by Scott, S. L.
28
Ally
“To the outside world, they have egos bigger than the Empire State Building, but to the people they love, there’s no one sweeter.” Singer props her feet on the coffee table and crosses her ankles. We’ve been chatting for the past hour as if we’re old friends. Leaning back, she whispers, “I’m sure you’ve found that Hutton, like Ethan, tends to keep his worries hidden. Bennett’s the same. Just like their father I’m told.”
“They hide things on purpose?”
“Yes, but to protect us, not to hurt us. Ethan never wants to worry me, but how can I not? Not knowing anything makes it worse. No secrets. Stand your ground, Ally. Hutton will respect that just like Ethan does.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe I’m simply tired of holding my worries inside, concerns I can’t necessarily share with Hutton for fear of hurting him, but she’s put me at ease, and my guard is down. I tuck my legs under me and sink into the back cushion. Angling toward her, I say, “I had a fight with my father, and he kicked me out.”
Her eyebrows rise just a little, and then she reaches over and touches my arm. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, but like you said, Hutton is worried about what I’ll decide to do.” I look down at my glass of wine and swirl it around.
She sits back. “Decide?”
“My father said he’ll keep me from becoming queen.”
“Can he do that?”
“My mother may be the queen, but my father has equal rights when it comes to me.” I take a deep breath and exhale before sipping my wine. “That night, I was sure he was just mad, and he’d get over it, but it’s been two days, and I haven’t heard a word from anyone. I’m starting to worry that I made a mistake by leaving.”
“He told you to go, so what are you going to do?”
It’s been so long since I had girl time, really since Austin, that I’m savoring every second. It helps that Singer is an open book and makes it easy to relax and talk openly. “I don’t know. I was born to be the queen. I was raised knowing I would be. It didn’t matter what I’d done or how far I pushed my father’s buttons, I never thought I could have my birthright taken from me.”
Thinking about what has happened in the past forty-eight hours, it starts to sink in. I might not have the choice I thought I did.
She asks, “Do you mind me asking what caused the fight?”
I smile, not because of the fight, but because of the reason. Anytime I think of Hutton, I feel happy, even when I’m down. “I embarrassed him. I wasn’t dressed appropriately, so he called me a whore.”
“Oh wow. That’s harsh. That must have really hurt.”
“It didn’t at first. I’ve made him mad before, and I’ve been yelled at plenty of times. But as time has passed, I see the difference in his words and how he treated me, especially because he said it in front of company. This isn’t going to be me being grounded for a night or under lock and key for a week.” His expression comes to mind and more hate than anger filled his words. “I think this time he meant everything he said.”
“I’m sorry. He’s wrong. I don’t even have to know what you were wearing to know the clothes don’t matter. It sounds like he was looking for a fight, and he found one.”
I set my glass on the table. My emotions are growing heavy, and I don’t want to be drunk under the weight of them. “He figured out there’s more to Hutton and me than meets the eyes.”
“Ohhh. That changes things but really surprises me. He doesn’t like Hutton? Everyone loves Hutton.”
“He liked him when it came to business. When it came to his daughter, yeah, not so much.” The duke comes to mind. “My father is very old-fashioned and follows Brudenbourg tradition.”
“Regarding you?”
“Yes. Love isn’t a factor that’s considered when deciding which proposal to accept.”
“He decides who you’ll marry?”
“My parents have the first and final say.” I sit up as my anxiety grows deep inside. “Offers are submitted, negotiations are had, and a deal is struck.” I’ve never thought of myself as a pawn before. I never knew love would be so important to me either.
Singer sits up too, setting her glass down. “Has a deal been struck?” Her own concern whispers through her words.
“An offer was accepted. One that’s been on the table since my birth. It’s a suitor I was aware of and he’s always been in my life, but he’s . . .” I’ve never been one to share every feeling the moment I feel it. I’m much better at burying my emotions and acting out. “He’s always felt more like an older brother to me, a bully at times. He scares me, but he’s not my prince and certainly not a lover.”
“That’s horrible. And Hutton?”
“He’s everything the other man is not.” The response comes so naturally that I surprise myself. As her smile brightens, I look back at Hutton over my shoulder. The guys are laughing while Bennett tells a story.
“You love Hutton.”
“Yes.”
She glances at them as well but then turns back to me. Her smile sets, and worry rises in her expression. “He’s in love with you, so what happens if you go back?
“To him or me?”
“Both of you.”
“I’m not sure.”
A gentle nod of her head makes me feel bad when our time has been so good. Wanting her approval, her friendship back intact again, I say, “Am I supposed to give up something I was born to do?”
“It’s a difficult situation. I worry about Hutton, but now that we’re friends, I’m worried about you too. I don’t know the answers or what you’re going to do, but all I ask is whatever you choose, be gentle.”
“To Hutton?”
“And to yourself.” Standing up, she says, “That cream is calling my name. Come on. Let’s go eat it.” She holds out a hand, and I take it.
