Royal Holiday

by Guillory, Jasmine

  They shared not two, but three desserts, and each had a glass of port to go along with it. When Vivian walked out into the cold London night, she was in love with Nigerian food, London, and all forms of fermented grapes. She put the hood of her coat up against the gentle rain, slid her arm into Malcolm’s, and smiled at the world.

  “What a great restaurant,” she said. “No wonder you like it.”

  He pulled her closer to him.

  “Nothing like that has ever happened to me there! All I knew was that the food was delicious and the service was charming. I didn’t realize we’d get a show tonight, too.”

  Vivian chuckled as they walked toward his car.

  “I thought I was going to die if I had to hold my laughter in for one more second, Malcolm! When he kept eating the soup! Every time he picked up the spoon with this deep breath, like he was summoning up all of his energy. I’m surprised he didn’t catch me laughing at him.”

  Malcolm chuckled as he opened his car door for her.

  “Men like that never think anyone could be laughing at them. That’s why it’s so fun to do it.”

  On the way back to the hotel, Malcolm took a detour so they’d see some of London all lit up at night. She loved driving through cities at night, especially when she wasn’t the one driving, and could just look around and see the buildings aglow, and the bridges outlined by the stars, and the blackness of the river gleaming in the moonlight.

  When they got back to the hotel, Vivian didn’t want the night to end.

  “Do you want to come upstairs for a nightcap?” she said, before she could reconsider. She immediately wished she had reconsidered. A nightcap??? Who the hell did she think she was, some sort of star in a comedy from the 1940s? She’d never used that word before in her life!

  But Malcolm immediately nodded.

  “That’s a lovely idea,” he said. “Should we get the bar to make some hot toddies for us?”

  Vivian nodded.

  “Yes, absolutely. It’s chilly out there.”

  Malcolm beckoned over the bartender as they walked by the bar, and moments later he held two of the fanciest hot toddies she’d ever seen.

  They walked to the elevators, arm in arm. When they got inside the elevator, she smiled at him.

  “I didn’t know hotel bars would make drinks for you to bring upstairs; I was only thinking of the minibar. See how much I learn from you?”

  He laughed.

  “Oh, most hotel bars will do that, but one thing I’ve learned in my job is that you can get anyone to do just about anything if a) you give them enough money, or b) they think you’re important.” He winked at her. “And they do know me here.”

  She held up her finger.

  “That makes me think of something else I’ve been meaning to bring up: Maddie was certain she’d booked us just a regular room with two beds, but somehow we were booked in a suite. Do you know anything about that?”

  He shrugged, but the smile never left his eyes.

  “I imagine they realized when you checked in that you were American—London hotel rooms are often too small for Americans. I’m sure they just wanted to accommodate you.”

  She rolled her eyes as the elevator doors opened.

  “Mmm. I’m sure that’s it.”

  She pulled out her room key and unlocked the door of the suite.

  “See? We have this little sitting room here, with a couch and everything, in addition to our pretty sizable bedroom. Do you—”

  Oh no. Oh no, why hadn’t she remembered before she brought him up to her room that she’d packed everything this morning and had left her suitcase right in the middle of the sitting room?

  Maybe he’d think it was empty, and she’d just moved it there when Maddie was packing up to go. Maybe he wouldn’t realize she’d packed everything in anticipation/hope of going to his apartment.

  “Vivian? What’s your suitcase doing there?” He poked his head into the open door of the bedroom. “Are you all packed? Were you planning to leave tomorrow?”

  His face was wooden again, just like it had been this morning. The only thing she could do here was come clean with the truth.

  “No. I mean, yes, maybe, but not . . .” She sighed. “When you first brought up the idea of me staying in London, you made a reference to staying with you, and I didn’t know if . . . I hoped that . . . but it’s okay, I understand if that’s not what you really want—”

  Before she finished her sentence, Malcolm was kissing her so hard she could barely breathe.

  Vivian wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back just as hard. Breathing was overrated.

  When he finally came up for air, they looked at each other, and both started laughing.

  Malcolm brushed her hair back from her face.

  “Vivian. Would you like to stay with me for the rest of your time in London?”

  She shook her head. The smile dropped from Malcolm’s face, and he took a step back.

  “Oh. Sorry, I thought—”

  She held a finger in front of his lips.

  “You didn’t let me talk. I’d love to stay with you, starting tomorrow. But tonight there’s no way either one of us is leaving this hotel room.”

  She pushed him down onto the couch.

  Chapter Ten

  It took surprisingly little time for Malcolm to get Vivian’s clothes off. Not that Malcolm had thought he would be slow about that, but given that they barely took their hands and lips off of each other, he was impressed with himself.

  Vivian was pretty industrious herself; he barely noticed her fingers on his shirt, but before he even sat up, she’d pushed it to the floor.

  But he absolutely noticed her fingers at his waist. She undid his belt and pulled down his zipper. Before she could get any further, he stood up, threw the rest of his clothes off, and pulled her back on top of him.

