A Player for A Princess

Zelda sighs. “She’s never been a redneck hick with bruised knees. She was born a lady.”

“I think you idealize her.” I kiss the top of her shoulder.

“Oh, she was a pickpocket, mind you,” she laughs. “But that was my influence. Ava would have done better. The only thing stopping her was me.”

Lifting my head, I hold her eyes. “The only thing stopping you now is you. You might have passed her to Rowan, but you’re not alone.”

Her eyes divert, and for a moment the only sound is the noise of the ceiling fan and in the distance, the sound of the waves breaking along the shore. When she turns back to me, she places her hands on my cheeks and leans up to kiss me.

I roll her onto her back deepening the kiss. Her mouth opens with a little noise, and our tongues curl together. Lifting my head, I pull that full top lip I love between my teeth lightly before sliding down her body, kissing a line down to her breasts. I smile as I feel her body respond. Her hands slide into my hair as I pull that sundress all the way off her.

She’s wearing only a lacy white thong. “You never threw this on the roof,” I say, hooking my thumbs under the sides and pulling it down her luscious legs.

“I guess you’re too distracting.” Her shoulder rises with her sigh, and I smile. She’s so beautiful.

“Come here.” Moving to my knees at the side of the bed, I hook my arms around her thighs and jerk that bare pussy to my mouth.

She lets out a little squeal as I slide my tongue over the little bud hidden there.

“Oh, god, Cal,” she gasps, touching my cheek. “I’m so close.”

“Hmm,” I kiss the crease of her thigh and her stomach quivers. I slide my palm flat over her, circling my thumb around her navel.

Her knees bend, and she holds her hands to me, “Come up here.”

One last pass over her clit, and her back arches. “Cal! Come to me.” Her fingers flex, and I laugh, kissing her stomach before diving into her arms.

A little fumbling, a little rotating of our hips, and I rock deep into her. Our mouths fuse together, and her arms are tight around my shoulders. I’m pretty close to the edge myself. I feel when she breaks, and I pull up, driving deeper. Her mouth is on my neck, and when I feel her teeth, I shoot over it.

“Fuck,” I groan as I finish. My forehead drops to her shoulder, and her legs are tight around my waist. Her lips are right at my ear.

“So good,” she whispers, and my arms flex around her.

Moving my palms to the sides of her face, I look into her eyes. They’re hazy and tired, and I catch her around the waist, dragging us up to the pillows before I pull her back to my chest, circling her in my arms.

“Sleep, beautiful,” I say, and it isn’t long before I hear her breathing smooth out as she falls asleep in my arms.

For a little while, I listen to the sound of the waves breaking far below us as I think about what this means and the idea of a perfect life. I’ve given up trying to understand how my life changed when this woman entered it. Now I’m determined to bring it all the way home.

* * *

The sun wakes me, streaming through the open French doors, and I blink a few times at the white wooden ceiling, the dual fans moving ocean breezes around the airy room. The sound of soft laughter brings me completely around. I sit up and see Zelda’s on her side watching a movie on the large, flatscreen television.

Sliding in behind her, I wrap an arm around her bare waist and kiss that place where her neck and shoulder meet. It gets me a little squeal.

“Tickles!” she says, turning to kiss my lips briefly before returning to whatever is holding her attention.

“What is this?” I say, leaning on my hand.

“I don’t want to hear it, MacCallum.”

I watch a moment as Matthew Perry grabs a young Salma Hayak and kisses her deeply (as if). “Oh, now you’re going to get it. You gave me shit for You’ve Got Mail, and you’re watching Fools Rush In?”

“This movie is a million times better than You’ve Got Mail,” she says in that sassy voice, and I can’t resist.

Pulling her shoulder toward me, I pin her against the mattress. “I’d love to hear your justification for that incredible statement.”

“For starters, what self-respecting man…” (love how she emphasizes the word) “…watches You’ve Got Mail?”