Chapter 15

15

Thala

Hank made me see stars.

Over and over.

He was not an aberration or a one-time wonder. This man knew how to fuck with his talented tongue, fingers, and glorious cock. After a quick break, we were back on the couch. I was riding his cock, and when I was about to come, I wondered if I could bring him home with me to Venusstea.

Tell parliament to change the laws and I could have a commoner as my consort.

I also wondered if my sister was protective of Ramsay because they were having raunchy sex like Hank and I had.

Before the thoughts of my sister ruined the buildup to my orgasm, I came. It wasn't as hard as before, but I'd lost count. My poor pussy was sore, but this man was addictive.

I sagged against him, and his arms came around me. We were breathing hard for a long time. I was sweaty and sticky. I needed another shower.

His hands ran up and down my spine. Rough hands. Nowhere near as refined or soft as the ones that had touched me previously.

"I've lost you there, Princess. What's on your mind?"

I shook my head, nose still buried in the crook of his neck and shoulder. I inhaled him. Sweat, man, and cedar.

He continued to stroke my back. It was soothing, but I could hear him thinking.

"That's our last condom," he informed me after a while. "I need to get rid of it."

"Okay, but I have the implant, just in case you're wondering." I lifted off him and we both gave small grunts of not wanting to move. He walked to the bathroom and I followed him to clean up. We didn't say another word. Not even when we got into the shower together. We both sensed we were veering into dangerous territory that was more than physical. For my part, I genuinely liked Hank. I was in awe of his skills and he was pleasing to look at.

I smiled inwardly. A bittersweet feeling pinched my heart. He was hot as hell. And I hated my restrictions as a princess.

The water had washed away the soap, yet we remained under its spray. Hank turned me to face him, and my heart twisted at the regret darkening his eyes.

No. No. No.

Emotions weren't supposed to be involved.

It was too fast. Too soon.

He kissed me briefly, hugged me tight before he shut off the water.

When we stepped out of the shower, a somberness cloaked us.

He towel-dried my hair and my body. I let him pamper me.

After he was done, he wrapped the towel around me and grabbed another one off the shelf. Then without looking at me, he left me in the bathroom.

A finality to his actions made me want to run after him and yell at him we weren't over. But what good would it do?

I threw on another pair of pajamas, unsure if I wanted to rush out there to have it out with him or hide in here to avoid an awkward scene. But I wasn't one to avoid confrontations, so before I lingered and overanalyzed the situation, I walked out.

Hank sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, and head down in a posture of deep contemplation. His shorts were back on.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"I think we shouldn't go to the festival," he said, looking up.

"Why?" The only thing that changed was we had sex, but we already agreed that it was a one-off, or rather, one night, as it was turning out to be.

"Because." He swallowed several times. "I think it's more important to work on finding out who's trying to assassinate you and your sister. We were supposed to work on it tonight," he added roughly.

I crossed my arms. "Are you saying it's my fault for seducing you?"

"No, dammit." He rose and scrubbed his face in frustration, turning away from me briefly before facing me again. I couldn't bear the regret etched on his face. "I was with you all the way… What happened was on me too."

"Then—"

"The sooner you leave, the better."

I didn't know what to say to that. Humiliation and anger heated my cheeks.

"Shit, what I meant was—"

"You've fucked a princess and you can mark another notch off your bedpost."

"Don't you dare," he growled, "fucking say that. Don't cheapen what we just had."

"Then—"

"I can't be around you and not sink inside you. Not taste you." He erased the distance between us and grabbed my shoulders roughly, his fingers sinking in, almost to the point of pain. "I can't be this close and not want to do this."

He slammed his mouth on mine and devoured me as if he was thirsty and was about to have his last drink. Lifting his head, he muttered while he touched my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, "For my sanity, we need to get this done." His voice was hoarse as if he was in unbelievable agony.

"What if sex and kissing are not off the table?"

He reared back. "What?"

"Hank, I don't want to live in regret." I dug my fingers into his sides and pulled him close. "You think now that I've found a man who can make me come on command, I'm going to let you go?"

"Are you using me, Princess?"

"You're the whole package. Can you blame me?" I teased back. Bantering with Hank came naturally. I didn't know if it was the coziness of this space. "You helped me hack, and you helped me achieve orgasm."

"I'm at your service."

"We need condoms," I said woefully.

He laughed. "I'll get on it, but not tonight. You, Princess, need sleep for a full day at the fair."

I laughed with him, and when our laughter died down, we simply stared at each other again. It was my move, and so I made it. "Hank Bristow, do you want to sleep with me in the bed?"

His shit-eating grin that used to annoy me warmed me all over.

"Thought you'd never ask."

Our gazes drifted to the bed and an awkward silence ensued.

"I'll take whichever side you don't want," he said.

"Ever the gentleman. I claim the right side."

