Page 79 of The Thing About My Prince
The tiny bit of light creeping over the top of the curtains is enough to define Lexi’s sleeping features and pick out the caramel tones in her dark hair that I can spot even from where I’m standing at the foot of the bed.
Last night was the greatest night of my life.
I’ve run that sentence through my head several times and tried to work out whether it’s an overstatement. It isn’t.
The only imperfection was, as always, me—when I came in my pants. Well, in her hand in my pants. That was a bit fucking embarrassing. But hopefully she saw it as the compliment it was, that it took only the slightest touch from her to make me shoot my load.
I woke up twice in the night with a raging stiffy and was tempted to wake her, but that didn’t seem fair. The first time, I rolled over and concentrated on going back to sleep. The second time I was so hard the discomfort was too much, and I had to go to the bathroom to knock one out.
I walk slowly toward Lexi and ease myself down to sit on the edge of the bed.
The shift of the mattress rouses her, and she rolls onto her back with a sleepy sigh.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” I whisper, stroking the soft skin of her bare shoulder.
Her eyes open slowly, like the lids are so heavy it’s a struggle to lift them. But when she does, her gaze holds mine and the corners of her mouth curve slowly into the sexiest smile on the planet.
She pulls a hand from under the covers and runs her fingers down the side of my face. “You’re dressed. Have you been up long?”
I lean down and brush my lips over her forehead. She smells like American sweet iced tea mixed with sex sweat and a tiny bit of me.
“A little while. And you need to get dressed too.” I drag my hand down over the covers to the curve of her hip. “Because we’re going out.”
“Out?” She rests a hand on my thigh and, oh my God, it might as well be right on my dick for the effect it’s having. “I didn’t think there were any events or wedding things on the schedule for today. Thought we were going to finally have time to get in some solid work.”
“Later.” I pick up her hand from my leg, lest it render our entire schedule for the day as being naked in bed, and kiss the back of it. “First, we need to go out. Get ready, like jeans and sneakers ready, and meet me in the kitchen.”
“The kitchen?”
“Yup. My parents will never bump into us there.”
She chuckles. “Okay. But we really do have to work.”
“And we shall.” Getting myself and my raging hard-on off this bed and moving toward the door is possibly the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life. “Just meet me downstairs as quickly as you can.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Lexi asks as I climb into the boot of the car.
“You’re smuggling me out of—ow!” I rub my knee where I banged it on the latch. “Out of here.”
“In the trunk of this car?”
“Yes. It’s Flora’s. She’s lent it to us for the day.”
I curl up on my side, careful not to kick the box of food and drink by my feet. Despite the blanket I’d put down first, it’s even less comfortable in here than I’d anticipated.
“This is ridiculous. You might die from the fumes. Can’t you lie on the back seat instead?”
“There are two photographers outside the gate. So no.”
“You could hide under the blanket.”
“They snap pictures no matter who’s coming or going, so they’d notice a person shape under a blanket when they look at them afterward, and you’d be the evil murdering girlfriend off to bury a body in the woods.”
“I’ve never driven on the other side of the road before.” A flash of worry furrows her brow.
“When you’re sitting on the other side of the car, it will make sense. That’s how it feels to me in the US, anyway. Now, shut me in, and when you get out of the gates, turn left. Half a mile down there’s a little clearing off to the left behind some trees. Stop there, and I’ll get out and hop into the back seat. Once we’re clear of the reporters, it’ll be safe for me to hide there then.”
She rests her hand on the lid of the boot. “I feel terrible. Shutting you in here feels wrong.”
