A Royal Surprise: ( BWWM Romance )

by Tiana Cole

  And he’d told her that he was celebrating some deal, so perhaps it was just that. And sleeping with her had been part of his celebration. If that was what he intended, he was going to be shocked. Quite likely he’d be shocked no matter what he’d intended. If he’d intended anything at all. Maybe he’d just gone with the flow of things.

  The bed rocked when he got up and walked around it, moving sluggishly toward the bathroom. He seemed to be ignoring her now, but she’d felt his eyes on her before. Now he was probably preoccupied with trying to remember things, like how to walk. There was the possibility that he’d had the same idea of feigning sleep, or now, letting her pretend. If they both pretended she was still asleep they could postpone facing each other in this morning after, and dealing with what they’d done.

  She opened one eye and watched him walk to the bathroom, enjoying the look of his body. She liked guys who took care of themselves, and James was not only fit, he had a really cute ass. Watching his naked and unsteady progress through the door, she couldn’t help but recall the feel of his warm body when he moved over her in the evening. They’d kissed as he’d touched her, then he’d devoured her with excited kisses as he moved between her legs, spreading her open. His hands had been hot on her body, clutching her ass tightly, and she had welcomed him, wrapping her legs around his hard body and letting out a sigh as he penetrated her. He impaled her with a cock that was hot, eager, and amazingly hard.

  It had definitely been good. And that was just the first time.

  He was definitely an amorous drunk, and she wondered what it would be like with him when he was sober. Thinking about that gave her a tingle, and a slight shiver of apprehension. No matter how nice he turned out to be, he probably wouldn’t be happy with her when he learned the truth.

  CHAPTER TWO

  James was thankful he’d forced himself to get into the hot shower. The water cascading over his head and face helped his head clear and seemed to give him strength. It was as if the water were rehydrating him from the outside, waking him and restoring his depleted energy. Not that he actually felt strong yet, but his strength was returning. He didn’t feel like he’d pass out.

  Now if it would just bring back his memory.

  He didn’t remember much of the evening at all. He knew he and Alan had been at the bar for a time, then Alan said he had tickets for show. There had been topless dancers and Alan had ordered champagne. They were surrounded by bare breasts and sequins and feathers. Then they’d gone outside, gotten into a taxi, and gone somewhere else, a place where there was dancing. He remembered the pulsing music and the dancing.

  Yes, that was where he’d met the girl who was now naked in his bed. He didn’t remember how that happened, or who made the introductions, but he’d found himself dancing with her. He recalled the delicious fragrance of her perfume, the feel of her brushing against him and her smile. She had an incredible smile that she shone on him. They’d gone back to the table and found Alan with a girl too. The other girl was tall and blonde. He could almost see her face now.

  Fragments, images, scenes, crashed around his head, but he knew he didn’t have the events all in the right order.

  At some point Alan was gone. Where had he gone? He’d taken the other girl and left. And he’d gone outside with this lovely brown lady and they’d…he wasn’t sure, but he thought they’d had wild sex. And then they’d gotten into a taxi.

  Or was that right at all?

  As his head cleared, he decided that the odds were that the girl was a hooker. Vegas was lousy with them. Maybe Alan had found a couple of hookers for them and they’d each taken one to their room.

  That sounded like Alan. He was a prankster and probably would think it amusing to fix him up with a hooker, knowing that wasn’t his style, knowing he was drunk and would have to figure out what had happened when he woke up. It was the kind of joke Alan found hysterical.

  If that was the case, maybe he could get the girl to stay for a time. He wasn’t meeting with Liang until the next morning and James had nothing urgent to do. He’d ask her to stay. They could order some breakfast and that would help him feel stronger. Then he’d fuck her, this dark brown lovely with dreadlocks. If it was any other hooker, he’d send her away, but she was too much his dream girl, and the idea of spending the day in bed with her was exciting.

  It sounded a hell of a lot better than sending her off and spending a miserable day alone in his hotel. After a rough night, he owed it to himself to find out if she was as hot in the sack as he guessed she was. Thinking about it, picturing that sexy brown ass in his bed, imagining those lovely legs wrapping around him, made his cock stir.

  When he stepped out of the shower he was definitely feeling better—almost human. He toweled off and then wrapped the towel around his waist and started to go back into the room. Then, at the door, he stopped and undid the towel. He had nothing to hide from this woman, whoever she was. They seem to have wallowed in each other’s bodies all night. Covering up now accomplished nothing.

  When he opened the door, she sat up in the bed with a sheet pulled demurely over her breasts. It was sexy, but disappointing. He’d expected to see more of her. Well, there was the rest of the day ahead of them.

  A quick glance at her eyes suggested she was in better shape than he was. She looked content and she returned his stare with a soft smile and a sparkle in her brown eyes. It was the beautiful, warm, and arousing smile he remembered. In his hotel room, standing there naked, the smile was also sexy and erotic. That she managed to let those big brown eyes gaze at his cock as he came toward the bed made it seem more erotic.

  “Good morning, James.”

