My phone flashes, and as I tear the car around the turns in the almost deserted streets, I take in the flashing display. The map shows a helpful green line…from me to Stella.
I push the car even harder, roaring through the streets.
I only feel like this in surgery. Like the world is in my hands, and I’m going to remake it. There is literally nothing I can’t do.
I am going to punish this fucker.
One eye on the phone screen and one on the road, I push the car. I am now within the road block, and the streets are empty. My phone crackles.
“You there, doc?”
I smile. “I never thought I’d hear that voice again. Didn’t you become a mercenary?”
“Not on a public channel, anyway. I’m in sniping position. The old lady’s doing fine, by the way.”
This old war dog is a softie little momma’s boy, not that he would let his buddies know that. They guy cried like a child when I came out of surgery and told him his mom would be fine.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“I’m above the police road block. I can see you on the scope. You’re almost behind him. Take the next right.”
“On it.” I swerve the car as my GPS pings.
“I can’t fire. There’s no clear shot. He’s driving like a wild man. I might hit her.”
“You can see her? Is she okay?” I hear the edge in my own voice.
Terror. Heard it so many times in the hospital. Never understood it.
Until now.
“She seems fine. Even if I can get a clear shot at him, he might spin the car. Catch up to them. Squeeze him in. The road block is right in front of you.”
“I see it.”
I do. I can see the whirling red and blue out ahead. Not far in front of me is the car.
Hot little sports car, very fast, but it doesn’t have the power to compete with my car, which I prove by slamming my foot down again, the car growling as the nose comes up level with the bumper.
“Can you hear me, chief?” I stab the phone, switching channels.
“I hear you, doc.”
“He’s not slowing down.”
“I can see that. We aren’t going anywhere, doc. We have heavy vehicles and spikes down. He’s fucked.”
“But what if—”
Just then, the psycho floors it, pointing the nose of his shitty little car to the left. I swerve, trying to get my own car under control, but she’s somewhat heavier than psycho kidnapper’s piece of crap.
Just as I start to even out, the fucker pulls his car the opposite direction. I hear the hum of the sissy little engine as he floors it. Shit!
The piece of shit little car goes straight over the spikes and swerves madly around the road block. I follow, recklessly pushing the car and hitting a few spikes as I follow him around the road block.
The bridge! Fuck!
He loses control of the car, and I can see him fighting against it as I do the same. I put my foot down as the motherfucker comes out of serious spin and floors it.
Right at the bridge rail.
Stella must be screaming. All I can discern of her through the window of the car is a flash of frightened eyes and a sweep of gold hair.
But then her voice rings out across the night, and I feel an utter calm slide over me as I feel the wheel slip between my fingers and as I, with complete satisfaction, slam my foot to the floor.
Understanding causality, cause, and effect, as well as an ability to follow events through to a natural conclusion make me an excellent surgeon. These intellectual skills also tell me that I am going to hit that shitty little sports car right on the driver’s side.
He can’t see it—he can’t even see the fucking rail he’s about to drive over. My engine roars as I bear down on them. I see his eyes whip towards me as he suddenly realizes his predicament.
I watch as my beast absolutely wrecks the fuck out of the other car. The impact is hell, but I’m braced for it, foot down, hands gripping the wheel. I keep shoving until my car finally revs out and clunks, smoke pouring from under the hood.
I push out my mangled door and run around the other car. I grabbing the twisted metal on the passenger’s side and tear it open with all my strength.
All this, and now, I’m afraid to look.
“Michael!” she gasps.
Then her arms are around my neck, the sweet skin of her neck against my lips, her hair flowing all around me.
“Stella.” It comes out like a prayer.
Then my arms around her, cradling her, stroking her.
“I thought I would never see you again!” she sobs into my neck. I push her back, look into her eyes, wipe a tear with my thumb.
“Baby, I’m always gonna come for you. I’m never gonna leave you alone ever again.”
Tearful, fierce Stella touches my face. “I love you, Michael. I really fucking do, you know that?”
The sirens and the lights draw near. All the good fellas of the city are here to clean up the mess. I’m looking into her eyes, and I know it’s true.
A massive smile breaks over my face. I have never felt so free.
“Stella… I love you, too.”
She sinks in to me, and I wrap my arms around her, breathing in her scent. “And I always will.”
20
Stella
We come to a stop outside of the hotel. It’s the nicest Michael could find on such short notice—complimentary robes but no slippers.
Admittedly, I was a little worried about it, but it looks great from where I’m sitting.
Which, of course, is as close to Michael as I can possibly get.
I haven’t been able to stop touching him since he saved me.
I might never be able to stop touching him again.
He saved me.
I’m already trying to figure out ways that I can be near him for the rest of our lives. Maybe I’ll just become a doctor. No, scratch that, a surgeon. That way I can be with him even when he’s operating.
Michael moves to get out of the car, and I realize for the first time that I’ve been holding onto him a bit too hard. My nails have left imprints in his arm.
I love him even more for not saying anything about it.
I reach for my door handle, and he shoots me one of his serious looks.
