Page 31 of Princessa
Chapter 19
“She’s so fucking adorable. Just look at those bright blue eyes.” Lauren’s potty-mouthed enthusiasm radiated through my phone screen. “What’s her name?”
“Diamond.” Sitting on my bed, I sat the fluffy Persian kitten on my lap, stroking her white fur. “Because diamonds are a girl’s best friend.”
“I can’t believe Mr. Hot Prince bought you a sweet pussy.”
For reasons unknown, her comment made me laugh out loud. “Well, he did, and she’s everything I never knew I wanted.”
“Seems like that prince is everything you never knew you wanted.”
It didn’t make sense to try and deny how I felt about Grayson; Lauren often read me like a book. “He’s more than everything, which makes me equally scared and excited.”
“Oh, sweetie, you can’t be scared to fall for a guy, no matter what happened in the past. Besides, I seriously doubt Sexy Prince will do what Loser Ex did.” She paused, seemingly assessing my expression. “Are you gonna tell Grayson everything that happened between you and Parker?”
My gaze drifted downward to Diamond, who was all snuggled up in a furry ball atop my lap. “Yes, at dinner tonight.”
Unsure of how the evening with Grayson would progress, I asked Emma to watch Diamond for me. Besides alpacas, I didn’t think it was possible for her to love any other animal; yet at first sight, she fell head over heels for the adorable kitten.
Opting to have our meal in his suite instead of one of the restaurants on the resort, the fact we were alone made it all the more cozy and intimate. And though we’d only spent a few hours apart, Grayson and I blew through most of our dinner playing catch-up.
Kissing. Hand-holding. Snuggles.
After dinner, glasses of wine in tow, we made our way in from the lounge chairs on his en-suite balcony and onto the sofa in the living room.
Nestled snug, legs intertwined, we seriously sat there, gawking at each other’s lips, noses nudging. Our feet were bare and both of us had super casual clothes on—me with a ruffled short skirt and button-down blouse, he with pants and a V-neck satin tee that revealed the tattoo I still hadn’t licked. “How about we stop all this making out and share one or two things about each other very few people know?” Grayson’s suggestion set my raging hormones straight.
“Good idea.” I traced the tip of my finger along his wrist. “You go first.”
Grayson sipped some of the white wine, then set the half-filled glass on the table in front of the sofa. The subtle roll of his shoulders said he may not have been ready to share something very few knew. “This could come as a shock to you”—he cleared his throat—“but I’ve never had sex without a condom. So, when guys say sex feels a thousand times better without one, it’s pretty foreign to me.”
My mouth did fall wide open at that one. “Never?”
He shook his head. “Unfortunately, the women I’ve met would try anything to nail a prince for life. If I made the mistake of having a fling with someone who gave me a nasty gift-that-keeps-on-giving infection or ended up pregnant, well, you think my life is complicated now? Imagine the sort of scandal a baby out of wedlock would rouse.”
In similar ways, Grayson lived the life of a celebrity who needed to take whatever measures, make whatever sacrifices deemed necessary to protect what was at stake. For him, the throne, the rule of his country was at stake. Until I heard him say so, I didn’t think about shady women conniving to get pregnant on purpose in an effort to snatch a royal—become noble by way an offspring.
“I think it’s kinda cool you haven’t had sex condom-free. I mean, you can save the experience for someone you trust and love, the woman you plan to spend all eternity with.” Part of me wondered if there was a slight chance that woman could be me.
Squeezing my thigh, Grayson leaned in, placing a soft peck to my lower lip and muttered, “It’s your turn to share.”
Opening up about myself proved harder than expected at first; God knows I had plenty to tell him. I shared the first easy thing that popped to mind: “My belly button’s pierced.”
Grayson’s brows climbed, fell, then climbed again. “How the heck did I miss somethingthatsexy last night?”
“It was dark, your hands were…elsewhere.” Nothing could’ve been closer to the truth. During the moment in question, his hands had taken a shortcut underneath my shirt that led straight to my boobs. Kid you not, the feel of his thumbs circling my nipples had me panting like a lioness in heat.
Grayson’s eyes landed on my blouse, pinned on the area shielding my midsection. “May I see it now? Your piercing?”
Feeling playful, I replied, “I promise to let you see, only if you show me your tattoo, up close and personal.”
With a shrug, a very self-assured-looking Grayson tugged at the hem of the shirt that did very little to hide the tightly corded muscles underneath. Watching him pull it off was almost like being at a strip show where guys were all oiled up, horny women clawing at them. By the time he was chest-naked, I couldn’t help but stare. The artwork splayed across the left side of his profound upper body—a clock and blue rose mixed with enigmatic drawing skills, was divine—hewas divine.
“You’re salivating.”
“Am not,” I lied. “But who could blame me? It’s a gorgeous tattoo. So poignant, different. Does it mean anything special to you?”
“Yep. Self-discovery. I got it several years after I started FIP, the hedge fund business I told you about.”