  They stayed on the couch for a long time, kissing, touching, exploring each other’s bodies. He loved seeing what made her gasp, what made her sigh, what made her giggle. And he really loved feeling her, at first tentative, then more confident, hands and lips on him. She ran her hands up and down his hips, then over the length of his hard cock, slowly, then faster and faster. He shook his head and stood up.

  “Why are we on this cramped little couch when there’s a great big bed in the other room?” He reached out a hand to her, and she took it.

  “Excellent question, Mr. Hudson.” She looked up and down the length of his body and smiled. “All of that horseback riding seems to be treating you well.”

  He grinned, and looked straight at her.

  “Whatever you are doing looks tremendous on you, Ms. Forest.”

  She shook her head.

  “Thank you for saying that, but . . .”

  He took her hand and moved it down the length of his body again.

  “Does that feel like I’m ‘saying that’? I didn’t spend the past week spending every possible second thinking about this moment to just be ‘saying that,’ do you understand?”

  She lifted her face to his and kissed him on the lips.

  “You were right. It’s definitely time to move to the bed.”

  Vivian pulled back the covers and then stopped.

  “No. Oh no.” She turned to him. “Do you have condoms?”

  Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

  “No. I didn’t realize today would end like this!”

  She laughed.

  “Well, part of me is grateful you didn’t presume, but the part of me that wants to have sex right now is furious you weren’t more prepared.” She looked around the room. “I always tell women they should be prepared themselves, and here I am not taking my own advice. But in my defense, I didn’t think to pack condoms on a trip to England with my daughter!”

  He was also furious with himself for not being more prepared.

  “Well, there are things we can do that don’t necessitate a condom,” he said.

  She laughed.

  �
��Oh, the enthusiasm!”

  He squeezed her ass, and she giggled again.

  “I am very enthusiastic about all of the things we could do tonight, with or without a condom; I just wish we could do them all!” He kissed her hair. “Or we could put our clothes back on and go back to my apartment?”

  She pushed him away and held up a finger.

  “I have a better idea.”

  She walked over to the minibar and picked up a box.

  “I saw this the day we checked in and completely forgot about it until right now. It’s a ‘personal care’ box, and”—she tore open the box and looked up at him with a grin—“there are two condoms inside! God bless us, every one.”

  He grabbed her and kissed her hard.

  “You, Ms. Vivian Forest, are brilliant and observant, as well as being charming and altogether too sexy for your own good.” He fell with her onto the bed and rolled over on top of her.

  “If you just said that to ensure we make good use of these, well . . . okay, fine, I’m in.” She smiled from underneath him and slid her hands down his body until she reached his butt, then squeezed.

  He laughed out loud.

  “I would have said that no matter what, but your reaction to it shows me exactly why I’ve been smitten with you since the first moment I saw you.” He crawled down her body and kissed her neck, her collarbone, then lingered for a very long time at her breasts, until her moans got so loud he had to keep moving down.

  She let out that giggle again when he got there, but her laughter quickly turned into sighs and then moans again, and her hands clutched his head until she gasped and her whole body relaxed.

  He slid back to the head of the bed, and she put her arms around him and laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked as he pulled her toward him.

  He could feel her smile against his chest.

  “Everything about this is funny in the best possible way,” she said. “That we met each other in the first place, that you took me horseback riding, that you managed to convince me to stay in England, that the man who introduced me to the Queen gave me the best orgasm I’ve had in years.” She laughed again. “This whole situation is hilarious and I love it.”

  She sat up, reached over to the side of the bed, and grabbed one of the condoms from the hotel kit.

  “And while I very much appreciate you giving me a moment to rest just there, I don’t want to let these condoms go to waste. Do you?”

  Oh, he liked this woman so much. He sat up and took the condom from her hand.

  “Absolutely not.”

  He tore the package open. Not his favorite brand, but he would take anything at this point. She watched him roll the condom on, and if it was possible for him to get harder, her steady gaze on his cock would have accomplished it.

  She pulled him toward her and kissed him. As they kissed, he pushed her slowly back onto the bed, so he was on top of her again. She had that wicked smile on her face once more as he pushed inside of her, then she closed her eyes and her smile softened.

  “Mmm. That feels so good.”

  She’d taken the words right out of his mouth.

  They moved together, first slowly, as they both figured each other out. Did she like it like this . . . or like that? Did she like it when he touched her here, too, or was that too much? He could tell she was making the same calculations about him, which made him like her even more.

  But soon, it felt too good for him to keep thinking. He just moved, harder and harder, and the way she moved with him and clutched at him and whispered into his ear told him how much she liked all of this.

  Finally, he thrust everything he had into her and let out a loud yell into the pillow. He collapsed back onto the bed and pulled her on top of him.

  “Wow,” he said, when he could breathe again.

  She kissed his shoulder.

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  The next morning, Vivian woke up with the blankets tucked around her and Malcolm breathing softly next to her. She looked at him, still sound asleep, sighed in contentment, then grinned up at the ceiling.

  Who would have ever thought that she, Vivian Forest, would wake up on December 29 in a fancy hotel room in London, in bed with a very attractive man? She certainly wouldn’t have thought so. But here she was, and goodness, was she happy about it.

