My Bossy Protector: A Best Friend’s Brother Romance

by Charlize Starr

“Yes, the prince is expecting you,” the man said, motioning for me to come along. I hugged three more strangers and then followed him, feeling like my heart was pulsing and pounding out into my fingers.

  The man led me behind a curtain and I saw him for the first time. Prince Tristan.

  The first thing I thought was, I’ll have to tell Gretchen she was right, she’ll love that, because Prince Tristan was gorgeous. Intensely, sharply attractive, with bright eyes and a perfect jawline.

  The second was, This man wants me?, because I was sure for a second there must be some sort of mistake. Until I saw it in his eyes. Prince Tristan was looking at me like he couldn’t get enough of me, like he wanted me. His gaze was as intense as everything else about him seemed to be, and it made me feel as if I couldn’t breathe.

  “Ella, meet Prince Tristan, Crown Prince of Ladoria,” the red-faced man said. I bowed, and then curtsied, not sure which was proper.

  “It’s an honor,” I said. Prince Tristan grinned, wide and dazzling.

  “Believe me, the pleasure is mine, Ella,” he said, taking a few steps toward me. I had to suppress a shiver, looking at him, listening to the way he said my name, the way he said pleasure.

  “Please sit, so we can go over the rules,” the man said. Tristan smiled at me again and pulled a chair out for me. His eyes traced the contours of my body as I sat, lingering over my dress, my thighs. He looked as though he was trying to see under my dress, like he was imagining what was there. I wanted to stay under his eyes and let him keep looking, even though I knew I shouldn’t. I knew I should feel objectified, but all I felt was turned on.

  Prince Tristan pulled his chair close to mine, so close we were almost touching as the man who seemed to be in charge began to speak.

  “You will have a trial period of two days and two nights together. You must complete these days. After they are over, you will both decide if you want to continue. If either of you declines, the relationship will be over and you will not be permitted to contact each other again.”

  “Two days and two nights?” I asked. I could still feel the prince’s eyes on me, and I liked it. Two days and two nights were not bad, I thought. I could spend two days with this man, this gorgeous, sexy man.

  “When?” Prince Tristan asked. His voice was rough and deep, and I thought it matched him, suited his face.

  “Whenever you choose, sir,” the man said, placing documents on the table in front of us. I looked them over, nodding. I held the university record for the top grade in contract law ever acquired, and this one seemed pretty straightforward, just what the man had said. I thought about school, about my family, about Frederick, and the Prince sitting next to me, looking at me like I was sexy and beautiful. I thought of Gretchen telling me to let myself have adventures. I thought of nights in my room, bored and frustrated and lonely, wanting an outlet, wanting to have experiences and not just thoughts.

  I picked up the pen and signed.

  “Tomorrow,” Tristan said, eyes still burning into me, “come tomorrow at six.”

  “I will be here,” I said. The whole thing should have still made me uncomfortable, but looking into Prince Tristan’s face, I felt intrigued. In spite of myself, I wanted to see where these two days went.

  Chapter Six - Tristan

  Every minute of the day dragged on in a seemingly endless fashion. I never cared about meetings or budgets or policies, to begin with, and today, with my mind on only Ella, it was worse. Jonathan, the finance minister, was droning on and on about the benefits of a new plan, something about tax dollars and an unused plot of land, but I wasn't listening. I was only here because these sorts of things needed my signature. As crown prince, I had to sign off on all long-term plans for Ladoria. Which meant I had to sit through meeting after boring meeting about ideas that weren’t even mine.

  “Sir?” Jonathan said, giving me a nervous look, “are you prepared to sign?”

  “You know, I think I need a few things first,” I said. After this meeting, I had to go to one on agriculture, and then on roadway infrastructure, neither of which I was looking forward to. Maybe, if I stretched this meeting out, I wouldn’t have time for the other meetings.

  “You want to know more details?” Jonathan asked. He sounded surprised, and he looked around the room at other council members instead of at me.

