Broken Prince: A Novel (The Royals Book 2) (23 page)

I
take
Ella out to the beach. One thing I’ve always loved about our place is how close it is to the ocean. The beach isn’t big—not much more than a fifty-foot stretch that’s about ten feet wide before the tide swallows up the sand on one side, while the rocky outgrowth on the other forms a natural wall from the back lawn to the shore.

But it’s still ours—quiet, peaceful, and most importantly, private.

I lay down a heavy wool blanket, toss a down comforter on top, and drop the rest of my supplies. “Have a seat while I light us a fire.”

She shucks her shoes at the edge of the blanket before sitting down. I catch a glimpse of dark-painted toes before they disappear underneath her legs.

There’s always a pile of driftwood against the rocks, and in no time at all I have a small fire going, enough to provide us with a little illumination and heat. Don’t want my girl to get cold.

“Watching you make a fire is weirdly sexy,” she comments as I sort through the dry wood for the best pieces.

I twist around to grin at her. “Handy dudes are like porn for chicks. You like that I can do things.”

“If I was a cavewoman, I’d definitely drag you back to my lair,” she agrees.

“Is that how it worked back then? The men would create fire and then the women would come along and bonk the guy with the best twig from the pile and have her way with him?”

“Yup, but we let the men write the stories because their fragile egos needed the boost.”

I throw one more log into the fire to keep us toasty, then join her on the blanket. She smooths the comforter over my legs as I stretch out beside her. For a while, we watch the fire dance and listen to the crackling of the tinder as it breaks under the heat. There’s a simple pleasure in our closeness. The ocean is vast, the sky is endless, and Ella and I are together. Finally.

Her feet rest beside my jean-clad thighs. My arm is wrapped around her back and my hand is cupping her sweet ass. I wish she was wearing her uniform so I could slide my hand underneath until I find nothing but bare skin and heat and softness.

“Thank you for getting me my job back,” she says finally.

“What makes you think I did?”

She gives me a wry look. “Who else would it have been?”

I grin sheepishly.

“I mean it, Reed. Thank you.”

I pull my exploring hand back and tuck it behind my head. If she wants to talk, we’ll talk. I mean, my dick is going to choke to death in my jeans, but it’d be worth it if it means she’ll stick around.

“Least I could do. It’s my fault you lost it in the first place.”

“Not really, but I appreciate the thought.” Her hand rubs briskly down my thigh.

I close my eyes. The touch is meant to be encouraging, I’m sure, but just a few more inches to the left and I’ll have a little relief. I take a couple of deep, silent breaths.

“The stuff at school isn’t as bad as before. Did you help with that, too?” she asks. Her hand has moved upward and she’s now trailing a finger down the side seam of my long-sleeve shirt.

Is she purposely trying to drive me crazy? I swivel my head to look at her, but she’s staring out at the water.

I roll back and focus my attention on finding the Big Dipper and not on how I’d like her fingers to pull up my shirt and trace a path along my abs. “Not enough,” I admit. “I talked to Wade and some of the other guys. Told them I wanted to hear if anything was going on, but we both know it’s Jordan behind this shit. If it was a guy, I’d take him out to the parking lot and pummel his face until he was shitting his teeth.”

“That’s a lovely image.”

I snort. “Would you rather I take him to the mall and get friendship bracelets made?”

“I don’t know. Does violence solve anything? Like, you hit Daniel, and I helped humiliate him, but he won’t go away. He doesn’t even appear…shamed.” Her wandering finger has drifted lower to trace the hem of my shirt.

“It’s an act,” I tell her. “He’s good at pretending it’s all right, but he got kicked off the lacrosse squad and his run for next year’s student body president is over.” I frown. “It’s still not enough.”

“It’s a start, though.” Ella reaches out to stroke my arm, and that innocent touch lights a fire under my skin that’s hotter than the one in the sand five feet away. “Speaking of Jordan, your dad threatened her dad at the game tonight.”

“He did?” I can’t hide my surprise.

She nods. “He said something like he’d hate for anything bad to happen to me and have it affect their business relationship.”

