Royally Screwed: A British Bad Boy Romance

by Jessica Ashe

  “Hi, George the Ninth,” Ellie said loudly.

  The nickname had stuck, and no one took more pleasure in using it in public than Ellie. She even wrote “George IX” on this cup whenever he came in for a drink. George had tried referring to Ellie as “Ellie 34D” but it didn’t have quite the same ring to it. Not to mention, he got her size completely wrong.

  “Hi, Ellie,” George replied quietly.

  “Everything okay?” I asked. George didn’t have his usual confidence or swagger about him today, and he’d been cryptic about what he’d been up to the last few days. I hadn’t been worried about it—until now.

  “I’m not sure yet,” George replied.

  “How did your meeting go?”

  “I got what I needed.”

  George looked behind me to Ellie, and then back to me. He had bad news. We were set for money, so it wasn’t that. Could he not come to America with me anymore?

  “Sophia, would you go collect those cups from that empty table?” Ellie asked.

  “You’re going to miss bossing me around when I’m gone.”

  “Stop complaining and go get the cups, love.”

  “She’s only this annoying when you’re here,” I said to George, as I went around the counter towards the empty table.

  “That’s my fault,” George said. “She’s doing me a favor.”

  I walked towards the table, but George blocked my way. Ellie mentioned déjà vu earlier, and suddenly I knew what she meant.

  George dropped to one knee in front of me and took hold of my left hand. “We didn’t do it properly last time and that was my fault. This time I want it to be perfect. You’re my princess and always will be. You deserve to get married like one.”

  He pulled out a small box from the inside of his jacket pocket and opened it in front of me.

  “Sophia Simpkins, will you marry me?”

  I didn’t look down at the ring. I didn’t need to. The size of the rock didn’t matter. All that I cared about was the love and affection I saw in his eyes. I knew I wanted to wake up to that look every day for the rest of my life.

  My mouth couldn’t even form the one-syllable word response, so I just nodded my head frantically until George stood and lifted me up in his arms. I was vaguely aware of some clapping and cheering in the background, but all I could see through tear-filled eyes was Ellie wiping her own tears from her cheeks.

  My last maid of honor had betrayed me. This time, I knew I’d be in safe hands. I had the perfect man and the perfect friends.

  Life couldn’t get any better.

  “We’re going to do it right this time,” George whispered in my ear.

  “I don’t care how we do it,” I replied. “I just want to be with you.”

  “I’ve already booked the honeymoon.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’d love to spend two weeks looking at you in a bikini,” George replied. “But I made a promise to you and I’m a man of my word. We’re going skiing.”

  THE END

  Books by Jessica Ashe

  If you enjoyed Royally Screwed, then you may also want to check out my back catalogue. Don’t forget, Bad Boy’s Honor and Bad Boy’s Secret are included as free bonus books in this one!

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  Bad Boy’s Honor: An MMA Bad Boy Romance

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  Bad Boy’s Honor

  Chapter One

  Riker

  Life was good. I got paid to fight, fuck, and act like a dick. All things I would happily do for free anyway.

  Okay, so I didn’t technically get paid to fuck loads of women and act like a dick, but the sponsors liked it when I made the news and who was I to deny them?

  Before making fighting into a career—if you could call it that—I’d spent every weekend fighting on street corners. And sometimes fucking there as well, if the circumstances called for it.

  Now, instead of fighting on the street, I fought in a metal cage. Instead of screwing random women from the neighborhood, I screwed random groupies who fought their way backstage after the fights.

  The acting like a dick thing? Well, that just came naturally.

  I stuck to what I was good at. If I was going to make a living based on one of my talents… well, probably better to be paid for the fighting than the fucking.

  Tonight’s fight had been the toughest one yet, but I’d still won by knockout. I’d just had to work for it a bit this time. The black eye, cuts to the face, and badly bruised ribs were evidence of that.

  “Hey, baby,” the brunette said as she strolled into my changing room as if she owned the fucking place. “You were amazing out there tonight.”

  Tell me something I don’t know, sweetheart.

  I recognized those lips. I’d let her suck me off a few times. Judging by her outfit, she’d been promoted to ‘ring girl’ status for tonight’s fight.

  Were they still ‘ring girls’ when there was no ring? We fought in a cage, but ‘cage girls’ made them sound like prisoners. They were always very willing around me. I needed to call them something, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to remember their actual names.

  Duke didn’t pay any of the ring girls. They did it just for the opportunity to get close to me. They knew I liked to fuck after a fight, and they wanted to be on the business end of my cock when I let go of any remaining aggression.

  Brunette would do for tonight. The girl had some skills with her mouth and tongue, and I had an overwhelming desire to shoot my load down a pretty girl’s throat.

  “You’re covered in bruises,” Brunette remarked, as she ran her hands over my sweaty chest. Her fingers pressed against the red marks on my chest that would soon turn purple.

  I grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her hand from my chest.