“Don’t move.” he says, getting out and shutting his door behind him.
In a flash, he’s on my side of the car, opening the door and smiling down at me.
“You’ve done enough for one day,” he says.
“Me? You saved me!” I reply as he scoops me into his arms.
“It was nothing.”
“Michael,” I use my most serious voice, driving him to look me fully in my eyes, “you fucking saved me. It was not nothing.”
I swear I can almost see him blush.
Almost.
He carries me through the massive doors to the hotel, careful not to bump my head. I feel like a princess. Not that I’d tell him that.
He certainly doesn’t need any more reasons to call me princess.
I nuzzle my head into the crook of his neck, for the moment just content to be held by him.
The clerk at the counter probably thinks we’re newlyweds.
Is that really so far from the truth, though?
I mean, unofficially, I am 0his bride. Just of the mail order variety, is all.
I decide to keep those thoughts to myself.
“Checking in?” the clerk asks, customer service smile firmly in place.
“Yes. Michael Kirkwood.”
“Okay,” he replies, typing incredibly fast into his computer, “and this is Mrs. Kirkwood?”
“Yes.” Michael says, without missing a beat.
I smile broadly against his neck.
I never thought of myself as the type to take a man’s last name. I mean, my name’s pretty fucking great, why would I ever change it?
Now, though, I’m really liking the sound of it.
Mrs. Kirkw
ood.
I could get used to that.
I try it out in my head the entire elevator ride,
Dr. and Mrs. Kirkwood. Or, if my plan from earlier works out, Dr. and Dr. Kirkwood.
That last one makes me laugh.
Michael carries me all the way to the room, even opening the door one-handed. My feet don’t touch the floor until we’re safely in front of the bed.
Even then, I hesitate to let go, somehow afraid that if I do, I’ll realize that this was all my imagination. That I’m really still in that car. Still with him.
Michael gently unhooks my arms from his neck, guiding me into a sitting position on the bed.
“It’s okay,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He kneels in front of me and brushes his hand softly across my temple, over the cut that I got in the crash.
“You’re so beautiful.” he whispers, leaning forward to claim my mouth with his own.
His kiss is softer than I’ve ever felt from him, and yet somehow still more.
It’s a kiss full of relief and promise.
And love.
I kiss him back, my own promise.
He half-stands, leaning into me so that I lie on my back, him above me.
His kiss travels from my lips, making its way down my neck, past the torn silk of my dress.
Another one-of-a-kind garment ruined. At this rate, I’ll never be allowed to wear luxury designer again.
But considering the state of undress I’m planning on being in for as long as Michael will have me…maybe I won’t even mind.
I feel his hand on my breast, his thumb rubbing against my nipple.
His other hand finds the hem of my dress, slowly sliding it up and over my thighs.
I lift my hips from the bed, needing to feel his stiffness.
He’s rock hard against me.
“Michael.” I moan, grinding myself into him. “Give it to me.”
“Not yet.” he answers, torturing me.
He slides down onto the floor, head now between my knees, and grabs my thong on either side. I hear the flimsy fabric tear in his grip, feel the cool air that washes over me in its absence.
He spreads my legs gently, like he’s afraid of hurting me.
I guess I don’t blame him. Looking down, I can see more than a few bruises forming…
Still, though, I wouldn’t be opposed to him giving me a few more.
I’m about to tell him so, when I feel his mouth against me, banishing the words from my lips.
Fuck.
He drives his tongue into me like a man who’s lost all control. His fingers dig into my thighs, holding me fiercely, possessively.
I hear him moan, and I let out a cry of my own, hips again rising off the bed toward him.
I reach down with both hands, gripping his hair desperately between my fingers.
His tongue slides over my clit, and I ache with pleasure.
It flicks roughly across me, and I moan louder.
His fingers slip into me, and I feel claimed.
His.
I’m his.
And he is mine.
My every nerve screams out at me. A symphony of sensations. Even the aches in my battered body seem like bliss.
His fingers drive deeper into me, and I push against them, fucking them the way I want to fuck him.
My hands are pulling insanely at his hair, my hips moving faster by the second.
His tongue moves along with me, matching my every need.
I feel my orgasm building, waves of pure electricity that seem to form in my stomach before exploding.
I scream, tightening around his fingers.
When I come, fucking angels sing.
Molten lava erupts.
The heavens weep.
I am rocketed off into an ecstasy purer than I imagined possible.
I scream his name the entire time.
After, I find myself once again in his arms, now my absolute most favorite place to be.
I’m so content here, I actually feel high. My breath comes in as gasps and leaves as laughter.
I have never felt so completely satisfied in my life. I doubt that anyone has.
I find his mouth, kissing him hard, reminding him that he is mine. That I am his.
Mrs. Kirkwood, I think.
Yeah. I like the sound of that.
21
Michael
A cool breeze across my naked chest stirs me, and the first thing I feel is the aching all over. I groan as I roll over, dozens of bruises, wrecked muscles, and joints screaming at me.
Sometimes it sucks to be a doctor. You know exactly everything that’s wrong with you, and exactly how long it’ll take to heal.
