Rich Boy: A Royal Landlord Romance (Blue Collar Bachelors Book 5)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  "Is that a 'yes'? We're friends?"

  I pause, just to make him sweat a bit. "It's a 'yes’,” I say reluctantly, as if there’s ever really any other option but to give this man what he wants.

  Xavier beams like he just won an Olympic gold medal. "All right!" He punches the air with enthusiasm. "I think we should hug or something, though. I mean, since we’re officially friends now." He bites the corner of his lip.

  "A hug?" I take a protective step backward. "I haven't even brushed my teeth yet!"

  Despite my lame protest, he swoops me up in his bear arms. "I won't be hugging your mouth, silly," and my feet leave the ground. I screech as he twirls me around. Oh my god—his body feels good against mine. Hard, taut muscles under smooth, soft skin. His heart beating a solid rhythm against his ribcage. And the masculine, intoxicating smell of him. I like this too much.

  A shriek pelts past my lips. “Xavier!” I slap his chest until he puts me down. I laugh as I find my balance. "I totally wish you weren't so damn gorgeous. Because you're annoying as fuck." The confession slips from my tongue before I can manage to halt it.

  "Okay,” his face lights up with satisfaction, “Let’s back up to the part where you just called me ‘damn gorgeous’. Am I quoting that right?"

  Shit—I can’t believe I said that. You are so sloppy this morning, Nichols. So sloppy. What happened to playing it cool?

  He's standing there. Staring at me. Smirking. Waiting.

  I guess I should simply own up to it. I’m attracted to him. It’s not the end of the world. “Yes, I just called you ‘damn gorgeous’.”

  He nods slowly. “Ah, okay. I just wanted to make sure I heard that right.”

  “Don’t let it get to your head, Prince Charming. It’s not that deep.” I turn away, moving toward the kitchen, and fill the empty cup with sugar, hoping to give my flushed cheeks a minute to recover. But he's right behind me.

  He clears his throat momentously. "Now, before we proceed with this friendship, there's something I have to confess to you.”

  I grab two huge coffee cups from the cupboard and fill them halfway with coffee. "Uncontrollable flatulence?" I shoot. Then, I snicker to myself, proud as hell of my diss.

  He glares. "Take this seriously, please."

  I turn away from the coffee machine and face him, giving him my full attention.

  Drawing his fingers through his hair, he blows out a heavy breath. “I take my friendships very seriously. So, we’ll be hanging out a lot. But if ever I’m not around and you find yourself pining away for my companionship, don’t be shy. Just tell me.”

  "You are so full of yourself," I tell him as I thrust a cup of scalding black coffee into his hands.

  He cackles and brings the mug to his lips for a drink. Gaze hooked to his, I do the same.

  It’s the caffeine, right? That’s why my pulse is fluttering so wildly? Might be time to switch to decaf.

  As he lowers the cup, his eyes soften, all signs of joking gone. “In all seriousness though, I think you’re damn gorgeous, too, love.” Shit—it’s not the caffeine. It’s him and his swoon-inducing self. “We have so much in common. No wonder we’re best friends.”

  I laugh so abruptly coffee goes flying from my nose. It takes me a second to catch my bearings. He’s laughing, too. At me.

  "Are you happy now?" I blot my nostrils with a piece of paper towel.

  He lowers his mug from his lips. “When you opened the door, you were frowning. I got you to laugh so, yes, I'm happy now."

  And this blushing thing is becoming a habit. I don't understand what he's doing to me. I try to catch my composure and speak in an unaffected voice even though my nerves are raising hell on the inside. “You seem to already have breakfast plans—" I nod toward the mug of sugar I put on the table for him, "—but since we’re officially friends, I guess it would be rude not to invite you.” In one conversation, the plan to keep my walls up and not let him in has gone up in smoke. Talking to him is so easy, so natural. For some reason, I want him to know me. And I want to know him, too.

  “Invite me?”

  “I was just about to go have breakfast in my secret place."

  "Your secret place?"

  I nod, my voice going low with conspiracy. "It’s somewhere special I only share with my friends…” On my breathy tone, it really sounds like my words could have a double-meaning. At this point, I don’t really care.

