, which helped with some of my anxiety, but I wasn’t looking forward to the conversation I needed to have about what I’d seen in the woods.

  Or what his father had said to me.

  I climbed the steps outside, and by the time I’d reached the front door, it swung open, revealing Royce in jeans and a t-shirt. He was so dressed down from the last time I’d seen him, but he still looked great. Less polished, but confident and in command.

  Summer was in full effect outside, but as I came into the house, I understood why he was wearing jeans. It was freezing. “The air conditioning must be working overtime.”

  He quirked his lips into a tight smile. “My father says he thinks better when it’s cold.” He shut the door behind me, cupped a hand on my cheek, and dropped a quick kiss on my lips. “Hi.”

  It was crazy how powerful his effect over me was. One chaste kiss and I was suddenly warm, even as goosebumps pebbled on my legs beneath my shorts. “Hi,” I answered back.

  “So, this is the foyer.”

  What? I peered at him with confusion. “I can see that.”

  His eyes were playful. “It’s where we’re starting our tour.”

  “Oh. I see.” I’d grumbled to him earlier how I hadn’t seen half of the house I was going to be living in. I glanced around and pretended to evaluate the space as if seeing it for the first time. “Yes, very nice.”

  Royce headed to the left and showed me the formal sitting room. We saw the casual living space, a guest suite, and the all-seasons room at the back of the house where we’d waited with his family for announcements. He took me into the sprawling kitchen and showed me where the important things were. Silverware. Glasses. Everyday plates.

  He avoided the dining room, pretending it didn’t exist, which I appreciated.

  The steps to the basement were narrow. The room to the right was the home movie theater. Leather recliners were placed in two tiered rows in front of a large screen, and a projector hung overhead.

  The room on the left was the wine cellar. It was all maple-colored racks lining the walls and warm brick. A wrought iron chandelier dangled from the arched ceiling. Royce barely gave it a passing comment, but the cozy room was inviting.

  “Wow, this is nice,” I said as I stepped inside.

  There was a dining table in the center of the room, and four wine glasses rested upside down on a silver platter in the middle. There was also a brown love seat and a wet bar against the far wall.

  “Does your family do many tastings in here?” I fingered the neck of one of the bottles in the rack beside me. The label was pretty.

  “No. We hardly ever use it.”

  The room wasn’t really a cellar, it was a lounge meant for entertaining. “That’s a shame. This room is amazing.”

  “No one comes down here, but you can whenever you want. It’s quiet.”

  It was quiet. It felt like Royce and I were all alone, hidden underground. My tone was grave. “I have to tell you something.”

  He stiffened, bracing for whatever was coming. “What is it?”

  “It’s about Alice and Vance. When I was coming back up the hill, I . . . saw them together.”

  Royce blinked slowly. “Together,” he repeated flatly. “Were they fucking?”

  “Uh, she was going down on him.”

  His expression didn’t change. “Sorry you had to see that.”

  “You knew?” I gasped.

  “Yeah, they’ve gotten sloppy recently about hiding it. As you can attest.”

  I turned my gaze away, staring at the rack and the bottles that lay on their sides. “I don’t understand. Alice cares so much about image, and if they were caught—”

  “Yeah.” His firm word drew my attention. “It’d be a big scandal. One that’d be much too big for my father to ignore.”

  How did he mean that? Was Alice doing it to get her husband’s attention?

  “He doesn’t know?”

  “I don’t think so, but hardly anything happens here he doesn’t know about.” He took a step in my direction, closing most of the space between us. “Whatever she had with my dad, it’s gone now. It ran its course. She still loves him, and she can’t leave him—although I don’t think she wants to, anyway.”

  Nervousness sapped all the strength from me. “Is that going to happen to us?”

  God, his eyes were intense, and it was so beautiful, it was hard to look at. He said it quietly but with conviction. “I hope not.”

  Why was it painful to admit? “I like you.”

  “I kind of figured that out already.” His half-smile was irritating.

  “Royce.” I didn’t appreciate him being cocky when I’d made myself vulnerable.

  But he slipped his arms around me and tilted his forehead until it was pressed against mine. “If you haven’t figured out yet just how much I like you, then you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

  He delivered his first kiss slow and sweet. But the second one? It smoldered. It hinted there was fire waiting for me on the other side. All I had to do was stoke it and we’d both burst into flames.

  I skimmed my hand down the front of his shirt, not stopping until I hit the bulge growing behind his zipper. In retaliation, he grasped a handful of my ass through my shorts and squeezed.

  Everything went hard. His grip on me. His dick under the stroke of my hand. His mouth moving against mine.

  And the sudden need to have it finally be our moment.

  Whatever he was thinking about, the decision had been made. He turned us, and I stumbled back into the corner between the brick wall and the side of a wine cabinet, making the bottles rattle quietly on their perches.

