Playing Dirty (A Bad Boy Sports Romance) (27 page)

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” she said.

“That’s fair enough.”

“And you know I used the vacuum cleaner first thing in the morning as my petty little revenge for New York.”

“Well, I don’t forgive you for that, either.”

“What you did was worse.”

“I had a hangover!”

Keira paused, examining my face. “This is bad. I’m starting to think that you might not be such a terrible person, and you clearly are.”

“Would it help if I did something despicable?”

“It might.”

I pulled her to me and kissed her, hard and full on the mouth, and she melted into my arms, returning the kiss with equal passion. I felt her hands on my head, sliding down to caress my body, and I returned the favor, marveling at the smoothness of her skin as my palm stroked across it. I found myself lost in another world, a world of Keira; her taste, her scent, the feel of her body, firm against mine. I was so lost in this world that I was barely aware of normal sight and sound.

“Did you say something?” I asked a second later, vaguely aware that she had spoken but too preoccupied with her sweet lips to have understood the content.

Keira pulled back from our kiss for long enough to look directly at me, her eyes heated, her breathing rapid.

“I said…lock the door.”

Chapter 9

Keira

This was insane.

Totally and utterly insane. Andrew was a member of the royal family, and as an employee of the family, I had no right to be touching him, and vice versa. It was wrong; oh-so wrong, and yet it felt undeniably right. I’d just seen the real Andrew again, the very same guy I’d met that night in New York; the one who made me feel like I’d known him for a million years, and the one who knew exactly what to say to make my insides coil with fiery lust.

And I had to have him right now.

I watched him lock the door, my heart racing at the thought of what might happen next, and then he returned to the couch, pulling me into his lap and cradling me against his strong chest. As my pulse began to steady itself, his right hand rubbed my back gently, reassuringly, and then he moved up to my neck, rubbing and caressing me there. He cupped his fingers underneath my chin, tilting my face up so that I was looking into the depths of his crystal-blue eyes. They were burning with desire, and then he lowered his mouth to mine again. I closed my eyes, savoring his warm, sensual lips on my mouth. They moved slowly, caressingly over me, his big hands now framing my face on each side. His tongue softly slid over my lips, parting them gently, and my heart quickened again as my own tongue entwined with his only seconds later.

My whole body seemed to turn to jelly, and I ran my hands over his still-clothed chest, wanting to feel every inch of him. I finally slid a hand under his shirt, and as I caressed the hard muscle that lay underneath, he broke away from the kiss and looked at me. “Keira,” he breathed, his mouth still only inches from mine. “Do you know how much I've wanted to do that?”

“Tell me how much,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Not sure it’s even possible to put into words. I’ll show you instead,” he said, rolling me over onto my back and positioning himself above me on the sofa. He clasped my hands, our fingers interlocking above my head, and goose bumps rapidly peppered my arms and chest as he lowered his mouth to my lips again. His kiss was gentle yet hungry and mine matched his with intensity. I couldn’t get enough of him. I eased upward into his warm flesh, wanting to feel his full weight and his hardness.

Suddenly, he pulled back and tore my clothes away. They’d already been half off me, seeing as he’d accidentally walked in on me changing earlier, so it only took a second, and then he quickly unhooked my bra and threw it onto the floor, his mouth immediately finding my perky nipples as he leaned down. After a moment, he moved back again and pulled off his own shirt. I gaped at his muscular chest, wanting to stare at it forever, but he was quickly back on me, kissing my body, his warm skin pressed against my own. I could barely stop myself from moaning out loud already, because every touch sent my body into deep spasms of pleasure. I’d been imagining what it would be like to be with him, and it was better than I could possibly have guessed.

My hands quickly began to tear at his pants, and soon we were both completely naked, our body heat keeping us warm in the chilly air of the staff room. In fact, Andrew was so damn hot and radiated so much sexual energy that he was close to being a full-on fire risk. The days of want and tension were suddenly spilling out between us, and the thickness of our lust was incredibly powerful. He moved down, kissing my stomach and hips as he went, tracing a line from my bellybutton to my mound, and as he did so, his fingers slid in between my legs, gently plying my folds and parting them so his tongue could easily trace my clit. His strokes became more insistent, and heady pressure was already building up in my core; building up to an explosive need for release.

