A Bodyguard For The Princess (A Bad Boy Romance) (36 page)

BOOK: A Bodyguard For The Princess (A Bad Boy Romance)
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I sighed. “Well, if you want to pay someone to do it, so be it. I could have done it for nearly free—besides the parts, of course,” I challenged.

“Since when has money ever been an issue for us, son?” my dad joked, his head up proudly. He puffed his chest out. Emma took his arm and grazed it seductively.

I didn’t want to see that, so I turned my head and so did Amy because her eyes met mine. We shared a small, mutual smile—our first moment of genuinely chill interaction. She must have hated parental PDA as much as I did.

I cut into my french toast before jamming most of it into my mouth. The taste of the cinnamon, syrup, and butter was incredible.

“Someone’s hungry,” Emma said, giggling.

“I’m a growing boy. I gotta get my first five meals in before I hit the bar later.”

“He’s been so excited to go to the bar since he turned twenty-one a month ago,” my dad said to Amy.

I felt embarrassed and cleared my throat. “I drank long before that, though. Most of the bartenders around here don’t give a damn,” I informed Amy.

Amy giggled and took a bite of bacon. “Oh yeah? I guess people in New York aren’t so uptight after all.”

I got up, pushing my chair in. “I’m going to go work on my other car.”

“Always working on something,” said Dad. “His favorite thing to do.”

I left the room, a bit annoyed. My dad always had to try to bring me down a level, but in front of Amy, it was unacceptable. I wanted to look like the cool badass I was, and someone being too young to go into a bar wasn’t the type of image I wanted to paint.

“Why do I care, anyway?” I mumbled to myself.

I opened the door to the garage. My old blue car sat, shining and comforting, in the dark. It was my first car—the last piece I had of my old life with my mother. I thought back, imagining her standing in front of it.

“Do you like it, Scoots?” she’d asked. ‘Scoots’ was my nickname, short for Scooter. I’d had a scooter when I was a kid I had been obsessed with.

“Hell yeah, I do,” sixteen-year-old me said, my spiky hair and UFO pants contrasting with each other.

“Wanna take it out for a test drive?” Mom had asked.

That day was one of the best memories I had of her. She later moved to Vermont to be closer to her family, and last time I heard, she’d met a new guy. We still spoke on the phone, but I was mad at her for leaving. My parents never told me why they split up, but I think it had something to do with my father’s work schedule. Emma was always working, which was probably why Dad and she were a better match. I’d never met two people who liked to work more than they did.

“Hello, old friend,” I greeted my car, running my hand over it. “Time to get you running again.”

 

Amy

 

I was glad to escape the overwhelming mushiness of my mother and soon-to-be stepfather, but I was especially relieved to be away from Ashton. I found it hard to relax around him—he was just too sexy and infuriating. I slipped up the stairs to my new room and took a better look at it.

In the corner of the room was a white vanity with plenty of places to put my brushes and makeup. In the center was my bed—it looked king-size—with a white comforter and big, puffy pillows. There was a small, white desk with a bulletin board above it. I had a big walk-in closet, and the white carpet was almost covered with a light purple rug. Ashton did a good job painting the room. There were no inconsistencies in the color at all.

The bathroom loomed in the corner, threatening. I took a step in, noting the normalcy. There were two sinks, one his, I assumed. It was covered in razors, hair, and man-hygiene products. I wrinkled my nose. At least my side was clean.

There was a door at the other end of the bathroom, and I was so damn curious. I peeked in carefully to see his room, dark as evening set in. He had a single light on. His room was mostly red with a bong in the center of it—Lord knows for what. He had a strobe light in the back, posters of naked women and cars all over his walls, and his bed was giant and unkempt. I laughed to myself—he was such a typical dude.

I took another step in and saw lots of photographs on his desk. There was a woman there, smiling with light blonde hair. She stood with Gary and Ashton, so I assumed it was his mother. I felt a pang of sadness for him. This must not be easy for him, either. I closed the door to his room, feeling guilty for snooping. I returned to my room and began unpacking when my phone rang.