She’s given me a new way to think about things, and although I knew the impact of my initial decision, I never thought about the long-term effects of it. She may push me away, call me a weirdo, or feel the same. I don’t know, but when I stand, I hug her. And she hugs me. “I’m always here to lend an ear if you need to talk, Ally. The guys are great, but sometimes we need a female friend’s company.” How did she know I needed to hear those words? Feel this support?
Camaraderie.
Friendship.
Family.
“Thank you.”
Just after two in the morning, Hutton and I walk back into his apartment. Walk might be an overstatement regarding him, but we make it back. He heads to the kitchen and pours a glass of water. I set the bowl that held the cream in the sink and fill it with water to soak, feeling very domestic and loving every second. This feels like us—our place, our bowl. What a regular night together would be like. I turn around, leaning on the sink, and say, “I like the penthouse, but I love your apartment.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s cozy.” When I look at the island between us, there are two glasses. Even drunk, he thinks of my needs.
He chuckles. “It’s forty-one-hundred square feet. It’s bigger than my parents’ house.”
“I know it sounds crazy, but the palace is so big that I used to get lost. Here, with you, I feel like I’ve found myself.”
“Come over here.”
I push off and walk around the island. There’s always been an electric current that draws us together, but this time, it’s our heartstrings. I walk right into his arms and am embraced in his love. Closing my eyes, I listen to his heart, memorizing the sound, the steady beat, and the rhythm that plays for me. “I want to tell you to stay.” The top of my head is kissed. “But you have a country to rule. All I ask is that while you’re here, you’re mine.”
“That’s not all you can ask of me.”
“We both know that once you leave, this is all there will ever be.”
My arms tighten around
him as his do me. “I’m not leaving.”
“Yet. And with that yet, all I ask is that I get a little warning this time.” He exhales and releases me. Finishing off his water, he says, “I like the way you arranged the flowers.”
I look at the table and the three mugs full of pretty roses. “Why did you buy pink roses?”
“I bought them for you, but you were asleep. I’m sorry I didn’t give them to you.”
Running my hand over his chest, I look into his tired eyes. “Don’t feel bad. When I woke up and found them, I thought they were so pretty. I couldn’t find a vase, so I got creative.”
“I like them like that. It’s very girly, like you.”
I know what he means. In an apartment that feels modern with clean lines and grays and navy blues, the soft pink adds such a light and pretty feel. “Did you buy pink for a reason?”
“Love. Gratitude. Appreciation.” A slight embarrassment comes over him. “I cheated and looked up the meaning. I feel all those things for you, so pink seemed to be a fitting color.”
My heart tightens. I don’t want to lose this man. Holding him tight again, I close my eyes. “I feel the same for you.”
He rubs my back, and after a few seconds, he says, “Are you ready to go to bed?”
“I am.” We hold hands, and I take a glass of water in the other. We’re both tired, but I’ve had a few glasses of wine, so I need the water.
“You talked with Singer for a long time. How’d that go?”
“I adore her.” We head for the bedroom. “I felt so comfortable around her. It was as if we’d known each other forever.”
“She has a way about her that makes everyone feel at home, but I could tell she really likes you.”
“She’s very fond of you, protective.” He nods as we part in the bedroom. I slip off my shoes. “I told her I didn’t need to shop because she sent me a whole wardrobe.”
“Like my brother, Singer has gone through a lot in the past year. It’s good to see her coming out of her shell with others again.”
“Ethan’s very enamored by her.”
Just as I slip off my jeans, Hutton’s warm hands heat my waist. “I’m very enamored by you.” Leaning down, he kisses me—not to lead to more, just sweet and shared affection. “Want the bathroom first?”
It’s a simple gesture, but it means the world to me. “How about we brush our teeth together?”
“I’ll get them ready.”
“I’m not using the bathroom in front of you, though.” I laugh because I’ve never done it before, and I’m not starting now.
“Good. You don’t need to see behind the curtain. We’ll just keep things clean.”
“And here I thought you preferred me dirty.”
“Ahhh,” he groans as if I’ve hit a weak spot. Sucking a breath between his teeth, he then releases it. “I might be talked into getting dirty if you’re up for it.”
“It’s not me I worry about being up.” I glance at his pants.
“Oh, cheap shot. What’d my dick do to you for such a mean comment?” I love seeing this playful side of him.
“It’s what he’s not doing that warranted the comment.” I fling my bra at him and walk by, teasing him with every step I take.
“Why’d you let me drink so much?” he asks, trailing me into the bathroom.
“You were having too good of a time to stop you.”
Stepping behind me, he presses his body to mine, and his hands slide up my middle until he cups my breasts. The pulse in my core begins to throb, but I know we need to sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll face our problems and start making decisions. Tonight, we need to turn off our minds.
He kisses my neck. “Bed?”
“Sleep?”
“Yes to both.”
* * *
The shower is started, rousing me from a deep sleep. The blinds are still pulled, but the daylight is trying to sneak in. I turn and glance at the clock. It’s 8:14 as Hutton comes in.
Unaware I’m awake, a sober and sexy Hutton walks out of the bathroom wearing gym shorts and sneakers. With his back to me, he slips off his shoes and socks. I sit up to take in the full view. His muscles are tight and on display. His body glistens from sweat, his hair wet from a workout.
