Kissing Princeton Charming (The Princeton Charming Series Book 1)

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Kissing Princeton Charming (The Princeton Charming Series Book 1) Page 6

by Frankie Love


  “Where are you going?” she asks, she’s wearing a guy’s hoodie and it reaches her mid-thigh, right where her boots end. Some people may call this the walk of shame, but Daphne owns it.

  “I’m going to cover Jill’s shift.”

  “Boo!” Daphne pouts before taking a sip of her coffee.

  “Thanks for this,” I say, lifting the cup to cheers her. “I take it the rowing team showed you a good time?”

  “They were no Princeton Charming, but yeah, we had fun.” She grins, and I shake my head.

  “Spencer and I are not a thing, so don’t get any ideas in your head.”

  “You’re not interested?”

  “No way. He’s so not my type.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to work,” she says.

  I groan. “You’re telling me, sweetheart.”

  “I miss you though,” she says. “We haven’t hung out in ages. I was hoping we could chill today.” She’s always finding something to keep her busy. Sometimes though, I worry about her. She keeps a pretty positive outlook most of the time, but I’ve seen her get down, missing class and needing to regroup at home for a few weeks.

  “Rain check?” I pull my tote bag over my shoulder, keys in hand. Before I can go, though, there is a knock on the door. Frowning, I pull it open.

  Standing there with a bouquet of red roses is Spencer Beckett.

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  He offers me the roses. “It’s me thanking you for everything last night.”

  I lift my eyebrows and take the flowers. “This isn’t necessary.”

  “I thought you asked for romance.”

  I laugh. “I’m more practical than this. I’d rather have a rose bush than a bouquet.”

  “And what would you do with a rose bush, Charlotte Hayes?” he asks.

  Twisting my lips, I shrug. “Plant it. It would last longer than these.” I bring the bouquet to my nose and inhale. The sweet scent of flowers fills my nostrils and I sigh. These are some really gorgeous roses.

  “Just say thank you,” he says, his signature smile making my heart beat fast. “It’s the polite thing to do.”

  “Where are my manners?” I tease, pressing a hand to my chest. “Thank you, Princeton Charming. For this grand gesture meant to sweep me off my feet.”

  “You are trouble, you know that?”

  I nod. “I do.”

  Daphne interjects, taking the roses from me. “I’ll put these in water. And don’t you have a job to get to?” she asks me pointedly. I see she is trying to help me get away from Spencer, and I appreciate it.

  But I also realize my earlier comments about him to her weren’t exactly honest. Flirting with Spencer is fun. Really fun. And I don’t want it to end.

  “A job?” he asks. “I thought—”

  I cut him off. “I’m covering a friend’s shift.”

  “I was hoping we could go out today, maybe ice skate, something Christmassy. Something romantic.”

  “Sorry to be a heartbreaker, but I’ve got work to do. And the sooner I start cleaning the library, the sooner I will be done.”

  “I can help,” he says. “Two people are better than one, right?”

  “Ha. Campus royalty can’t be seen with commoners. Besides, do you even know how to run a vacuum cleaner?”

  His eyes go wide, and he laughs. “I’m a quick learner.” I start to shake my head, but he persists. “Please. Let me help. I’m trying to thank you for helping Ava last night. Let me be the good guy.”

  “As opposed to?”

  “Whatever it is you think I am.”

  My lips twitch. Dusting shelves would be a lot more fun with Spencer Beckett at my side. I shrug, feigning nonchalance. Inside my heart pounds. “Fine.”

  “Fine?”

  “Yeah, fine.” I press a hand to his chest, his face lights up with a smile, and I walk past him into the hallway. “You wanna come help me clean, I’m not going to stop you.”

  The law library is closed on Sundays, so it’s just Spencer and me. I flick on some lights and turn to my work-buddy.

  “You up for this?” I ask, trying hard to control the grin that tugs at my lips.

  “It’s like you don’t think I know what it means to work up a sweat.”

  “Do you?”

  He smirks, closing the distance between us. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Charlie. I know all about working up a sweat.”

  I laugh. “I think we’re discussing two very different types of work.”

  He lifts an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t mind watching you show me how it’s done. This work of yours.”

  I laugh, stepping toward the supply closet. “You just want to see me bend over as I wield a broom.”

  “Fair enough.” He joins me in the closet, and I feel the electricity between us rise. “So, what do you want me to do?”

  Kiss me. The thought comes out of nowhere. I swallow hard. “I...uh...you should...”

  He leans closer, that cocky smirk playing on his lips. “I should what, Charlie?”

  It’s terrible how much I want him. His kiss. His touch. The way he looks at me, like he’s ready to devour every inch of my body, makes my core clench in need. I’d let him -- consume me. In this moment if he asked, hell if he just took, I’d give in, unable to resist.

  His breathing is ragged, matching my own, but he doesn’t kiss me, he just presses his forehead to mine and keeps his hands at his side.

  “We better get to work.” His warm breath tickles my lips. “Because once I get you out of here, you’re all mine tonight.”

  As much of a cliché as it is, I want to be his, even if it’s just for one night.