  “I want more coffee and a sandwich. I can’t sign anything until I have them,” I said, crossing my arms. I wondered what Ella was doing. If she was nervous, if somewhere in the village she was making those same faces she’d made on stage. I couldn’t wait to see her, to talk to her, to touch her. I wanted to run my hands on her perfect skin, trace the lines I found there, hear the sounds she’d made. I wanted to lick her neck and suck on her collarbone until red splotches bloomed across her. I wanted to know the noises she’d make when I kissed her, when I pulled her in close and felt her body pressed against mine. I wondered if she’d tremble, or make little sounds.

  I wanted to put my hands on her curves, cup her breasts, her ass. I wanted to see her eyes get wide as I lifted her dress, touched her thighs, and--

  I sat up in my seat, hard in my pants thinking about it, about Ella.

  “We’re taking a break,” I said, needing to be somewhere private.

  “Sir, we cannot,” Jonathan started. I could tell he was angry and frustrated, but I didn’t care.

  “A break starting now,” I said, cutting him off, “I expect coffee here when I return.”

  I left the room quickly. I headed to my private chambers and closed the door. I didn’t want anyone else around while I thought about Ella. While I imagined it, the things that could happen in the next few days. I wondered again if she and Christa were one and the same. If she was, I knew a few things she’d love me to do, things I’d be more than happy to do. I unzipped my pants, thinking about Ella in the dress she’d worn yesterday, the way it had hugged her and showed her off, thinking about how fucking beautiful she was.

  I took my cock in my hand, touching myself slowly, thinking about Ella and Christa, putting Ella’s face and body with Christa’s words. Last week, Christa had described in detail a fantasy she had of a man seeing how many times in a row she could come, holding her down and touching her over and over until she was spent, until she was too sensitive to take it anymore. I’d gotten off to it then too, jerked myself off staring at the words on my computer screen.

  I thought now about Ella, about holding her down, putting my fingers in her, making her cry out and arch, feeling how soaked she’d be. Hearing the sounds that pretty mouth of hers would make when I touched her, stroked her. I wanted to feel it, wanted her to buck up against my hand as I touched her, wanted her to come around my fingers, wanted her to scream my name.

  I picked up speed stroking myself, with my back pressed against my wall, desperate and sweating as I pictured her. I wanted her all spread out for me, wanted to touch her, make her writhe under my hands, my tongue. I had to know how she’d look when she came, how she’d look when I fucked her, how she’d taste when I licked her, how she’d look with my cock in her mouth. I worked myself hard and fast, coming in my own hand so quickly I felt like a teenager.

  Fuck. I wanted her to be thinking about me, too.

  I decided to make sure she was. I cleaned myself off with a towel and then grabbed my phone. The number I’d been given for her was temporary and would only work during the trial. I wasn’t supposed to contact her at all until she arrived, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I dialed her number, feeling disappointed when it went to voicemail.

  Hi! You’ve reached Ella. I can’t come to my phone right now, so leave me a message and I’ll do my best to get back to you right away!

  I grinned and left a message, speaking in low whispers on purpose.

  Ella. It’s Tristan. I wanted you to know that I’m really looking forward to our time together. I’ve been thinking about you all day. I hope you’ve been thinking about me. If you have, wear a sexy dress tonight, somet
hing tight. And don’t wear underwear.

  I hung up when I was done and decided I had to know. I had to know if Ella was Christa. I called Peter, the most reliable member of my security team, and ordered him to find out.

  My coffee was hot and waiting when I got back to the meeting, but I was still only thinking about Ella.

  Chapter Seven - Ella

  I couldn’t believe I was back at the castle again, this time in a dress I’d borrowed from Gretchen. A dress I was wearing just for Prince Tristan, a dress with nothing underneath. I felt daring in it, bold, sexy. Like someone a prince could be interested it. I didn’t know if it was true, if I was those things, but listening to Tristan’s message several times had given me the best kind of nerves, the excited ones.

  I wasn’t sure what I was signing on for, what I was up for. If Tristan wanted to have sex with me tonight, was I ready for that? Was I prepared to have sex with this man I didn’t even know? Would he even want to have sex with me knowing I was a virgin, inexperienced and unconfident? Would I know what to do? Did I even want to? What about Frederick?

