A Player for A Princess: Dirty Players Duet #2

by Tia Louise

  He moves a lock of hair behind my ear. “She misses you.”

  I blink up, looking around the ceiling and out at the band. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my emotions. “We’ve never been apart. Not once in our lives.”

  He catches my chin. “I love you, Zelda. Come home with me. You’re not helping anyone being so far away.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m also not putting anyone in the line of fire.”

  The beefy man from the Divi appears carrying a paper sack. “Logan, at last,” Cal says, taking it from him.

  Logan hands him the bag, and his blue eyes move to me.

  “Mr. Thomas,” I say with a smile.

  “Hunt,” he corrects in that low, serious voice, no smile, always on guard.

  “But in the Divi you said—”

  “I simply dropped my last name.”

  Cal lifts out two paper boxes and opens them to reveal fried fish and chips. “Looks like cod,” he says, holding out a French fry.

  I take it and pop it in my mouth. “Oh!” I grab my drink and take a quick sip. “They’re blazing hot!”

  “Sorry—I just picked them up.” Logan says, reaching out as if to help me.

  “Thank you,” I say and he quickly withdraws. His gaze lingers, but Cal draws my attention.

  “You need to eat something.” I watch as he opens a packet of malted vinegar and shakes it over the fish. Then he passes over a plastic fork while I open the small cup of coleslaw.

  “Perfect beach food,” I say, scooping out a bite of the savory salad. “Isn’t this great?”

  “I’m sure you’d think anything was great at this point.” His eye narrow slightly, and I lean into his chest.

  “Are you saying I’m drunk?” That makes me giggle, and I sway to “Could You Be Loved.”

  His eyes travel over me slowly again, and it’s like warm honey in my veins. “Perhaps not drunk, but you’re definitely switching to something non-alcoholic. I want you sober tonight when I fuck you.”

  “Jee-zus,” I sigh. This man.

  Shaking my head, I fork a large piece of fried cod and slip it in my mouth. Then I let out a little groan. “This is so good.” I fork another one as he watches me.

  “Traditional British fare,” he says.

  “For the British Virgin Islands… Aren’t you eating?”

  He does a little laugh and picks up the entire piece of cod with his hand. It’s like a fried brown football, and he bites the pointed end off, giving me a wink.

  I laugh and rest my head on my hand. “See? You can do the simple life. What if we just stay here? It’s not such a bad place.”

  He’s wiping the grease away with a paper napkin. “I’d stay anywhere with you.”

  He means it, and he has no idea what those words do to me—the rush in my stomach, the tingle between my thighs. “Cal.”

  I watch as he flags down the bartender. “What sort of… non-alcoholic drinks do you have?”

  The man turns and digs around in a box of ice. “Coke?”

  A red can is placed in front of me, and I give Cal a sheepish grin as I pop the top. “Thanks?”

  “Happens to the best of us.” He winks and leans closer.

  The song changes to “Is This Love,” and Cal’s eyes light. “I love this song.”

  My hand is in his, and we’re on the dance floor faster than I can say “more cod.” One strong arm is around my waist, the other holds my hand near our shoulders. I’m thankful I wore my platform espadrilles so my chin is just at his collarbone. Our bodies touch from shoulder to hip, and citrus, cedar, and Cal fill my senses with every sway.

  “So I throw my cards on your table,” he croons softly in my ear, and I hum as little chills skirt down my arms.

  Tingling warmth swells in my chest, and I close my eyes, floating in his arms to the perfect soundtrack. I’m not sure if my head is spinning because of the punch or his proximity, but it can’t get any better. Or it couldn’t until his warm lips touch the side of my neck.

  “Oh, Cal,” I sigh, melting into him.

  I’m more sober and completely horny hours later as we’re walking, fingers laced, up the sand path to the villa. Strolling in the moonlight after the evening we’ve just shared, I reconsider my reasons for staying.

  “Ava once said I live for the adrenaline rush.”

  He stops us midway to the house. “Okay?”