The shorts and briefs come down and his buttocks contract and tense with the motion, highlighting the indents on the side of his cheeks. I admire the body, but I admire the man more. He takes care of himself physically, but how is he holding up mentally? I’m sure he’s just as confused as I am.
He tosses the clothes in the laundry basket and returns to the bathroom. We’ve shared a thousand emotions and our fears, worries, and laughs. With so much light shining back into my life, I decide now’s the time to make my move.
29
Hutton
Working out is always a surefire way for me to sweat out the toxins after a hard night of drinking. I wasn’t drunk, but I was past the stage of being useful. I was having fun, and seeing Ally and Singer bond made the night even better.
When all she wants is to be the queen, is it possible for her to see herself in this life, in my life, permanently?
And what do I want?
I want Ally.
What does that mean when her father will never let her marry me? Will she marry the duke?
Makeup smeared. Crooked tiara. Messed-up hair.
Fuck.
She’ll be with him over my dead body.
I won’t lose her. Not again. Not ever.
Having her here with me has made my apartment feel like a home for the first time since I moved to New York.
I want her laughter echoing in the kitchen and to see her standing at the window. I want to leave the office at a decent time because I have someone to come home to. I want her middle-of-the-night kisses and to hear that soft snore she doesn’t even realize she does. I’ll eat Bavarian cream every night if that’s all she ever learns to make. I can order the rest. I can learn to cook more than a few bachelor meals. She can rule my kingdom, make any decisions she wants, and I’ll be her loyal subject. Ally’s the queen of my heart.
But can I be the king she needs?
Will I have a choice?
Guess that remains to be seen. I hope she got a good night’s sleep because we have a lot to discuss today. I step under the hot water, letting it roll over my sore shoulders. It wasn’t arms day, but I did a full body workout anyway, needing to burn energy and take my mind off things. It only worked temporarily, so I jogged four miles on the treadmill at a higher than usual incline. Even after all that work, the freed mind space was flooded with the same concerns I’ve had for days the moment I walked in and saw her in my bed again.
While I soap up, the door to the bathroom opens, and I catch sight of my beauty before she sees me. We both can see everything through the glass shower surround. Our eyes meet through the steam as she walks toward me. Opening the door, she says, “Good morning.”
“Good morning. Sorry I woke you.”
“It’s okay. I got a nice view.” She asks, “Can I join you?”
“Please do.” I have showerheads all around, so I spin her to keep her warm under the few I’ve turned on while I activate the others. She rubs soap all over her body, stealing my job.
Silently, we both wash our hair, the act of watching each other intimate. It’s impossible to not react as her hands slip between her legs, causing her lids to waver. When she looks back up at me, she releases a long breath and then licks her lips. As the other rain showerhead covers me in water, I watch as she rinses her hair, tilting her head back. Her eyes close, and her moan goes straight to my dick, waking my whole body up.
She doesn’t fail to notice. Coming closer, Ally slides her hand along my length and then grips me firmly and comes back up. “Kiss me, Hutton.”
It’s not a desperate plea but comes from a place of love. I cup her face as she continues to work me and kiss her, evoking a deep sigh of contentment. She brings the same out in me.
&nb
sp; Every stroke fans the fire inside until I’m a raging blaze of desire. “Turn around.” I’m not asking, my own need taking over.
Her hand stops, and she puts space between us. “No.” A challenge is thrown down with a look of lust in her eyes. The water rains over our shoulders, and this time, I ask, “What do you want, Princess?”
I reach out and run two fingers between her legs, feeling her need. She says, “I want to please you.”
“You do.”
“I want to serve you.” Her breath is rough around the edges when she sucks in, and I caress her cheek to help steady it. I’m about to ask what she means by serving me when she kneels in front of me.
Weaving my hands into her hair, I hold her by the back of her head. As if waiting for me, I give her the permission she’s seeking. “Don’t stop until you’ve swallowed every last drop. Do you understand me?”
She nods. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, my king.”
And here I am, finally playing the role she wants. I nod, and she takes me, her hot mouth hardening me more than I thought possible. I ache for relief as she sucks me deep and glides back with a tease of her teeth. Guiding her head, I set the pace, and she bends to my needs.
There’s no complaint as she takes every thrust as though she can’t get enough. When I grip her hair, I pull enough for her to look up. Her usually clear blue eyes are gray with brewing rainstorms. Her hands slide around, holding me, and I give up control to let her have her way. “Take what you need, baby.”
Long hair slick down her back, shoulders straight, weighted teardrop tits bare with begging nipples. Her body squirms as she sends me to the edge. I press my hand flat against the glass behind me but struggle to stop her. I should but—“Fuck. Get up.”
The command startles her, but she’s on her feet, her breath heavy, lips swollen. Fuck me. I touch her mouth, dragging my thumb harsher than I intend. “These lips will never touch another man. Do you understand me?” I levy my thumb right in the middle of her bottom lip. “They will only kiss my mouth. They will only suck my dick. They will only ever say my name in ecstasy. Do you understand, Princess Arabelle?” Her name is a growling curse on my sharp tongue. “Do you?”