Prince Albert Read online

  "This can't leave this room, Gaige," she says, her voice panicked. "Promise me."

  I turn toward her, swallowing my irritation. "Trust me, sweetheart, I have no interest in anyone else finding out about this."

  For a second, I think the expression that flits across her face is hurt or disappointment, but it's gone so quickly I can't be sure. "Exactly," she says quickly.

  "So we'll agree. It will just be one night."

  "Right."

  "Then it won't hurt to do it again, will it?" I ask. "I mean, one night, right? It's best to get everything out of your system."

  She rolls over onto her side, facing me, her head resting on her hand. "One night and that's it. After tonight, we stop."

  I nod. "Absolutely."

  Like hell we're going to stop. I only just started with this girl.

  "And it stays between us."

  "I'm not taking an ad out in the newspaper," I say, running my hand up her thigh.

  Delaney wrinkles her nose. "Do people even do newspaper ads anymore?"

  "I don't care," I say, sliding my hand up farther. "Are we going to talk about newspapers, or are we going to make love?"

  Delaney slaps me on the arm. "Ugh. Stop using that phrase."

  I reach up to her mouth, run my thumb along her bottom lip. "Ask me nicely."

  She raises her eyebrows. "I don't ask for anything nicely."

  "If I recall correctly, you were begging pretty well earlier," I say. "Now you're changing your tune?"

  She smiles before wrapping her lips around the tip of my finger, and all I can picture is her lips wrapped around my cock. "Too much talking," she says. "One night, remember?"

  In the morning, Delaney murmurs in her sleep, incoherent nonsense words but I listen anyway. She's lying with her head on my chest, her hair splayed out all over, finally asleep after one more round of sex followed by an outrageous amount of talking about random meaningless things. It's like the sex loosened her tongue, made her punch drunk or something. It made us both that way, I guess.

  Delaney was giggling, laughing at stupid shit I said while we laid in bed, kind of like she used to when we would hang out at night. Except this time, we were naked. And I wasn't trying to get in her pants anymore, because I already had.

  I'd always figured that if I ever tapped Delaney Marlowe, that would be the end of it, just like the way it worked with every other chick I'd ever met. The chase is everything – it's the aftermath that I can't fucking stand.

  But with Delaney, I don't want to leave. So I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of her, filing it away in my memory bank. Just in case she's serious about this being a one night stand.

  She finally stirs, rolling over onto her stomach to look at me, her expression satiated, at least until she registers it's me. Then it changes to a look of panic. "You're still here," she whispers.

  "Good morning to you too, sweetheart."

  "What time is it?"

  I glance over at the alarm clock on the table. "Eight."

  "Eight?" she asks, sitting bolt upright. "Shit. I have to jump in the shower. Chelsea will have my ass if I walk into work late. Didn't my alarm go off?"

  "Yeah, but you looked so comfortable, I didn't want to wake you."

  "Damn it, Gaige." She slides out of bed and runs in the bathroom to turn on the shower before she comes back out. "How the hell are you going to sneak out of here?"

  "I thought I'd lounge around in your bed naked until the housekeeper came in to clean, and then I'd tell her the whole story of what happened between us last night."

  Delaney's eyes go wide. "I swear to God, Gaige, if you don't get out of here…"

  "Relax, sweetheart," I say, not bothering to hide the edge to my voice. This isn't how I fucking pictured this morning going at all. "I think you need to postpone that shower. A little morning sex would significantly improve your mood." I toss back the covers and gesture toward my cock.

  "One night, Gaige," she says. "That's it, remember?"

  "Did we say one night or one day?" I ask. "Because if it was one day, then technically we still have until tonight. Twenty-four hours."

  Delaney sighs. Why do I love the sound she makes when she's exasperated with me? I shouldn't love it as much as I do, but getting under her skin is thrilling. It's like foreplay. "One night, Gaige. One night and that's it. How are you going to sneak out of here?"

  I slide out of bed, crossing the room to where she stands, naked. Usually women, at least the kind of women I hook up with, look worse for wear in the morning. But not Delaney. She looks better than she did last night, standing here with her hair tousled, a smudge of mascara under her eyes, a fresh flush on her cheeks.

  Don't even get me started on that fucking body of hers.

  I run my palm over her waist and the side of her curvy hips, before moving it between her legs. "Instead of me sneaking out of here, why don't you let me lick you again?"

  Delaney inhales so sharply that it's audible in the room, even over the white noise of the shower. "I have to shower."

  "It can wait."

  She pries her hand away from where it rests between her legs. "Our parents will be awake."

  "Your father will be at work already, and Anja's probably sleeping it off somewhere," I say.

  "I'll be late."

  I shrug. "Chelsea can wait," I say. I can't stop looking at her lips. They're still pink-tinged around the edges, swollen from my kisses, and I kiss her again, lightly, but she turns her head away, touching her fingers to her lips.

  "I have morning breath," she says.

  I tilt her head up to me. "I don't care."

  "Gaige, don't," she whispers. "Please."

  She turns and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. And shutting me out. Just like that.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  DELANEY

  Damn it, damn it, damn it.

  I let the shower water run over me, half-hoping that Gaige will yank open the shower door and step inside, pushing me up against the wall the way he did last night. I can still feel his hands on my skin, the smell of him lingering in the air. When I wash him off me, I'm a little sad.

  But I put thoughts of him aside. I hooked up with Gaige O'Neal once. I can't hook up with him again. Even if every part of my body is screaming at me to go back into the bedroom and tell Gaige that I want him.

  I know better than to do something like that, for all kinds of reasons, like the fact that Gaige is my step-brother. If my mother found out, she'd lose her shit. Anja would be horrified. And my father would be unimaginably disappointed. Or the fact that Gaige is not a relationship kind of guy. Besides, I really don't know if I can even stand him outside of the bedroom.

  In the bedroom, though…fireworks. I'm not terribly experienced – I slept with a grand total of two people in my life, before Gaige. Both people had been boyfriends, people I thought I cared about. So the sex should have been amazing, right? It's supposed to be amazing when it's with someone you love.

  Except last night with Gaige – someone I can barely tolerate, let alone love – was so much better than anything I've ever imagined.

  Of course, I have to put it out of my mind. I'm sure Gaige already has. I'm certain this is nothing to him.

  When I step out of the bathroom, my towel wrapped around me, Gaige is gone, and for a second, I think about walking next door and telling him that I've reconsidered, that I'd rather call in sick and spend the morning in bed with him.

  But I don't.

  Instead, I go to work and try to put the entire thing out of my mind.

  * * *

  It turns out that it's really fucking hard to forget what happened when your stupid stepbrother refuses to stop reminding you.

  "Do you have the schedule ironed out for the fourteenth?" Chelsea stands in front of me, her hands on her hips, scowling. "Did you make contact with the rep?"

  She's asking about the schedule for one of the dates for the Japan trip, and I answer her, "Of c