by Tee, Marian
The girl moaned and buckled against him, her hands going to the prince’s hair to clutch his head as she pushed her nipple deeper into the prince’s mouth.
Was that what Grant had wanted to do with her that night?
The girl had her eyes closed, a delirious expression on her face. “Fuck me now.”
Fawn was stunned to hear the note of desperate begging in the girl’s voice.
“Please, Reid. Fuck me.”
The prince’s chuckle made the girl shudder, and so did Fawn.
She couldn’t believe it.
Her gaze went down her body, which felt so...restlessly alive.
What was happening to her?
Fawn whirled around clumsily, no longer wanting to see anything. She covered her ears, but she could still hear them—-
The girl gasping the prince’s name out, over and over—-
The prince’s soft, low growls—-
The sound of their bodies meeting each other—-
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Think of Grant.
Grant, Grant, Grant.
And slowly, his handsome face crystallized in her mind.
Grant.
Her heartbeat started to slow down to a regular pace.
She could see it now, the way his lips would curl in a kind, teasing smile. He was that kind of guy, always smiling, always nice, always ready to help out and make people happy.
Grant.
Behind her, the girl gasped, “I’m c-coming.”
At the same time, her phone rang from her pocket, playing out the chorus of Stonebolt’s I Will Still Love You.
Holy shit! She had forgotten to silence it!
Fawn scrambled to end the call, not even bothering to check who was calling her. She waited tensely for the prince and the girl to appear any moment, but a full minute passed and nothing happened.
Oh, thank God.
Seriously, thank You God.
She fell to her knees, closed her eyes, and found herself praying in sheer relief. When she was done, she turned around, still on her knees, and the first thing she saw was the prince staring down at her, half-naked, his pants partially unzipped.
Shock had her scrambling back, and a moment later she fell on her butt.
The prince said lazily, “I didn’t peg you to be a voyeur, parthena mou.”
There it was again, she thought nervously. She still couldn’t recall the term that Paula had tried to teach her, but it really sounded like what the prince was telling her.
“I d-didn’t mean to watch,” she stammered, looking up at him. “But then so many things happened, one minute you were just kissing, and then you were purring, she was clawing, and it was just so fast.”
As she spoke, Fawn’s hands moved in tandem, re-enacting the kiss by making her two hands meet as if puckering before turning into claws to rake the air. She didn’t seem aware of this at all, but the prince was, and it was all he could do to keep his face expressionless.
“And,” she ended, “that’s what’s happened.”
“I see.”
Did he seriously? She said uneasily, “I promise, I truly didn’t mean to, you know. Besides, I’m not used to...because, Grant’s kinda big—-”
The prince’s amusement fled. “Excuse me?” He could not believe that she was the same girl who had told her she had seen him half-naked more often than she had her boyfriend.
That had obviously changed, he thought bitterly.
Fuck you, Grant Bennett.
Fawn gulped at the cold look on the prince’s face. Holy crap. Was he furious! Why? All she meant was that Grant was really big on waiting for the right time these days, after what happened post-prom. She said in a small voice, “I’m not l-lying. He really is—-”
The prince wanted to strangle her. “Big.” Did this girl have to rub it in his face?
“Yes, he is big—-”
The prince cut her off, saying icily, “Bigger than me, is that it?”
“Well...” Her mouth opened and closed. Did he want her to lie? She had just seen him make love to another girl, for instance, and that girl was different from the ones she had seen him with in the past weeks. He didn’t wait at all.
When it was obvious she couldn’t make herself lie, he snapped, “Never mind.” He wanted to kill someone, preferably a guy whose name was Grant Bennett and had the fortune of having Fawn’s virginity.
Fuck you, Grant Bennett.
“I’m s-sorry—-”
Because she pitied him, the prince thought grimly. Stepping back, he said coldly, “If I catch you in this situation again, you’re fired.” He stalked away and slammed his bedroom door shut behind him.
Fawn Cornwall was no longer a virgin, Grant Bennett had a bigger dick than he did, and she pitied him because of it.
Fuck you to hell, Grant Bennett.
WHEN FAWN SAW GRANT’S car backing into one of the parking slots outside the restaurant, she breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, some normal time. Heads turned as he entered, and the girls a few tables away started to giggle and whisper.
I can totally relate, Fawn thought. If she had someone with her, she would have giggled and whispered as well. With his athletic, gym-buffed build, ash blond hair, and blue eyes, Grant had the looks of a celebrity, which he could have been if he had wanted to.
Back in high school, he had been wooed endlessly by modeling agencies and talent scouts, but Grant had refused them all without hesitation.
I’m just a simple guy, Grant had liked to say, and when he and Fawn had started going out, he had changed his excuse, saying, I’d like to, but I’m afraid my girlfriend might not like it. She wants me to look at her and just her.
Of course, he had only said those things to tease her, and it had worked, making her feel embarrassed and thrilled at the same time. It had also made other girls hate her even more, but when she had told him that, Grant had only laughed it off.
