Page 12 of Royally Drawn

“So, we’re good?”

“We’re still friends, yeah,” Ingrid said.

“I’d love to bemorethan that, but I’ll settle for not being sworn enemies.”

She might see Lars as a friend, which was fine, but I didn’t want that. Lars was stuck forever in limbo, and I was not.

Biting her lip, she ran her finger around the rim of the glass.

“You realise what that does to me, don’t you?” I asked.

Ingrid looked right at me and said, “No. What does it do?”

I chuckled nervously, deciding what to say. “Everything, really. You know what you are doing. Although, I still have doubts you’ve ever been kissed properly.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you could do it better?”

“I could, yes. I am certain of it.”

Ingrid sipped the drink slowly, then asked, “And if you’re wrong?”

“Then I’ll be mortified. However, I haven’t a doubt I could make you plenty happy.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You like it when I say naughty things, don’t you, Ingrid?”

She bit her lip again. She was craving so much more.

“Of course, I’d like to do much more than kiss you—much, much more.”

I almostdidkiss her when we were interrupted.

“You alright?” Betty asked, breaking up our gathering.

Thanks for the cockblock, sister!

Ingrid snapped out of it, clearing her throat. “Oh, me? I’m good. I was getting another drink. Or, rather, Keir was keen to teach me to make one.”

“I tried,” I said, never taking my eyes off Ingrid.

“Well, you’re being rude, Keir,” Betty said, rolling her eyes and grabbing Ingrid. “Keeping her from the party is bad form.”

Betty pulled Ingrid from me. She was gone for now but never completely out of my grasp.

A Simple Touch

INGRID

Isat next to Keir on one of the couches on the ship's main deck. Things slowed, calmed more by a fire in the fire pit before us. I was running ragged but couldn’t pull myself away from him. After multiple flirtations, I only wanted to throw myself at him. Still, I knew I’d see him a dozen more times this year. Worse, I was friends with his sister. It was a bad idea on many levels.

I gathered Keir was a playboy. If he had me, I’d be a notch in his bedpost. Was that how I saw myself losing my virginity? I didn’t think so. Then again, I thought about how he talked to me—the dirty things that spilt out of him—and I longed to have him say even more depraved things to me.

It did not help they packed us onto the couch like sardines, and his hand kept brushing the side of my thigh. I gathered it was no accident. Every time his hand brushed me, a shiver radiated from my core. I wanted to pull him inside and put his hand up my dress. I’d never felt that impulse before, but I needed it.

Who was this man? And why did I find him so irresistible?

“I’m headed to bed,” I said. “I’ll see you all in the morning.”

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