by Tessa Bailey
I sighed and nodded, relieved to see her spunk back in full force. I followed her into the bathroom off the side of my bedroom.
If she had any hesitation about changing in front of me, she didn’t show it, stripping down and climbing in as the water began to steam. I didn’t ask if I could join her and quickly slid my briefs off before stepping into the shower behind her.
Valentina looked my way, her eyes flicking down to my arousal. Because, yeah, I couldn’t be around her naked and not get aroused. When her eyes swung to mine, she was smiling.
“Ignore it.”
“What if I don’t want to?” she parried, her eyes darkening.
“Valentina,” I warned.
She put a palm on my chest, pressing me against the tile wall. With steam cloaking us, water rolling over her curves, and her tight nipples pressing against me, I didn’t know if I had the willpower to stop her.
“Darlin’, I want to get this right, and a quickie in the shower wasn’t what I had in mind,” I managed to choke out.
“A quickie in the shower is exactly right. I’ve never had one.”
After that, I was a goner. When she leaned up to kiss me, I dived into the warm sweetness of her mouth as my hands slid over her slick wet curves.
Moments later when I was buried inside her with her back against the tile and her legs wrapped around my waist, her tight pussy nearly sent me over the edge instantly. I held still, feeling the silky clench of her channel rippling around me.
“Look at me,” I murmured.
Her eyes fluttered open, the blue bright against her freckled cheeks. “What?”
“I love you.” Saying a mere three words had my heart pounding so hard it almost hurt.
She held my gaze quietly. She lifted her hand, her finger tracing around my mouth. “That’s a good thing,” she said softly, “because I love you too. I might not be an expert, but I do know what love is.”
My forehead fell to hers as I tried to breathe through the emotion racing through me. “I didn’t expect you to tell me the same. Are you …?”
Valentina shook her head slightly. “You know me. I say whatever’s on my mind, and I definitely mean it.”
Swallowing, I lifted my head slightly to press a quick kiss to her lips. I had no more words.
“Sometimes I say too much,” she added.
I laughed a little, recalling that fateful afternoon on her porch when I heard all about why she ordered a pink vibrator.
No more words were necessary. The water sluiced over us. I held her tight and rocked into her until I felt her tighten, and she cried my name. Only then did I let go, my release slamming through me so hard it was a good thing I had my hand on the wall to hold me up.
After that, we used the shower for its original intention. We dressed, and she made me breakfast. I discovered she could make amazing waffles. Rylie was due home soon, and I was toying with what I was going to say. I looked over at her, and asked, “How do you want us to handle this with Rylie?”
Valentina was refilling our coffees and turned back, two mugs held in her hands. Her gaze was sober, and she was quiet as she returned to the table. “Slowly. One step at a time.”
Much as I wanted to rush, her answer was exactly what I needed to hear. I would’ve rushed, but that was why my heart knew Valentina was perfect.
Epilogue
Valentina
A year or so later
I was folding laundry. If I was ever bored, laundry was forever there for me. Lots of it. Between Rylie and Lucas, it was endless. I closed Rylie’s dresser and carried the laundry basket into the bedroom I shared with Lucas. A hint of bright pink winked at me when I opened our shared underwear drawer.
That vibrator was a favorite one for us. Grinning, I put away Lucas’s boxers and my panties. Just as I closed the drawer to our dresser, I heard the front door open and close. Puzzled, I walked down the hallway, only to stop in my tracks when I saw Lucas.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my heart stumbling and tripping a little.
It didn’t matter I’d only seen him a few hours earlier because every damn time I saw him my pulse took off and butterflies twirled in my belly.
His gaze swept over me, making my skin prickle all over. “The group I was supposed to take on a hike today cancelled. I thought I’d come home for lunch.”
Somehow, I sensed his idea of lunch had nothing to do with food. Cocking my head to the side, I asked, “And what do you want for lunch?”