I could hear my breathing getting faster and shallower, but Andrew continued working my pussy with his mouth and tongue, and the shaking and shuddering of my body heightened. Soft moans slipped from my mouth, and he continued with the magic of his mouth. Finally, I couldn’t hold on anymore, and I began to fall apart, panting and groaning in pleasure. My climax shook my body until I thought I would shatter into a million pieces, and my hands fisted in Andrew’s thick hair. My hips were hungrily grinding into his mouth and tongue, letting him know just how much I needed him and just how much I needed
more.

A lot more.

“You taste so good," he growled from between my legs. “God, you really taste so fucking good.”

My body gave one final shudder, and then it felt as if my legs had turned to jelly all over again. Andrew moved back up on the sofa, and I moaned and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him tightly against me. He gazed at me, and I knew he wanted the same thing I wanted.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he added, studying my face intently. “Are you really ready?”

Oh, yeah
. I was so ready for him it ached. I nodded again, and he leaned over and retrieved a foil packet from his pants, which had been cast aside on the ground earlier. He made quick work of rolling the protection down his rock-hard length, and then he leaned over me and pressed his lips against mine, kissing me hard. I melted against him all over again. I was powerless, totally and utterly powerless, not because of who he was, but because I’d wanted him since the first time I’d seen him back in New York, no matter how many weeks I’d spent denying that to myself and trying to tell myself that he was an arrogant sleaze who was all wrong for me. None of that mattered now. It didn’t matter that we’d had a rough start, and it didn’t matter that we came from such different places in society.

All that mattered was the fact that we were here now.

The fact that he was the future king of England completely disappeared from my mind as he pulled me against his hard body. His taste and smell flooded my senses, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, moving my lips down from his mouth and over his neck and throat instead. His stiff cock pressed against my belly, and one of his hands made its way back down to my pussy, working my clit just like his mouth had only moments earlier.

“You’re so wet,” he said, lips right on my earlobe as one finger slowly slid inside me. “You want this so fucking badly, don’t you?”

A dirty-talking prince…just what a girl needs, right?

I groaned and nodded, unable to even give him a coherent answer, because it was just so friggin’ hot, and heated desire lanced through my body as a second finger slid inside my slippery entrance.

“Oh god, Andrew,” I moaned, desperately wanting something else inside me instead.

He knew exactly what I needed, and he smirked. “Tell me you’re mine first.”

“I’m…I’m yours,” I gasped out.

“That’s right. This perfect body is all mine. All fucking mine,” he growled, pulling his fingers away from me and pressing his cock against my soaked entrance.

My heart hammered. The tension was almost too much to bear. I felt his hands grip my hips as he pressed his cock inside me, almost agonizingly slowly. I gasped as he filled me completely, and I loved it, loved that every inch of him fit so perfectly in every inch of me. He began to move his hips slowly, his cock sliding in and out of my tightness, carefully but firmly.

A moment later, he withdrew from me for a second, but not all the way, just enough to tease me and make me beg for more. With the tip of him still resting inside me, he reached between my legs to rub my clit again and then thrust back into me, making me cry out at the overwhelming sensation of fullness. Holy god, it felt so good. I relaxed, my body ready to accommodate all of him again, and he eased in further, one hand squeezing my nipples as he moved against me, creating a sensual overload. My hands pressed against his shoulders, holding myself steady as I moaned and whimpered.

“Oh, God…Andrew…”

He groped my breasts as we moved in a rhythm, tweaking my stiff nipples, and groans escaped his mouth as my inner muscles tightened around him. The fact that he wanted and needed this just as much as me only made the entire experience that much more intense, and I loved the way he paid such close attention to my body, hands roaming over every inch of me. No other man had ever paid this much attention to my body; the previous guys I’d dated had been polite and respectful all the way into the bedroom, where sex was a quiet, polite activity done only in the dark and punctuated by only the occasional orgasm.