Across the restaurant, she saw Grant’s eyes gleam and his face soften upon finding her, and she couldn’t help grinning giddily.
I love you, Grant.
Upon reaching her, he bent down to kiss her cheek. “Miss you, luv.”
“M-miss you, too,” she mumbled shyly.
Taking the seat across her, he chuckled at her flaming face. “I love making you blush.”
Turning even redder, she admitted in a pained voice, “I don’t know if I could ever learn to outgrow it.”
He grinned. “That’s exactly what I want to hear.”
His phone started to ring then, and surprised to see him cancelling the call, she said worriedly, “I’m okay if you take it.” She knew how busy he was, not just with his work with the Student Council but with practice as captain of the university’s polo team.
“It’s okay.” He shut his phone down and placed it on the table. “This is our time.”
She blushed again. “Grant.” He really was the sweetest guy, she thought dreamily. He always had a hundred things to do each day, but he always made sure to call her every night and celebrate every little milestone in her life.
Like now.
“Congratulations.” Although they had managed to meet a few times, it was only today that Grant could celebrate with Fawn for getting a new job. “I can’t believe you’re working for Reid Chalkias.”
“Me either,” she said feelingly and tried not to let her unease show as she remembered last night’s disastrous incident.
The waiter came to take their orders then, and as what was usual between them, she left it to Grant to do all the talking and decision-making. As Grant gave their orders, Fawn was content to simply gaze at him and marvel at her luck. I am the luckiest girl in the world. He could have anyone in the world, but he had chosen her.
She watched him close the menu and hand it back to the waiter, the muscles on his arms flexing as he did. It suddenly reminded her of the prince and that girl—-
Would it be different now, she wondered. Could it feel better now that
she was older and she had seen how good it could feel?
“You’re staring at me again, luv.”
Oh! She cringed, realizing he was right and she hadn’t even noticed the waiter leaving. “Sorry,” she stammered. “I was just—-”
“Admiring the view?”
Eager to seize any excuse, she said right away, “Absolutely.” Then she realized what she had admitted. “I mean, no.” When Grant looked hurt, she said quickly, “I mean, yes.” But then Fawn realized what that meant, and she half-wailed, “Stop confusing me!”
Chuckling, Grant reached for her across the table and, unmindful of the stares coming from other patrons, held Fawn’s face as he placed a sweet, lingering kiss on her lips.
Her toes curled and her breath hitched in her throat.
This was it.
She would feel the same thing.
And this time, if he wanted to make love to her, she wouldn’t refuse.
Fawn was about to kiss him back—-
But it was already over.
Oh.
Fawn didn’t know what to think as she watched Grant pull away. He had to know she was about to kiss him back...right?
Seemingly oblivious to the disappointment on her face, he asked her with a smile, “How’s work?”
And now he was changing the subject before she could ask him what was wrong, Fawn realized. She asked slowly, “Is everything alright?”
“Just business as usual,” Grant answered readily, “with playoffs coming up, and more work from the council, but other than that...” He shrugged.
She gazed at him searchingly, but she couldn’t find anything that indicated he was indeed reluctant to kiss her. I must have been imagining things, Fawn thought uncertainly.
“I’m more interested in you,” Grant was saying. “How are you doing at your job?”
Clearing her throat, she managed a smile as she said carefully, “It’s great.”
“Nothing too odd or something I should worry about?”
She thought about the security measures at the prince’s residence, like the twenty-foot walls and the biometric scanning employees had to go through before entering the premises. Then there was the parapet – an honest-to-goodness parapet! – built next to the security walls, its walkway patrolled by heavily armed guards round the clock.
But other than that?
“Nope,” she answered. “Everything’s perfect.”
“And the prince?” Grant rolled his eyes at the last word, which she pretended not to notice. “Is he okay as a boss?”
She suddenly remembered the prince, sucking on another girl’s breast—-
“Fawn?”
Clearing her throat, she lied, “He’s cool.”
“You’re sure?”
The women who hung around him thought so at least, she thought. Carefully averting her gaze from Grant, she mumbled, “He’s just like any other boss.”
“What about the parties?” Grant pressed with a frown. “I heard they can get pretty wild.”
Everything about the prince’s parties was beyond wild, but it wasn’t like she could tell Grant that. She said very firmly, “The rumors about his parties are quite exaggerated.” And right away, she added with an inner wince, I’m sorry, Grant. She had always been honest with him, but ever since she had come to work for the prince, she had found herself lying just about everything.
But that’s okay, she told herself. She didn’t have a choice. If Grant found out the truth about her job, he would demand that she quit, and she’d end up broke and, eventually, desperate enough to take another job sponsored by her fiancé’s family.
“What about his place? How does it look like? I read somewhere it looks like paradise or something?”
Finally, Fawn thought in relief. Something she could actually answer honestly! And so she revealed eagerly, “It’s even better, Grant. The driveway’s picturesque enough, but when you see the main house—-” She found herself smiling fondly as she recalled the prince’s sprawling mansion, which was reminiscent of antebellum plantations of the South. And then there was the infinity pool, encircled by swaying palm trees and imported, powder-fine sand.