  He drops the coffee mug on the table with a thud and shoves it away. “Fuck my breakfast plans. I'm intrigued."

  I smile, pleased. My heart feels a little trippy. “Okay. Let me go get changed and I’ll be right back.”

  Xavier plops himself down on a rickety kitchen chair. "I'll be waiting right here." He snatches up one of my course manuals from the table and cracks it open, his ankle sitting on his opposite knee. He turns and flashes me a wink.

  My pulse thumps in my veins as my feet carry me down the hallway to my bedroom.

  9

  Xavier

  Transfixed to the effortless sway of her body, my gaze roves the length of Sadie’s silky legs as I follow after her. I know it’s impolite—un-gentlemanly—still I can’t help but stare.

  Her skin is so smooth and creamy—well, now that those crazy splotches have healed up—and the bulbous curve of her arse is just begging for a good squeeze. My fingers clench around the coffee pot, wishing it was her supple flesh they were holding onto.

  At the end of the corridor, just outside of my apartment door, Sadie hugs the box of leftover donuts to her chest and grabs hold of the rusty metal ladder bolted to the wall. She leaps and pulls her body up quickly like a momma primate with her offspring tucked safely under her arm.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell are you doing?” I call after her.

  “Relax.” She adjusts her grip on our breakfast and slams her bony elbow into the skylight window above her head. The hatch pops right open and a brisk gust of cool air spills inside, blowing her chestnut hair across her face. I’d never even noticed the skylight before this moment. Something like cautious amazement blossoms in my chest as I watch the adventurous lass climb the ladder. “Come on,” she summons me as the rusty metal groans under her weight.

  “Are you serious? That looks fucking dangerous. And don’t you see the ‘Do not enter’ sign right there?”

  She glares down at me. “Don’t be a chicken, Xavier.”

  “You mean, don’t climb up there and break my neck like a chicken.”

  She just laughs. “Isn’t Prince Charming supposed to be brave? Hurry up. Come on. You’re gonna miss it.” Her excitement echoes in the air as she disappears through the hole.

  I’m not a coward. I’m the guy who jumped out of a palace window to escape Ridgeland. But that ladder? That ladder just doesn’t look right.

  Against my better judgment I follow her because she looks like an angel beckoning me through Heaven’s gates. So damn pretty. I crane my neck to look up into the hole. The purple-gray hues of the predawn sky beam down on me. I pause for a second, taken aback by the beauty of it. I hear Sadie’s voice. She’s urging me to climb the damn ladder.

  Ugh!

  I came to this town looking for rest. A vacation. This landlord gig is turning out to be far less relaxing than I expected. But I'm loving it. I'm enjoying every single moment with Sadie.

  She reaches in, taunting me about being a scaredy cat as she takes the coffee pot from my hands. So now, of course I have to climb the frigging ladder just to save face. I hope my life insurance policies are up to date. I grab hold of the first rung on the ladder. I don’t like the way the thing creaks under my weight so I quickly hike one foot up, then lift myself out of the opening. And when my head pokes through, I catch sight of those gorgeous legs again. My cock jolts at the heated rush of blood that invades it.

  I don't want to be her friend.

  I want to do things to her that friends would never dream of doing to each other. I want those smooth thighs locked in a choke
hold around my neck. I want to taste the sweet nectar at the apex of her thighs.

  This girl is killing me.

  She's at the very edge of the roof, leaning against the railing. At this angle, the heft of her ass is even more pronounced and I'm imagining how it would look spread out in front me if she got on her knees and buried her face in the pillows to muffle her screams as I claim her from behind. I manage to adjust my erection before she glances at me over her shoulder.

  "It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asks on a wispy breath.

  Only then does my gaze move out over the horizon to where the sun is slowly ascending from behind the coppery hills. "Yes, it is. It's breathtaking."

  She smiles and a thrill fires through me. Her lustrous brown hair slips over her narrow shoulders as she turns away. “Yeah...”

  My eyes revel in the opportunity to feast on her body again. Yes, the sunrise is amazing but not half as beautiful as she is.