But this…this was a whole other world for me.

I wanted to please him just as much as he was pleasing me, and I made an effort to squeeze him as tight as I could, just to see him groan again. “Shit…keep doing that and I’m gonna come already,” he said, gripping me hard as I worked him with my muscles.

His hands suddenly moved down, lifting me up, and I realized he wanted to change positions. I happily turned over and got on my hands and knees—no small feat for a curvy girl on a slightly wonky couch—and I felt his hand come down on my ass cheeks in a gentle smack as I arched my back.

“Oh!” I said, pleasurable heat radiating from where he’d lightly spanked me. It was as if he already knew everything about my body; as if he could see into my mind and know exactly what would bring me the most pleasure.

Then he was inside me again, thrusting deeply, and I gasped as I quickly reached my tipping point again, knowing I was about to explode.

“That’s right…come on my cock,” Andrew grunted, knowing how close I was, and his words were enough to send me over the edge.

I gripped the top of the sofa as an orgasm unlike anything I’d ever felt before began to overtake me, and my whole body convulsed and tensed as it flooded my body. White-hot light seemed to explode in front of my eyes as it tore through me like a whirlwind, and all my senses seemed to fail. All I could register was the intense feeling of pleasure wracking every inch of me.

As I came, Andrew pulled out and then slammed back into me, hard and deep. My body stretched around him again and then squeezed him as another wave of pleasure descended over me. Harder and harder, faster and faster…he was fucking me senseless, and I had no idea how much time had passed before I approached another climax with a gasp. He flexed his hips in one last thrust, one more delicious push that sent me falling over the edge. Thrown onto a wave of pure ecstasy, I was so enraptured that I barely heard his low groan as he came, his cock pulsing within me, each throb so strong that I could feel every inch of him inside me despite how soaking wet I was.

He disposed of the condom and quickly cleaned himself up, and I collapsed onto the sofa a moment later, my body coated in a sheen of sweat. Andrew grinned as he sat down next to me, watching me struggle to regain my bearings.

“That was fucking amazing,” he said, still panting slightly.

I smiled at him. “You’re not so bad yourself. Out of all the royalty I’ve been with, you’re definitely in the top five.”

He grinned. “Funny. I guess there’s some truth to those rumors that we’re sleeping together, huh?”

“There is now, yeah.”

I was too dizzy with post-coital bliss to worry about how bad it was that we’d just done that. I’d made such a big deal about how awful it was that people might think we were sleeping together, and then I’d practically fallen right into bed with him. Well, not exactly a bed, but the point was still the same. I’d done something unbelievably bad…but god, there was no way anyone could convince me it wasn’t the best thing in the world right now.

I knew the creeping sensation of guilt would return soon enough, though. I’d always been a good girl, responsible and independent. I didn’t sleep with bad boy princes—or my boss, for that matter—but here I was, practically drooling at the idea of letting him screw me again, if and when that happened for us. I was completely and utterly powerless to stop the thoughts, because Andrew had me.

He really had me.

As arrogant and presumptuous as he could be sometimes, he had an undeniable hold on me…and I couldn’t wait for more.

Chapter 10

Keira

The phrase ‘rollercoaster day’ gets thrown about all too much these days; people apply it to quite ordinary days in which they happened to find a coin in the street but also chipped a nail—wow, what a roller-coaster. But I felt pretty comfortable in applying the phrase to the day I’d just experienced. It’d had its lows (being shouted at by Michael) and its relative highs (seeing the paintings in the Long Gallery), but boy had it finished on a
real
high.

If I’d had time to think beforehand then I might have wondered what to expect of Andrew, but in the heat of the moment there hadn’t been time—it had simply happened.

Twice.

The first, an experience of animal intensity that had permanently scorched every nerve in my body with white hot trails of pleasure then blown the top of my head off. The second time had lasted longer; it had been slower and gentler and yet, in its own way, it had been even more intense, the pleasure concentrated to a fine edge, the slow build making the final, ecstatic release all the more overwhelming. For a moment I’d thought I might cry, and I shared that deeply personal moment with Andrew, staring into his eyes and knowing that he was feeling the same. Sex, at least in my experience, had never been more deeply personal and intimate. Between the two times, when we’d been trying to get our breath back and recover our strength after that first athletic session, we’d lain close, feeling each other’s nakedness against our own, holding hands and smiling about what we’d just done. A moment of peace and pure, shining happiness. In its own way, that period had been as intimate as the act itself.

