"We could do something in the morning on Friday, maybe?" I asked. "I'm free all day on Friday."
"I really wanted to cook you dinner, though," he said wistfully. "Let me text my boss and find out my hours for next week, okay? I'll still be here, just give me a sec."
"Sure," I said, wrapping my arms around my knees as I waited, entertaining vivid fantasies of Kostas' arms and the rest of him, too.
Gods, Kostas had nice arms. Thinking about them made my mouth go dry. All that toned muscle was almost too much to handle, even in my thoughts. Gideon had a similar build, of that I was positive. But the clothing he wore was always tastefully tailored.
Which isn't to say that Kostas' clothing was distasteful. There was just something a bit more rugged about it. Rough. Untamed. I could see his forearms. See the veins covering them.
I was at the mercy of my vivid imagination only when it came to Gideon's arms.
Kostas was a bike courier, so I imagined his legs must be even better than his arms. I knew his ass wasn't anything to scoff at either—not that I intended to scoff at it.
I was in so much trouble.
I wasn't the least bit sure what I'd do on an actual date with Kostas.
While I'd hung out with Gideon for the few days he'd been in Justana, I couldn't really classify what we'd done as 'dates'. We'd gone to a public event with our parents in attendance, and then we'd gone for a stroll through the palace gardens -- and hardly a private one. Not exactly red-hot romantic escapades.
But with Kostas, it would be different. I could just tell. It even felt different; from the way I was sneaking around to do it, and where it was going to be.
We'd be alone. At his apartment. He wanted to cook for me.
Having one hundred percent of his attention seemed daunting. I was liable to melt into a puddle on the floor and that would be that.
If we were alone, he might try to kiss me. That thought both scared and exhilarated me. I've been kissed before, obviously.
"Hey, are you still there?" he asked. "I'm back."
"I'm here," I replied, my voice sounding a little bit breathier than before.
"Awesome," he replied. "Looks like I'm working every night next week except Wednesday. Would that work for you?"
I sighed heavily. "That's no good, I'm going to a play with my mother."
"Hmm…" he mused," What night would work, maybe I could trade for it?"
"You'd do that for me?" I asked, unable to stop the blush from creeping up my cheeks.
"Of course I would," he replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You're worth a little schedule shuffling, believe me."
"Okay, well… how does Monday work for you?" I asked.
"I don't know. I'll have to ask around and see who has Monday off," Kostas replied. "But tentatively, that works."
"It does?"
"It does. Would you like to join me over at my place for dinner on Monday? Maybe drinks after?"
"Yes," I said. "Yes, I really would. "
Dinner and drinks? At his apartment? My heart raced.
It was funny: there were so many porny tropes out there that were about deflowering a princess. Yet, here I was, twenty-two and still holding my 'flower', so to speak.
It never really bothered me before. I figured I wouldn't die a virgin. But now? Now, I wish I was more experienced.
I thought about what it might be like if I was just a normal person. A normal woman could never have dated Gideon, but she could have dated Kostas.
Though I supposed if I was a normal woman in this scenario, Gideon could be a normal man as well.
I could have been someone they'd meet anywhere. A normal woman who had normal experiences. Who knew what to do with the equipment they were packing in their pants. A woman who could walk into a room wearing a robe and nothing else, let it slide from my shoulders, who knew enough to not blush under a heated gaze, to straddle a man's hips and take him somewhere. Anywhere. The thought of doing any of that had me quivering in places I didn't know could quiver.
And yet…
I cursed my own innocence because I didn't know where I'd take him, this hypothetical everyman that fluctuated between having Gideons' brown eyes and Kostas' steel blue. I didn't know how to take him there. It made me want to scream into a pillow.
Because Kostas' voice—just his voice—on the phone? It did things to me. And I wanted to tell him that, but every time I practiced saying it, the words sounded foreign in my mouth.
"Your voice is sexy. It makes me want to rip all my clothes off…"
It sounded so stupid and desperate.