  “I hope you don’t think just cause you’re helping me clean I’m going to have sex with you. Maybe that’s the way it works with your other girls, but I’m not them.”

  He laughs. “Trust me, Charlie, one thing I’ve come to realize is that you’re nothing like anyone I’ve ever met before. And this—” He takes the broom from my hand. “Is all new to me too. But I’ll make you a bet.” He’s grinning at me, like whatever he’s about to propose, he’s already won.

  “What kind of a bet?”

  He moves toward me, and I take a couple steps back until my ass hits the shelves. His gaze rakes over me, lust and need burning in his eyes. “By the end of today, it’ll be you begging to be in my bed.”

  “I don’t beg.”

  “Not yet.” He kisses the tip of my nose, then winks. “But you will.”

  He chuckles and moves out of the room, broom in hand, and I’m left wondering if making bets with Princeton Charming may just be the way I can get what I want. Him.

  9

  Spencer

  Spending the day cleaning with Charlie proves to be more difficult than I expected, mostly because my balls ache like a motherfucker from watching that sweet little ass bending over constantly.

  But more than that, the girl is quick, and not just her snarky little comments meant to keep me at arm’s length. She’s smart. And funny. And by the time we’re putting the cleaning supplies back in the supply closet I’m starting to wonder if this isn’t just about the conquest. If maybe it’s more. More than I’m willing to consider right now.

  “So, Charming,” she says as she locks up. “You survived a day with the commoners.”

  I grunt. “You act like I’ve never worked before.”

  “Have you? I figure someone like you has a cushiony trust fund he can tap into whenever he needs a new Rolex or—”

  I spin her around, hands on her waist, and pull her toward me. “You like to put people in boxes.”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” Her palms are on my chest, ready to push me away, but she doesn’t. “Honestly, Spencer. What do you see when you look at me? A scholarship student from a blue collar family, who’ll never belong in your world.”

  “Last I checked, there’s only one world we live in. And those are just things, Charlie. Money—”

  “Or l
ack of.”

  I chuckle. “Sure. But it doesn’t make us who we are.”

  “So you’re saying you wouldn’t care if you woke up tomorrow and were broke.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  She laughs. “Right.”

  “So you don’t like rich people.” My arms are still around her, and there’s no way I’m moving unless she pushes me away.

  “No, it’s not that...” She chews on her bottom lip and frowns.

  “Then what? You’re here at Princeton. One of the top schools in the country. When you graduate, you can’t tell me you won’t jump at the chance to make some good coin.”

  “Of course not, but I want to make money so I can...” She starts to pull away.

  “Not so fast.” I spread my fingers at her lower back and feel her shiver against me. “Tell me.”

  “You have money, so you don’t have to worry about getting sick, paying for bills, watching people you love suffer...”

  “Hate to break it to you, but being rich doesn’t mean we don’t get sick.”

  “See. That right there. You don’t get it. Sure, you get sick, but you go to the top hospitals, have the best doctors. You don’t have to worry about re-mortgaging your house to pay for life-saving treatments.”

  I frown down at her. “You have someone who’s sick?”

  She hesitates before answering. “My mom. She was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis when I was nine. It wasn’t bad at first, but...”

  “I’m sorry.” I cup her jaw, seeing the pain in her eyes, and hell if I don’t want to take it away.

  “It’s been hard watching her lose her ability to do the things she once did. And my dad, God, he works so hard, trying to take care of her, and working to pay the bills. It’s just not fair. How some people can have so much, and others...” She swipes her fingers under her eyes. “I’m not sure why I told you that.”

  “Because I asked.” I press my lips against her forehead. “I want to know about you.”

  She grunts. “Why? So you can feel better about yourself—”

  “There’s that chip again.”

  She shrugs. “Maybe. But it’s who I am. I have to work hard just to keep my head above water. That’s why I need this job, why I needed that waitressing job.”

  “I won’t make the mistake of offering you money again. But...” I grin down at her, hoping to lighten the mood. “I can see about getting you a job at The Blue Point Grill. The owner owes me a favor.”

  “I don’t need your help—”

  “You kind of do. And since I’m the one responsible for screwing up your other gig, I’d like to do something.”

  Her lips pinch together, and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head.

  “You don’t owe me anything,” I say, getting the feeling that’s what she’s worried about.

  She sighs. “I’ll find my own job.”

  I want to argue with her, but I know it’s pointless. Instead, I change the subject. “So, how about that date?”

  She glances down at her baggy sweater and jeans. “I’m not really dressed to go out. I should go back to the dorm and change.”

  “Or you can come back to my place and I’ll order Chinese.”

  “Your place, huh?” Her lips purse again, and I can see her mulling over the option. “I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing where royalty lives. Is there a drawbridge and moat?”

  I chuckle. “Hardly. But every once in a while a fire-breathing dragon comes by.”

  “Really?” A smile lights up her face.

  “I’m serious. You haven’t met my mother yet. But you’ll understand when you do.”

  She tenses slightly, and I wonder if I’ve gone too far. The words slipped out. But I know they didn’t come from nowhere. I took enough psych classes in undergrad to know the subconscious is more powerful than we give it credit for. And I’m pretty sure mine has marked this girl...and not just for a quick fling.

