Once he got his cock back in some semblance of normal working order, he got up, straightened up the disheveled bed, not even worrying about the disheveled him, and slipped back down the hall to the party. Of course, it was his mission to find Isabella again but damn, this was one of those gargantuan houses that seemed to be everyone’s house in this country, and with the crowd and the layout, it could be hours, if that, till he encountered her again.
He didn’t know a soul, so instead he wandered the place, grabbing a drink and a plate of food. At some point, he ran into Gabriella.
“So, uh, how’d it go?” she said.
What was with everyone’s need for news updates? He wasn’t a damned reporter.
“It?”
“With Isabella, silly!”
Sawyer played it cool. “She’s a lovely woman. We were able to work out our differences.”
Gabriella elbowed him in the gut. “Ahhh. The way we all work out our differences? Nothing like some frenzied make-up sex.”
“There wasn’t make-up sex. There wasn’t a breakup for which to have make-up sex. I was just trying to clarify some things.”
Gab winked at him. “Ah, I see. Clarification is what you call it. No worries, all good.”
Edouardo approached them and Sawyer gave him a nod.
“Gabriella, I’d like to have a word with you.”
“Be careful, Gab. When you go off to have a word with people around here, you never know what might happen.” Sawyer gave her a wink and walked away, happy he was able to defer her inquiries but sad he’d still not seen the woman he was dying to explore more.
~*~
At some point during the evening, Isabella disappeared into the restroom, only to discover, via Clementine’s Snapchat post, that she had been abandoned by her good friends. The bastards. Which meant she was going to either have to call the palace for a driver or wing it to get a ride back. The good news was it wasn’t a huge town, so she’d be fine. But dammit, when your own friends conspire against you, it’s a little disheartening.
Of course, she knew their ulterior motive was to facilitate a hookup with Sawyer, but she had so cooled from that notion, it was definitely not an option. In fact, she was struggling to figure out what got into her in the first place. This was the guy she needed to avoid at all costs. Despite his magnetic pull and how much she enjoyed running her fingers through his hair and argh!
She worked her way to one of the bars and ordered another of those tasty drinks, mingling with a handful of people she knew, all while keeping a sight line of the room in case any blue-eyed men with gifted hands came her way. If only he came, her way, that is. And if only she came, before Clementine ruined the moment. Then maybe she wouldn’t be holding out a smidgen of hope that maybe an orgasm was still on the horizon before this evening ended.
She looked at her watch, knowing she needed to find her way back home soon. Even in a huge palace, people notice when you’re out till all hours of the night.
Well after midnight, Isabella headed back for one more bathroom stop before calling her driver. As she came out of the bathroom, Sawyer approached her from behind in the dark hallway, placing his warm, masterful hands across her breasts, his breath branding her on her neck as he whispered to her, “I thought I’d never find you again.”
Isabella shivered. She wanted nothing more than to have been found by him, and now that he was here, there, she wanted nothing more than to be alone with him someplace where they could finish what they started. Consummate their earlier heated coupling. She placed her hands on top of his, pressing his hands against her flesh, the thin fabric of her dress the only barrier between her and happiness right now.
She moaned.
He licked the shell of her ear, his tongue working its way in a circle. “I need to feel you all warm and wet around me, Princess,” he said. “I can’t think about anything but fucking you.”
But Isabella’s mind was at war with herself. As much as she craved the pleasure that awaited her, the last thing she wanted was a crude fuck with a guy she’d hated only four short hours ago. That was not her style and she needed to stand by her principles.
She lifted his hands off her aroused breasts, much to her own chagrin, and turned around.
“Uh uh,” she said. “No can do.”
Sawyer looked at her, confused. “But I thought—”
“You thought I would just be some easy lay,” she said. “Sweet-talk her with bogus apologies and then bam, you’ll have her eating out of your hand, or worse, right?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Sawyer ran his hand over his face, obviously exasperated and wishing she was eating something else.
“I’m talking about you. About this,” she said, pointing at him and at herself. “This is not going anywhere. You got it?”
But apparently Sawyer hadn’t gotten it.
“You’re a crazy woman, you know that?” he said, his face inches from her, his voice elevating a bit louder than he knew it should. “First, you want to kill me, then you want me to bring you to climax, then you run away from me, then when you find me, you want my hands all over you. Then you turn into some Victorian princess whose virginal body must remain on the shelf for all eternity. What is it, Princess? What’s it gonna be?”
“First of all, I’m no virgin, so wave bye-bye to that fantasy,” she said. “And second of all, I’d no sooner have sex with you than—”
Sawyer closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to hers, silencing her false objections, his tongue battling hers to search and seek and explore her mouth. His hands were everywhere on her in an instant, and she reciprocated, only her hands went straight for the pot of gold, pressing against his erection till he moaned so loudly she had to silence him with her mouth.
Evidently, she hadn’t really meant it when she tried to tell him to get lost. Because right now, all she wanted was to get lost in him.