  Royce’s hands weren’t gentle or cautious. He clasped a palm over my breast and, dissatisfied it was covered, he jammed that hand up under my t-shirt. It took him no time to find my nipple through the cup of my bra, and his pinch left me hot and achy in more than one place.

  It distracted me from my task, but not for long. I raked my fingernails over the denim shielding his erection and enjoyed how his eyes clouded with lust.

  “We’re doing this now, huh?” His whispered question was full of seduction.

  “You said no one comes down here.”

  He stepped away, leaving me panting against the corner, but it was only so he could close the door. As he stalked back to me, his determined focus made heat pool in my body and flow to my center.

  His kiss was aggressive. Brutally passionate. Tension built in me, in both of us.

  He jerked the hem of my shirt up, and I raised my arms, helping him strip it off. As soon as it was done, I returned the favor, stretching his cotton shirt up over his head and hurling it to the floor.

  I traced the lines of his bare chest, marveling at how good he felt in my hands. There was a ring on my finger saying I was his, and tonight he was absolutely mine.

  “I want you naked,” I pleaded.

  He grinned a smile full of sex and sin,
and it announced he had every intention of giving me what I wanted. As he reached around my body and undid the hook of my bra, he murmured it in my ear. “Same, Marist.”

  It was a frenzy after that, both of us fumbling with the other’s pants, a race to see who could undress the other first. Except my hands were clumsy. I wasn’t a virgin anymore, but this was still brand new. I’d never even seen him fully naked.

  When our clothes were discarded piles around us, he yanked me away from the wall. I was walked backward, his kisses hot and greedy and distracting, and it was the bump of the hard edge of wood on the back of my thighs that announced we’d reached the table.

  My heart was beating so fast but the rest of me was slow. Desire was heavy, filling me up and weighing me down, and it was what kept me from stopping Royce as he pushed me to sit on the table.

  Anxiety turned tighter, screwing my throat closed and preventing words from coming out as his hands urged me down onto my back. He hitched one of my trembling legs over his shoulder, unaware of the panic that clawed in my chest, desperate to break free.

  The table was hard and cold, and a man hovered between my legs, preparing to put his mouth on me, and it was too much like last time. It was way too much.

  Somehow, I found my voice, and it sprang from me in a single, furious word. “No.”

  I slapped a hand on his head and shoved him away, then reared back on the table. He pulled back, stunned and confused while watching me scramble to my feet.

  He put a low hand out, in a gesture that said ‘steady.’ “What’s wrong?”

  My gaze darted from him, to the table, and back again. I crossed my arms over my stomach. “Not like that. Not on the table.”

  I’d never seen his eyes go that wide before as he realized what had caused the panic. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I—” He stared at the ground for a moment, lost in thought. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  He moved toward me cautiously, like I was a wounded and unpredictable animal. Slowly, he reached for me, gauging my reaction. I allowed him to ease a hand onto my hip. To hesitantly invade my space.

  “Tell me what you’d like. What you need.” He sounded and looked utterly serious. “Because I just want to make you feel good.”

  I eyed the loveseat before turning my full stare back on him. “I want it gone. I need the memory wiped clean.”

  His face twisted. He wanted to give it to me, but I’d asked for the impossible.

  I set my palms flat against the plane of his chest and lowered my voice to a hush. “Give me something to replace it with.”

  His expression was devastatingly determined. “I can do that.”

  Gone was the urgent, frantic dash. Now, his movements were deliberate and purposeful. The heat between us didn’t flame out, it shifted and went underground, which was the most dangerous kind. We’d burn from the inside out, the foundation up, and there was no way to put it out.

  While he kissed me, Royce’s steady hands smoothed over the lines of my body. He touched me with awe. His unhurried fingers skated sensually along my skin, lighting up nerves and setting off a cascade of sensations.

  His methodical work made me quiver.

  When he lowered himself onto the center of the loveseat, he gently grasped me by the elbows and encouraged me to climb into his lap. I put a knee on either side of his hips as he sat back with his shoulders against the cushions. We were caught in each other’s gaze when my damp center brushed against him. Just the tiniest contact, but my breath cut off. It felt exciting. And good.

  His palm was still on my elbow, but it coasted up my arm. It traveled over my shoulder, slid up my neck, and continued until his fingers wove into my hair. His head rested on the back of the couch as he stared up at me, his eyes filled with hunger.

  “I’ve never wanted anyone,” his voice was uneven, “the way I want you.”

  Oh, my God. My heart faltered then picked up again, beating at twice the speed.

  His other hand was on my waist, guiding me to move. To rock my hips against him and rub myself along the length of him. It elicited a sigh from us both, and I shuddered with pleasure. My movement adjusted my body on him, and as I went to settle back into his lap, the head of his cock was positioned right at my entrance.

  He didn’t ask my consent, but he didn’t have to. He held statue still and left the choice to me. If I didn’t want to go further, all I had to do was lift off of him. Instead, I lowered myself on him, taking him inside me at measured pace. His lips parted so he could drag in ragged breaths as I crept down, and his head tipped further back, his eyes drifting closed.

