With a Prince: Missed Connections #2 by Jeffe Kennedy

Author:Jeffe Kennedy [Kennedy, Jeffe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: BrightLynx Publishing
Published: 2017-05-29T16:00:00+00:00

~ 8 ~

He took his time looking around, thumbs hooked in his front pockets and, even with his promise, I braced for the cutting remark. One of Ice’s one-night stands had caught a glimpse of my room and pronounced it “a vomitorium of princess pink and monument to all that was wrong with the female psyche” and as if “Disney had fucked Freud and produced an insane daughter.” Ice, of course, had thrown him out immediately and did penalty dishes for a week, saying she’d clearly screwed up with scoring that asshole.

But those kinds of things, they stay with you.

I could have redecorated—seriously considered it—but that incident made me dig in my heels. Besides, my friends were all used to it and it wasn’t like anyone new ever saw my room. Not until Damien. He looked so foreign, a masculine slash of lean black, like a blade cutting through all the lace. I sat on the edge of the bed and let him look even as he absently unlaced his big boots and toed them off, setting them by the door, black socks stuck inside. His bare feet were long and pale against my floral rug.

“That’s Neuschwanstein castle,” he said, pointing to my framed poster. “I’ve been there.”

“You have?” Little could have surprised me more.

He gave me a distracted, crooked smile over his shoulder, standing in front of it, hands on hips. “Yeah—my dad. Always with the educational holidays. This place, though…” He tapped the glass. “Gorgeous.”

I nearly blurted out about my girlish fantasy of living there someday, but fortunately he’d already moved on to examining my shelf of glass and porcelain fairies. “I collect them,” I offered, though that was obvious.

“They’re cool. Can I?” He nodded at one.

Since he seemed to be biding his time now, I stood up to join him, realizing as I stood that I’d been clutching Ulysses Unicorn in my lap. Sexy, Marcia. I deliberately set him aside. I would have stuffed him under the pillow, but no hiding him now. “Sure. Just pick them up from the bottom.” I showed him. “The wings break easy, you know.”

He held up the delicate fairy, an absent smile on his mouth as he turned her. “Reminds me of you. I see why you like them.”

“Of me?” Nothing about me was slim, delicate, or fairylike. “I don’t see how…”

He set the fairy back carefully in exactly the same position, then slid his hands around my waist. “No, you don’t see, do you? I’ll have to show you.” He kissed me on each cheekbone. “You’re blushing.”

I couldn’t meet his eyes, instead staring at his black-clad chest, holding onto his hips as if I was still clinging to the back of the bike, hoping not to fly off. He kept kissing me, feathery brushes on my cheeks, brows, eyelids, like a gentle rain of affection. I turned up my face, sighing dreamily, unfurling from that tight bud of nerves, offering my mouth, which he kissed also.

His fingers were at my blouse buttons, so I shrugged out of my suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor.

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