“Good for the old man. I didn’t realize he had it in him. Or that he even knew what goes on at Astor.”

“I think he knows more than he lets on. He hinted that he knew about you and me, too.”

I grin. “What about you and me?”

“That maybe wearing your jersey means something.”

I use her hair as an excuse to touch her, tucking a few wayward strands behind her ear. “I know what it means to me. Wanna share what it means to you?”

She grabs my wrist and turns her lips into my palm. It feels like a brand. Her brand. I want to close my fist around it and keep it there.

“It means that all those other girls need to stand down. You’re mine.” She lifts her shining eyes to meet mine. “Your turn.”

Again, I have to take a breath. This time it’s because my heart’s in my throat. “It means all those other guys need to step off. You’re mine.” I give up being patient and drag her onto my lap. “I want to solve all your problems for you. I want to make Jordan go away. I want to erase Brooke from our lives. I want everything perfect and shiny and beautiful for you.”

“Since when are you such a romantic?” she teases.

“Since I met you.” Oh man. If any of my friends were around right now, they’d start a statewide search for my balls. But I don’t care. I mean every word I’m saying.

Ella cradles my head between her hands. “Well, I don’t need any of that from you,” she whispers, her lips inches away from mine.

“I’ll do anything. Tell me what you need.”

“You. Just you. It’s always been you.”

She kisses me. Her lips press softly against mine, sealing the promise she’s made to me. That she’s mine and always has been. From before we even met, she was mine and I was hers. I fought it too long, but I’m giving in now. I’m all in now.

I kiss her back, driving her down to the blanket so that I can feel the full length of her body against mine. It’s innocent at first. I don’t rip her jersey off or stick my hand down her pants, even though I’m dying to do both. We just kiss each other, until she starts to move restlessly underneath me.

Her legs part and I settle between them, pressing my hard-on against her welcoming softness. Her hands leave my head and fumble with the bottom of my shirt. I reach one hand behind me and whip it off.

“You’re not going to get cold?” she asks, half teasing, half serious.

“I don’t think I’d be cold if it started to snow.” I grab her hand and press it to my chest. “I’m burning up.”

Her fingers curl against my chest, exploring carefully. I know she doesn’t have much experience, but I’ve never been this hot before, never been so close to the edge. Not even my first time. I could pluck her hand away and put an end to this with the excuse that my control is whisper thin, but I want her to touch me.

I brace myself over her, using my elbows for support, and let her explore. Her fingers count every rib. Her hands measure my chest and I take caveman-like pleasure in how big I am compared to her. Her palms smooth over my shoulders and spread along my back. I tremble over her, a wild animal ready to spring free, just waiting for her signal.

Fuck. This girl is wrecking me.

She uses my body as a lever and pulls upward to flick her tongue against the frantic pulse at my neck.

It’s too much. I roll over and drop onto my back, my chest heaving as if I’d run a marathon.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, snuggling down beside me.

I thread her fingers through mine. “Talk to me. Help me settle down.”

“You sure you don’t want me to help you some other way?”

That makes me smile. “Later. Right now, I want to lie here and enjoy being next to you.”

“Is it always like this?”

“Like what?”

She goes quiet for a moment and then, “Like my heart is about to burst.”

“You make it sound like I’m killing you.”

“It feels like that sometimes. Sometimes…the way you make me feel scares me.”

My fingers tighten on her hand. “It’s the same for me, and no, it’s never been like this before.”

“Not even with Abby?” I can tell she regrets the question—that it slipped out before she could stop it.

I tilt my head to the side so I can look at her face. “Not even with Abby. Do you really want to talk about her?”

“Kind of.” She makes a face. “But we don’t have to.”

I tug her closer so there’s not a sliver of space between us. I don’t like talking about Abby with her. Not because I have feelings for Abby but because I didn’t have strong enough feelings for her and it makes me feel guilty.