“Hey girl, what’s going on?” I greeted Sarah, pressing the phone to my ear.

“I just got home. We unpacked, and my dad is getting dinner ready,” she replied.

“I just ate. There’s so much I have to tell you,” I said.

“Tell me more about the guy,” she urged.

“Okay…Well, he’s tall, and he’s a jerk,” I began.

She laughed, the sound partially muffled by the phone and her breathing. “What else?”

“We share a bathroom,” I said.

“What? No way!” She gasped.

“Seriously, I don’t know what to do. It’s so awkward.” I groaned theatrically.

“Well”—she giggled—“make sure you’re shaved and prepared at all times.”

“Ugh. I mean, I feel ready to lose my virginity and all, but he’s my stepbrother-to-be,” I contested.

“I know, I know. I’m just teasing. That is weird, though. I feel for you.”

“Amy?” I heard my mother say from outside the door.

“I gotta go,” I told Sarah.

“Okay, talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yes, definitely. Love ya.”

“Love ya, too!”

“Come in, Mom,” I called, sitting on my bed.

My mom entered the room, looking around with a smile. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?”

I smiled. “Yeah. It’s great.”

She sat next to me and patted my arm affectionately. “Thank you for being so mature about this. I know it was hard for you when your dad and I split up,” she said gently.

I breathed deeply and looked down, trying not to get too emotional at the mention of his name. “I’m glad you’re happy, and Gary is a pretty cool guy so far,” I said, trying to reassure her.

She gave me a hug, and I hugged her back tightly. “Good. I just wanted to say goodnight. I’m gonna get changed and get ready for bed,” she said.

“All right, goodnight then.”

She stood up and walked to my door. “Goodnight.” She closed it behind her.

I felt so strange and alone now that she was gone. I stretched out on my soft, comfortable bed. When I opened my eyes again, it was totally dark outside. I must have fallen asleep. I really had to pee. I got up groggily and went to the bathroom. Before I could fully discern my surroundings, I felt the steam of the shower hit me in the face. A naked, toned body came into view. I stopped in my tracks, shocked and embarrassed, too mesmerized by the image of him to escape. He was sculpted and cut—not the gym kind of lean, the kind of lean from hard labor. He had more tattoos on his chest and back.

He turned around to face me, and his giant cock was semi-erect between his legs. It looked huge, like a porn star’s. I’d watched porn, but this was the first time I had ever seen a naked man in person and up close.

He didn’t look shocked. Instead, he looked at me, his piercing eyes never leaving mine. He grinned at me mischievously and ran his hand through his long brown hair. I ran to my room and locked the bathroom door behind me. I covered myself in my blankets like I was hiding from some kind of a monster.

Eventually, I heard him get out of the shower and go into his room. I didn’t care how badly I had to pee—I was not leaving this bed until I could escape the reality of what had just happened.

This is why you don’t share a bathroom,
I thought to myself, aggravated.

Still, I thought of his hard body. Between my legs, I was moist and filled with desire. I reached gently for my clit and began rubbing it, moaning softly into my pillow. I imagined him on top of me, his mouth all over mine and his cock pressing between my legs. I imagined what I thought sex would feel like, thinking it felt the same as when I rubbed my clit like this.

My breathing became heavier as I felt my orgasm trickle down my pussy. I pressed harder on my clit, panting softly, no longer caring if he could hear me or not. In fact, the thought aroused me. I came, hard, all over my hand.

I got up, wobbly-kneed, and made my way downstairs to a half-bathroom I’d seen when I first came into the house. I peed, grateful for the relief. Then I went back upstairs and locked my door. I buried myself in the blankets again, and I didn’t make a sound until morning, even though I couldn’t sleep.