  She's wearing cut-off denim shorts that have obviously seen too many washes—faded and ripped in all the right places—and an unbuttoned Chicago Cubs baseball shirt over the threadbare white tank top she was wearing when she answered the door earlier.

  I’d love to trace that mile of toned thigh with a trail of wet kisses. I'd love to dip my tongue into the indent of her belly button. And those tits, round and bouncy under the thin white fabric, I want to taste them so bad.

  She grabs the box of donuts from the ledge and moves to the pair of lounge chairs surrounding the weathered wooden table in the middle of the roof.

  Sighing contentedly, she pops open the lid on the box and collapses into a chair as she bites into a glazed treat. Sugary crumbs flutter into the valley between her breasts. My eyes transfix to that space. A groan gets stuck in the back of my throat.

  When my eyes snap up, she’s watching me. I've been caught staring. But her expression isn't angry or annoyed. She licks her bottom lip, looking just a bit nervous. Those dilated pupils surrounded by a ring of glittering caramel. Those lips, soft and parted. And bullocks, I think she wants me, too.

  "D'you...d'you like donuts?" Stretching the box out to me, she reels me in with an invisible string.

  I pad across the gravel toward her. Another rush of inappropriate visuals zips across my mind as I stand over her, my body casting a long shadow across hers. This idea of me on her in anyway sends a wayward thrill through my blood.

  Shunning all sense of decorum, my gaze flicks back to the sugar melting on her chest. "I love 'em." My voice is so raspy and thick there's no way she doesn't know exactly what I'm thinking. She swallows roughly as I take a jelly-filled donut and bite into it.

  Mmm...I bet she tastes just as sweet.

  “So this is your secret place, huh?”

  “Yup. It’s a pretty cool set up.” She sneaks a peek at me from over rim of her coffee cup. In the shimmering light of the rising sun, it's a shy, kittenish glance that goes straight to my cock. “And it’s all mine. None of the neighbours ever bother come up here.”

  Smiling, she reaches for a tube of sunscreen in the wicker basket under the table.

  My mouth goes dry as I watch her squirt a small dollop into her hands and start massaging it up and down her thighs. I can’t look away.

  When she catches me staring, her eyes go hazy and her teeth sink into her bottom lip. She gives me a barely-there smile. She knows I’m suffering, wanting to touch her, too. Her eyes are full of spite as she squirts another dab into her palm.

  I stand at the foot of her chair, looking down at her. I can’t move. I’m rooted there. “Need any help with that?” I make the offer in a gravelly tone.

  She keeps her words neutral although she knows exactly what she's doing to me. “No thank you,” she says simply. “I’ve got it.”

  I swallow around the knot in my throat as her hands slick gradually up the insides of her thighs. She’s doing this deliberately. Wicked, wicked girl. “Just thought I’d ask. It’s the friendly thing to do.”

  “It is a very friendly thing to do…” she says, “What a selfless offer. You weren't kidding about how great of a friend you are." She’s still grinning when she leans over and drops the lotion back into the basket. Her cleavage rolls forward, straining against the neckline of her tank top.

  I’m painfully hard right now. Her eyes flick up at the erection clearly outlined against the fabric of my gray shorts. I’m not even ashamed. I should be trying to hide it, to adjust myself discreetly. But there’s something sort of illicit about being here with her, about knowing that she knows exactly how much I want her.

  She pulls a pair of massive sunglasses from the basket and slips them over her eyes, hiding that playful, lusty look she’s been giving me all morning.

  She wants me.

  But I can’t…

  The girl is wild and carefree and addictive. All the things I crave. But I’m volatile. Barely holding myself together in one piece. She and I can’t possibly end well.

  Even idiots know not to toss a lit match at gasoline.

  With that warning fresh in my mind, I lower myself into the empty chair beside her.

  We sit in silence for a while. It’s sparkling with tension. I feel it moving across my skin.

  Then she throws her head back and groans. "By the way, I added 'install Jacuzzi on the roof' to your to-do list, right?"

  I tilt my face up to the sky. I’m grinning. "Yeah…sure..."