  Thank God Maddie had made her stay in London. What if she’d been scared and stubborn and had flown home with Maddie the day before and had missed out on last night? She shuddered to think about it.

  She got up and went to the bathroom, then slid back under the covers next to Malcolm. He opened his eyes and pulled her close to him.

  “Good morning.” He kissed her shoulder, her cheek, her forehead.

  “Good morning.” She smiled up at him. “I believe we have one more condom. What do you say to—”

  Before she could finish her sentence, he growled and pulled her underneath him, as she giggled again. How was this man able to both make her laugh this much and turn her on this much?

  After a very successful use of the last condom, they curled back up in bed together. Malcolm kissed her on the cheek.

  “So. We have three more full days together, and I think we would both agree that most of yesterday didn’t go so well.” He sat up, turned to her, and took a deep breath. “And that’s all my fault.”

  She sat up, too.

  “No, Malcolm, it wasn’t—”

  He stopped her.

  “Please don’t argue with me; we both know it’s true. But let me explain why.” He sighed. “I lied to you yesterday.”

  She just waited. Whatever this was, it was a big deal to him.

  “About Miles. That’s not what his big news was. It was that he’d gotten into an art school for next year and is giving up his place at Oxford.” Her mouth dropped open, and he nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly how I felt. We had a massive fight about it. And now he’s even more determined to do this, Sarah is furious at me for encouraging him with his art in the first place, and for not finding a way to talk him out of this, and I’m furious at both Miles and myself.”

  It was obviously very hard for him to tell her this. She was grateful he trusted her enough to open up to her. She reached for his hand, and he squeezed it.

  “This all sounds so hard. Do you want to tell me how it happened?”

  He turned on his elbow toward her and nodded.

  “Rather strangely, I do.” And then the whole story spilled out of him—about how excited his nephew had been, how perplexed and then angry Malcolm had been, what Miles had said about passion and his father, what Malcolm had said about securing his future, how they’d both yelled, how Miles had stormed out.

  “I’m sorry, Malcolm.” She took his hand.

  He kissed hers, then smiled at her.

  “Thanks. I’m sorry for taking all of this out on you yesterday. I’ve been in a foul mood since Christmas Day, trying to figure out what to do and how to fix it and if Miles is ruining his life, and if I’ve ruined our relationship forever. I thought spending time with you would help push it all out of my head, but instead your questions about Miles and your happy stories about your daughter just made me think about everything I did wrong. And plus . . .”

  He opened his mouth to say something more, but instead just shook his head.

  “Plus what? Really, you can tell me,” she said.

  He let out a huge sigh.

  “This is also why your thing about surprises caught me off guard yesterday, and I’m sorry I acted like such a boor about it. But the only thing I’ve done in the past few days, other than fret about the situation with Miles, was to plan a few small things for us, and I was looking forward to surprising you, so when you said that, I didn’t know what to do.” He laughed. “Which of course means everything you said about surprises is completely right—my desire to surprise you is all about me, and not you. Ouch. Right, here were my plans—”

  This time, she stopped him.
>
  “Wait. I said all of that off the cuff. I hadn’t realized you had actually planned surprises for me. Why don’t I tell you exactly what I hate about surprises, and we can see if we can figure out a way to make this work for both of us.”

  He ran his fingers through her very tangled ponytail.

  “You’re so good at problem-solving. I feel like Parliament could use you.” He shook his head. “No, they’d never listen to someone as logical as you. All right, tell me everything you hate.”

  More people should ask her to do that.

  “Okay, for starters, there’s so much managing someone else’s emotions along with your own. You have to monitor your facial expression so well, and make sure it’s reflecting what it’s supposed to reflect, and as you may have noticed about me, I have a pretty expressive face.” He laughed, and she grinned at him. “You’ve noticed, have you? Here’s an example of that: I was so relieved that my boss emailed me that he was going to retire and he wanted me to become director after him. I was so taken aback by the email, I almost dropped my tea. If he’d told me in person, and I didn’t manage to get ahold of myself quickly enough, he might have thought I was horrified by the idea of the job.”

  Malcolm nodded.

  “That makes sense. What else?”

  “I hate that everything is out of my hands.” She ticked off her fingers. “Where I’m going, what I’m doing, even often who I’m with. There’s nothing I hate more than a surprise party, where you’re never in the clothes you would want to be wearing, someone always invited a person you hate, and you have to do the whole gasp, huge smile, ‘Oh my God!’ thing.”

  She glanced at him and sighed.

  “I can see what you’re thinking, and yes indeed, my ex did throw me surprise parties on more than one occasion, and yes, I hated them every single time, and yes, we did get in fights after every single one, because I didn’t appreciate everything he did to throw the parties. But those parties were about him, not me. It took me a long time to realize that.”

  He kept running his fingers through her hair.

  “Was this Maddie’s dad?”

  She nodded.

  “Yeah, Maddie’s dad. He and I broke up when Maddie was little, but we’d been together for a while before that. Granted, we broke up thirty years ago, but I guess there are some things that stick around.”