Taken by Her Prince

And he wanted it, which surprised me.

I didn’t know what it meant, that he was ready for a higher level of intimacy than I was.

As I got up and walked into the bathroom, there was a knock at my door. I hesitated and looked down at myself. I was wearing a white tank top and a pair of black boy shorts underwear.

“Come in,” I said.

Steven opened the door and stepped inside. He wore a white button down tucked into black trousers. His eyes moved from the back over to where I stood framed in the bathroom door. He tilted his head and a smile came across his lips.

‘Good morning,” he said. “I’m happy you’re not putting pants on for me.”

I rolled my eyes. “I just got up.”

He gestured at a pile of clothes on the floor a few feet away with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I think I like you more when you’re wearing less.”

I gave him a stare and crossed my arms. “What do you want?” I asked.

“We’re going for a drive,” he said. “Get showered and dressed. We’re leaving in an hour.”

“And do I get a say in this?” I asked.

“No, you don’t,” he said. “So get dressed and be down soon. I’ll make you breakfast, if you want.”

“No, thanks.” I turned from him, pulling my tank top up just a bit more to give him a nice view of my ass. “Be down soon.”

I smiled to myself as I caught his eyes in the mirror, staring right at my butt, right where I wanted. He smirked and caught me looking at him in the mirror then grinned and left the room. I felt a little thrill run down my spine and I didn’t know what I was doing, teasing a mobster and a killer like that, but I couldn’t help myself.

It was the way he looked at me, like he wanted to rip off my clothes at any moment. I’d never been the object of someone’s attention like that before, and it felt good. It was pure, intense lust, plus a little something else mixed in. I wanted more of that look, more of those eyes moving down my body, picturing what we could do if only he could strip me naked and taste my lips.

I pushed those thoughts away and got ready. I showered, dressed, and headed downstairs a half hour later with my phone clutched in my hands. I still hadn’t turned it back on and didn’t know when I would.

Steven sat at the kitchen table with a laptop open. He sipped coffee and gestured at the kitchen. “Made a fresh batch,” he said.

I nodded and walked past him. I poured myself a mug and leaned against the counter for a moment before making toast and eggs. He seemed engrossed in whatever he was doing, and I couldn’t help my curiosity. When I finished cooking, I carried my plate to the table and sat across from him as I ate.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Looking at something,” he said without looking up.

“Oh thanks,” I said. “That’s really telling.”

He smiled but still didn’t look at me. “Maybe I’m trying to keep it a secret.”

“Is this for whatever we’re doing today?”

“Yes,” he said.

“And does it have to do with the Club?”

“It does.”

“Then I think I deserve to know.”

He looked up finally and raised an eyebrow as I bit into my toast and stared back.

“Deserve?” he asked.

“The Club is my territory,” I said. “And since I’m helping you with them, I feel like you should tell me what you’re planning.”

“You’re showing me their hideouts and naming some of their soldiers. You’re not getting involved in my actual plans.”

“You should rethink that,” I said.

He laughed and closed the lid of his laptop. “You really want to know?” he asked. “Even after last night, you still want to know?”

I frowned and looked away for a second. I picked up my fork and scraped the tines down the plate. The sound was too bright and high pitched, and it made me wince. I stopped and dropped the fork.

“Okay,” I said. “Maybe I don’t.”

“You don’t,” he said. “Trust me, little Colleen. You’re better off not knowing.”

I stared at him and remembered the gunshots, remembered the wild look in his eye.

As cool and calm as he sometimes seemed, Steven liked action. He like danger and blood and pain. I saw the thrill written all over his face as we drove away from that robbery, and although he felt guilty for letting things go bad, he still loved every second of it.

“At least tell me if this will be dangerous,” I said.

“It will be very dangerous.” He put his hands on the table palms down and leaned toward me. “Want to stay home?”

“No,” I said.

He grinned. “I didn’t think so. Finish eating. We’re leaving in ten minutes.” He got up and disappeared upstairs, bringing his laptop with him.