by Kim Karr
“Because you’re not listening.”
He slammed a hand against the wall above my head and glared at me with ruthless hatred. “And I never will. In fact, I never want to see your face, ever again.”
I knew right then that I’d lost him. Nothing I could say or do was going to change our dire situation.
With no other choice, I pushed past him and walked away. I felt utterly devastated as I ran to my room. Once there, I held onto the edge of the bathroom countertop and just stared at myself. Stomach-churning, I whispered, “What have I done?”
The cameramen were waiting outside. They wanted me to let them in, but I couldn’t. This wasn’t newsworthy.
The producer soon told me Rainer threatened to sue me if I didn’t do what I had promised.
He could sue me.
He could take all I had.
I didn’t care about myself.
The truth was, I was a failure.
However, I did care that the man I loved thought I didn’t love him. I wanted to fix that. I asked Joe to take me to him. He wouldn’t. He said he’d already left.
I was too late.
No matter what, I knew I would never write a story about Julius and me, and that I’d do whatever I could to soften the blow of my deceit when it aired on national television.
In the end, it never did air.
How or why I was not privy to.
Back home, I gave the evil man who sent me to the States back his contract and refused his money in exchange for his silence. It turned out, after everything, he didn’t want his undermining told to the world.
You see, he had already moved on to a new plan. One to take over the world, and it included marrying a Queen. A Queen he knew would not look fondly on his endeavor to ruin a fellow royal.
Too bad the fellow royal was already ruined.
By me.
A FOOL
3 Years Earlier
I’d been duped.
Fell in love with a woman I thought was made for me, only to find out she was fabricated for me instead.
Stuck in the back of a limousine, my heart was about to pound out of my chest. Cameras were positioned so close to my face, and I wanted to toss each one out of the car.
One by one, and then run over them.
The production team had been with us for twelve weeks, though, and we had all grown close. This wasn’t their fault, so the last thing I wanted to do was drag them under with me.
“Hey, Julius man,” one the crew said, “What’s going on? What happened?”
They didn’t fucking know the truth.
Joe, the producer, had kept it to himself.
Realizing this, I put my hand over my mouth and didn’t say a word. As the car zoomed across the island, I went through everything that happened in my head.
How had I missed the signs?
She was just like my grandfather’s ex. Just like my own fucking mother. And I hadn’t seen it.
How?
How the fuck how?
She’d given me every indication that we’d spend the rest of our lives together, and I’d fucking believed her, only to discover it was just for show. For a story. Even worse, for a story fabricated by fucking Rainer.
“Julius,” one of the producers gently said. “Why are you leaving? Where are you going to go?”
There I was, in a situation that would be televised to millions of viewers, with people wanting me to explain the worst moment of my life. “Somewhere that fucking matters,” I said.
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have too.”
They needed more for the cameras, for the viewing audience at home, but they weren’t going to get it from me. Rainer would never see me fall. He wouldn’t win.
I’d heard he was headed to New Port to woo the Princess of Alexandria, but I was going to beat him at his own game. I’d woo her ten times harder, and then I’d figure out a way to destroy his life.
I had a new plan.
Something to focus on.
And I was all in.
“Why did you walk away, Julius?” the producer prompted. I could tell he didn’t want to be asking me any questions, and yet, he was.
I shook my head. “Just take me to the airport.”
There were so many emotions swirling inside me—shock, embarrassment, hurt. But mostly, I felt anger. A fucking lot of anger.
How could Lia have done this?
I thought I knew her.
That fucking liar.
I’d let myself fall in love, only to find out I’d been tricked into doing so. She said it was real, that she never played me. I couldn’t believe her. Wouldn’t. I wasn’t my grandfather, and I wasn’t my father—I wasn’t a chump.
I’d never really wanted love, and I went on the show to prove to myself love didn’t matter, only to find out it did.
Fuck me.
Joke’s on me.
I needed some space. Too bad, I wasn’t alone. I was in a vehicle with a driver, cameramen, and producers itching for me to talk so that they could air my humiliation on live television.
That wasn’t fucking happening.
And I was going to make sure of it…no matter what.
SOME ROADS LEAD NOWHERE
The Present
We’re back in the car with twenty long miles ahead of us.
Royal security is following us, and Julius is driving reasonably slow, so I don’t think he plans on trying to lose them.
It’s quiet when the top isn’t down.
Really quiet.
He doesn’t seem to mind the deafening silence, but I’m rehearsing the burning questions I want to ask him in my mind. There’s:
✔️Rainer.
✔️The moment we shared in the elevator before seeing the Queen.
✔️Liz.
✔️The finale that never aired.
Julius has one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the armrest between us. Every so often, he drums his fingers or shifts his hand. He is totally on edge. Obviously, he has burning questions, as well.
Miles pass with more silence. I’m starting to wonder if he plans to talk to me ever again. “Mind if I turn the radio on?” I finally ask. Anything to break up the monotony of the quiet.