  I shook all these questions out of my mind and decided to see where the night took me. I was probably ahead of myself. Prince Tristan would probably find me boring after spending more time with me, would probably not even want me. I took a breath and followed a servant to a small room.

  “Hello, miss,” a tall woman in a lab coat said when I walked in. The servant walked back out and the woman in the lab coat motioned me to a table.

  “What’s going on?” I said although I had a sinking feeling I knew. In Ladorian law, there was a marriage stipulation, an old one that, much like the festival, no one had never thought to change. It stated that only a virgin could marry royalty. I thought, irrationally, of so many nights with my face in my own pillows, desperately pushing my own fingers inside myself, making myself come in the quiet of my bedroom. I wondered if this doctor would be able to tell. I knew that was ridiculous.

  “I’m Dr. Teler, and this is a simple and quick test,” the doctor said, pulling out a rod shaped object. “I know this is invasive, but by law, I have to check if you’re a virgin.”

  “Okay,” I said, nodding and wanting to get it over with quickly. I spread my legs open wide, embarrassed to not be wearing underwear.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  I nodded again and winced as I felt the object slide into me. It was cold, but smooth and small. I gulped at the sensation. Dr. Teler left it still for a few seconds, and then pulled it back out slowly, and smiled at me.

  “Looks like I don’t even have to lie on the form,” she said, putting the probe into a plastic bag and removing her glove.

  “Oh, that’s it?” I said, flushing, not sure if I was glad or mortified the test had known.

  “That’s it,” she said, “go on up now, he’s expecting you.”

  She started filling out paperwork, and I got up, pulling my dress back down and trying to calm the flush I knew was on my cheeks. A servant was waiting for me outside the door, and I followed him up the stairs and into a beautiful room.

  There was a bed and a small table in the middle, with candles and food and Prince Tristan himself, who was smiling broadly at me.

  “Ready for dinner?” he asked, getting up to pull out a chair for me.

  “Yes,” I said, nodding. His eyes traced my body contours again, lingering even longer than they had the day before. I shuddered and bit my lip.

  “You look beautiful,” he said, sitting back down across from me. The servant excused himself, leaving us alone.

  “Thank you,” I said, feeling color on my cheeks again.

  “Let’s have a toast, to this trial,” Tristan said, raising his glass. I lifted mine too and clinked my glass with his. His gaze made me feel studied and exposed. It made me feel alive.

  “To the trial,” I said, bringing the glass back to my mouth and taking a long sip of the sweet wine inside.

  “I want to know all about you,” he said, after a long gulp of his own wine.

  “About me?” I said. The meat in front of me looked tender, and the sauce smelled delicious. I cut it into small bites, trying to be bold and clever, to make the most of this. “I don’t know how much there is to tell.”

  “I doubt that,” he said, “right now all I know is that you’re incredibly sexy. Tell me more.”

  “I study law,” I said, and he grinned, beginning to eat his food.

  “Smart and beautiful, what else?” he said.

  “I live at home, with my mother and younger brother,” I said. “When I was young, I thought I’d be out on my own by now. I wanted to see the world. But I’ve hardly seen much of Ladoria. They needed me at home, so I stayed,” I said, not sure why I was telling him so much.

  “Me too,” Tristan said, a wry smile on his stunning features. “I haven’t seen much outside the walls of this castle. Unless I’m sneaking into the village, I never get out.”

  “Really? I would have thought--” I stopped and bit my lip. “I would have thought you would have traveled, or gone to school in another kingdom, at least.”

  “Private tutors right here,” Tristan said, shaking his head.

  “Why?” I asked, honestly curious. I always thought of royalty as well-traveled, seeing distant lands to make peace agreements and blend cultures.

  “Security. I’ve been next in line for the throne since the day I was born, and,” Tristan said, stopping to whisper the next bit, leaning close, “years back, there was an heir to the throne who was kidnapped as a baby. The queen did not have any other boys, and Ladoria was nearly ruined.”