  So she knew his name. He thought she must also know that he didn’t like being called Jimmy, the name he saved for chewing himself out. The voice in his head he chastised himself with sounded so much like his father’s that it seemed appropriate then. “Eat your veggies, Jimmy. Do your homework, Jimmy.” That was the name he was called when he’d acted out, gotten in trouble. Jimmy was a failure, a troublemaker, and James hated Jimmy as much as his father had.

  “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” His attempt to sound nonchalant sounded forced, even to him.

  “Deja,” she said, smiling. “That’s my name.”

  “Your name is Deja?”

  “Deja Fontaine.” She still stared at his naked body. “I was pretty sure you wouldn’t remember.”

  He winced, embarrassed that she was right. “And did you sleep well, Deja Fontaine?”

  She stretched, and the sheet slipped down, giving him a view of her lovely brown breasts. “Wonderfully. After a night like last night, anyone would sleep like a log. I couldn’t believe you could get so aroused that many times, especially…” She paused and let the sentence float.

  He understood. “With all I had to drink?”

  She nodded. “I’d always heard that too much booze can diminish a man’s desire, but you’ve made me wonder if that’s just idle gossip.”

  He sat on the bed and she moved her legs to the side. “I’m sorry that I don’t remember much. I don’t normally get drunk, and I’ve never been so out of my head. I’m really ashamed that I can’t remember much of what happened.”

  She put her hand behind her head. “It’s okay. I’m glad to hear excessive partying isn’t your normal thing.” She rubbed her eyes.

  “How did we meet? Where did we meet?”

  Her laughter sounded like music. “You and your friend came into the club— Luciano’s. I was out on the dance floor alone and you came over asked me to dance with you.” She looked into his eyes. “You said you liked my smile, but your hands were all over my ass. Later you told me you wanted to get to know the rest of me.”

  “I did?”

  “It seemed kind of cute…sexy cute. We had a lovely time dancing and you came up with some ideas for things we might do for fun. Then your friend met up with another girl who seemed to like him. She was eager and they left together.”

  �
�And we came here?”

  “Eventually.”

  “We went other places first?” He saw her hesitation. “I need to know.”

  “A few. You got very excited, as if you wanted to explode with some emotion you’d been holding in. And you were full of ideas, bursting with things you wanted to do. A number of them were rather naughty…and fun.”

  “Like?”

  She rolled out of bed. “I need to pee and shower. We aren’t in any rush, are we? We can talk when I’m done.”

  “Would you like some breakfast?”

  She crossed to the bathroom with long strides, and her long legs caught his attention. “That would be lovely.”

  When she closed the door, he picked up the phone and ordered two large breakfasts. Then, impatient, he paced the room as the sound of the shower reached his ears. He thought about going in and joining her, but his head still pounded. Maybe after breakfast. The hotel provided a thick robe and he put it on so he could answer the door when room service arrived, then he resumed pacing.

  Until he remembered, or was told everything that had happened last night, relaxing was going to be hard. And this girl puzzled him. She didn’t seem like a hooker to him, but then, he didn’t know that much about hookers. If she was one, then she was his first. But there had to be all kinds of women who played in that game, and they’d all be different, wouldn’t they? If she wasn’t a hooker, then he had to wonder what she was.

  He looked out the window. It wasn’t much of a view, really, and the window let him look out over the swimming pool on the roof a few stories down, and out across several other casinos. He could take in a suburb of casinos, a warren of them crammed together. He didn’t like Las Vegas much. It was too gaudy for his tastes, too overdone. He had little use for flash without substance.

  This girl seemed to have some substance. Maybe that was why he was having trouble reconciling her with the idea he had of a hooker. Finding out who and what she was wouldn’t be all that pleasant, and it would be hard to take the high moral ground now that he’d already admitted he didn’t remember one damn thing.

  * * * *

  As he paced the room, waiting, James noticed a rather elaborate white plastic folder, trimmed in gold, sitting face down on the dresser. Something about it made him stop in his tracks, his breathing on hold.

  As Deja emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a robe, she looked at him. That soft, welcoming, delicious smile crossed her face, then she opened the robe, let it slip off her shoulders and drop to the floor. His eyes were drawn to her as if she were steel and they were magnets. He watched her supple, lovely, naked body as she slipped back under the sheets. She settled in the bed on her back, with her eyes on him and curiosity filling in her eyes.

  “You have a question.” She said it as if she’d expected him to ask her something.

  He pointed to the folder. “I found this folder.”

  “You don’t remember what that’s about either?”

  “No. What is it?”

  She glanced at it then quickly returned her gaze to his face. He saw her body had stiffened and she was tense, apprehensive. That wasn’t a good sign. “If you don’t remember, then I think you’d better look at. I don’t want to tell you about it, but it’s something that we need to talk about sooner or later. It definitely will require conversation.”

  “It’s serious, then.”

  “I think so.” She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them. “You seemed to think it was all rather funny at the time—the proper way to end our date, is what you said. You thought it would be entertaining. You said we’d have our little entertainment and then talk about it in the morning. I was hoping our talk might not come up until after breakfast.”

  “Entertainment?”