“I do, actually.” Julius side-eyes me from the driver’s seat.
Okay.
I shake my head with a low exhale of a laugh and tap my fingers against my thigh for at least a mile, and then I decide to try again. “Writing articles with your grandmother will really help keep Raquel satisfied; it’s the perfect cover. Did you arrange it?”
He glares over at me. “Did I arrange for you to meet with the Queen on a regular basis and air our dirty laundry? No, I didn’t.”
“That’s not what I’ll be doing, Julius. I plan on writing the narrative the Queen wants the world to hear. Since having a pretend relationship with you seems to be off the table again, I need something to give to Raquel to stall her and meeting with your grandmother can’t hurt.”
He shrugs as if he could care less.
Since he’s not interested in discussing the plan, his plan, I might as well do some work. I’m reaching into the messenger bag at my feet to pull out my iPad when Julius finally speaks. “I never said I wasn’t interested in having a pretend relationship with you. That’s been the plan along.”
“Well then, since I am the other half of the relationship, would you care to fill me in on what the plan is?”
He takes his gaze off the road for a brief second, his eyes flashing with something I can’t decipher, as he glances in my direction.
Remorse.
No, pity.
Oh, God, I must look pathetic. “I drove to your apartment today. Surely, someone noticed me standing outside your building while I waited for you and then helping you into the vehicle.”
My heart falls a bit. That was for show. Not for me.
“I guess you’re right.” I leave the iPad in my bag, realizing I’ll n
ever be able to work with him so close. “Are you up to filling me in on the rest of your plan?”
“Yeah, sure.”
I have to say, I’m surprised.
Julius fills me in on the royal summer schedule, and that we will be attending every function. He also tells me I’ll need to beef up my wardrobe. He does so, staring at my chucks. However, I think he secretly likes my shoe of choice.
I don’t interrupt while he rattles on about the plan. It’s as if I’m his secretary and he’s giving me instructions. His tone is so remote and unattached; he doesn’t notice when my gaze drifts out the window.
The sun starts to set, and out here in the country, it appears even more golden and brilliant than usual.
“Will you need help moving?” The question takes me by surprise, seemingly coming out of nowhere.
I look over and blink. “Moving?”
He seems sincere. “Yes, once this farce of ours is outed. Where will you go?”
I place my hands in my lap and finger the fabric of my skirt. “I—I—I haven’t decided. Maybe I’ll bring my mother back to New York.”
“New York?”
I nod. “Yes. To live with my sister.”
“I already told you I’d take care of your mother’s finances.”
“I know, and I appreciate that. But I think when this over, breaking all ties will be for the best.”
He nods, and we go back to the maddening silence.
Which I have to confess…I much prefer to the unattached conversation that we were having.
NOT FOR SHOW
The Present
Zero to sixty in two-point eight seconds never held truer.
As soon as I turn off the country lane and on to the interstate, I floor it. “Hold on,” I murmur.
Losing those security chaps is so easy. You’d think by now they’d have a Plan B. Yet, no, they don’t.
I go East instead of West, which will cause me to have to circle back on the parkway. It’s a longer path, but worth being alone.
Well, almost alone.
“I was wondering about your tail,” Ophelia smirks gleefully, as she grips the dash.
I shrug. “Had to let them think I was following the rules.”
She laughs that adorable laugh she has, and I hate that it seeps into my soul and makes me want what I should not—more of it.
One quick glance over to the passenger seat, and I’m already regretting looking that way. I can’t help but take in the smooth, bare skin of Ophelia’s thighs, and I can’t stop my dick from twitching at the sight.
In truth, I’m acting like more of a dick than I need to. She is trying to help me, and I was a real douchebag last night. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but about what happened last night, I’m sorry.”
She turns away, a sadness overtaking her that I hate knowing I put there. “It’s okay, Julius, I understand. Really. This thing between us is only business, and when it’s over, we’ll be done. Last night proved it to me.”
Fuck!
Guilt overwhelms me.
I really am an asshole.
Needing to make this right, or as right as I can, I pull off the highway and onto the turnaround. When I come to a stoplight, I reach over and pull her chin my way. “Ask me anything you want,” I offer, “and I’ll answer honestly.”
Her brows rise in astonishment. “Anything?”
I nod as the light turns green and set my gaze forward. The night is upon us, and the stars above us are bright, as if they’re leading the way for me. The question is—what way?
To heaven?
To hell?
Or somewhere in between?
She clears her throat. Starts to say something, then stops and begins again. “How did you convince the network not to air the finale?”
“That was easy. I threatened to take down the entire Bachelor empire. They misrepresented the candidates, and it was grounds for the biggest lawsuit they would ever see. That and throwing around my title didn’t hurt.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her smile at that last part. “Your turn. Ask me anything.”
She doesn’t want to open that can of worms.
“I mean it, anything,” she insists.