  It’s late, and the moon is shining down. I want to strip out of our clothes and run down to the ocean. Still, I continue. “I wanted her to get her GED, go to community college, and get a real job. I wanted us to leave that life of crime. She said I was small time. She said I live for the adrenaline rush of nearly getting caught.”

  My eyes drop, and I study the front of that ridiculous tee. I’m still ashamed of what I am—of him knowing, but I think of that little girl who watched me grow up. Ava knows me unlike anyone in my life. She’d also been the one begging me to stay in Monagasco. She said she’d never seen me with anyone the way I am with Cal.

  “Are you worried you’ll grow tired of me?” The slightest tease is in his voice—still, it’s laced with seriousness.

  “I’m worried I don’t know what I’ll do.” My throat is tight, and I’m doing my best to be as honest as I can without hurting him. “What will I do if I go back with you? Sit around and knit?”

  “I have never seen any woman knitting in Monagasco.” His voice is full of authority. “Under the age of eighty.”

  I snort a laugh and step into his body. His arms go around me, but just as fast he lifts me off my feet. I’m in his arms, and my legs loop around his waist. I’m holding his neck and the floodlights on the corners of the villa light us while casting deep shadows.

  “What if I promise never to let you second guess your decision?” His voice is thick. I hold his cheeks, staring down at this beautiful man I love.

  “You can’t promise something like that.”

  “I just did.”

  I sigh and lean forward into our hug. I don’t want to think anymore. Turning my head to the side, I speak softly in his ear. “Take me to bed or lose me forever,” I tease.

  “I can’t believe you just quoted Top Gun,” he laughs.

  “Me either, but you’d better do it.”

  8

  Decision

  Cal

  Warm yellow light from the bathroom illuminates the master bedroom. Zelda sits on the edge of the white mattress looking up at me. Her blue eyes are so round. I touch the top of her cheek with my thumb. She’s been more honest with me than she’s ever been, and my anger has faded away.

  She’s afraid she’ll get bored. It almost makes me laugh, considering my past. But none of that is what she needs to hear. I remember her question on the yacht the night of the Rose Gala. So many things she said to me in those days are so clear now.

  “What do you see when you look at me?” I say lightly, repeating her words back to her.

  She exhales a laugh and wrinkles her nose in an adorable way. “I didn’t really think through that question before I asked it.”

  My thumb moves to her chin and the off-center line running down it. “I told you all the things I love about you.”

  “You basically said I look bucktoothed, have a weird voice, and an off-center line in my chin.”

  “Bullshit!” I shout, pushing her back on the bed. I trap her under me, and she squeals a laugh as she tries to twist away. “Stop struggling. I won’t let you go. Now answer my question.”

  She exhales dramatically and stills. Those blue eyes move around my face, and I can’t imagine what she might say.

  “I see something I never thought in a million years would happen to me.”

  That’s better. “And what is that?”

  “A really good man who loves me. Not a criminal or a low life.”

  Moving to the side, I rest my head on my hand as I study her face. “Does this mean you’re coming back with me?”

  “Cal,” she sighs, rolling i
nto my chest. “You’re a prince. Princes go with ladies, debutantes. Not redneck hicks with bruised knees and bare feet who say fuck all the time.”

  “Mm… my favorite thing.” I kiss her shoulder, sliding the thin strap of her dress down her arm.

  She shrugs out of it, and I continue down to the swell of her breast. A little shiver makes me smile. Her fingers thread in the sides of my hair, curling, warming up.

  “The best part?” she says softly. “The part that makes no sense? I actually like my life. It’s easy. Simple.”

  I take a momentary break from her perfect tits. “Then why did you come after us?”

  Her lips quirk, and she hesitates before answering. It’s just long enough for me to say it with her. “Ava.”

  Zelda sighs. “She’s never been a redneck hick with bruised knees. She was born a lady.”

  “I think you idealize her.” I kiss the top of her shoulder.

  “Oh, she was a pickpocket, mind you,” she laughs. “But that was my influence. Ava would have done better. The only thing stopping her was me.”