We finally parted with a kiss. Andrew headed for the stairs and I floated to the bus stop, which took me home, bathed in a cloud of rainbows and stars. As soon as I was safely back in my apartment—one of the apartments which were given to royal staff at a decent rental rate—I got out my laptop and tried to Skype with Sarah. The events of the evening were of course, a complete secret and not to be told to anyone for fear of press intrusion, but I knew I could trust Sarah. Besides, I
had
to tell someone!

“You what?” Sarah goggled disbelievingly from my laptop five minutes later. I’d filled her in on what happened, but I’d used a code word for Andrew on the very slim chance that some crazy hacker was listening in on my chat sessions. She’d immediately known who and what I was talking about, and I daresay I’d never seen her look more surprised.

I could only grin like a Cheshire cat. “I know.”

“When you fumbled that ball in New York it never occurred to me that you’d be able to pick it up again.”

“I know.”

“This is incredible!” Sarah seemed to be more excited than me.

“Obviously,” I finally remembered to say, “you can’t tell anyone about this.”

Sarah nodded. “Good point.” She turned around. “Get out.”

“What?” a male voice asked from off-camera.

“I’ve got to talk to my friend.”

I tried not to stare as a half-naked man wandered across the background of the onscreen image. “Hope I didn’t call at a bad time.”

Sarah shook her head. “I don’t think he had another in him anyway. Now, back on you, I want to know every… actually, no, broad strokes first. In one word; describe it.”

So many words went through my head, it’d been the sort of evening that made me grasp for superlatives, but when asked for one word there was only one that would do. “Beautiful.”

Sarah shrugged. “I think you may be talking about a different ‘it’ to me. Although not necessarily. But we can circle back to that. I mean, I know you didn’t have a tape measure on you, but a general description will do.”

“I’ve missed you,” I said, grinning.

“Not tonight, I bet.”

“Maybe not…”

“Now,” Sarah picked up her laptop and moved it so she could relax in a comfortable chair. “One second.” She hopped up and returned with a large glass of wine. “Right, now, tell me everything. And I mean
everything
. I want the full blow by blow, so to speak. Omit no detail, however filthy. In fact, focus on the filthy.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Spoilsport.”

I shrugged. “I just don’t want to make you jealous.”

Sarah leaned eagerly forward. “He was that good, was he?”

I grinned. “Better.”

Through wheedling and teasing and prying and cajoling, Sarah managed to extract a few more details about the experience out of me, who after tussling between ladylike discretion and a desire to brag about how amazing my night had been, settled for a happy middle-ground between the two.

“So now you’re the prince’s plaything,” Sarah said when she’d got all the specifics she was going to get out of me. “Bit of a cliché though, eh? The prince and the maid.”

“It’s not like that,” I insisted, although a persistent voice at the back of my mind wondered…could it be like that?

Sarah sighed, and for the first time seemed serious. “Look, Keira, I can tell you’re excited and I don’t blame you, and I don’t want to be a wet blanket but…maybe take it easy? You met the guy and he lied to you to get you into bed. You met him again and he acted in a way that couldn’t be called romantic. Then you met him again, had one nice—albeit brief—conversation, and you had sex in a changing room. You take those events in isolation and this does not sound like the sort of man you’re looking for. It sounds like the sort of man
I’m
looking for. Trust me, I’ve been with my share of guys like that.”

“I guess.”

“Trust me, I’m not saying this to put a downer on your night. My point is: okay, maybe he’s changed, maybe he’s not the guy we know from all the papers and magazines and dodgy photos on Twitter. But nothing you’ve described to me completely convinces me of that.”

“If you’d just heard what he said…” I began.