  Even without her dream Jacuzzi, she looks absolutely blissful lying here in the rising sun. It’s something so simple yet it makes her beam with contentment.

  I'm not used to women who are happy with the simple things. Women who don’t need to be handed the entire world on a platter just to crack a smile. That stokes the primal urge in me to give Sadie more, to give her everything.

  Her chest rises and falls, steady and peaceful. Little sounds fall from her parted lips. I think she’s sleeping. Damn, she's pretty when she sleeps. That's definitely a face I could wake up to in the morning…after a long night of our bodies grinding and pulsing together.

  Staring at her like this is kind of creepy, though. I should look for something else to do.

  My eyes drift to the wicker basket under the table. Out of curiosity, I pull it out and start digging around. A small battery-operated radio, sunscreen, more sunglasses, a beach towel, paper cups and dental floss.

  A big, veiny rod of silicone.

  My mouth goes dry.

  Jesus—is this what she sits around doing when she’s alone up here? Spreading her luscious thighs, pleasuring herself with pure abandon under the rising sun?

  I think my cock is about to explode. I flick the little, black switch at the base of the toy and it starts to vibrate in my hand. A subtle buzzing sound fills the air. Slowly, Sadie’s head rotates in my direction. She lifts the sunglasses from her face and our eyes hook on each other.

  “Hey…That’s mine…” she says softly. She doesn’t even look embarrassed. Actually, her breathing quickens and her nipples go taut. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she watches me. She’s waiting for my next move.

  I know what I want to do.

  I want to pull her little shorts down to her ankles and pull her panties down, too. Then spread her thighs wide. Open her wet folds with my fingers. Watch the look on her face as I penetrate her with that throbbing wand. And just as she’s about to climax, just as she’s ready to soar over the edge, I want to put my mouth on her. Suck at the sensitive flesh, swirl my tongue around her clit, pierce her cunt with my tongue.

  She waits.

  I can’t follow through.

  With a wrinkle of frustration on her brow, she reaches out and takes the vibrator from my hands.

  "That looks like a pretty naughty toy..." I manage to say past the tightness in my throat.

  "A naughty toy for a naughty girl." Her words come out slow and thick. Molasses. Her eyes shine with temptation when she looks at me.

  My self-restraint fails me. I find myself leaning closer. My v
oice goes deep. "Do naughty girls share their toys with their friends?" I shouldn't go there with her. I know I shouldn't.

  She laughs huskily, her body practically pulsing with lust. "No, they don't." Disappointment rages in the air. She’s rejecting my advances and although I know it’s for the best, I resent the fuck out of it.

  But then, she leans back and brings both feet to the seat of her chair. "Naughty girls play with their toys while their friends to watch..." Her tongue drags across her bottom lip. “…Knowing they can’t touch.”

  My lungs squeeze so hard it hurts. "What?"

  The girl sets the vibrating cock between her thighs, pressing her legs together to keep it from falling to the floor. A shiver moves through her but with steely determination, she keeps from moaning.

  She swallows, looking the slightest bit nervous as her fingers unlatch the button on the waistband of her shorts. When she spreads the fabric apart, I catch sight of that tiger-print thong. Heat unfurls in my belly and dives south as my cock turns to steel. With slow fingers, she grips the denim, the lace, the elastic and pushes it all down to her feet.

  And now, she's exposed. Pretty and pink and so damn wet, her fingers flutter across her silky nether lips.

  My whole body is paralyzed. I grip tight to the arms of the chair because all I want to do is drop to my knees at the foot of her chair, lock my hands around her ankles and eat her like a starving man.

  But Sadie's got plans of her own. She brings the buzzing wand to her folds and gently glides it the length of her slit. And more wetness streams out.

  She throws her head back, face up to the sky as she prods the vibrator into her opening. A groan echoes in my chest at the sight of the sex toy trembling between her perfect thighs.

  I'm barely holding back when she begins working the thing in and out of her. Her hand is drenched. So is her chair. Her pelvis begins to rock, speed increasing with each thrust as her beautiful features contort with pleasure.

  My cock jerks. It leaks. It begs me to dive into this girl. But I'm scared that if I touch her right now, I won't ever be able to stop.