 

Ashton

 

I was done with my car for the night and covered in grease. The house was silent—everyone was asleep. When I first entered my room, I noticed the door to the bathroom was closed. I’d left it opened. I grinned to myself. Someone was a little sneak. Perhaps she wasn’t so innocent after all.

I loved a shower after four hours of hard work. My muscles were aching, and the hot water felt so good. She had put some stuff on her side of the bathroom. My side was so messy. I felt embarrassed again. Embarrassment was such an odd emotion for me, because I seldom felt it. Most of the time I didn’t give much of a shit what people thought. But her? I guess that was a different story.

I turned the shower on, and the room filled with steam. I rubbed my favorite soap all over my body and watched the tub fill with brown grease and oil from my job well done. I shampooed my hair, letting the water wash the soap off me.

I heard the door open and a few small footsteps. The curtain to the shower was mostly open, revealing me almost completely. Amy stood, wide-eyed, like a deer in headlights. I saw her eyes trace from the top of my body all the way to the bottom. For a brief moment, they rested on my cock, which was becoming hard just because she’d walked in on me.

She was sexy without trying to be. Her hair was slightly messed up from sleep, and her lips were pink. A soft blush tinged her cheeks, and she turned around sharply, practically running out of the bathroom. I heard the door lock behind her.

I wasn’t embarrassed now, just horny as hell. Imagining what I could do to her made me harder, my cock fully erect. I grasped my cock with my hand and used soap as lubricant. I wrapped my hand around it and began jerking myself off furiously, using one hand to steady myself as the water spilled over me.

I envisioned grabbing her hard and pulling her into the shower with me. I would push her gently against the wall of the shower, ripping her sopping wet clothes off. Our kiss would be deep, hard, and wet from spit and the shower. I imagined entering her sweet pussy, watching her eyes grow large as I filled her. I’d pound the shit out of her until I came all over her pretty, toned stomach. Seeing this in my head sent me over the edge, and I grunted a few times, pumping hot cum down the drain.

I turned the shower off and wrapped a towel around me, but I didn’t lock the door to my room. A part of me wanted her to come in—wanted her to sleep with me, maybe cuddle?

Cuddling? Since when do you do that, Ash? Get yourself together.

I laid down in my bed and heard her come up the stairs. I smirked. She must have used the bathroom downstairs in an effort to avoid me. I mean, could I really blame her? Most people weren’t cool when someone walked in on them naked. I wondered if she was clueless to the fact that I wanted her. She seemed innocent enough, so she probably was.

 

Amy

 

“Get packed! We’re going to the beach,” my mom exclaimed.

I was already dressed. I didn’t want Ashton to see me disheveled. “We’re going to the beach?”

“Surprise!” Mom exclaimed, giving me a hug. “I told Gary it was your favorite place, and he conveniently enough has a beach house in the Hamptons! Isn’t that great?”

Gary carried his luggage down the stairs, followed by Ashton, who winked at me as he walked by. I scowled and turned from my mother, who was suddenly concerned.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. Just grumpy before my coffee. You know that,” I lied.

“Get packed. We’ll get some on the way,” Mom said in her soothing voice.

I couldn’t believe it! I had just unpacked, saw Ashton’s package, and now I had to go on a beach trip with him? Still, I couldn’t help but feel excitement. I would be on a vacation with my sexy stepbrother-to-be. We had better not be sharing a bathroom there.

I bounded up the stairs, briefly admiring my room again, and threw some clothes into my suitcase. Luckily, I had picked up a sexy bathing suit before I left. It was pink and lacy, barely covering my breasts and ass. I had intended to impress someone else with it, not my future stepbrother.

This is crazy. No need to be so nervous, Amy. Just go and have fun.

I put on sunglasses, looking for any excuse not to make eye contact with Ashton. I was still really flustered from the night before. Luckily, he was already in the car. I would be sitting with my mom, which I was grateful for. She scooted next to me in the seat.

“Make sure to put your seatbelt on,” she said.

“Yeah, make sure. We wouldn’t want you to projectile out of the car,” Ashton joked.

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