His Princess (A Royal Romance)

by Abigail Graham

  Rose leans against me as I massage her shoulders. She’s not so tense now but it makes her purr like a cat. I reach around her and turn the showerhead to sluice the soap off her body. It gives me a reason to rest my head on her shoulder.

  Then I turn the lever and the faucet starts flooding the bottom. I tap the plug with my foot so it will fill, and pull Rose to me, drawing her to sit with me as the tub fills around us. She shivers harder, her teeth chattering until the hot water rises up to our shoulders.

  She sinks to her chin into the water, sliding her back against me in the process. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of a woman’s skin in warm water. Her head falls on my chest.

  “We can’t stay in here too long. My kids…”

  “Lean forward.”

  She sits up and draws up her knees. I rise behind her, take the soap, and scrub her back, first lather, then lightly scratching with my nails. She shudders when I do but smiles, contented. After I rinse her back I reach up and knock a bottle of shampoo into my hands, squeeze a big gob into my palm, and start lathering up her hair.

  Rose makes a soft sound and leans back a little when my fingers move over her scalp, working the shampoo down to the skin. She likes that, and I keep at it far too long.

  Finally she shakes loose and sinks into the water, dipping between my legs before rising up again. She squeezes the soapy water out of her hair then does it again. I feel like I’m watching a mermaid frolic in the surf. The water turns her hair a darker red, like rose petals at midnight.

  Slowly she stands up. I lie back and watch, drinking in every muscle flexing, the soft movements of her naked breasts, the way her ass clenches when she arches her back and stretches. The tub starts to drain as I stand and she turns the shower back on, ducking her head under the stream to clear the last of the soap from her hair.

  As I stand up she turns around and glances down at my throbbing cock.

  “Mmm. Be a shame to leave you like that, wouldn’t it, you poor man?”

  She takes me in her hand and strokes. I pull her against me as she caresses my cock in her fist, rubbing the head against her stomach. She kisses me hungrily and jerks light and fast. It doesn’t take much. Her tongue, the heat of her lips, the soft weight of her breasts against my chest, the way her skin feels wet in my hands as I run them over her back and ass.

  I grunt and explode all over her hand and stomach…and chest. She looks down and when she looks back up with one eyebrow raised I start laughing.

  “Not going to run out easily, are you?”

  After we wash up and step out of the shower, I growl at her.

  “You better get some clothes on unless you want to get fucked again.”

  Rose bites her lip and dresses with slowness, lifting one leg at a time and putting on quite a show as she steps into her panties.

  Then she thinks better of it and steps out of them, and pulls on her sweats without them. She leaves the black silk on the bed.

  “Keep ’em.” She smirks.

  I’m so distracted watching her I almost put my jeans on backward. When she’s fully dressed it’s easier for me. Her hair is still damp and she looks flushed as I walk outside with her, engulfed by the heat and sounds of revelry. It’s still early afternoon and I squint until my eyes adjust.

  Rose walks down my yard to the street and scans for her kids.

  “Oh, fuck me,” she moans.

  “I thought you said we have to get the kids?”

  “I meant that, like, rhetorically,” she sighs. “My ex is here. Over there with the girls.”

  I spot them, and I spot him.

  Russ. He looks like a Russ. He’s got a nice piece of ass with him, but after Rose she just feels generic, part of the background. I barely give her a moment’s thought.

  The man himself is tall, skinny, and I think I can see why Rose fell for him. He’s got that same look that Burt character has, just more subdued. I can tell why he pumped and dumped Rose, too. Too much fire for him. Guy like that wants to shine, so he needs a dim bulb like the bimbo on his arm to make sure he isn’t overmatched by a brighter star.

  Rose heads over and I follow.

  As soon as we’re close enough, this Russ looks up and practically shouts, “Why weren’t you supervising them?”

  The girls shift uncomfortably on their feet. They don’t like Dad. Karen sees me standing with Rose, and her wide eyes bounce back and forth between us like pinballs as she reads the situation. Her mouth falls open for a second and quickly closes.