“Guys will say anything to get laid,” Sarah said bluntly with a deal of authority. “I’m not saying he’s definitely using you. For all I know he’s completely on the same level and this is just the perfect little love story. I’m just saying, that doesn’t happen very often, so tread carefully and don’t get your hopes up.”

It was good advice, and it came from a good place, and I had to admit that in the darkest recesses of my mind, I’d been wondering the same sort of thing ever since I’d started to make my way home. And not just that.

“I don’t know what to do next,” I admitted. “I mean…I’m having an affair with the boss. That’s just not me, it’s more…”

“Me?” Sarah suggested.

“I didn’t say that!”

She snickered. “Its fine, I said it. It’s true. And you and I are very different people who look for different things from the guys we hook up with. You’re playing in a different league now. In fact, I think you’re playing a different sport, and one with very different rules. And as a veteran of this particular sport, I gotta tell you…people play dirty.”

I smiled. It was so easy talking to Sarah; nothing was off-limits, I could say anything in complete security and confidence and knew that the advice I would get back would be honest and well-meaning, if not always good.

“There’s the whole royal thing as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not really…” I struggled for the word. “Appropriate.”

“Appropriate?” Sarah pulled a face. “What are you now, the Queen of England?”

“She’s actually quite nice if you catch her on the right day.”

“I’m sure that over there in merry old England there’s all sorts of things that aren’t ‘appropriate’,” Sarah continued with the authority of one who had never left US soil. “Cold beer, sandwiches with the crusts left on, forgetting to tug your forelock when the lord of the manor comes past.”

“I haven’t travelled back in time,” I said with a grin. “Does all your information on England come from watching repeats of Downton Abbey?”

“Pretty much,” Sarah admitted. “But my point remains, who gives a rat’s ass what’s ‘appropriate’? You’re a woman, he’s a man, and the rest is all bullshit.”

“I’m working for his family,” I said. “Office romances are doomed at the best of times, and when you add in the fact that the tabloid press would have a field day if they found out, then…I really don’t want my face on the front page of The Sport.”

“The what?”

“It’s a newspaper over here.”

“Dumb name.”

“Maybe, but that’s not the point. I can just see this going so badly.”

Sarah shook her head. “You see, you’re condemned out of your own words: office
romance
. And you’re right, office romances never work. But a casual fumble in the stationery cupboard during lunch break is absolutely fine. You’re already looking at this as a
romance
and I say again—be careful. He just doesn’t seem to me like that kind of guy. He’s been trying to get you into bed since he met you and you think that now he’s succeeded, he’s all of a sudden looking for something long term and heartfelt? I don’t want to smash your dreams, Keira, I really don’t, but I’m not seeing it.”

I nodded glumly. “You’re right. I won’t let it happen again.”

Sarah nearly choked on her red wine. “What, are you high?! I never said that! I said be
careful
. Be hopeful that its love, but be aware that it might just be sex. And be grateful that if it
is
just sex, at least it’s good sex. Don’t break up with the best you’ve ever had! I didn’t suggest that even remotely.”

“I don’t want it to be just sex. I like him. Despite everything, I like him.”

Sarah leaned forward. “Be honest with yourself. If you found out that for him, this was about nothing but sex…would you want to stop having it?”

I opened my mouth to reply. Of course I would stop, I wasn’t interested in meaningless sex, especially with someone for whom I might have real feelings. That could only end badly for both of us. But the words to express that just didn’t come as my mind took me back to the events of earlier that evening.

Could I really give up that kind of mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex under any circumstances?

Maybe not…

“That’s what I thought,” Sarah said smugly, catching the look on my face. “If you want my advice, hope for the best, expect the worst, and in the meantime, lie back and enjoy the ride.”

And, although it was starkly contrary to everything I’d ever believed about myself, I thought that in this particular situation and with this particular man, that was pretty good advice. Of course, it was also probably a really stupid thing to do, opening me up to getting my heart broken and my face on the front of every tabloid newspaper in Britain, but after a lifetime of alternating the decision-making process between my head and my heart, I thought it might be a good idea to let my libido have a turn in charge.

It was about time, right?