  Lifting my head, I hold her eyes. “The only thing stopping you now is you. You might have passed her to Rowan, but you’re not alone.”

  Her eyes divert, and for a moment the only sound is the noise of the ceiling fan and in the distance, the sound of the waves breaking along the shore. When she turns back to me, she places her hands on my cheeks and leans up to kiss me.

  I roll her onto her back deepening the kiss. Her mouth opens with a little noise, and our tongues curl together. Lifting my head, I pull that full top lip I love between my teeth lightly before sliding down her body, kissing a line down to her breasts. I smile as I feel her body respond. Her hands slide into my hair as I pull that sundress all the way off her.

  She’s wearing only a lacy white thong. “You never threw this on the roof,” I say, hooking my thumbs under the sides and pulling it down her luscious legs.

  “I guess you’re too distracting.” Her shoulder rises with her sigh, and I smile. She’s so beautiful.

  “Come here.” Moving to my knees at the side of the bed, I hook my arms around her thighs and jerk that bare pussy to my mouth.

  She lets out a little squeal as I slide my tongue over the little bud hidden there.

  “Oh, god, Cal,” she gasps, touching my cheek. “I’m so close.”

  “Hmm,” I kiss the crease of her thigh and her stomach quivers. I slide my palm flat over her, circling my thumb around her navel.

  Her knees bend, and she holds her hands to me, “Come up here.”

  One last pass over her clit, and her back arches. “Cal! Come to me.” Her fingers flex, and I laugh, kissing her stomach before diving into her arms.

  A little fumbling, a little rotating of our hips, and I rock deep into her. Our mouths fuse together, and her arms are tight around my shoulders. I’m pretty close to the edge myself. I feel when she breaks, and I pull up, driving deeper. Her mouth is on my neck, and when I feel her teeth, I shoot over it.

  “Fuck,” I groan as I finish. My forehead drops to her shoulder, and her legs are tight around my waist. Her lips are right at my ear.

  “So good,” she whispers, and my arms flex around her.

  Moving my palms to the sides of her face, I look into her eyes. They’re hazy and tired, and I catch her around the waist, dragging us up to the pillows before I pull her back to my chest, circling her in my arms.

  “Sleep, beautiful,” I say, and it isn’t long before I hear her breathing smooth out as she falls asleep in my arms.

  For a little while, I listen to the sound of the waves breaking far below us as I think about what this means and the idea of a perfect life. I’ve given up trying to understand how my life changed when this woman entered it. Now I’m determined to bring it all the way home.

  * * *

  The sun wakes me, streaming through the open French doors, and I blink a few times at the white wooden ceiling, the dual fans moving ocean breezes around the airy room. The sound of soft laughter brings me completely around. I sit up and see Zelda’s on her side watching a movie on the large, flatscreen television.

  Sliding in behind her, I wrap an arm around her bare waist and kiss that place where her neck and shoulder meet. It gets me a little squeal.

  “Tickles!” she says, turning to kiss my lips briefly before returning to whatever is holding her attention.

  “What is this?” I say, leaning on my hand.

  “I don’t want to hear it, MacCallum.”

  I watch a moment as Matthew Perry grabs a young Salma Hayak and kisses her deeply (as if). “Oh, now you’re going to get it. You gave me shit for You’ve Got Mail, and you’re watching Fools Rush In?”

  “This movie is a million times better than You’ve Got Mail,” she says in that sassy voice, and I can’t resist.

  Pulling her shoulder toward me, I pin her against the mattress. “I’d love to hear your justification for that incredible statement.”

  “For starters, what self-respecting man…” (love how she emphasizes the word) “…watches You’ve Got Mail?”

  “You might recall I was trying to lure you back into my bed.”

  “Second, two words: Salma Hayak.”

  “We have a little girl crush, do we?”

  Her eyes roll. “She’s fun to watch, now let me up!” She struggles, and I kiss that little hollow at the base of her throat before releasing her.