  “Do they hurt?” she asked.

  Brunette tried to sound concerned, but the cuts and bruises turned her on. The more battered my body, the more she wanted it. She was practically licking her lips while looking at the black eye forming on my face.

  “No,” I replied. “That’s just not where I want your hands.”

  Brunette smiled and lowered her hand tantalizingly slowly towards my cock as it began twitching in anticipation. Her palm pressed against the top of my shorts, before lightly stroking it up and down.

  Ugh. The last thing I wanted after a fight was a girl who liked to tease.

  Screw foreplay. I placed my hand on the top of her head and pushed her down to get reacquainted with my dick.

  There was a loud knock at the door. Brunette froze just as she was about to free my cock from my shorts.

  “What is it?” I yelled out.

  “It’s me,” Duke replied. “Can I come in?”

  “No you fucking can’t,” I snapped back. Duke might be my manager and my boss, but if he was stupid enough to interrupt my post-fight ritual, then he deserved an earful of abuse as much as Brunette deserved a mouthful of cock.

  “Tell whatever girl—or girls—you have in there to put their clothes back on. Or not. I’m coming in either way.”

  I groaned and pushed Brunette’s hand off my crotch. She barely had any clothes on as it was, but she’d been parading around like that for the last few hours, so she wouldn’t be embarrassed.

  Duke walked in, true to his threat, and smiled at Brunette. “Give us a minute please, Courtney.”

  “Okay. See you soon, sweetie,” Courtney said, blowing me a kiss as she walked out the door.

&nbs
p; “Do you have any idea what that girl can do with her mouth?” I asked Duke angrily. “This had better be important.”

  “I knew you’d forgotten,” Duke said, shaking his head. “Fucking hell. Now I owe Gayle ten bucks.”

  “Forgotten what?”

  “You need to go straight to 51st Bar tonight after the fight and drink there until at least two in the morning.”

  “Not that I’m complaining about spending the night drinking in a bar, but why do I have to go there right now? Can’t I get my dick wet first?”

  “Only in the shower. Go get cleaned up and changed. I know the owner of the bar and he’s paid a lot of money to have you over there after the fight. He thinks having the city’s most infamous underground fighter in there will bring in more customers.”

  “Do I at least get free drinks?”

  “Yep. Just go there, get drunk, flirt with the women, and act like a jackass.”

  “I guess I can manage that.”

  “I’ll tell Courtney where you’ll be. I know you get fucking moody if you don’t get your dick wet after a fight.”

  “Fine. I’ll go. But don’t tell Courtney. I think I’ll dabble with some fresh meat tonight.”

  “Gotta spread out the love,” Duke agreed. He’d been a fighter back in the day, so he knew the score. He was also the closest thing I had to a father, but we’d never had the traditional father-son relationship. More like two brothers who fought a lot.

  “I never disappoint my fans. Especially the slutty ones.”

  * * *

  I can’t trust Duke as far as I could throw the fat piece of—

  “Hi Courtney,” I said with mock enthusiasm as she greeted me by the entrance. She’d been lying in wait for me.

  Her face lit up in a glorious smile just because I’d remembered her name. It’d be a hell of a lot harder to hook up with another woman with Courtney all over me. Tonight might have to be a threesome.

  I’m tired, but I’ll manage. Even on an off-night, I can keep two women happy.

  51st Bar redefined the term “dive bar.” I’d been in my fair share of shitholes over the years, but this place made them look like celebrity hangouts by comparison.

  With every step, I had to peel my foot off the sticky floor, as I headed to the bar for the first of many drinks.

  Some of the lads from the gym shouted my name from the back of the room, where they’d been given a roped off area presumably for my benefit. At least they’d have table service. No lining up for drinks every twenty minutes.

  The place was packed, and while there were plenty of pretty girls, it was a little too much of a sausage fest for my liking.

  I started walking towards the lads, when a woman behind the bar caught my eye. On second thought, maybe I didn’t mind going to the bar just this once.

  She must be a college student, because she didn’t fit in around here at all. Long brown hair partially hid a cute face that was the picture of innocence until she smiled while talking to another girl by the bar.

  That smile told me all I needed to know about her: princess by day, kinky sex goddess by night. Yes, I really could tell all that from a smile.

  Her tight top hugged her chest, but she only had the tiniest bit of cleavage on show. She’d get much bigger tips with a low-cut top, but sometimes what you couldn’t see was all the more tantalizing. That was definitely the case here.

  Time for this lucky girl to meet the star of tonight’s festivities.

  “Let’s go sit down, baby,” Courtney whined in my ear.

  Shit, better deal with her first.

  We walked over to the roped off area where I introduced Courtney to Matt. “You two will have a lot of fun together,” I said, winking to Matt.

  “Where are you going?” Courtney asked, grabbing hold of my arm as I headed to the bar.

  “I have business to take care of tonight,” I replied. “Matt will look after you. He’s almost as generously portioned as me.”