His lashes brushed against his cheeks as he closed his eyes. When he opened them again slowly, the look contained there stole my breath. “You.”
There went the rest of my day. Or at least the next hour.
Sometime later, Lucas was propped up against the headboard while I trailed my fingertips over his chest, marveling at the hard, muscled planes. My eyes flicked to the clock across the nightstand behind his shoulder. “We have to get dressed,” I murmured.
“Do we now?” he asked in reply. He caught one of my curls between two fingers and pulled it out, letting it bounce against my cheek.
“Rylie gets off the bus in a half hour.”
I lifted my head. His teasing expression was suddenly gone. He’d already left me boneless and sated, but the intensity in his eyes now set my heart pounding all over again. “What?”
The sound of his swallow was audible in the quiet. His chest pressed against my breasts when he took a deep breath, and his hand tightened slightly in my hair and loosened before he spoke. “I’ve been thinking.” There was a long pause, and I started to get nervous. “Things with us feel good, really good. I keep telling myself nothing is perfect, nothing is forever, but I don’t care. I meant to make it an event, but now just seems like the time. Because I can’t imagine life without you.”
Blood rushed through my ears at the ragged, hopeful beat of my heart. I could hardly catch my breath. Emotion clenched in my chest, tightening in my throat. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I want you to marry me.” His words came out husky, a hint of uncertainty contained in them.
“Are you sure?”
Lucas was a man who held his emotions so close that it was hard to imagine he had tears in his eyes. But I was pretty sure that was what I saw. “Of course I’m sure.”
I rose, straddling his hips. “Yes! One hundred percent yes.”
“Oh, thank God,” he murmured as he pulled me close, his forehead leaning against mine. “For a second there, I thought you were gonna tell me no.”
I pressed my lips to his, pulling away just far enough to speak. “There was never any doubt.” Pausing, I dragged my fingertip along his stubbled jawline. “My parents will be thrilled, you know. They try not to badger me, but I know we’re probably the source of extra prayers since we’ve been living in sin.”
Lucas chuckled. “Your father has mentioned it more than once, but that’s not why I’m asking.”
“I know, but you do have Rylie and plenty of reasons for waiting.”
“I want you. This. Us,” he said firmly. “The next part is telling Rylie. She’s been asking me for a while.”
I was stunned. I loved Rylie. She was getting to be a bit of a handful because she was a spirited girl. I felt so blessed to be able to share this time with her, yet I had tried so, so hard not to make any presumptions about what Lucas and I had.
“Really?”
He nodded, one of his slow smiles unfurling and making my belly clench. “Of course. You’re her mother in every way that counts. Melissa will always be the mother she had first, but Rylie doesn’t remember her.” Lifting a hand, he slid his fingers through my curls, the heat and love in his eyes almost undoing me. Seeing as we were still naked in bed, my body had its own thoughts as I felt his cock swell slightly under me.
“We have to get dressed,” I said firmly, scrambling off his lap.
His low chuckle followed me into the shower where we might have wasted a little more time.
* * *
Another six months later
Opening the front door, my eyes veered toward the kitchen. Valentina’s dark red curls were up in a messy ponytail, and Rylie’s hair was falling loose from its braid.
Valentina stood at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables. Rylie was standing on a wide stepstool beside her, one I had built for her to be able to help in the kitchen. Valentina was getting dinner ready while Rylie was working beside her on the cookies for dessert.
My heart clenched. I loved coming home to them every night.
They appeared to hear me at the same time. Valentina set her knife down and glanced over her shoulder, calling, “Hey, you’re home a little early.”
She stepped to the sink to rinse her hands. Meanwhile, Rylie clambered down, not bothering to wash her hands, and ran across the room to fling her arms around my waist. She added a few handprints of flour to my dusty jeans.
“Hey there,” I murmured as I pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“Hey, Daddy,” she said, spinning immediately around and hurrying back to her cookies.