  She giggles, and with her back to me, she scoots her back against my chest, her ass right at the level of my cock. Needless to say, it’s a few minutes before we’re watching any more of the show, and I’m far more relaxed with my morning wood gone.

  “I missed my favorite part!” Zelda pushes to a sitting position, and her blonde hair is standing nearly on end.

  I can’t help it. I laugh out loud. “Your sex hair is insane.”

  She blinks and tilts her face to the side. “I worked on it all night just for you!”

  Something hits me right in the gut, and I know I can’t put this off one more second. Zelda sees my expression change and her teasing disappears.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks.

  Sitting up beside her, I grab her waist and pull her across my lap in a straddle. Her hands are on my shoulders, and I reach up to hold her cheeks in both my hands.

  “Zelda?”

  She does a little smile. “MacCallum?”

  “I want you to marry me.” Fuck. Yep, I said it. “I don’t have a ring yet, but there are several jewelry stores in Road Town. We have to go back to Monagasco, but I’ll talk to Rowan about us living here—in Tortola—once things are resolved, of course…” Her eyes blink faster the more I speak, and I see the glisten of tears in them. “What’s the matter, beautiful? Did you think I wouldn’t ask?”

  “What are you saying?” she whispers.

  “I’m saying I want you to be my wife, Zelda Wilder. Shit, we’re fucking made for each other, and if you can’t see it… well, I won’t believe you. You’re too smart not to see it.”

  She pushes off my lap to sit beside me. “But what will you do? I know you’re a prince and all, but you must have some job—”

  “It’s true. Sadly, I can’t lie around all day fucking you and drinking champagne, but they have French Virgin Islands.”

  “They do?” Her brow lines.

  “Technically, they’re called the West Indies, but Martinique, St. Garth, Guadalupe…”

  “But… what does that mean?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but I’ll discuss it with Rowan. I’m sure we can figure out some diplomatic reason for me to be here. We’ll work it out.” She’s quiet, looking at me with her lips slightly parted. I exhale a laugh, and shit. My stomach is tight with nerves. “Just say yes, beautiful.”

  Her mouth closes, and she blinks down to her lap before she starts fucking shaking her head. “No,” she says softly.

  My jaw tightens. “Why the devil not?” I don’t mean to be sharp, but god dammi
t.

  She looks up fast, blue eyes round. “Not yet.”

  Okay, that response eases my temper slightly. “Go on…”

  “I can’t marry you with dirty hands.” She slides to the edge of the mattress and stands. “I have to meet with Seth today and settle our accounts. Let me…” she looks around before pulling that silly penis tee over her head. “Let me end things with him, separate. Then…”

  Her breath catches, and I’m out of the bed standing in front of her. She’s so small without her heels, her head is only at the center of my chest. In a sweep, I lift her, her legs going around my waist, her arms around my neck.

  “Then?” I say, looking up at her worried expression.

  She exhales a nervous laugh and covers her mouth. “Then… yes?” Her voice is so small, but my insides are exploding with satisfaction.

  “YES!” I shout, and she really laughs then.

  “You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

  Lowering her to standing, I cup her face in my hands, lifting it to mine. “I’m getting everything I never knew I always wanted.”

  Her eyes go wide, and she does a little shriek. “You just quoted Fools Rush In! You love that movie!”

  I laugh and kiss her smart mouth. “I love you.”

  “I love you,” she says, all joking aside. I kiss her again, and she struggles free. “Let me get this over with, and we can meet for lunch.”

  I sit back on the bed watching as she retrieves a halter-top denim sundress from the armoire. “Where are you meeting him?”

  “Road Town,” she says, pulling the halter dress over her breasts and tying it around her neck, leaving her lovely lined back exposed. She grabs a brush and begins pulling it through her wild hair. “He’s staying with some guy he knows from South Beach. I’ll give him his money, and then we can meet for lunch at Bomba’s!”

  “As much as I love that place, we’ll meet at the Sugar Mill Restaurant.”

  Giving up, she twists her hair into a cute little bun. “That’s a very fancy place.”

  “This is a very important moment.”