The Dirty Series 1(86)
This is one part of royal life that I could definitely get used to.
For the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon, I am pampered shamelessly. The suite’s bathroom itself was a damn work of art—gleaming marble surfaces, a shower with three different faucets, and tilework that belongs in an art show—and after I emerged from the shower, scrubbed clean, my skin lightly scented by the hotel’s fragrant soap—a combination of vanilla and orchid that’s absolutely divine—I received the most sensual, relaxing massage of my life.
The beauty team went to work after that. I had my hair cut and styled. My makeup was applied so flawlessly I could hardly tell I was wearing any. They steered me through the decision process for choosing the perfect evening gown, shoes and accessories for an evening out. As busy as I was with all the fussing and attention, though, something was missing.
The one thing that nagged at me throughout the day was the silence. No calls from Alec. No texts from Alec. But he was all I could think about. My entire body throbbed with an aching need for him. After that mind-blowing kiss, it was unfair to leave me alone, fucking yearning for him. At several points throughout the day, I found myself rubbing my thighs together under my plush robe, trying to release some of the pent-up frustration centered between my legs.
“Is Alec—Prince Alexander—planning to visit me today?” I ask Claire in between my manicure and wardrobe selection.
“Oh, I’m sure he is,” she says with a sly grin. “I imagine he’ll be here as soon as his daily agenda allows.”
He can’t get here soon enough.
Just before seven, the team disperses, scattering into the hallway as if they’re all responding to an alarm that I can’t hear.
Claire is the last one to go. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” she says in an eager tone, just before she pulls the door closed behind her. “Have a wonderful evening, Ms. Reeves!”
I haven’t caught my breath from the day’s activity when there’s a double knock at the door.
I scramble anxiously to open it, even though I’m feeling slightly ridiculous wearing a silky red evening gown that’s cut low, showing off my cleavage to its best advantage, with a slit on the side of the skirt that allows my legs and satin shoes to peek out seductively. That is, I feel self-conscious until I see Alec standing there, dressed to the nines in a black tuxedo. When he sees me, his eyes light up with a lustful spark and he bites down on his lower lip.
“You,” he says softly, “are the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”
My heart beats heatedly in my chest and I smile at the sight of him. I lunge towards him, throwing my arms around his neck and pulling him into the room. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m kissing him passionately, no longer able to control the fire that’s been steadily smoldering in my system throughout the day for this man. When Alec comes up for air, he’s laughing. “No, no, you insatiable vixen. We can’t waste all these people’s hard work.”
“Yes, we can. We can do anything. You’re the prince, remember?” As I speak, I start planting kisses down the length of his neck, but I feel him tense as I get the last few words out.
Still, he smiles down at me tenderly, a hint of lust still shining through. “Won’t you let me take you out first? I think a proper date has been a long time coming.”
Chapter Sixteen
Alec
Jessica is stunning in the red gown, and when she locks her arms around my neck and presses her mouth against mine, it’s all I can do not to slam her down on the bed, strip off that sexy dress, and fuck her senseless for the rest of the evening, dinner plans be damned.
But I resist. I realized after leaving my father and brother yesterday that I have two pressing goals that need to be tended to immediately.
First, I need to show Jessica the very best of everything that Saintland has to offer. One could argue that I do that each time we’re in bed together, but there is more to our country than my glorious princehood.
Equally important is demonstrating to my asshole father and dickhead brother that Jessica is not some mail-order date or rent-by-the-hour companion. I am committed to exploring a long-term relationship with her. The last thing I’m going to do is either stay away from her or send her away.
That’s assuming I’m even capable of sending her anywhere that isn’t right by my side, the voice in my head observes.
When I came back to her hotel room last night, she didn’t answer when I knocked at the door. Claire reported to me earlier that Jessica only woke up when she’d been knocking for several minutes, so she must have been exhausted from traveling.