  Rose’s wet hair and the glow on her skin are enough signal for Russ, too. He gives me The Look, the one that can only be shared between a man a woman is fucking and the man she used to be fucking, sizing each other up.

  Come get some, nutty professor. I’m down.

  He can’t quite manage eye contact with me.

  “What are you doing here?” Rose snaps.

  “I asked you a question first,” Russ says, filling his voice with professorial authority.

  “Dad,” Karen sighs. “We’re fine. I’m fourteen freaking years old and there’s fifty adults and a security guard here. We don’t have to sit on Mom’s lap all day. It’s a party.”

  “Be quiet,” he snaps.

  “Hey,” I bark.

  My voice cuts through the noise around us. Everybody goes a little quiet. I mean everybody, half the street. The clown with the balloon animals stops in the middle of folding a dachshund and looks over.

  “Don’t talk to her like that. I don’t like your tone.”

  Karen blinks a few times and steps back, watching me.

  Russ looks a little shaken, but puffs himself up pretty well. “Excuse me?”

  “No, I won’t excuse use you. Don’t bother begging my pardon either. Where do you get off snapping at Karen like that?”

  “This is a conversation between adults.”

  “Then what’s she doing here?” I flick my chin at his new wife. “What is she, sixteen?”

  Her pretty mouth drops open, and then she scowls and starts to say something before Russ pats her arm.

  “Rose, keep this Neanderthal away from—”

  Oh, that is fucking it.

  I grab Russ by the collar and almost haul him off the ground. Only the toes of his expensive boat shoes are scraping the pavement.

  “You little worm,” I growl in his face. “What in the fuck is the matter with you?” My voice rises, strained. “How can you have all this and just throw it away? How can you have this life and just toss it in the trash like it means nothing? Do you know how many people would kill to have a woman like this, kids like these? You have everything that matters in the world and you just shit all over it, and for what? A bimbo with big fake tits?”

  I glance at the wife. “Sorry, honey. Surgeon did a great job, by the way.”

  Karen leans over and whispers in Kelly’s ear. “I told you.”

  “Quent,” Rose says, firm and soft at the same time.

  I blink. It’s the first time she’s shortened my name.

  I let go of Russ’s collar. He takes a step back.

  Then he smiles.

  Oh fuck, what did I do?

  “I’m sure this will look lovely for the judge. Did you get that honey?”

  His wife draws a cell phone from her purse and taps the screen. “I got it.”

  I can feel the heat rising to my skin. Rage boils in my stomach, sending volcanic blasts into my chest. My fingers flex, ready to dig into something and rip. It’s everything I can do not to pound Russ’s face in right now, just hammer on him until he looks like somebody shat on a meat pie.

  Russ draws an envelope from his pocket and thrusts it at Rose.

  “You’ve been served.”

  “What?” Rose snaps, grabbing it.

  “There will be a new custody hearing. I presented the court with evidence of your neglect and unfitness as a mother. You leave my children alone and unattended for hours—”

  “Two hours!” Rose shouts.
“They’re latchkey kids, you fucking imbecile. There are a dozen kids in this neighborhood that do the same thing!”

  “Mom—” Karen tries to break in.

  “Take your sister and go in the house. Now.”

  As Karen drags Kelly back up the front walk, Russ looks at me. “I was asking my children where you were just before you arrived. From what I see here I can piece it together. You dumped them out the front door and left them unattended for hours—”

  Hours? It didn’t feel like hours.

  “—to fuck this cretin.”

  “Watch your mouth, Russ.” I growl.

  He sputters and steps back.

  “Who I’m sleeping with doesn’t matter,” she snaps.

  “You are sleeping with him.”

  “Yes. I have a boyfriend. I can be happy without you, you egomaniacal asshole. Fine, pull your bullshit. You’re not taking my kids away. I will fight you to my last breath. We both know you didn’t want either of them in the first place. This isn’t about taking care of them, it’s about hurting me. Play your games, fucker.”