Valentina approached as I let my bag fall to the floor. Stopping in front of me, she lifted her hand, brushing her thumb across my cheek. “You have dirt on your face,” she observed with a slight smile.
“And you have flour on yours,” I countered, brushing my knuckles across the powdery white streak along her jaw.
I pulled her close, dusting kisses at the corners of her mouth. “Remind me I get to come home to this every night,” I murmured softly.
“Consider yourself reminded. Always.”
Having loved and lost once, “always” had a different connotation for me. But I would take every single second I had with Valentina.
* * *
Thank you for reading Wait For Me! I hope you loved Lucas & Valentina’s story!
Up next in the Swoon Series is Evie & Dawson’s story in Break My Fall.
Royal Hottie
Kylie Gilmore
Chapter One
Phillip
“Prince Phillip leaves parting gift of a royal jewel after his one-night stands.” Ha! Reading the latest headline out loud makes it sound even more ridiculous. Sorry, ladies, my royal jewels are the gift.
I’m Prince Phillip Rourke, twenty-nine years old, and second in line to the throne. I have an online following as “the royal hottie” and way, way too many pictures of me rutting my way through Europe with glamorous women. If you read my press, you’ll learn my thick dark brown hair is always sexily rumpled, my aquamarine eyes are stunning, and my high cheekbones and strong jaw are classically handsome. Throw in my warm, naturally charming personality and it’s easy to see why I’m never lacking for female companionship. Women love me, and I love them right back. Briefly.
I take a sip of scotch, thinking about jetting over to Norway to meet up with Ingrid, a supermodel with as much discretion as skills with her tongue, when my phone rings. I check the screen. Anna, my sister-in-law, the queen of Villroy as of yesterday when she married my older brother, Gabriel, the king. Sadly, my father, the previous king, passed away six weeks before their wedding. He went peacefully in his sleep after a long painful battle with cancer. Anna was the bright spot in his life, and he grew to love her just like the rest of us.
I tap the phone, setting it on speaker on the end table before settling back into my leather club chair in my palace suite. “Anna, I can’t believe you’re calling me when you’re supposed to be on your honeymoon.”
She was very enthusiastic about seeing Paris for the first time. Despite living here on Villroy Island for the last three months, right off the coast of southwestern France, she never ventured out for a little sightseeing. She’s an American, brash and bold and fun, the near opposite of my brother, a stoic throwback to our Viking ancestors. Fun would have to bite him on the ass, which I guess Anna did. Ha!
Anna’s voice carries through the speaker, warm and happy. “We’re in the limo on the way to our hotel, and I realized I forgot to tell you something about the guests arriving next week.” She’s renovated a section of the palace to be used for “the royal experience,” either a ladies’ week or a honeymoon. It’s step one in her plan to bring new jobs and funds to Villroy. This is the first visit, a ladies’ week involving all kinds of girly beauty stuff since she’s a beautician. Eventually, she plans to build a day spa—away from the palace—featuring beauty products using native ingredients. It’s a brilliant idea that will probably save our dying fishing economy.
“What’s that?” I ask, already smiling in anticipation. She probably wants me to add something wildly inappropriate to the suite, like edible bikini underwear. Hmm, some mingling with the lady guests might be in order.
“My dearest clients are super excited for their visit, not just because I’m going to do their hair again. They’ve missed me at the salon, you know.” Her first guests are her wealthiest salon clients from the US.
“Mmm-hmmm.” I take a sip of scotch. “You’re hard to replace. One of a kind.”
“Why, thank you, Phillip. What a sweetheart you are.” There’s a muffled sound and the gruff growl of my brother Gabriel’s voice. He’s possessive of his new wife. She gets back to me a long moment later, sounding a little breathless. “What was I saying?”
“You forgot to tell me something about your guests?”