The thought of hearing those words come out of my mouth made me want to implode. Just cease to exist. Shrink up into a single cell and disappear.
"Do you have to go find someone to switch with you now?" I asked, laying back on the pillows.
"No, I can do that at work tomorrow," he replied. "Did you want to talk for longer?"
"Yeah… yeah, I do. "
"What do you wanna talk about, babe?"
Grinning, I tried to think of something. "Tell me about your day?"
"Well," his voice rumbled. "I had to deliver this super heavy package today. It was so small, but I swear to the gods it weighed like fifty pounds…"
Even though the subject matter was innocuous, I couldn't help the ache that pulsed between my legs. I rolled onto my side, pressing a pillow there to help relieve it.
"Why did you have it if it was so heavy?" I asked. I shouldn't be getting this worked up when he was simply telling me about his day. Shouldn't be, but I was.
I wondered if he thought about me like that. If anything I did was as remotely attractive as anything he did. I couldn't imagine it being true. He couldn't possibly want me as much as I wanted him.
"Vi, I have no idea, I asked the same thing. Shoulda been in a truck, but no one believed me it was that heavy, so there ya go…" he trailed off. "Hey, can I tell you something?"
"Anything."
"I like the way your voice sounds over the phone. Like it in person too, but…" His voice dropped slightly when he continued. "I really like it over the phone."
I wasn't really able to find said voice for a few seconds. "Really?" I finally croaked.
"Yeah," he laughed softly. "Kind of a stupid thing to say, but here I am."
"I don't think it's stupid."
Okay, maybe he wanted me at least a little.
The date finally did transpire. And on the following Monday night, as suggested, too.
By some magical luck, it just so happened that Amanda and George had that night off. I wondered how much fate had to do with that little coincidence. Not that I was going to turn down a gift like this, if that's indeed what it was.
I'd been invited over to Kostas' apartment for our long awaited dinner. Dinner. He was cooking me dinner, and I'd finally been able to accept.
I was so excited and nervous that I could just puke.
"Sorry about the…" Kostas trailed off, as if unsure why he was apologizing. "Neighborhood."
My eyebrows shot up. "What? What's wrong with the neighborhood?" I turned to look out the window to where I'd parked my car across the street.
"Nothing, I just…" He clapped his hands together. "I was apologizing needlessly because I'm nervous." He laughed.
So I laughed as well. Or at least made a couple of inelegant sounds that could technically be categorized as laughing.
"Why are you nervous?" I asked, shrugging off my coat, which he took from me. He carefully hung it on one of the hooks by the door.
"Oh, I don't know. It couldn't be that I invited the Crown Princess over for dinner, could it?" He chuckled again. I, again, did the same, silently chastising myself for being so unbelievably awkward. I pressed my lips together and looked down, fiddling with my watch as I checked out his apartment.
Kostas reached for me, almost on a whim since we hadn't really done this before. We'd talked about it on the phone, but we hadn't been afforded
an opportunity for an actual facts embrace before now. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close. He inhaled the scent of my hair.
And then I utterly and irrevocably ruined the mood.
"I have to get married," I blurted.
His arms didn't loosen around me, but he pulled back so he could look down into my eyes. "What, right now?"
"No!" I exclaimed, looking up at him with what were surely watery eyes. "I mean… I'm in the process of choosing a husband. Right now. It's actually between the two princes of Etria."
Kostas chuckled. "I know that, Vi."
"You do?" Relief began to wash over me, leaving me feeling warm and comfortable, instead of the panicky-doubt I'd been feeling since I'd blurted out my future-nuptial plans.
"I read the news, believe it or not. And I know this can't be…" Kostas trailed off and shrugged. "I mean, I wish it could be, but I'm no fool, Violet. I know our time is limited."
My relief was short-lived. My heart had just broken in two. I wanted it too. I wished it could be. But then I wouldn't be able to be with Gideon.