  “Was the baby ever found?” I asked, wondering why I had never heard this story in school. I had studied the history of Ladoria fairly extensively, so this seemed like something I should have come across.

  “The body was,” Tristan said, frowning.

  “Oh,” I said, wincing.

  “That was how my mother came to inherit the crown. That baby was her brother,” Tristan said. “It has led to a lot of fears. My parents see enemies everywhere. So I was hidden away for most of my life.”

  “I had no idea,” I said. He must have been so lonely, being so isolated. I wanted to reach for his hand, but it felt too familiar, too informal, so I took another long gulp of wine instead.

  “No one does,” Tristan said, shrugging. The gesture was casual but his eyes were still intense, boring into me.

  “So you’ve never left?” I asked. He shook his head slowly.

  “Never,” he said, “what about you?”

  “No,” I said, smiling a little, “when I was young I used to race. I was really good at it, I was really fast, and I loved it, and I thought maybe one day I’d be a professional and travel the world to compete.”

  “Do you still run?” Tristan asked.

  “I haven’t in years,” I said. There had been a time when I had thought that if I ran fast enough, I could change my whole life. Now, I was sitting in a palace, across from a prince, a drastic change to my life, but one I had not even asked for.

  “You’re not running now. Do you ever want to run away?” Tristan asked. He said it low and loaded like he was talking about more than races. Like he was talking about this, the trial, him, and maybe the things the evening could lead to.

  “I think I’m done running,” I said, holding his eyes.

  “Good,” he said, a small smile on his lips. I wondered if it was true, if I really was done running, if I was really prepared for everything this conversation might lead to. Looking across the table at him, I thought I was.

  We talked more as we ate, Tristan’s eyes still on me, watching me. I told him about my studies, my professors, my mother, and Gretchen. He told me about a favorite tutor of his and what bars he liked to sneak to in the village. The more we talked, the more comfortable I felt with him, with letting my eyes linger on him, on his handsome face, his muscled arms, and his broad shoulders.

  After dinner, plates were cleared by serva
nts who moved in a flurry. The whole time I felt Tristan’s eyes on me, more intense than ever. Once we were alone, he stepped toward me.

  “Ella,” he said, “is this the dress you’re wearing for me?”

  “Yes,” I said, flushing. He stepped even closer, so close we were almost touching. “I thought about this, about you,” I admitted.

  “It’s perfect,” he said, “but I think you’ve had it on long enough.”

  “Oh,” I said, in a single breath, feeling like there was air caught in my throat. I stepped toward him and nodded. There were a million reasons not to do this, but under his gaze, I couldn’t remember any of them. I was already turned on, and I wanted him to touch me, wanted him to do anything he wanted.

  “You don’t have to do anything. There is no one here but us,” Tristan said, putting a hand on my shoulder and playing with the strap of my dress, “but if you want to--”

  “Yes,” I said, feeling bold, letting myself be bold. Tristan smiled, and then took the straps of my dress, pulled them down, tugging my dress to the floor.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, running his hands down my arms before sliding a hand up my ribs, to my breasts. “And tonight, you are going to live your fantasies. Tonight, I am going to make sure you never forget me.”

  He put a hand on the small of my back, pulling me toward him and kissing me hard.

  Forgetting him was the last thing I was ever going to be able to do.

  Chapter Eight - Tristan

  She was the sexiest thing I had ever seen, standing there, naked in front of me, eyes wide and skin flushed. It was almost more than I could take. I wanted her more than ever, wanted to take her, wanted to make her mine. I kissed her, crushing her pretty mouth against mine, feeling her soft lips sigh and open against my mouth. I tugged on her as we kissed, pulling her toward my bed, feeling hungry for her.

  Her hands were on my chest, and they were shaking. I grabbed them as we sat on the bed, encircling her wrist with my hands. I kissed her again, pulling her closer and closer and leaning her back on the bed, feeling her shudder beneath me. I had to touch her, had to have more of her. I traced my hand down her arms, to her stomach, and up to her chest, cupping a hand around her breast. I flicked a thumb over her nipple and she gasped and nodded her head rapidly.