“I love this mole on your hip,” he tells me.
I laugh. “Why?”
He shrugs and laughs with me. “I don’t know. When I was sitting in that motel thinking my life was over, I was imagining you and all I wanted to do was kiss this mole.”
“You’re a weirdo,” I laugh, running my fingers through his hair. I smile and he dips his head back toward my hip, kissing my mole one more time.
The frantic energy between us slows down and our touch becomes tender. It’s like we’re learning each other’s bodies for the first time all over again, running our hands over each other’s bodies and trailing kisses behind them. His lips taste sweeter than I remember, and his body feels stronger and smoother than before.
When he enters me, I feel complete. He fills me up until my back arches and my lips fall open. He dips his head and bites my bottom lip as he pushes himself into me. Pain and pleasure mix as I cry out and let myself be carried away by bliss.
Our bodies dissolve into each other and we become one. We move together, moan together, kiss together, touch together, until I don’t know where he ends and I begin. Our hearts beat as one.
When he comes, I come, and when I come, he comes. Our climax is like I’ve never felt before. Both bodies contract and arch and moan together and I feel his orgasm as viscerally as I feel my own. He’s mine, and I’m his.
It’s not until our heartbeats return to normal and my head is resting on his chest and I take a deep breath and feel like myself again. I run my fingers over and back across his chest as he strokes my hair.
“I love you,” I whisper. My heart is beating in my chest and I feel the love of our child in my stomach. I open my mouth to tell him but nothing comes out. He wraps his arm around me and squeezes me closer.
“Let’s have a baby,” he whispers. I lift my head and look up at him, frowning slightly.
“What?”
“Let’s have a baby. I know it’s early, and I know we just got away from my family, but Sam, you’re the one for me. I want to be with you forever and I want to have a child with you. I don’t see the point in waiting. If you want to, obviously. I can wait.” He bites his lip. “I don’t know why I said that. Fuck, you probably think I’m a weirdo,” he laughs. “I’m sorry. I just love you so fucking much.”
I laugh. “Well yes, I do think you’re a weirdo. But that’s beside the point.” We stare at each other for a few moments and I take a deep breath.
“What if I told you we are going to have a baby?”
He smiles. “I don’t mean eventually, Sam. I mean let’s have one soon. Let’s have one now. Get off the pill and let’s start trying.”
I shake my head. “I don’t mean eventually either.” He frowns slightly and I smile gently. I have to whisper the words that have been on my mind ever since Jess and I went to the doctor.
“I’m pregnant, Dean.”
His jaw drops open and his eyes widen. Suddenly a smile breaks out across his face and he starts laughing.
“What! No. Really?” I nod and he laughs again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want your parents to use it against you or me, and then I was afraid you’d freak out.” I smile. “So you’re happy?”
“Happy? I’m fucking ecstatic! Sam! We’re going to be parents! I’m going to be a dad!”
I laugh as he wraps his arms around me and turns me onto my back. He dips his lips toward mine and kisses me so tenderly that I can feel the love radiating between us.
He pulls back and stares into my eyes, smiling as he runs his hand over my stomach. I smile and put my hand over his. I still can’t quite believe that we’re here, together. I still can’t quite believe that I’m this lucky. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him one more time. He nuzzles my nose with his and I laugh.
He’s mine, and I’m his. This is what happiness feels like.
Epilogue
Samantha
My hands are shaking as I tear open the envelope. I pull out the letter and scan my eyes over it before letting out a sigh and smiling at Dean.
“I’m officially divorced.”
He smiles triumphantly and wraps his arms around me. “Good. I can make an honest woman out of you now.”
“Not so fast,” I laugh. “I’m not going to jump into another marriage without some serious thought.”
“I can wait,” he says, running his fingers over my growing belly. He kisses me gently and then pulls away and claps his hands together. “We should celebrate!”
I nod and he grabs a couple glasses. “Sparkling apple juice for you, wine for me,” he says with a grin. I clink my glass against his and take a sip before tilting my head to the side.
“How did you get Ronnie to agree to the new terms? What did you say to him? He gave me everything in the settlement, way more than half.”
Dean glances toward me and smiles sadly. When it came time to file the divorce papers for real, Dean called Ronnie’s lawyer. During the final meeting he took Ronnie aside and got a whole new set of papers drawn up. I don’t know what they said to each other, but I do know that Ronnie came back like a dog with a tail between his legs.
Dean takes another sip of wine and shrugs.
“I told him that my mother wouldn’t protect him anymore. She obviously told him to get lost. He believed me.”
“I still can’t believe he was working for her,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s like a bad dream. The whole thing. From the moment I found out he wasn’t being faithful to the final signature on those papers. Just a bad dream.”
“But now,” Dean says, running his fingers down my cheek and back toward my hair. “Now it’s like winning the lottery.”
I smile and tilt my head up toward him. He kisses me and I can taste the wine on his lips. I stare into his eyes and feel nothing but love and happiness overflowing in my heart. I run a hand over my stomach and look down at it before taking another sip of sparkling apple juice.