“It’s just pure beauty.” And it was one of the things she loved most about working there.
Grant smiled. “I’m glad everything seems to be going well.”
About to smile back, she noticed something flicker in his gaze and asked worriedly, “What is it?”
With a reluctant sigh, Grant said, “I know I’m being paranoid, but I still can’t help worrying about you. There’s no smoke without fire, luv. You know that. So the rumors about the prince can’t be all lies.”
Touched by his concern, Fawn forced herself to overcome her shyness and inhibitions so she could reach for his hand. Squeezing it, she said, “Everything’s really going great—-”
“I know that. I just feel it’s better if you worked at our company—-”
Her smile faded. “You know how I feel about that.” All her life, she had felt indebted to the Bennetts. At least just this once, she wanted to be able to see if she could stand on her own.
When Fawn tried pulling her hand away, Grant tightened his hold on her instead. “I’m sorry,” he murmured under his breath. “I’m being overpossessive, and I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Grant.” Her heart melted at his admission, and Fawn could only shake her head, unable to believe that someone like Grant could feel so possessive about someone like her.
“Tell me you love me.”
“I do.”
“Say the words,” he teased.
“Grant!”
“Please?” He gave her a sweet, seductive look under his lashes.
She whispered shyly, “I love you.”
After, he drove her to her dorm and when he walked her to the door, he asked quietly, “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
She thought about how strangely she felt when she saw the prince and the girl making love. “N-nothing.”
And it was nothing, she told herself fiercely as she closed her eyes and accepted Grant’s sweet kiss.
“GOOD AFTERNOON, FAWN,” Noah called out from the watchtower when he spied Fawn walking past the gates, which automatically slid closed behind her.
Fawn waved back at the prince’s head of security. “Afternoon, Noah.” It had been exactly one month since she had started working here, and now the sight of men holding AKs and Steyr Augs no longer fazed her.
The driveway leading to the main house took about ten minutes by car. On foot, it took forever, especially for someone like Fawn, who hated working out.
By the time she made it to the main house, she was gasping and panting. Thankfully, she was used to this, too, which was why these days she had a water canister inside her bag. Taking it out, she flipped the lid open—-
“Aah.” Water had never tasted this good.
“Good afternoon, Fawn.”
Fawn froze.
Hand-sewn loafers. Stylish jeans. Dressy shirt.
Her gaze moved up.
Yup, it was him.
But even so, shock still had her spewing the water out, and she could only gaze in horrified fascination as every of drop of it landed on the prince’s crisply ironed shirt.
Holy crap.
Springing to life, she shoved her water canister back in her bag and hurried to the prince, mumbling, “S-sorry.” As she desperately tried patting his chest dry, she also tried not to think about how, well, hard he felt.
Because Grant’s hard, too, she reminded herself.
“It’s fine.” As the prince spoke, his large, strong hands reached out to capture hers.
Oh.
His touch burned her, and Fawn heard herself garble something out in answer.
Prince. Hands. Hers.
Clinging to the few brain cells she had left, Fawn managed to pull her hands away.
The prince allowed himself a smile at the half-confused, half-terrified look on her face.
Good.
“I should have expected this,” he told her as he pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the remaining drops that clung to the silky fabric of his shirt.
His words stung, and she couldn’t help saying defensively, “You know I didn’t mean it. It’s j-just that I didn’t expect you to be here. I mean, everyone said you’d be away for another week—-”
“I apologize,” the prince said in a dry voice, “if I failed to inform you in advance about the change in my schedule.”
“It’s okay.” Then she realized what she had said. “I mean, it’s not okay.”
“Oh? Why is that? Do you miss me when I’m gone?”
Fawn gaped at him.
Pretending not to notice, he turned to walk back into the mansion. “Follow me to the study, please.”
Struggling to pick her jaw from the floor, Fawn forced her limbs to move. What was that five seconds ago? Had the prince actually cracked a joke – and it had to be that kind of joke?
As they headed down the hallway, the prince asked abruptly, “How do you find your work so far?”
She answered right away, “Perfect.”
“And your fiancé? No complaints about your irregular work schedule?” Most girls would have suspected him of having interest in them if they were asked that question, but because this was Fawn—-
“None at all, prince. T-thank you for the concern.”
Dense, the prince thought. This girl was just unbelievably dense. And even more unbelievable was that he actually had some kind of—-
His lip curled in self-disgust.
Interest.
He found her interesting. That was the most he could stomach.
He said finally, “How nice of him.”
“He’s very understanding,” Fawn shared shyly.
“How nice for you, parthena mou.” And now, he was ready to puke the moment she started expounding on her fiancé’s saintly qualities.
He was cursing her again, she thought glumly, which was weird for more than one reason. Listening to the other maids’ gossip had revealed to Fawn that the prince was half-Sicilian, half-Greek, but was raised in England. And yet he spoke Filipino.