King Sized

“You’re inviting me to the party?” she breathes, eyes shooting wide.

I rub at the back of my neck. “Yes.”

“Oh, I would love to come. Yes, please.” She retreats into the room, turns in a circle. “I don’t have a gift.”

“I reckon the queen showing up will be gift enough.”

She nods, gracing me with a smile that very nearly kills me.

For a moment, we just stare at each other. I could go on staring at her all night, but I hear footsteps jogging closer from the opposite end of the hall. “If we’re going to go, love, we have to move fast. Do you have something to cover your head?”

“Yes.” Britta races back into the room a moment, then returns, a shawl over one arm.

She puts her hand in mine trustingly, but I don’t take the time to let that blow my mind—I’m holding Britta’s hand—because we have to move. She presses her free hand over her mouth on our flight down the stairs to suppress her giggles, and I can’t help but chuckle, too. At the bottom of the stairs, I signal for her to remain inside the entrance while I check for witnesses, then I’m pulling her out into the night behind me.

The stables aren’t far from the palace, and in no time, I have Britta behind me on my horse, her slim arms barely making it halfway around my waist to hold on. I try not to dwell on that as we ride through the palace grounds, Britta huddled against my back with the shawl draped over her head and hiding her face. Several perimeter guards eye the woman behind me, but say nothing, probably assuming she’s another member of the staff. It’s not unusual for guards to bring women home for a tumble, though I’ve never done so. Hopefully they’re not keeping track.

We make it to the drawbridge that leads out of the palace, into the kingdom of Downsriver. There are a couple of guards stationed there with unpleasant expressions.

“Free beer in the courtyard,” I call, jerking a thumb over my shoulder.

“Oi!” They brighten automatically. “You don’t say.”

Both guards trundle off toward the palace.

“Jesus,” I mutter. “The palace guards need to be put through some mandatory training, love. They’re not protecting you well enough.”

Britta is silent for so long, I worry I’ve offended her, until she says, “You could be in charge of the training, couldn’t you?”

“Me?” Surprised by the comment, I shake my head. “No, I’m not a…leader.”

“You’re the queen’s personal guard,” she points out, her arms tightening around me, her cheek pressing to my back. “Doesn’t that make you their leader in itself?”

Her confidence in me threatens to inflate my ego, but there’s no way I’ll let it. “Britta, I’m sneaking you out of the palace for a party. I’m fairly certain that makes the worst offender of them all. I’m only a member of the guard in the first place because…”

I stop talking before I reveal everything.

How I couldn’t think straight once I’d seen her in the procession.

How I hungered and worried and paced until I was stationed directly outside of her door where I belong. Serving her. Guarding her.

“I should prepare you for my sisters,” I say, deftly changing the subject. “They can get a little rambunctious. And loud.”

“I’m going to love them. I know it.” She pauses. “Have you brought many women home?”

“With my chiseled good looks, Britta? I’ve been beating the women off with sticks.”

She doesn’t laugh. “You keep hinting at the belief that you’re unattractive, Rex. What nonsense is that?” Her small hands trace up my chest, her fingertips ghosting over my nipples, dragging back down to tease the strained waistline of my pants. “Maybe you have so much goodness and strength and courage inside of you, it just needed more room to grow.”

My throat constricts. “Britta…”

Does she really believe what she says? No…it can’t be possible. I’m the big block of comfort and distraction when she needs it most. I’m honored to be those things for her. But I can’t let myself start to think nonsense. That she could really like me. Even if she did, nothing could come from it, so I need to quit being a fool. I need to try and be her friend and be happy for whatever amount of time I’m allotted before…

Before her comfort and happiness are someone else’s responsibility.

“So…” Britta’s pinky finger sneaks beneath my waistband, trailing side to side in my pubic hair, and my cock stiffens at a startling pace, my balls hardening excitedly. “You’ve brought no women home?”

“No,” I rasp. “None.”

“But you’ve…been with women before?”

I look back over my shoulder to gauge her expression, but her face is hidden by the shawl. It’s ridiculous to think she could be jealous, anyway. She’s the queen. I’m a guard. Surely I don’t have to worry about her feelings being hurt about things that happened in the past. “Ahhh. Sure, I’m thirty years old, Britta. Of course there have been…times.” I frown at the road ahead and let the honesty flow. “But truthfully, I can’t recall the details of a single one. Meanwhile…I can remember the number of buttons on your dress two weeks ago. And there’s been no one at all since…” Since I saw you for the first time. “For a good while, anyway.”