Kiss the Girl (Naughty Princess Club 3)

Vincent growls, and the officer chokes, trying to cover it up with a cough. He quickly grabs a glass of water from his desk and chugs it.

“The same goes for men. If you’re curious about it, you should give it a try. It’s very erotic when you’re with the right person. I could send you some articles. It’s important to know the facts and how to stay safe before you dive in,” I tell him, laughing at my pun.

“I think we’re finished,” the officer says, setting his empty glass down on the desk and quickly standing up.

“Oh, shit. Did I blow it?” I laugh again thinking about the blow job I gave Vincent on the way here to calm his nerves, even though I know I shouldn’t be laughing right now, but come on! I’m seriously punny today.

It’s not my fault everything makes me think of sex right now. My dad, bless his heart, moved in with us a few weeks ago, and it’s not exactly fun trying to have sex when he’s across the hall, so we’ve had to get creative.

My dad sold his home and is going to marry PJ’s mom, Luanne, next month. In preparation, they bought a condo together, so they could start their new life off right. My dad planned on living there until Luanne’s house sold, but the week he moved in, a pipe burst, and the condo is in the process of being gutted and renovated. I suddenly have a lot more appreciation for my dad and how nerve-wracking it was for him while I was living under his roof. I don’t know how many times I’ve caught him sneaking in at all hours of the morning, smelling like Luanne’s perfume, with a giddy smile on his face. Or the times I stayed up entirely too late, pacing back and forth in the living room when he said he would be home at eleven and didn’t waltz through the door until 2 a.m. Raising a defiant parent is such a struggle.

“Vincent Adams, your application to become a citizen of the United States is hereby approved. Please make sure your wife doesn’t send me any articles on anal sex,” the officer says, coming around the desk to shake both of our hands and congratulate us before quickly exiting the room.

I jump up from my chair as Vincent stands, launching myself into his arms.

“We did it! We passed the test! I told you it would be fine,” I tell him, wrapping my legs around Vincent’s waist as he lifts me higher in his arms and shakes his head at me.

“What am I going to do with you?” he laughs.

“Take me home so we can have sex in the library. Wait. Never mind. My dad is home. Let’s just go to my library, close it down for a few hours, and have sex in the stacks,” I tell him with a wag of my eyebrows.

“Have I told you lately that I’m glad I kidnapped you, forced you to live with me, and asked you to marry me?” Vincent asks.

“HA! See? You totally did kidnap me. But no. No you have not told me that lately. Not since at least breakfast. It’s been like, six hours. We’ve been married for five months, and you’re already turning into a boring, unromantic husband,” I sigh.

“Do you think they’d revoke my citizenship if I fuck you on this guy’s desk right now?” Vincent asks.

“As lovely as that sounds, we probably shouldn’t chance it. You’ve become entirely too grumpy for Canada to ever take you back,” I tell him with a smile. “I’m so glad I got in bed with the beast.”

Vincent reaches up and presses one of his hands against my cheek.

“And I’m so glad I fell in love with a shy, nerdy librarian who rocks my world.”

Ariel

Ten months later . . .

“Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?” I grumble, staring into the giant fish tank in the living room of our yacht. “When I agreed to buy a yacht with you and cohabitate nine months ago, I did not agree to you messing around with my fish!”

Eric laughs from over on the couch as I pull a chair over and dip my hand down into the water of the humungous tank that takes up half the wall of the living room. I know a relationship is all about compromise, and it really didn’t make sense to have ten fish tanks taking up counter space, but I still don’t think the Flounders like their new home. Especially when I come home every day to find that Eric has put in another stupid, kitschy fish-tank decoration, like this dumb treasure chest nestled in the rocks.

I pull the ceramic box out of the tank and turn around in the chair, shaking the water off of my arm to find Eric down on one knee at the base of the chair.