I swallowed thickly, trying to push Gideon out of my mind for the moment. I didn't succeed, but I did shrink him down to the size of a mouse and shoved him against the far back wall of my mind.
Kostas continued," Besides, I'm the one who clearly flubbed everything up by not proclaiming my love for you when your limo hit my bike."
"What?" I asked, laughing.
"That was clearly a meet-cute of rom-com levels. I messed up and we lost time because of it." He reached up to boop the tip of my nose with his index finger. "Now, if you'll allow me to go out to the kitchen, I'll cook you dinner."
I loosened my hold on him, but he didn't leave. He just leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.
He grinned, resting his forehead against mine for a moment. "I'm sorry… your lips looked so kissable, I couldn't help it. I'm just worried you'll leave once you see what a deplorable cook I am and I won't get my chance to kiss you later…"
I laughed out loud, feeling instantly lighter as I returned his kiss. I could probably float away like an overly-inflated Mylar balloon. Compartmentalizing probably wasn't the healthiest way to go about my dilemma, but it wasn't the worst way either. "You can't be any worse a cook than me."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that. That was some fancy onion-mincing you were doing at the shelter. And I know I can slice a mean carrot, but believe it or not, it takes more than that to make a meal. Unless you're a rabbit, that is."
"I'm definitely not a rabbit. What are we having?"
"Well, I was planning to cook you the only thing I am decently good at preparing: omelets. I realize it is dinner I asked you to and not brunch, but I figured that I would play to my strengths."
"I love omelets. I'm already impressed," I replied, beaming.
"Anything to impress you, honestly. And by 'impress', I mean feed you something edible. My omelets are edible."
He'd apparently gone grocery shopping that afternoon on his way home from work, the bags were still out on the counter. He'd gotten mushrooms, swiss cheese, scallions and tiny grape tomatoes. I had high hopes for something yummy coming from them.
"You wanna chop these in half?" he asked, handing me the box of grape tomatoes.
I agreed, it was a simple enough task.
It might have seemed simple, but it was a whole lot more difficult with him occupying the same space as me. His scent kept wafting over from the other side of the counter where he was standing, and I couldn't help but glance over at him. Checking him out in his perfectly snug jeans and a soft jersey cotton t-shirt that looked it needed me to rub my cheek against it.
My skin felt tingly when he was around. Like there was some kind of electric current running between us, attached to my every nerve and keeping me on edge and just two ticks past horny.
He could probably have demanded sex right then and I'd have complied Just a snap of his fingers and I would agree to do anything for him, regardless of my nerves over my inexperience.
Not that he would have. He was being the perfect gentleman.
I swore as a tomato rolled off across the cutting board.
"You okay?" he asked, starting to move towards me.
"It just slipped," I covered as I sent him a reassuring smile.
Dinner turned out fine, despite my distracted contributions. He served me a meticulously prepared omelet with 'the works', as I had requested. His own was a little overdone, but he didn't seem care because all he did was watch me eat. I couldn't have told what the eggs tasted like, though. What did it matter what they tasted like when I could run my foot up and down his calf, rucking up his pants leg under the kitchen table?
I insisted on helping him clean up, drying the dishes as he washed them. My mother would have probably clutched her pearls if she could see me right now. The princess of Justana in a bicycle courier's kitchen, drying the dishes. Barefoot, because my shoes had been kicked off to play footsie.
Kostas had strawberries already cut up in a container in the fridge for our dessert. He'd been planning on covering them in chocolate and serving them, but we started eating them before the chocolate even made it to the microwave to melt.
I fed him one, inhaling sharply when his lips brushed against my fingertips. The look in his eyes had me wanting him even more, if that was possible. My eyes watched his tongue as it darted out to lick the juice from his lips.
He leaned forward, reaching over to brush a lock of hair from my face. The soft, chestnut strands caught on his calloused fingertips as he tucked it behind my ear. His eyes searched for my gaze and held it.
"Do you want one?" he asked, holding out a strawberry.