“I started seeing Abby after my mom died,” I admit. “I never had a steady girlfriend before that. Just the occasional hookup. I wasn’t like East, but I fooled around here and there, lost my virginity to a senior when I was fifteen. After Mom died, I was kind of…crazy in my head. Lots of bad shit went on upstairs…” I pause and then say ruefully, “Still is, I guess, but Abby came along and she reminded me of my mom. I thought being around her would be like my mom was back.”

“Did that work?”

“For a while, but then...I didn’t miss Mom as much. I mean, I still missed her, but Abby wasn’t ever gonna be someone who kept my interest. She’s too quiet. Too…passive, I guess.” I was bored shitless around her, but that sounds rude and I don’t want Ella to start thinking I’m an asshole again. “I broke up with her around Christmas. You realize that there’s no good time in the fall to break up with someone? It’s nuts. Gid always said you can’t break up with a girl before Winter Formal and not right before any holidays. But I did it anyway, because delaying it wasn’t good for either of us. She wasn’t happy. She kept coming around even after I ended it, and the more she came after me, the more I regretted dating her in the first place.”

Ella rubs her cheek against my shoulder. “Why do you sound so guilty right now?”

“Because I feel guilty,” I grumble.

“Well, you shouldn’t. You’re not responsible for her. As long as you were upfront with her, didn’t make promises you didn’t intend to keep, her hurt feelings are something she has to deal with.”

“You’re the only girl I’ve made promises to,” I say gruffly.

“Make me a promise right now.”

“Anything.”

“Promise you’ll always be straight with me. That if you ever regret being with me, you tell me.”

I roll her over and pin her hands next to her head. “I can promise you this—I’m never gonna regret even a second that you and I spend together.”

I kiss her again to silence any disagreement. That’s not the promise she asked for, but it’s the only one I can give, because I’m never going to be tired of her.

I break away, pressing kisses along her jaw, down the smooth column of her neck. She has no idea how beautiful she is, how the sight of her golden hair and fiery blue eyes and slender body makes every guy at school pop a boner when she walks down the hall. She has no idea, because she’s not like the other girls at Astor. She’s not vain or selfish or conceited.

She’s just…Ella.

“You wearing my jersey tonight was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” I rasp in her ear before biting on the lobe.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

Her fingers dance hungrier and needier on my skin. I wedge my thigh between her legs and she grinds against me.

“I wanna take care of you.” I rock against her. “Let me.”

“Out here? Right now?” She’s scandalized, but intrigued.

“No one is around for miles.”

I push the jersey and the tank she has on underneath up until her creamy skin is completely exposed. I lick a slow circle around her tight nipple, and she arches upward, not satisfied with my teasing.

Chuckling, I take her into my mouth. When I flick the tip with my tongue, she gasps. Her hands tangle in my hair and urge me closer. As if I need the encouragement. The tides could rise, a hurricane could form, but I’m not letting go.

I slide down under the comforter and tug her jeans down. “You’re beautiful, baby. Perfect.”

Then I have other things to do with my mouth than spit out words that don’t do her justice anyway. Beside me, her heels dig into the sand. Her fingers clutch my shoulders as I kiss and tease her sweet spot until she’s crazed and I can’t think straight. My dick is so hard it hurts, but I don’t even care. When I’m with Ella, it’s always her. I get so fucking hot when she’s on the edge.

She shakes and shudders and my name passes through her lips on repeat. I crawl up her body and hold her tight until her racing heart slows. I use the time to tell my own body to settle down. It’s one big ache, but shoving my own need aside is easy to do when my girl is blissed out in my arms.

“It’s getting cold out here. Want to go inside?” she asks sleepily.

Not really. I’d like to stay here with her until the next millennium. Reluctantly, I pull away. “Sure.”

I help her fasten and zip, kissing her a thousand times. Then I bundle up our blankets, throw the mess over my shoulder, and grab her hand.

“Reed.”

“Yeah?”

“I miss you at night.”

My chest warms. Before she left, I slept in her bed nearly every night. I couldn’t get enough of her.

I squeeze her hand way too tight before replying. “I miss you, too.”

“Will you sleep with me again?”

“Yeah.”

It’s a single word, but it’s the answer I’d give to anything she asked of me.