Chapter Eighteen
Hours later, Isabella lay in bed and opened her eyes to pitch darkness. Slowly, the room began to take on ghostly shapes: the crest of a pillow, the slightest outline of a lamp on a nearby nightstand. The profile of a man who snored quietly next to her.
A MAN?
And then it came back to her: the fight in the hallway and her anger so intense she could have pounded the man with her fists. Their faces so close to each other they were practically touching, only they were yelling epithets at each other.
Until... until he stopped yelling and clasped her face with his hands, those warm, strong hands, those gifted hands that could actually even make a penis look enticing in pastry form, no small feat... and he planted his mouth over hers even as she tried to shout at him. Then his lips were on hers and his tongue was exploring her mouth and all of a sudden she understood that concept of there being a fine line between love (or in this case lust) and hate because damn, he had her all hepped up on rage and suddenly she could only think about how badly she might want to crawl beneath his skin or, at least, feel him finding his way inside of her body.
Wait. What? Had she actually just thought that?
Hell no! She had too much pride to capitulate to a little heated been-too-long-since-she’d-done-this action. Huh uh. No way. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure. Although speaking of pleasure, then his hands were magically wending their way around that super clingy strapless dress, the one where you don’t know where the dress starts and the body ends, and damn, he could be her guest and slip that thing off of her pronto, if his handiwork was a sign of things to come. Before she knew it he’d somehow pulled down the top of her dress, exposing her breasts to his evident joy, judging by the look of unrequited horniness that had overtaken his lust-glazed eyes. He released his hypnotic grip on her mouth, but that was fine by her because his tongue and his lips and his hands and anything involving potential erogenous zones were headed south to focus on those newly exposed and ever-so-needy breasts.
When his mouth finally arrived at its destination,
he took a few swipes with his amazingly warm, rough, yet soft tongue and then blew puffs of air, causing her nipples to harden in defiance of her wishes. Ah, what the hell. Wishes were made to be broken, right? Or was that promises? Either way, if she actually had promised herself she’d never end up in a compromising sexual position with vibrator boy, well, she took it all back. Clearly, she didn’t know of his magical tongue or she’d never have made such a crazy call.
Meanwhile, his ever-so-skillful chef’s hands moved intently along her breasts again in a magical déjà vu, softly kneading her flesh, working her into a heated frenzy.
Good God, he hasn’t even gotten anywhere near the main event: if he’s got me whipped into such a lather with the previews, well, shoot, give me front row seats to the main event, please!
Warring devils and angels were hovering behind her, counseling Isabella on proper protocol:
Oh, baby, give me more!
No, no, a thousand times no! Have you no self-respect?
Crap. I can’t help myself. I’ve gotta go for broke.
Shameless floozy.
“Where else can we go so we don’t get caught? Not attempting the servant’s quarters again,” she said. “The last thing I need is to have anyone know I’m succumbing to desperate horniness with the likes of you.” She swiped her tongue across his just to reassure him she only half meant it.
“I’ve got my scooter out back. We’ll be long gone before anyone knows we’ve left.”
With that, Isabella hammered tight the lid on her stupid conscience and threw caution to the wind in exchange for a roll in the figurative hay with a man who’d better be hung like a horse.
Oh, God, did she just think that?
Chapter Nineteen
Isabella stared at the cock—no, the clock—trying to figure out what the hell she was going to do. It would be so easy to just reach down to that cock—not the clock—and start anew. As she played back what happened once they got to Sawyer’s place, she smiled.
It figures a chef would include food in his foreplay, she thought, replaying the heated drizzle of chocolate across her pelvis. And his warm, textured tongue as it lapped at the chocolate and lapped at her with equal fervor, bringing her over the edge with so little effort, almost made her regret she hadn’t given him more of a challenge. But then, who would be the loser there? This way, she was all ready for orgasms number two, three, and four, God willing.
The two of them were well matched to tangle in bed: Isabella would no sooner think she was in control when Sawyer would flip her over, lifting her hips and burying his face in her from behind. That was the first time he finally slipped into her desperately needy body, his hands tight on her hips, pulling her up on all fours while spreading her knees apart to give him better access. Sawyer was big and wide, and as he slid into her warm, wet center she gasped with pleasure. At first, he didn’t move, seating himself deep inside her, but then he reached one hand around to play with her breast and the other to work her clit while pressing his fingers through her slickness where the two of them were joined. It didn’t take long until Isabella came with a loud groan, followed seconds later by Sawyer stilling deep inside her, releasing long and hard into her warm body.
~*~
She sighed. What a dilemma. That was some seriously amazing sex she’d just had. And had. And had some more. And she could likely add that to her daily schedule if she played her cards right. And here he was, right there. At her disposal to start all over again.
But how could she do that? No way in a million years could she be in a relationship with Sawyer. Imagine! The tabloids would have a veritable field day. That cake thing would be resurrected for all eternity. And more than likely, that evil Amelie would materialize after all these years with hidden camera footage of the embarrassing episode that Sawyer’s presence would only remind her of again and again.
