Victoria’s Secret Wish(42)

She let go of him and went inside the closet, probably in search of a gown to sleep in. Tonight she had a better chance than average of keeping it on.

He turned off the TV and looked down at David. Sleeping like a baby. Not the soul of a baby, though. More like old before his time. He’d wake up feeling old, for certain, the way his neck hitched at the back of the couch.

“David. Hey.”

Nothing.

He raised his voice a little. “Hallo. David.” Should he touch him? Might startle him, but hell. The guy had had his mouth pretty damn close to his cock earlier, and his hands had been between his thighs and Vic’s chest. The guy’s cock had been in his wife, for the love of God. Touching shouldn’t be a problem. But where? “David?” Just the arm would be fine. A smooth, warm arm. He gave it a little shake.

“Mmm?” Blue eyes opened and blinked up at him.

“Hey. We’ve gone to bed. Feel free to sleep…wherever. You’ll likely get a crick in your neck like that.”

David nodded, patted his hand, turned over, and went back to sleep.

So. There’d be a bit more room in the bed tonight, at least. Sunny side to every cloud.

* * * *

He woke to an empty bed, with a vague recollection of Vic kissing his forehead as she rustled away. She hadn’t gone far, as he could hear her voice, and David’s as well.

A quick trip to the loo, a turn with his toothbrush, and he wandered out to the main room. Oh, they were outside. Probably breakfasting–the clock said half past nine. The sun was blazing down, and Vic had taken cover on a seat under the enormous table umbrella. Wearing a thick white robe, she had her feet on the chair nearest her, with a shirtless David seated at the next. Breakfast was in full swing. Hmm. Perhaps it had been the door shutting behind the servers that had woken him.

“So why do you think he wanted you guys to hang with him all night?” David asked, while cutting something on his plate–ham? Good Lord, he was hungry, but he’d like to watch them together for a bit.

Vic shrugged and swallowed a bite. “He’s probably used to his entourage, and since they’re not here…I don’t know. Maybe he’s just not good at entertaining himself? So he expected us to keep him company. He probably never considered the possibility we wouldn’t.”

“So, is he, like, a prick? You know, spoiled?”

“A little. He wasn’t demanding about his accommodations–”

“Well, you said he got the other executive suite.” David laughed. “How much could he complain?”

“Yeah. It’s not quite as, uh, luxurious as this one. Britt made sure of that.” And he had. She glanced over at the pool and shrugged. “But anyway. No, it was more like he didn’t want to do anything on his own. God knows if he’ll actually go through with any fantasy sex. But either way, Britt and I are officially sick today. So he won’t get our help.”

“Don’t look too sick, the way you’re tearing into that French toast,” David teased.

“Bite me.” Vic turned red, and shrugged her shoulder toward her ear.

David paused eating long enough to rub his fingers over his forehead. Of course the guy felt bad, though not knowing Vic well enough, he’d have no way of understanding it’d probably revved her motor because she’d made him lose control enough to bite that hard.

“It can’t be an easy life for him,” David said, in a lower voice. “The prince. His family has houses everywhere, but he travels from one to another with that entourage, and none of them is really home. Besides that, everywhere he goes, he gets mobbed by the crowd, and yet…no matter how many people he meets, he never really knows them.”

Vic lifted her head and stopped chewing, gazing at him. Uh-oh. David was about to be analyzed. “A little like you, maybe?”

He shook his head. “That wasn’t what–”

She leaned forward. “Where is your home?”

“I’ve still got the apartment with Daniel in Oklahoma, that we leased when we went to college. There’s a studio in San Antonio, where I train. And a room at Mom and Dad’s house in Boise.”

Vic did her active listening trick and waited.

David finally shook his head. “Probably the apartment with Daniel comes closest. I’d rather go hang with him during my off time than go home. The ’rents still have it in for me, for quitting school.”

“They didn’t want you to swim?”

He threw his hands up. “Oh yeah. They always wanted me to swim. But they wanted me to stay in school, too. There was just no way I could do both–not if I wanted a shot at the Olympics. They were less than pleased when I chose swimming.”