Page 22 of Royal Surrogate 1

I don’t owe you anything, I want to snap. But considering how close I just came to giving him everything…maybe I do owe him something. Not my entire life’s story or anything, but a basic explanation.

“I’ve had sex,” I tell him. “I just don’t really remember it.”

His brows snap together, his confusion immediately replaced by a darker emotion. “You were assaulted?”

“No,” I clarify quickly. “No, nothing like that. I was just dumb.” I realize I can’t really stop there, no matter how much I want to. “Most of my life, I told myself that I was going to save myself for the right person. I know that sounds horribly old fashioned, but I thought it was sort of romantic, only ever being with one guy. I dated over the years, and we would do…other stuff, but I always held off on sex.”

“And then you met someone who changed your mind?” There’s an edge to his voice, but I can’t put a name to the emotion behind it.

I shake my head. “I was dating this guy—Peter—who was great, but I think I knew deep down that he wasn’t the one. He respected my decision to wait, and I know he loved me—and I think I may have loved him, too, but maybe not, looking back. But he was still a guy, and I knew he wanted more. And there were lots of times I thought about taking that step with him. He was a good man.” I pause, collecting my breath for this next part. “And then the accident happened. My mom died, and my dad…well, you know. And I didn’t know what to do with myself. It felt like my entire world shattered in an afternoon. I didn’t even tell Peter at first—maybe that was another sign that he wasn’t the one, that I didn’t immediately go to him for comfort. But there was this student at the university who sold what she called ‘study aids’…mostly stuff to help you concentrate, or to de-stress during finals, that sort of thing. I’d never even considered touching the stuff before, but I bought some pills from her and took them.”

My neck is getting hot, the shame creeping through me, but I’ve said too much to stop now.

“I honestly don’t remember much after that,” I go on. “But apparently I went to Peter’s and we…” I let Caspar fill in that blank. “It wasn’t until late the next morning that I began to feel like myself again. And when Peter realized I didn’t remember anything from the previous night…he flipped out. He had no idea I was under the influence of anything, said I was acting a little mellow, but otherwise normal. He was like me—the poor guy hardly even drank, let alone took any drugs, and he couldn’t even look at me after what happened. I tried to explain about my parents, that I wasn’t coping well, but that only made things worse. He didn’t understand why I didn’t tell him before. He blamed himself for taking advantage of me, even though he had no idea what was going on, and…we broke up.” I look down at my hands, still feeling awful, all this time later. “Nothing I said made him feel any better, and I didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to fight to stay together. I told myself I was doing him a favor by bowing out of his life.”

I look up then, and for once Caspar’s face is unreadable, so I can’t tell if he’s sympathetic to or disgusted by my story. I spread my hands.

“And that’s it,” I tell him. “I’m not a virgin, but I don’t remember losing my virginity, so I’m not sure where that puts me as far as technicalities go. Since that incident I haven’t really given much time or attention to dating. I’ve been too busy focusing on my dad in my free time. Which brings us to now.” I straighten, trying to regain some sense of control over all this. “As fun as this was, our situation is already complicated enough. We shouldn’t add sex into the mix.” I stand. “And I really do need to shower.”

He still hasn’t said a word, but as I pass by him, he grabs my hand, stopping me.

My heart gives a little lurch, and I look back at him.

“Please,” I say, tugging on my fingers.

He releases me without a word, but the look in his eyes says it all. And as I hurry into the bathroom to escape him, I try to ignore the tingling in my skin.

CHAPTER 17

Caspar

I take my ukulele from the dresser before crawling and propping myself onto the bed. I begin to strum as my thoughts take over. There’s way too much to unpack—much more than I ever wanted to think about, at any rate. This was all supposed to be so simple. I’d find the right surrogate, marry her for show, impregnate her with my son, and have the child of my dreams.

Easy.

I suppose I hadn’t considered that the woman I’d choose as a surrogate might have emotions of her own. Stupid, I know, but I’d truly believed money would take care of whatever messy feelings might become involved—if any became involved at all.

The thought of saving oneself for marriage seems so antiquated. Of course, I wouldn’t mind if I found a woman who’d saved herself for me. There’s something exciting about the thought of it—knowing I would be the only man to ever give her pleasure, that I would be the only man to know her desires.

It isn’t something I’ve thought of before. But I suppose it’s a moot point now. Renae gave herself to some man under the influence of drugs. Some man she didn’t love.

The thought burns a hole in my gut, and I want to throw the instrument across the room. Why would she do that? I feel for the poor chap. He thought he’d been given a gift, something she could only give once. And then she had no memory of it? I can’t imagine how hurt I’d feel, especially if it was Renae who’d taken it from me.

Renae.

What is it that this woman is doing to me, anyway? I start to strum on the ukulele again. It must be that her story has intrigued me. Or that she’s denied me release.

I glance over at the shower door—that must be it. It’s been days, perhaps even a week since I’ve allowed myself a release. Even longer since I’ve been with a woman. And my cock is still aching with desire for the woman behind that door. I can still taste her, still feel her warm body beneath mine. I can still feel how much she wanted me, too.

I sigh as I continue to play the little tune I learned on my trip to Hawaii last year. I don’t want to risk her coming out of the shower to find me with my cock in my hand, though I wouldn’t mind if she wanted to finish the job for me. No, I’ll just have to wait until I have a moment alone to release this pent-up frustration.

As though she’s read my mind, Renae opens the bathroom door and meets my gaze immediately.

She stares at me for a long moment. “You said you were terrible.”

“I’m certain I said nothing of the sort,” I say, my cock coming to life again at the sight of her. I consider telling her exactly how amazing I know I am but think better of it. The last thing I want is to scare her away now.

“No, you said you were fairly terrible.” She nods. “I’d say that’s not terrible at all.”

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