  It was still a lot, and he made me uncomfortably full, but my body seemed to adjust quicker this time. Once he was seated fully inside, I let out a tight breath. He lifted his head, opened his eyes, and simply stared at me like I was a wonderous creature.

  His hand on my waist urged me once again to rock on him. The gentle, slow stroke wrung a whimper from my lips but set him on alert.

  “How does it feel?” he asked.

  “It feels . . . good.”

  A smile hinted his expression, but I moved my hips, and he went serious again.

  As I hesitantly found my rhythm, his sensual hands resumed their work. They caressed my breasts, notching over my hardened nipples. They smoothed along my thighs. Slid up my back, tracing my spine with his fingertips.

  Royce sat there, and his heavy eyes watched me as I rode him, my body undulating, letting me find my way. But the tightness inside me kept building. The feeling of urgency twisted harder, squeezing the air from my lungs.

  I had my hands on his chest for leverage, but I lifted them and laced my fingers together behind his neck, pulling him to me. When our mouths locked together, time suspended. Nothing existed outside of this room. Nothing lived beyond the two of us, our bodies connected as one.

  I writhed on him until sweat dampened our temples and moans drifted from our lips. I held his head in my arms, crushing him to my breasts, relishing the way he teased me with his mouth and teeth. His hands on my ass pushed and pulled, lifting me to keep up the urgent tempo we were both desperate for.

  When my leg muscles began to fatigue, he must have sensed it.

  “Lean back,” he encouraged. His arm looped behind me. “I’ve got you.”

  I did as he asked, arching my back and setting my hands behind me on his knees. It made enough space so he could push a hand between our bodies and touch my clit.

  “Oh, my God,” I groaned, pleasure nearly overwhelming me.

  I threw my head back, and beneath me, he took over. His deep thrusts shook my body all the way down to my foundation. And that fucking hand of his. It just kept stirring and moving and pleasing. I was a quivering mess as my orgasm approached.

  He grunted and strained as he chased his breath, but he didn’t stop driving. Not even when a loud gasp burst from my mouth and I came. Heat, coupled with deep satisfaction, poured down through me, wave after wave, seemingly endless. I’d only started to come down from my orgasm when his started.

  He clamped his strong arms around my shuddering body and buried his face in my chest while a series of pleasure-soaked moans fell from his lips. He gasped one after another against my naked flesh.

  Like a coin in a spiral funnel, time restarted slowly. It looped one tediously long second and sped gradually with each pass, spinning faster as it closed in on the center. Round and round it went until it was a flashing blur of movement, and then . . . time snapped back to normal as it dropped into the well below.

  Royce softened his hold on me, just enough to peer up into my eyes. “That should have been our first time.”

  I dropped a kiss on his lips. “It was.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Royce and I spent awhile kissing on the loveseat, but eventually my legs protested how I was straddling him, and I climbed off. We dressed, and when he fished his shirt off the floor, I took it and tossed it across the room.

  “You look good naked,” I said. “I think I
like you better that way.”

  He chuckled as he went after it. “I also prefer you naked. Maybe don’t bring any clothes when you move in.”

  My smile drained. “I have to tell you something else.”

  He had his head halfway through the neck hole of his t-shirt, and his movements slowed as he pulled it on.

  “When I danced with your father, he said some stuff.”

  “About me.” It was a statement, not a question from Royce.

  “Yeah.”

  A tight smile pinched on his face. “Don’t trust anything that comes out of his mouth, but just for fun, what’d he say?”

  “He basically told me not to trust anything that comes out of your mouth.”

  This time his smile was more of a smirk. As I looked down at my engagement ring, my shoulders slumped.

  He picked up on my unease. “What is it?”

  My stomach was full of acid and a sour taste filled my mouth as I worked up the courage. “He said he owns me, and eventually he’ll have me.”

  Royce solidified. He locked down his doors and shuttered the windows, going immobile.

  Had I just flipped some sort of fail-safe switch and deactivated him?

  Finally, he blinked. He put his hands in his pockets and stared vacantly at the glasses on the table. “He’s fucking with you. Or maybe he was just testing to see how you’d react.”

  I frowned.

  It was hard to believe that was all it was. The look in Macalister’s eyes that night had been incredibly real. But perhaps he was a fantastic actor like his son. Plus, Royce knew his father better than I did. Shouldn’t I trust him?

  “Okay.” I still wasn’t convinced but wasn’t sure what else to say. “I thought you should know.”

  “I appreciate it.” He glanced at the door and put a hand on the back of his neck, massaging it. “Do you want to finish the tour? We got kind of . . . sidetracked.”

  His easy smile chased away the unpleasant memory.

  We were almost at the top of the stairs when Royce hooked a finger in the belt loop of my shorts and jerked me to a sudden stop.