I lie on my right side, stretching out in the massive bed. I think we might be in the honeymoon suite—I honestly don’t remember.
I know there were cops, questions, and hospitals, but when and where and in what order, it’s all a blur.
I just wanted to get my woman alone. I remember hurling a gold card at some young dick behind a counter…taking off my filthy clothes and falling into bed between Stella’s thighs.
There’s a ripped piece of fabric laying on the floor that vaguely resembles the remains of a thong.
Coupled with the taste of Stella’s pussy still lingering on my tongue…I must have enjoyed myself there, too.
I lie still, watching her. Her eyelids flutter, just a touch, and her gorgeous lips curve in a dream-smile. Her fingers shift, just a little, and I smile, wondering what she’s dreaming about.
She gasps softly, a whisper escaping her mouth. “Michael.”
I sit up, instantly alert. I hold her shoulder gently, stroking her smooth skin.
“I’m here, baby,” I whisper, “I’m right here, and I’m never going anywhere ever again.”
She opens her eyes, slowly, stretching, reaching up towards me. “Fucking kiss me and prove it then.”
I lean down and kiss her softly, gently. My cock stands to attention immediately, but I tell him to sit the fuck down.
I’m a new man now. It’s not about what I want. It’s about what she wants.
As our lips explore each other, she slips her tongue into my mouth and leans back, licking my own tongue. Her hips move, and her thighs open, and I can’t help it—I let out a little sound of distress. She’s so fucking hot.
“What’s the matter, baby?” She looks at me dreamily, stroking my bare chest. “Shouldn’t you be ravishing me right now?” Her grin and the twinkle in her eye is enough to make a priest weep.
“I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve been through so much. Let me just hold you.”
Stella laughs, a carefree sound. “Sorry, honey, but that’s just not going to work for me,” she reaches up, kissing me softly but deeply, teasing with her tongue. “I need you to fuck me.”
I sweep the sheet aside, moving over her to run my hands from her shoulders to stroke her arms.
“I want to do something I’ve never done before,” I whisper, drinking in her perfect skin, her round breasts.
Her nipples are so hard, so pink, I can’t help it—I have to reach down and take one in my mouth, softly rolling it between my lips.
She gasps and grabs the back of my head, so I give her some more, flicking my tongue against the edges of her nipple as it gets tighter.
“What…d-do you want to do?” she gasps. I can tell she’s curious. I come back to her face, stroking her cheek with my left hand.
“I want to make love,” I whisper, my right hand lightly stroking the other nipple now, savoring the smoothness of her skin and the roughness of her nipple.
She blinks, trying to stay with it, but the pleasure is too much. She rolls her head back and rocks her hips, and I can’t wait anymore.
I slide both hands slowly down her hips as I move down, crouching and grabbing her ass cheeks as I bring her towards me.
I mouth her clit, gently pulling away then coming in with my tongue, teasing her wit
h a deep lick then going back to squeezing it gently with my lips. She moans and writhes, and I trail my tongue down to those deeper parts, right in the cunt.
She’s so wet, and oh, fuck. She’s just getting wetter.
My tongue tries to chase it back to its source as her hips grind against me. She grabs a fistful of my hair and holds me down, and I don’t think anything in the world could make me happier.
I feel it as she begins to spasm. I’m working my lips and tongue deep into her, eating the orgasms out of her as she crests from one orgasm to the next. As she drips, I mouth her gorgeous clit one more time. Man, how I love seeing it swollen and pink and desperate for more action.
She’s breathing so hard, her gorgeous tits are heaving up and down. She’s got that blank look in her eyes, the one anyone gets when the desire is so hard, all conscious thought has fled.
I sit up, coming up between her legs. Gently, I place my hands on her hips, teasing her hole with my cock. I slide it up and down, from clit to pussy, my cock getting more engorged by the second until it’s almost like pain.
“Put it in! For fuck’s sake, Michael, put it in and fuck me!”
The smile that bursts on to my face is pure joy.
I’ve never been so happy.
Slowly, I draw my cock down into that deep, wet place. Inch by inch, I push it into her. She’s tight and wet, every inch still a fight as my giant cock slides into her tight wet pussy. She starts writhing and grabbing my arms, but I remain in control, thrusting slowly and gently, making sure she is not in pain.
Like I said, it’s hard being a doctor sometimes. I know she’s injured, and she might not feel it now with the endorphins flooding her brain, but after, she will feel bruised.
I can’t have that. I have to do my angel deep and slow.
If she wants to be fucked, it’s my job to fuck her right.
For the rest of her life.
She’s rocking against my cock now, trying to force a faster rhythm. She grinds her hips against me, and I can feel those orgasms flowing again, a chain of them, the sharp spasms and clenches pumping my cock.
I smile and reach down with one hand to thumb her clit, and that does it—she screams and rocks as vaginal and clitoral orgasms hit at the same time. My cock is literally drenched by the river of delicious woman cum trying to squeeze around it.
The Proposal Problem: A Billionaire Royal Hangover Romance Page 26