So I do. I ask her more than one thing because I want to know what I wouldn’t give her a chance to tell me three years. I’m finally ready to hear her truth and believe it to be her truth.
Without hesitation, she tells me everything. How she was convinced to take Rainer’s sorry excuse for an assignment, how she fell in love with me, and how she wanted to tell me the truth but knew she’d lose me when she did.
And she was right about it all.
“Liz was a rebound,” I whisper in the dark. “And I broke it off with her because I knew staying with her was unfair. I didn’t really love her. Not the way…” I stop talking before I finish and let that sentence die in the night.
She does, too.
The tension between us is way too high for any further conversation. Old memories resurfacing and wounds opening up that I thought I’d closed for good, but obviously, I haven’t.
But in the dark, it’s hard to remember why I hate her.
In the dark, I allow myself to feel things I shouldn’t.
When I park in a lot across the street from her apartment, I make sure to find a dark corner where no one can see us. Then I unbuckle my seatbelt and turn to her. “Come here.” I indicate my lap.
Her eyes bounce between mine and her apartment building as she shakes her head no. However, her eyes darken before me, giving her real feelings away. “That’s not a good idea.”
I lean over. “I never said it was,” I whisper into her ear, running my fingers down her collarbone. “But do it anyway.”
Her tongue slides between her teeth. “We said we wouldn’t do this anymore.”
“We’ve said a lot of things.”
“That’s true,” she says in a harsh breath.
With some kind of unbridled passion only seen in the movies, I grab her by the collar of her ridiculous white shirt and pull her toward me. In an instant, I fasten my lips to hers.
The spark between us is crazy. One that I can’t seem to extinguish no matter how hard I try. Before I can process what I’m doing, she’s clawing her nails up my shirt and twisting her fingers through my hair.
Fuck.
I want her.
The zing is there, more electric than ever, and all I want to do is tear her clothes off while she rips mine from my body. And then I want her to run her nails down my back until I bleed while I thrust into her fast and hard.
Needing to move in that direction, I pull away, panting. “Pull that skirt up, baby, and come over here.”
She shakes her head.
“Ophelia, let me make last night up to you. Tonight will be the last time.”
It takes her a beat to decide. Then, slowly, she climbs over the console. When she’s where I want her to be, I slide my hands down her back to squeeze her ass, and she sucks in a deep breath. “What are you doing?”
I slide my tongue along her full bottom lip, and when she nips at it, it makes me grin. “What I should have done last night.”
Her green eyes darken even more before me.
“You need this,” I whisper, running my fingers along the zipper of her skirt. “You need me to make you come. I can see it in your eyes.” It isn’t a question.
Her tongue slides between her lips, and she nods in agreement.
“Spin around for me, Pretty Girl.” This time she doesn’t hesitate.
Call me a masochist for doing this, again, but fuck if being with her doesn’t make my blood burn hotter than ever.
When she’s right where I need her, I pull her white shirt out of the waistband of her skirt and slide my hand under it and up to her small chest. Fuck, her skin is so soft and warm.
With my lips on her neck, I use my free hand to shove her panties aside and find her clit. Like this, I apply pressure with my
thumb and stick one then two fingers inside her. I really want to lick her until she screams my name, but in this small car, that is an impossible feat.
The windows fog up, giving us the privacy we need. Which is good, because soon, she starts to ride my fingers, and then she screams my name. “Oh, Julius. Oh, God, Julius.”
As she does, I bury my nose in her hair, inhaling her vanilla scent. “Again, Lia, come for me, again.”
“Oh, God,” she gasps, and a loud moan leaves her throat as her second orgasm overtakes her.
“That’s it, baby, that’s it. Let go.”
When she’s spent, and all her tense muscles go limp against me, I pull my hand from her panties.
She jerks, obviously still sensitive, and when she turns back around, her eyes slice to mine in question.
Not taking mine off her, I grip her face. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
Hey, maybe she wants to leave me as I left her, and if she does, it serves me fucking right. Yet, instead of turning me down, she gives me a nod, and then her eyes bounce out the window and around us.
“No one can see us,” I reassure her.
“Do you want to come upstairs with me?” she asks.
I can’t do that. I just can’t. So instead of answering, I put my mouth right at her ear. “Spread your legs and straddle me.”
After she does as I instruct, my hand slides up until it meets the base of her throat, and the other presses her against my hard-on. “Feel that?”
“Yes,” she whispers huskily.
“Unbutton your shirt for me.”
Slowly, she undoes each small button.
“Your bra, too. I want to see how hard your nipples are for me.”
Her eyes stay on mine as she does what I’ve asked.
When she’s done, my hands dart to her nipples, and I pinch them hard. She hisses a sharp breath when I do and says, “I want you.”
I slide my fingers down to her exposed panties and tug on the lace, ripping them right off. At the same time, she reaches for my pants to unzip me, and I assist her.