  She turns on her heels and strides toward the house.

  I start to turn.

  “You,” Russ snaps. “You’d better not put your hands on me ever again. I know people.”

  I stop, stride over to him, and close the gap before he can pull back. I put my hand on his shoulder, dropping it hard and locking him down while I lean in to whisper in his ear.

  “I am people, Russ.”

  The look on his face would normally amuse me, but I’ll leave it to his new trophy wife to clean the brown stain out of his pants. I turn and rush after Rose, barely catching her.

  She’s the picture of furious confidence until I close the door, and then she breaks down sobbing.

  I throw my arms around her as the kids rush out. I motion for them to back off and Karen nods, leading Kelly away before the smaller one can blurt something out.

  I guide Rose to the couch and sit her down with me, and she buries her face into my shoulder, weeping.

  “Fuck,” she screams, pounding my chest with her delicate fists.

  “I can’t deal with this now. I can’t afford a lawyer. I can’t take the time off. I don’t have enough hours in the day to deal with another hearing, I just don’t. He doesn’t even like the kids, he just wants to spite me.”

  “I know.”

  “What am I going to do?” she moans.

  “I don’t… I don’t know.”

  Rose clutches me like I’m going to disappear.

  “You can’t leave yet.”

  Fuck me, I can’t leave at all. I can’t leave her like this.

  I hold her just as hard and cold dread slides down my back. I did a good job of hiding my trail, and Dale is a good man, but somewhere out there Santiago is drawing ever closer, like a shark tightening the circle before it bites its prey.

  Unless I want Rose caught in his teeth, I can’t be here when he finds me.

  She sits up with a sudden sniff, and scrubs her face clean.

  “No time for that. That miserable bastard, he had to ruin the kids’ day. They must be upset.”

  “Yeah.”

  Rose gets up. “Stay for dinner.”

  Her voice almost rises at the end. It’s almost a question. I spring to my feet and follow her into the kitchen, where I kiss her gently on the lips, savoring her flavor. I can taste salt from her tears. She pulls away and dabs at her face with a tissue, and then I spot Karen standing in the other doorway, watching us.

  Rose looks over and sighs.

  “Are you guys together again now?”

  Rose looks at me.

  “Sort of. Quentin is still going to have to leave. He thought if he broke it off suddenly it would be easier on us than dragging it out.”

  “I don’t like goodbyes.” My voice chokes just a little.

  “How much longer can you stay?”

  “Tonight,” I sigh. “Then I have to go.”

  “Why? Did you do something bad?”

  “The less you know, the better,” Rose says quickly. “We should remember the good parts.”

  I nod.

  “You have a grill, right?”

  Rose looks back at me. “Yeah.”

  “Karen, go get your sister. We’re having a cookout.”

  “She already ate like fifteen hot dogs…”

  “Can she eat more?”

  “Probably.”

  “Good enough.”

  Karen steps out and I sigh. Rose turns to me and I tell her what I’ll need. She thaws some chicken-on-the-bone in the microwave while I go up and pile charcoal in her grill and get it going. It’s not fancy but it’s big, and that’s what we’ll need.

  I know we have enough things from the store.I bought them. I talk Rose through making the quick marinade for the chicken while I crush my fingers into ground beef to make the burgers.

  “What are you putting in those?”

  I rattle off the ingredients to her as I mix them into the bowl with the beef then form them into patties.

  The chicken goes on first, as soon as the coals have properly heated. I sit back in a lawn chair and drink a beer Rose gives me. For a while I’m out there alone in her backyard, holding the cold beer in my hand, and I just want to crumple into dust and disappear.

  This has been as a dream, and now I must wake up. This mundane heaven was not fashioned for monsters like me. By staying I will only anchor it to hell.

  I whistle loudly and Rose comes out carrying the other meats, and we lay them out on the grill together. I tend to the meat while she cooks inside, making up the sides and gravy for the chicken.