She quietly extricated herself from the tangle of sheets and Sawyer’s warm hand that was resting possessively on her stomach. It was time to make like Cinderella and vamoose before she had too much ’splaining to do. She tiptoed through his apartment—with its spectacular view of the harbor—in search of her belongings, which weren’t many, considering she hadn’t even worn underwear with that dress. She shimmied into her wrinkled dress—talk about walk-of-shame-wear—looped her sandals over her finger, and slithered out, quiet as a snake, unnoticed.
Once she was safely out of earshot, she dialed Clementine’s number on her phone.
“Mmm?” Clementine said, incomprehensibly.
“Get here now!” Isabella said in a loud whisper.
“Huh? What?”
“It’s me, Bella. I need you to come get me, like now!”
“But, Bell, I’m so cozy in bed. And Sebastian is all curled up around me, and he’s so warm. Call Uber. They’ll get there faster than I could.”
“I can’t call Uber for a ride of shame back to the palace!” she said with a hiss. “This is all your doing so the least you can do is come save me.”
“What? From round two?”
Bella paused. “Good lord,” she said, counting on her hand. “If you must know it would technically be round six. Now, get your butt over here and rescue me before I end up with uncomfortable chafing in embarrassing places and absolutely zero self-respect remaining!”
“Wait,” Clem said. “Remind me why this is my fault?”
“Because you hired the man! Now hurry, before he realizes I’ve slipped away and comes after me!”
Chapter Twenty
He should’ve known she’d pull a runner. Nothing about Isabella was going to be easy. She’d made that abundantly clear at this point. So clear that he really wondered why he’d want to make himself crazy pursuing her. But then one thought about the many ways in which he pleasured her—and she him—over the last several hours, and he knew he’d go to the ends of the earth to try to get even five more minutes with her. The princess was a sexy little minx.
God, why did she have to make this such a damned production. They’d had an amazing time of it, and it was criminal to stop at this point and not see where things could go.
He rolled over and pondered this latest turn of events, one hand behind his head, the other resting on his stomach as he cleared the cobwebs from his brain, and things started to come back to him in vivid detail. Chocolate sauce, of course. But any self-respecting pastry chef knew that that was for rookies. Naturally, he had to one-up himself there, so at about two in the morning, he whipped up a batch of gooey meringue, which he remembered slathering across her breasts and licking them clean. Princess as pastry. How could she pass that up again, he wondered.
It was going to take some clever initiatives on his part if he was ever going to advance to any more food-as-foreplay with Isabella, but damn, he was determined to do it. He wondered if last night meant there was an ongoing truce declared, that she wasn’t planning to destroy him professionally. That would be an upside, but he needed more than just that. He needed more of what he had just a few hours ago. But at least maybe he could pursue it while not going bankrupt.
His train of thought was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.
“Sawyer here,” he said as he turned on his phone and set it to speaker, resting it on his chest.
“Hello, handsome,” Gabriella said. “I hope you had a good time last night.”
Crap, what did everyone know? Surely, they didn’t get it out of Princess this quickly.
“It was a great party, Gab,” he said. “Thanks so much for inviting me.”
“Looked like you and Isabella hit it off quite nicely,” she said.
“I think we were able to get over our differences,” he said. And under, and around, and in. “And it looked like things were heating up between you and that large man who looked like he might want to hurt someone if they weren’t careful.”
“Awww, Edouardo’s just a little kitten. He doesn’t know his own strength.”
Kitten. That gave him an idea.<
br />
“So the two of you, then?” He made some hubba hubba sounds, suggesting they had their own little “meeting of the minds.”.
“You know I don’t kiss and tell, Sawyer.”
“You sure did a lot at university.”
She laughed. “That was then. This is now. Besides, he’s different.”
“Because?”
“We knew each other as children. Edouardo took special care of me when we were young. Once, when we got lost in the woods, he gave up his coat for me, then lay on top of me to keep me warm until my parents found us.”
“Nowadays they call that having sex in the woods.”
“Stop! It was perfectly innocent. We were only like ten years old.”
“You sure were sophisticated for your age, then.”
“So he asked me out for a date.”
“When you were ten? Or now?”
“Now, silly!”
“Are you going?”
She sighed. “I don’t know, Sawyer. I mean I’m kind of tired of broken relationships, you know what I mean?”
“Who’s to say that will be the case? He seemed like he adored you. Maybe this is just what you need.”
“What I don’t need is to get my hopes up only to find out he’s got a wife and kids in another country.”
“That happened with the last one?”
“Not that extreme, but I’m sure that’s the type of thing I’m doomed for next time around.”
“Chin up, Gabs,” Sawyer said. “It’s not all gloom and doom. If you ask me, the man seems pretty interested in you.”
“I guess I’ll just play that one low-key and not put my heart and soul into it for a change,” she said. “But meantime, in my ongoing efforts to get you together with as many women as possible in Monaforte, I have someone for you to meet. She’s new to town and I think you’ll really like her a lot.”
Sawyer scrunched his nose. “Thanks, but I don’t think so, Gabriella. I’m kind of busy right now with work, and—”
“You won’t be pretty soon if Isabella remains on the warpath.”
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