  She shrugged. “That’s what you called it.”

  “Me?”

  Her nod wasn’t reassuring in the least. “Yes.”

  “What about you? Were you entertained?”

  “You should look at it and see what we are talking about.”

  “I will—in a minute. I need to work up my nerve.”

  “You think you know? You remember?”

  “I’m guessing and hoping I’m wrong.”

  She shook her head. “At the time I thought it was weird, but you wanted it—a lot. Well, last night my judgment wasn’t that much better than yours or I wouldn’t have I agreed.”

  “And now?”

  “This morning it’s harder to see what made it so clever, or even a reasonable thing.”

  The folder was substantial and when he turned it over, he saw an oval picture of Elvis Presley in the center. A chunky, overweight Elvis, wearing his white fringed Vegas show outfit. Across the top, in gilt lettering was written Welcome to Graceland West.

  He swallowed hard, fairly certain he knew what this was. His hand trembled slightly as he opened it. Inside, in the left pocket was a DVD in a plastic case; the right pocked held a laminated document. Slipping the document out of the pocket he saw a picture of three people: Deja, the man who looked like Elvis, and himself. He was wearing sequin-studded sunglasses and holding a champagne glass. The stupid grin on his own face sent a chill through him. “We had our picture taken with an Elvis impersonator?” he asked hopefully.

  “After,” she said, sounding uneasy.

  “After what?”

  “The ceremony. Flip it over.”

  He glanced at her and saw the alarm in her eyes. She was definitely worried what he’d think. When he turned over the picture he stared dully at a wedding certificate in their names. According to the document, they had been married in a ceremony at the Church of Graceland West a mere six hours earlier. A stab of pain ran through him and he resisted the urge to turn and demand an explanation. He already had her explanation.

  The DVD slipped out of its pocket. Another picture of the three of them graced its cover. He held it up. “What the fuck is this?”

  “A video of the ceremony. It’s actually more of a performance than a ceremony, with Elvis ranting about his ideas on love and singing songs—it’s a bit like being in a musical. They do manage to get in the required legal stuff.”

  “Songs?”

  “Elvis tunes. His rendition of Love Me Tender wasn’t bad, but I guess he’s had a lot of practice at it. They were cranking couples through that mill.”

  He dropped the DVD on the dresser and walked to a chair, sinking into it, feeling as if he’d been struck with a club. He’d gotten married—they’d gotten married. As absurd as it sounded, he knew it was the truth, it had happened. Seeing the picture of Elvis brought back new images of the night. The music, the hokey impression of Elvis, which was, he remembered, what made him think the idea was so funny.

  The evening had been surreal and he’d gone with it, including this wedding. The night reminded him of some sort of weird drug trip…at least the way sounds and images and emotions swirled around him resembled what he’d been told it was like when you took drugs.

  He stared at this girl, who was part of whatever happened, who had been with him in this insane night. “We got married?” He wanted to hear her say it.

  She grimaced. “Yes. You insisted.”

  That didn’t make sense. Even having lost control. “I’m inherently a logical person—it’s who I am—and logical people don’t do things like that. I weigh the pros and cons of things before I act. Can you tell me why I wanted to marry a girl I just met? There has to have been a compelling reason.”

  She looked distressed and he wondered if he’d hurt her feelings. Not that her feelings mattered all that much at the moment. What did matter was finding out just how much shit he’d gotten himself into.

  “James, you didn’t explain your reasoning, if you had any. All I know is that we were having a good time. A really good time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Okay, I skipped a bit. After your friend left with his girl, you were really excited.”

  “Excited?”

/>   She made a face. “Sexually aroused. Like I said, you couldn’t keep your hands off me when we danced, and when you suggested we leave…well, I was getting hot too. You’re a sexy guy. I was still sober enough that it embarrassed me. I didn’t like being pawed in public that way. I thought getting out of there would calm you down, but when we got outside, you started kissing me.”

  “Me?”

  “Well, it sure looked like you.”

  “Sarcasm isn’t going to help. I’m trying to remember things and put it all together.”

  “Maybe you’ll remember that while we were kissing you started telling me how hot I was, and how I turned you on. Then you pushed me up against a building, hiked up my dress, pulled my panties aside, and screwed me up against the wall of some casino.”

  It came back to him, and he heard how she’d gasped. He looked at her face and suddenly he could see her up against a concrete wall, her mouth open. And he remembered the warmth of her breath, smelling of alcohol, as he kissed her, and the warmth of her cunt as he fucked her, with her legs hooking around his as he pressed her into the wall. He’d never done anything like that in his life, not until then. “I…”

  She smiled. “Not that I objected in the least. At the time, I was so worked up that I wanted it as much as you did.”

  “Okay. I went nuts, or we went nuts.” He remembered that it happened, but still missed out on enjoying it. “What happened then?”

  “I said it was late, but you sure weren’t tired. You were talking about how good it had been and how you wanted the good time to go on and on. You told me you wanted to screw me against every wall in Las Vegas and then bring me to your room and do me again. I told you that I had to go home, I had to work the next day.”