Kiss the Girl (Naughty Princess Club 3)

With one arm still securely around my waist, his hand comes up between us and he cups my cheek, holding my head in place while he devours me with his mouth. His kiss matches his personality. It’s bold and wild and the best thing I’ve ever felt. I moan softly into his mouth and grab a fistful of the hair on the back of his head while he plunges his tongue deeper. He kisses me with everything he has, and I never want the feeling to end. This feeling of being wanted and appreciated and beautiful.

“Excuse me? I’m standing right here!”

Sebastian’s voice cuts through the haze of lust that has taken over my body, and Eric slows the kiss, placing a few gentle pecks on my lips before pulling his mouth away from mine to glare at my ex.

“Not for much longer,” Eric tells him. “Get the fuck off my dock, douche dick. Ariel will get in touch with you when it’s convenient for her, and not a minute sooner.”

He looks away from Sebastian to smile down at me, his hand still pressed against my cheek.

“Anything else you liked to add before douche dick shows himself out?”

I laugh and shake my head at him.

“Nope. I think you covered it . . . Prince Hot Stuff.”

Neither one of us even notice when Sebastian walks around us and back towards the parking lot.

“Damn it! You were supposed to text that to me so I had it in writing and could hold it over your head. Possibly take out a billboard. Most definitely include it on my Christmas card,” Eric says with a smirk.

Moving out of his hold so I can remember how to breathe again, I turn and make my way towards my boat to put some distance between us so my heart can start beating normally again. And also so I can lock myself inside the bedroom, drink my weight in wine, and completely freak out and overanalyze what in the actual fuck just happened.

“Don’t press your luck, buddy!” I shout over my shoulder as I step up onto the gangway. “Or I’ll send out a mass email to all your friends with the picture I took of you at GOGA. Hashtag, poop dance!”

Forcing my legs to move faster even though they feel like jelly, I disappear below deck with the sound of Eric’s laughter ringing out on the dock, pressing my fingers to my swollen lips as I replay every moment of that damn kiss.

Chapter 11: Kiss the Girl

“Just a small town girl, living in a lonely woooooooorld!”

I wince when loud, off-key singing blasts through the sound system. I quickly cover both ears when the added joy of a high-pitched screech of feedback wails from the speakers on stage, making my eardrums want to explode.

The woman on stage finally brings her voice down to a normal singing level instead of trying to contact aliens in outer space. She still has the worst singing voice I’ve ever heard, but at least my ears are no longer bleeding.

“Why in the hell did we come here again?!”

I turn back around in my seat to face away from the stage, looking across the table at Belle and Cindy. They share equal looks of horror as they stare beyond my shoulder at the poor woman doing her best to butcher a Journey classic.

“You’ve sounded a little . . . out of sorts the last few days. I told you, I thought it would be fun to have our weekly Naughty Princess Club meeting somewhere other than cooped up in my house,” Cindy explains with a shrug, lifting her hand and signaling for our waitress.

When Cindy called me this morning and said we were moving our meeting to a little hole-in-the-wall bar in town, I initially thought it sounded like a good idea. No one could use a drink (or seventy-five) more than me at that moment. I didn’t even balk when she and Belle showed up at the boat two hours ago and picked out my outfit and helped me do my hair, saying I needed to sexy myself up to get out of the funk I’d been in the last couple of days. I didn’t bitch and moan when they told me to wear a white, clingy, long-sleeved off-the-shoulder sweater dress that stopped several inches above my knee, and pair it with grey suede high-heeled boots that came all the way up above my knee. Cindy put a shit ton of curls in my hair, then braided a few pieces in the front, pulling it all together to one side so the curls hung down over my shoulder. I didn’t bitch and moan because I knew they were right. The last few days, I teetered back and forth between feeling like absolute shit remembering the way Sebastian looked at me, to feeling like a sexy goddess remembering the way Eric looked at me and the fucking kiss he gave me. And then I’d fall right back down the rabbit hole of feeling like shit ten seconds later. Lather, rinse, repeat. I felt like I had emotional ADD.