I nodded and he raised it up to my mouth, pressing it softly between my lips. He had to hold back a groan when I took a bite. The juice ran down my chin and I started to reach for a napkin, but he wouldn't let me. He saw an opportunity, and he took it.
"I'll get it," he promised, leaning in to press his lips to the corner of my mouth.
I reached for him, my hands groping around the back of his neck and into his hair.
He pulled gently at my lips, restraining himself as much as he could. I had half a mind to devour his beautiful mouth, but it seemed too soon for those kinds of shenanigans. His breath huffed out of his nose when I parted my lips. Only slightly. Enough to tease the hell out of him. I could just taste the strawberry he'd eaten.
The kiss was sweet, but there was something else there too. Something that tugged at my gut and settled like a smoldering burn in the cradle of my hips.
"Was that okay?" he asked, licking his lips as he leaned back, searching my face.
I nodded. "That was—that was fine. Great. Perfect. I…" I blushed crimson, my cheeks heating up as he smiled fondly at me.
"Couldn't have said it better myself." He leaned back in, letting his hand slide up the back of my neck and into my hair, anchoring me against him as his mouth plucked and plundered mine. I steadied myself by grabbing his shoulders, a small moan escaping when his tongue brushed against my parted lips.
He slid his other hand up my side, moving deftly upwards until it was resting right beneath my bra. His thumb barely nudged the underwire. The soft fabric of my blouse was cool, contrasting with the warmth of his hand touching me.
"Wait," I murmured. "Wait."
Alarmed, he moved his hand immediately, taking a step away from me. "I'm sorry," he apologized immediately. "Was that too much? I'm so sorry."
I gulped down my fear, hoping I hadn't just irrevocably damaged anything between us. "No. I just… I just…" I visibly swallowed before continuing. "Kissing is all I've—"
"We can just kiss. That's fine," he assured me, reaching over tentatively to brush the hair from my face again.
"No, I mean, kissing is all I've ever done. I've never…" I trailed off and looked down.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wait. Are you kidding me?"
I shook my head.
> "But, how old are you?"
I frowned," I'm twenty-two, not that it matters…"
"I just…Vi…I assumed you would have…that maybe you'd…I mean…" He shrugged, at a lost for words.
My face fell. I pressed my lips together, eyes blinking repeatedly, wetting my eyelashes as I panicked momentarily. The last thing I wanted was to cry.
"I'm not judging," he assured me, leaning over to press his lips to mine again. "Just let me know when to stop and I promise, I won't ever go past that point."
I brightened, sniffing and pressing my lips together to hold back a grin. I leaned up and pecked his lips, lingering there for a few seconds.
"Well," I drawled, raking my fingers through his hair. "I'm not opposed to taking things slowly, so maybe we can just see where this goes?"
His jaw dropped momentarily. "You'd trust me with something like that?" I nodded, holding his gaze and liking what I saw there. "I mean, is that even allowed?"
"Well, technically, this isn't even allowed." I gestured vaguely around his kitchen and between the two of us. "And we didn't let that stop us, did we?"
"I keep forgetting that you're breaking rules to be here."
I winked.
"That is so hot." He grinned and leaned in to kiss me again.
I couldn't believe this was happening. While it had been a fantasy I'd played out in my head multiple times, it wasn't ever something I considered would become a reality. Yet, there I was, making out with Kostas in his kitchen. Tasting the sweet tartness of the strawberries we'd eaten. Sucking on the tip of his tongue as he slid it into my mouth.
The burning ache between my thighs was impossible to ignore, as was the stiff evidence of Kostas' arousal, poking me in the hip.
"Maybe we should go sit down?" I suggested, breaking off the kiss and looking out from the kitchenette and into the main area of his apartment. There was a very comfortable-looking sofa in the living room.
"Sofa?," he asked. His voice had taken on a gravelly tone. It sent a jolt that traveled straight between my legs, pooling there like liquid fire. He licked his lips again. Lips that were red. Swollen from my attention. I'd done that.
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