“I don’t know how I got so lucky,” I breathe. He kisses me softly until his phone rings to interrupt us. He looks down at the screen and makes a noise.
“Hey Pat, how did it go? Uh huh, great! That’s great! Okay. Yep, talk to you later.” He ends the call and looks at me, eyes shining.
“The kids loved the clown school. Apparently, Margaret asked him if he could do it once a week. Pat was over the moon. He’s been wanting to have a partnership like this ever since I met him.”
I grin and wrap my arms around Dean.
“Thank you for making it work,” I say. “I couldn’t have convinced Margaret to give it a chance without your help. It’ll be such a good addition to the program.”
Dean shrugs. He looks at me curiously and then opens his mouth and then closes it again before speaking.
“I was thinking,” he says slowly. “Since my family gave me access to the trust fund again, I have all this money. We’ve really struck a chord with the kids. What if we expanded the organization? We could try to get some federal funding and put some real money into the programs and get multiple locations in the city. We could get Pat and Margaret involved and make something real out of this. Have regular clown school classes in addition to all the programs you have already.”
My eyes widen and I stare at Dean. “You mean you’d stop the investment banking?”
Dean nods. “Go full-time clown,” he says with a grin. “There’s so much potential to do good things here. Those kids love you, they love Margaret, and they love the clown classes. There are thousands more kids that could benefit from it. We could do it, Sam. We could make something great out of this.”
I throw my arms around Dean and laugh as he swings me around. If my heart felt full before, it feels like it’s absolutely about to burst. I stare at his face and shake my head.
“You never stop surprising me,” I say in amazement.
Dean shrugs and turns toward the counter. When he turns back around, he’s got a big red nose on. He jumps up and spreads his palm
s wide with a big smile on his face and I can’t help but laugh.
“Full-time clown,” he says with a laugh. “Get used to it.”
“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” I reply as I wrap my arms around him again. I give his big red nose a squeeze before pressing my lips to his and once again tasting the sweetness of his kiss.
Click here to get your bonus chapters.
(https://www.lilianmonroe.com/subscribe)
If you’re already signed up, you can follow the link in your welcome email to access the bonus content from all my books.
xox Lilian
Royally Unexpected
Book 1: Bad Prince
An Accidental Pregnancy Romance
1
Elle
The rhythmic squeaking of my housemate’s bedsprings gets louder as the sound of her first moan floats through the wall. I stuff my earplugs in deeper, hoping they’ll help block out the noise—even though I already know they won’t. Dahlia’s headboard taps against our shared wall. It starts gently, barely grazing the thin separation between our bedrooms.
And then it gets louder, and louder, and louder…
… until the wall actually shakes.
Another moan sounds out and a man says something barely audible. I assume it’s something filthy. Dahlia, my best and weirdest friend, likes it dirty.
Why do I know this?
Because I hear everything in this rundown, mouse-infested house of ours.
Everything.
Groaning, I turn to my side, stuffing my pillow over my head to try to muffle the noise. I check the time on my phone. It’s already past midnight, and I have to be up in four hours for crew practice. I’m going to be out on the water, rowing my little heart out as I train for the biggest regatta of my life, with less than four hours’ sleep.
Sunday is—or rather, was— my day off, as usual, and Monday practices are notoriously tough after a rest day. Coach Bernard doesn’t tolerate lateness, sleepiness, or excuses like my roommate is a sex maniac.
The banging on the wall continues, and my blood pressure rises. Every knock on the wall cranks my nerves tighter.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Moan.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Moan.
Dahlia goes to Farcliff University, too, but she’s far from athletic—well, not in the traditional sense of the word. She runs her own athletics department from the comfort of her own bed.
No, Dahlia doesn’t need to wake up at four o’clock in the morning, or practice twice a day, six days a week. She doesn’t need to manage her protein intake down to the gram, or make sure her performance is stellar every single day just to keep her scholarship.
Unlike me, Dahlia can have manic, crazy sex every night of the week until the sun comes up…
… and she does.
When her voice goes up a couple octaves and a scream finally pierces the partition, I’ve had enough. My frustration boils over and I clamber onto my knees on the bed, banging my fist against the paper-thin wall so hard my knuckles bruise.
“Come on, you idiot! Make her come already!”
The squeaking stops. The moans pause.
Silence.
Then, the bead creaks once more as their weight shifts, and peals of laughter sound through the wall. I slump back down on my own bed, exhaling as I rub my hands over my face.
If Dahlia wasn’t the friendliest person I’d ever met—and if I could afford to live somewhere other than this rodent-plagued sex den—I’d definitely move out.
Unfortunately, though, I’m stuck here.
They move to the floor, thankfully. The floorboards aren’t nearly as noisy as the bed.
Bleary-eyed and grumpy, I somehow make it to practice on time. In the locker room, I pull on my thermal, skin-hugging workout tights. My sports bra has so many straps and support mechanisms that it looks like it was designed by NASA for a trip to outer space.