  Gravy is important. The sauce makes the dish.

  It’s too damned hot to eat outside, or I would. Instead Rose sends Karen out to help. There’s too much meat for one tray. It’s a feast.

  Usually I stick to a fairly strict diet, but once everyone is seated I chow down, eating a hot dog slathered in mustard and ketchup in one hand while devouring a drumstick in the other. The kids eat like mad; even Karen piles up her plate, leaving a trail of discarded chicken bones in her wake.

  I eat some of everything—even the rolls Rose baked. No meal has ever been so full or satisfying in my life. I’m a little surprised when she pours us both glasses of wine.

  “Kids, Quentin is going to be staying over tonight,” she announces. “Try to give us a little space.”

  The two girls look at each other and grin for different reasons. I should leave now, tonight, just get out. The longer I stay, the deeper Rose will settle inside me, until pulling her away becomes tearing out my heart.

  Who am I kidding? That’s happening already.

  I pause in the middle of eating my last cheeseburger, as if finishing it is one step closer to the end and by taking the last bite I hasten my departure. After everything I just ate I give up on it and slap it on the plate, sit back in my chair, and let out a deep breath.

  “Kids, help me with the leftovers,” Rose says, rising. She gives me a look and sips more wine.

  After they pack away the food, the kids get the dishes while Rose walks upstairs. She stops and looks over her shoulder at me, like, what are you waiting for?

  If waiting would slow the end, I’d wait forever.

  I follow her upstairs and she locks her bedroom door.

  “Is this goodbye sex?” I say very softly.

  “Yeah. Take off your clothes and lie on the bed.”

  I want to growl at her and tell her she’s not going to boss me around, but the tone of her voice has shifted from command to surrender. I slip out of my clothes and spread out on her bed. The room is a weird mirror of mine, though her bed is bigger and in a different place in the room. She undresses slowly, sensually, making the act of removing her sweats the dance of the seven veils.

  I’m already hard by the time she comes over.

  She throws her leg over me, straddles me, and my cock slides into her hot body, throbbing around me as she
bites her lip. Rose makes a little sound, and rolls her hips, taking my one hand in both of hers to hold it between them against her chest and stare at me.

  I lightly grasp her neck and pull her down, and she slips her arms around me as I shift a little so she can push her hips back and forth, up and down, and ride me with her cheek leaning on my chest. I melt into the bed and the only motion between us is the roll of our hips in unison.

  I pull her close to me, put my hand on her back to steady her so I stay inside, and we roll over so I’m on top. I don’t pull back and loom over her and I don’t hammer her. I go slow, savoring the pleasure of every stroke.

  Neither of us makes a sound louder than a gasp or sigh, even if Rose has to clench her teeth to stop herself.

  The only time I make a noise, Rose covers my mouth with her hand as I come. When she lets go I lie there panting on top of her.

  “Keep going,” she says.

  When we finally finish I’m exhausted and finally, at long last, satisfied.

  “I’m going to be gone in the morning,” I tell her.

  “I know,” she says before she goes to sleep.

  “I love you.”

  “Mmm,” she says, and pulls herself against me, half asleep.

  16

  Rose

  It’s Sunday morning and I should sleep in, but my heart knows I must wake, and so when my eyes open, the sun has not yet fully risen, only a dull glow in my blinds to illuminate an empty bed.

  His side is still warm.

  His side.

  I pull the sheet into my fist and wonder why I’m not crying. I feel hollow inside, like the presence of something I’d never noticed has been removed and taught me its shape by its absence. I don’t want to go to sleep but I don’t want to wake. I want it to be yesterday again.

  I want Quentin.

  Rising to sit up, I lean on my knees and try to understand how I feel. The cold void inside offers me no answers. Am I sad that he’s gone or sad that I ever knew him? Part of me wants to wish him away, make it all a dream. It would be better if we never knew each other at all.