The Princess and the Player (Royally Pitched 1)

He tilted his head, studying her. “How did you know I was on the Ferris wheel?”

Blushing, she said, “I might have looked at your photos on social media.”

“How did you do that?”

“Robert’s phone.”

His brow furrowed. “Do you not have a phone?”

“I do.”

“I need your number then.”

Ele looked away from him. “I’ll have to ask Robert.”

“About giving me the number?”

“Yes, and, well, what the actual number is.”

Confused, he tried to figure it out. “So, you have a phone, but you don’t know the number. And you could have given it to me, but you need to ask Robert.”

“Smartphones are easy to hack. Basically, every three to four weeks, I get a new disposable phone. The numbers I need are already programmed into the phone. But still, I hardly use it.” She paused, and he could see her discomfort. “You know I need things to be a certain way. Because of that, I hardly have use for the phone. Millie and Robert handle things.”

“So, any privacy you want or need—”

“Is already scheduled.”

“Any privacy we are going to want or need …”

“I haven’t gotten that far. You were … unexpected.”

He was at a loss. “I wanted to talk to you today. I wanted to see you. I had no way to make that happen.”

“You could have called Robert.”

“You had to sneak out.”

“I asked him, but he refused. He left me little choice.”

Tristan wandered over to the desk. He scribbled his number on a piece of stationery and handed it to her. “Memorize it.”

She looked up at him. “Okay.”

He leaned in, placing his hands on either side of her. “I don’t like not having a way to get in touch with you. Talk it over with Robert and let me know how he wants to handle it.”

She nodded. Then, her arms were around his neck, and she was falling back onto the bed, taking him with her. He dropped into the cradle of her thighs and propped himself up, giving her space. He moved his leg, spreading hers wider, rocking against her. Their sighs of satisfaction mingled together, a perfect melody. He dipped his head and ran his lips up her neck until he reached her mouth. Then, he dived in.

All of the desperation of the day, the frazzled thoughts, the stifled apologies, the inability to talk to her poured into the kiss. She opened to accommodate him, absorbing his forcefulness and meeting his demands. Heating quickly, Tristan’s hands followed. He was like an octopus, everywhere all at once. Up her hoodie, down her tights—mapping, memorizing, capturing. In record time, his finge

rs were inside of her, circling, flicking, opening her up to him. Like the night before, everything moved with speed, like if he didn’t take what he wanted, what he needed, the opportunity would be lost. He bartered with time and circumstance. In mere minutes, he had her gasping through her orgasm.

He was content with just this—her in his arms, trying to catch her breath, looking completely blissed out. He had no intention of going any further. His hands continued to caress her, but his mind was on the problems and complications of carrying on an affair with her.

When the knock sounded on his door seconds later, he realized he’d been waiting for Robert to come. Unsurprised and unmoved by the interruption, he kissed her swift and light.

Ele, however, startled. “Do you think that’s Rowan?”

“No, E. I think it’s Robert.”