I strap the bra on and adjust it, locking the girls down nice and securely. When I pull on my workout top and lean over to shove my bag in my locker, I feel the chill of the air over my lower back. Clothes never fit properly over my tall, athletic body, but I’m used to it by now.
I used to hate my height when I was a kid. As a teenager, I’d see all the boys going gaga over petite, delicate little waifs—and I felt like an ogre in comparison. Then I grew these massive knockers and I hated them, too, because all the boys went gaga over my boobs and forgot that there was a person attached to them.
I’ve always been taller, broader, and stronger than most men. My size isn’t great for my love life, if I’m honest—I get friend zoned more often than I’d like to admit.
But my height means I can row. When I’m rowing, my breasts can be strapped down and kept out of the way. My rowing scholarship allows me to attend Farcliff University, where I’ll hopefully make something of myself—and I wouldn’t trade that opportunity for anything. With just over a year left until I graduate, I can honestly say that rowing has been my ticket out of a shitty, dead-end Grimdale life.
Would I like a gaggle of boyfriends to follow me around like a parade of little ducklings? Sure—why not? But am I going to stop rowing to get them?
Hell no.
Someone opens the locker room door and a blast of cold air whips through the room. I shiver, but I know as soon as I get out onto the water and start rowing, I’ll be warm.
Then, a nasally, pretentious voice pierces my ears. My lips turn downward.
“Did you get your invitation yet?” Olivia Brundle’s falsetto voice makes my stomach turn. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to deal with her this early in the morning—at least not until after I’d been on the water.
“Got it last night,” Olivia’s clone, Marielle Davenport, replies. “What are you going to wear?”
“Well, Charlie likes it when I wear something that shows off my legs,” Olivia says. She comes into view around the corner, flicking her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “So I’ll probably wear something short, or at least something with a thigh-high slit.” She titters, checking her nails.
Charlie.
Even at four o’clock in the goddamn morning, Olivia is name-dropping the Crown Prince of Farcliff. She talks about him as if they’re engaged already, even though Dahlia told me Olivia has only met him once before at a state event four years ago. Olivia’s father is the Prime Minister of Brundle, our neighbors to the south, so not only is she supremely annoying, but she’s also been told that she’s important since the day she was born.
Wonderful.
I tie my shoelaces loosely, knowing I’ll take them off as soon as my boat is in the water. I stand up, and Olivia steps into my path.
“Did you get your invitation to the Prince’s Ball, Elle?” She arches her perfectly groomed eyebrow and taps the side of her face with a manicured finger.
I don’t answer.
“Is that a no?” Olivia glances at Marielle, grinning, before turning back to me. “Oh, right, you’re just here as a charity case.” She laughs, and Marielle follows suit.
I try to step around Olivia, but she moves with me. Her expensive perfume wafts toward me as she blocks my path. She’s infuriating—right down to her long hair, curled into perfect, beachy waves that fall all the way down to her waist.
Seriously, who has time to curl their hair this early in the morning? I can just about manage to run a comb through my hair, and it’s so short it barely gets tangled to begin with.
As I take another step to the side, Olivia mirrors my movements again to stop me.
“What, cat got your tongue?”
“I just want to practice, Olivia. You already know I haven’t gotten an invite to that stupid party.”
Marielle snorts. Her beachy blonde waves are already tied back in a high ponytail. The look she gives me is just as withering as Olivia’s. “Stupid party? Elle, this isn’t a ‘stupid party’. This is where Prince Charlie chooses a wife.”
I bite back my laughter,
looking between the two of them. Everyone talks about the Prince’s twenty-fifth birthday ball as if it’s some magical, mystical, marriage-inducing event.
It’s a freaking party—and a pretentious one at that.
Marielle and Olivia blink, staring at me.
“Wait, what? Are you being serious?” I scoff. “He chooses a wife at this ball? Is this the Middle Ages? It’s his birthday party.”
They roll their eyes in unison, like two creepy plastic dolls.
“Fucking peasants,” Olivia says, finally brushing past me. She takes care not to let any part of her body touch any part of mine, as if I’m some diseased leper.
“Pathetic. Of course she wouldn’t understand, Ollie, she’s from Grimdale.” Marielle turns her big blue eyes to me. “Things are done differently in Farcliff, Elle. We actually have this thing called class. You should look it up.”
She saunters past me without another look.
Rage.
My blood boils. My face turns beet red. Every stupid day of every stupid week, I’m made to feel like less. Less womanly. Less intelligent. Less worthy. Just… less.
Grimdale is only half an hour’s drive away, but I might as well be from another planet for the way I’m treated here. It’s not just Olivia and Marielle, either. All my teammates never waste an opportunity to make me feel like I don’t belong here—like working my ass off for this stupid scholarship was a waste of time, because I’ll never be accepted into this world no matter how hard I try.
I stomp out of the locker room and down to the warm-up area, even though my body is already burning hot. Olivia and Marielle will take their time to change their clothes and re-apply their makeup.
Unexpected (Complete Accidental Pregnancy Box Set) Page 66