  It’s scary as hell, but even though I feel like I’m barrelling down a hill in a cart with no brakes, I’m enjoying the fucking ride, and I don’t want it to stop.

  10

  Charlie

  Spencer’s place may not be a castle, but it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Decorated in whites and grays, it looks more like an apartment out of Better Homes, than something a college guy would live in. Except of course, for the large pool table situated in the center of the living room, and the enormous plasma TV mounted above a gas fireplace.

  “God, you really are rich.”

  “Don’t hold it against me.” He smirks.

  “Let me guess, you have a maid to clean up after you?”

  He shrugs. “She only comes once a week.”

  “Oh my God.” I groan. “This is...”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “It’s gorgeous. And the rent is probably double what I pay in a year for my dorm room.”

  “I wouldn’t know, my parents own the building.”

  “Of course they do.” He’s Princeton Charming, after all, heir to one of the wealthiest families in the state.

  “You think I’m a jackass, don’t you? Because of all this? And you’re probably right. But I have money of my own.”

  “That you’ve actually worked for?”

  He winces. “You going to hold it against me for having a small trust fund?”

  “Small, huh?”

  His shoulders lift and fall.

  I can’t even imagine what type of money he’s talking about, and I don’t want to know.

  “Money comes and goes,” I say.

  “I take care of what’s mine,” he says, striding toward me, a silent message in his eyes. He wants to own me.

  And there’s a part of me that wants it too. But it goes against everything I believe in, every women’s lib course that I’ve ever been a part of.

  “You can’t own people.” I jut my chin up at him.

  “I didn’t say I could.”

  “But you implied—”

  He takes my face in his hands and lets out a heavy breath. “I’m starting to think you like arguing.”

  “I am pre-law.”

  A deep rumble of laughter comes from his chest. “And you’ll make a damn good lawyer one day.”

  I’m acutely aware of the fact that for most of the day I’ve had Spencer’s undivided attention. As he moves closer to me, I am ready for that kiss he’s been teasing for hours. But my stomach rumbles. Loudly. And he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re really good at putting off the inevitable, Charlie.”

  I exhale, pressing my hands to my belly. “I haven’t eaten all day.”

  “Let’s fix that then, shall we?” Spencer pulls out his phone as we walk toward the kitchen. Granite counters, stainless steel, and when he opens the fridge to grab drinks, all it is stocked with are beverages.

  “Not a cook?”

  “Nope,” he laughs. Then he turns his phone toward me. “I’ll place an order for Chinese. Have any favorites?”

  Soon enough we have containers of take-out sprawled around his kitchen island. He sits on a bar stool and I’ve hitched myself up on the counter. The fact that he’s sitting right in front of me sends a warm burst of desire through me. It would take no time at all to spread my knees, to move between me, to give me the one thing I’ve always been too nervous to take.

  Chopsticks in hand, we inhale dinner. Noodles and potstickers and orange chicken. “A girl with an appetite,” he says. “God, I’m learning so much about you today.”

  “Girls you usually date prefer salad and—”

  He cuts me off. “I don’t want to talk about any other girls tonight, understood?”

  I nod, licking my lips. When he gets bossy, it sends a shiver over my spine. “I understand. But don’t get too controlling, Spencer Beckett. I won’t call you Sir, if that’s where you think this is headed.”

  His lips twitch and he sets down the box of Chinese. He sets his hands on my knees and I press my
lips together. This is going to happen.

  “Charlie, you’re really a piece of work, you know that?”

  “I didn’t, actually.”

  “Well, you are. And I like it.”

  “The challenge?”

  He shakes his head. “The chase.”

  I swallow as he stands, plucking the chopsticks from my fingers, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I think you won the bet,” I manage to eek out.

  He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, lifting my chin. “I told you I never lose.”

  “I’m starting to understand why.”

  He kisses me then, his mouth dipping to mine, his hands firm on my hips. He inches me closer to the edge of the counter and my legs wrap around his torso. This isn’t logical, methodical Charlotte. This is me, letting my emotions, my body lead me. I’ll go anywhere tonight.

  His lips part and his tongue finds mine and I sink into that kiss, into him. He lifts me from the counter, and I know it’s right. Him and me in this moment.

  I kiss him back with all the pent-up sexual energy I’ve never let loose. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I don’t fight it. I want to be his, even if it’s just for tonight.

  Up the stairs, we go. Panting for breath. Laughing.

  “I’m finally going to have you, Charlie,” he growls against my neck, kicking the door to his bedroom open. “You’re mine, now.”

  My arms are around his neck and he carries me as if I’m weightless. It’s the same way my heart feels right now. Like I am floating.

  In his room the lights are low, the sun has begun to set, sending brilliant pinks and purples through his windows. He presses a switch, blackout shades drop. The moment turns even more intimate as he places me on his enormous bed.

  “You look beautiful,” he says, leaning down, his arms on either side of me.

  I smirk, pressing a hand to my forehead. “In these ratty clothes? Yeah, a real hottie.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Getting bossy again, are you?”

  “About this, yes.” He lowers my hand. “You are beautiful Charlie. So fucking beautiful.”

 

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