“Oh, yes, and I’m sorry to spring this on you last minute, but I was so busy preparing for my wedding, learning the royal protocol, and supervising the contractors for the guest suite…you know, it still needs a little something. I’ve got that taken care of as of this morning, so I think we’re good to go, but there’s always something when you’re renovating, especially for a place as old as Amalie Palace. What do you think about renaming it to something like Rourke Palace? It would make more sense at this point since the Rourke family has ruled for centuries, and the French who named it Amalie were from so long ago. I’ve learned quite a lot of your history—”
“Just tell me.” She’s usually very direct. The babbling means she’s stalling.
“Don’t be mad, okay?”
I shift in my seat, suddenly uneasy. “What is it?”
“I promised our guests a bachelor auction to win a date with a prince and, well, you are the royal hottie. That makes you the prime draw. The bidding is going to go sky-high—these chicks are loaded—and we’ll funnel the money into phase two, the spa.”
I jackknife upright. Knowing Anna, she’s going to style my brothers and me in some ridiculous stripper outfits. A real possibility! I put nothing past her. A terrifying vision of a horde of man-hungry women descending on me as I parade around on stage in a shiny silver and blue G-string flashes through my mind. The official royal colors, naturally. And then I’ll have to go to the highest bidder. No choice in the matter, and I am a choosy man. I expect a certain caliber of sophistication in the women I associate with, not just any woman with a handful of cash. Suddenly, I have an inkling of what Gabriel went through with the barbaric bridal competition my parents set up to find him his bride. A twisted amusing story to those of us not tangled up in it. I laughed at him then. I’m not laughing now.
She continues cheerfully. “So you see, it’s all for a good cause.”
“Whatever you hoped to make from the bachelor auction, I’ll donate to the cause. No, I’ll double it.” The fact is, the island’s economy is one generation away from collapse. The younger generation is leaving in droves, abandoning the dying fishing industry for better opportunities. Our family is well off, mostly in jewels and some well-placed investments, but our money wouldn’t be enough to sustain the entire country. I don’t mind giving the new venture a boost to start, and so should the rest of the family. Eventually, though, Villroy’s economy needs to get there on its own power.
“Actually, it’s not the money that’s the main purpose of the auction, though, of course, your donation is greatly appreciated. I want my clients invested in their royal experien
ce, knowing the money is going to the day spa, so they’ll return when it opens and spread the word about how awesome it is. These women are all very successful in their fields and well connected.”
She’s really quite savvy and, under any other circumstances, I might appreciate that. Not this time. And what exactly would this date with the highest bidder entail? Some kind of cringe-worthy romantic fantasy? I immediately picture the obligatory stroll on the beach, holding hands, followed by a candlelight dinner, where I’m forced to feign interest in a woman not of my choosing. She’ll be giggly over being with the royal hottie or, worse, aggressively trying to get in my bed just for the bragging rights. Not that I would sleep with a woman like that. In the end, I’d come out looking like the bad guy, being labeled as aloof or some such nonsense for having zero interest in my date. And these ladies are here for an entire week. One date may not be the end of it. There could be follow-up lovey-dovey crap.
I scrub a hand over my face. “So we’re to be the entertainment portion of the ladies’ week.”
“Think of it as using your celebrity for a good cause.”
She’s got me there because I do use my celebrity for good causes. I’m heavily involved with clean water efforts for impoverished countries. No. This is different. This is a prince as entertainment. It’s beneath me and my title.
“Anna, I’m sorry, but—”
“It will all be very discreet. Only our guests would be there. Please, Phillip, everyone loves the royal hottie. You’re famous in America, which makes you the headliner.”
I remain firm. “I’m sure when you tell my brothers, they’ll be up for it, so you won’t even need me.” My younger brothers are always up for a good time and don’t trouble themselves with princely dignities since they’re so far from the throne. “By the way, did you have your guests sign a nondisclosure?”
“Err, no. I keep forgetting that. I’ll have them sign one when they arrive. It’s possible they told their friends, but don’t worry. No one else will be admitted to the palace. This auction is invitation only. Oh, and your brothers already know.”