  “But I want you. I don’t want to settle for someone less perfect. I want the real deal.”

  “So do I,” I replied, as I looked back to the bar. “So do I.”

  Chapter Two

  Nora

  “Just three more hours to go,” I said to Alison, as I handed her another Diet Coke.

  “Stop looking at the time. It’ll only make your shift go slower.”

  “I can’t avoid it,” I replied. “The time is on the cash register. Every time a punter buys a drink, I get to see just how few minutes have passed since the last time I looked.”

  “At least you only have one more night here,” Alison said, cringing as she placed a hand on the sticky bar and quickly peeled it away. “And that means I don’t have to come here any more to keep you company.”

  “I’m going to miss this place.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” I replied, looking around at all the drunken idiots that I served for minimum wage and miserly tips. “They’re not a bad bunch really.”

  “Yes, Nora, they are. They actually are a bad bunch. The last time I went to the bathroom, three different men groped my breasts.”

  “Just three? Well, it’s busier now. You’ll have more luck next time.”

  Alright, maybe I wouldn’t miss this place, but I would miss what it represented. I’d finished college a few weeks ago, but while I still had this job, I could still pretend to be a student. No responsibilities, no career. Just serving assholes in a bar and listening to bad pick up lines.

  I’d hoped for an easy final shift, but no such luck. We had a “VIP” in for the evening. I knew he must be special, because Ray had dusted off the old bit of red rope from the back room and provided them with table service.

  Unfortunately Ray hadn’t thought to perhaps hire more staff for the evening, so I was stuck behind the bar by myself while the other two barmaids were on VIP duty.

  “Maybe you should ask to wait on that table,” Alison suggested, motioning to the loud group of men and their hangers on behind the roped-off area. “I bet the tips are better.”

  “No way. The price of those tips is having hands all over you. Look.”

  Alison looked over at the table and saw one guy with his hand creeping up the thigh of Jasmine who stood there smiling and pretending to enjoy it. Maybe she was enjoying it. Who was I to judge?

  “Good point,” Alison replied.

  I walked away to serve beer that looked—and tasted—like piss to some customers who wouldn’t know any difference at this point. The time popped up on the register. Three hours and ten minutes to go. Wait, hadn’t it been three hours five minutes ago? Was I imagining things now? This night would never end.

  “So…” Alison said slowly when I’d returned. She let the word hang there like one of the many bad farts currently lingering in the air.

  “So…?” I queried, as if I didn’t know exactly what she was talking about.

  “Are you still planning to meet your father soon?”

  “Yep,” I replied confidently, even though the prospect had me scared as hell. “We’ve had this conversation before.”

  “And we’re going to keep having it until I’m convinced that you know what you’re doing. Meeting your biological father is a big move. He doesn’t even know you exist.”

  “He’ll be fine. If I can handle it, then I’m sure he can.”

  “You don’t know anything about this Duke Nott guy.”

  “I know a bit about him. He runs a gym in town. That’s a respectable way to make a living.”

  “There’s rumors that gym hosts illegal cage fights. That’s like human cock-fighting. Hardly respectable.”

  “Rumors,” I insisted. “You can’t believe everything you read.”

  There were a lot of rumors though. The fighters had even become mini celebrities of sorts, if that’s the sort of thing you were into. I couldn’t even watch boxing, let alone no-holds-barred fighting in a metal cage.

  Alison hated it even more than I did. Sh
e was a doctor; her job was to fix people who’d been hurt. The idea of men deliberately getting themselves hurt was anathema to everything she believed.

  “It’s not just that,” Alison said. “You should put more time between your mom’s death and meeting this Duke guy.”

  “I’m not trying to replace Mom,” I insisted for the hundredth time. “I just want to meet the other half of my DNA. Maybe I’ll need a kidney one day.”

  “Okay,” Alison said, holding up her hands. “I’ve tried. If I don’t see you before then, good luck meeting Duke.”

  “Thanks,” I replied with a smile. With any luck, that would be the last time we’d have to have that conversation.

  Tomorrow was the day. I would go down to Duke’s gym and introduce myself. How hard could it be?

  “Okay, well I’d better be leaving now. I’ve got a sixteen-hour shift starting in eight hours.”

  “Ugh. I thought I had it bad. You know, doctors really shouldn’t work such long hours. If I ever end up in ER, the last thing I want is to be treated by someone on the tail end of a sixteen-hour shift.”

  “There are worse things. Think everyone working at the hospital is sober?”

  On that cheerful note, Alison left me to see out the rest of my final shift by myself. My eyes followed her to the exit to make sure she didn’t get any grief.

  Customers referred to me as the timid one, which compared to the other girls working here was true. Alison was on another level of shyness entirely and the guys knew it. They saw her as a challenge, and had a habit of getting aggressive with her. Or they tried, until I stepped in.

  “I thought she’d never leave.”