As I climbed into bed, I shifted on my side, my hands cradling a cheek, watching Hank move through the tiny cabin, rechecking doors. When he turned off the lights, I traced his silhouette. He paused for a slight second before the mattress dipped. I could feel him staring at me in the dark. There was maybe a foot and a half of space between us.

"A man has never spent the night in my bed."

"You don't have a knife under your pillow, do you?"

I gave a silent laugh before saying, "You're more likely getting a black eye if I wake up disoriented."

"Thanks for the warning." He moved closer. "So, at this point, you're not sure of the personal space you want in bed."

"I don't know," I admitted.

"Does it feel strange that I'm in bed with you?"

"Not really. I thought it over today."

"You did?" Humor and male satisfaction laced his words. I didn't have to see his face to tell he was smug.

"Well, I felt bad that you've been sleeping on the floor when this bed is perfectly big enough for both of us."

"Let me get this straight…in what capacity are we sharing a bed?"

I scooted closer to him, clasped his shoulder, and kissed him. Drawing back a little, I whispered, "Is that clear enough?"

"Crystal."

We started kissing again, before he pulled back. "We don't have condoms."

"There are other ways."

I started to crawl down his body, but Hank stopped my descent. "No."

"You're saying no to a blowjob?"

He choked with laughter. "I'm saying I'm responsible for you, and I get that my body is irresistible to you, but you need sleep."

Even if he couldn't see me, I pouted. "You're right."

"So face away, baby, and we can spoon."

Baby . No one had ever called me baby probably for fear of getting punched in the face, but with Hank, I was finding myself very much on board with being called "baby."

So I decided to try this spooning on for size. I faced away from him and his body pressed into mine. "It can't be comfortable for your arm."

"Let me worry about that," he murmured into my hair. "Just sleep, okay, Princess?"

I must have been more exhausted than I thought. And I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep, but next time I blinked, it was to a pounding at the door and it was morning. Sunlight peeked through the slits of the curtains. The mattress shifted, and Hank cursed and stalked to the front of the cabin. He peeked through the curtains, then back at me. "It's Jim."

"I'm up." I jumped out of bed and padded into the bathroom.

I heard Hank and Jim talking through the closed door. I went about my morning routine, but when I turned off the faucet, the hushed voices I heard earlier had died down. They must have gone outside. I made myself decent just in case they returned to the cabin.

When I emerged from the bathroom, it was only Hank who was there.

"What did Jim want?"

"A ride to the festival. His pickup crapped out. He needs to get Edgar to the petting zoo."

"Aw…"

"Be right back." Hank strode straight to the bathroom. I headed to the kitchen and stared at the coffeemaker as if I could magically will it to brew. I was useless in the kitchen.

"Coffee's not going to make itself."

I startled and spun around to see Hank leaning against the kitchen island. Mirth glinted in his eyes. He was wearing jeans and a blue tee.

"I didn't hear you."

"Former SEAL."

I rolled my eyes. He walked around the counter. "Princess, you gotta learn how to make coffee. What if I'm not around?"

"Okay, then show me."

"Not right now. Right now, you're going to change. Wear jeans and your most comfortable shoes. I saw sneakers in the box Kelly sent."

"All right."

But before I could move away, he yanked me into his arms and sealed his mouth over mine. I opened beneath him and tasted the mintiness of toothpaste.

When he pulled away, the tenderness in his eyes made my toes curl. "Good morning."

"Good morning," I breathed.

He nudged me toward the bathroom. "Go get ready."

Hank

"What the fuck?" Jim boomed from the back of the vehicle.

It was too much to hope that my uncle would remain calm today. He and Thala seemed to have called a truce. Not a single snippy word came out of the other. Besides, this morning was about getting Edgar loaded into the horse trailer. The mule wasn't fond of car rides. But I wondered if it was because of the way Jim drove.

Jim's ire wasn't directed at Thala, but at the big banner of Fisker as a sponsor of the fair.

"I didn't know about this." Jim inserted himself between the seats. "I'd have said no to Edgar being at the festival."

"And what? Deprive the kids of his company?" I challenged. We weren't the first of the participants to arrive. Vendors were already setting up and doors opened to the public in an hour. I found a parking space wide enough to accommodate the SUV and the trailer.

"Having their name attached to the valley's annual festival is a travesty," he grumbled.

Thala and I exchanged glances and she shook her head with a suppressed smile gracing her mouth. This wasn't how I expected our day at the festival to start. Seriously, my uncle was cramping my style. Then guilt came at the heels of that thought. Jim took me in when no one would. He raised me. I'd stayed away for ten years because I hated this place, but I never hated Jim.

"Look, if it makes you feel any better, and I would have told you sooner, but I'm no longer keen on selling the cabin, at least to Fisker. We met Christian and Fisker at Valley Roadhouse yesterday, and that meeting sealed the deal, so to speak."

"You didn't—"

"Didn't tell you this morning? No, because it would have been a long-winded conversation."

"Okay." Jim seemed instantly appeased. "I hear the French créperie place is serving breakfast. You should take Tessa there."

"You're not coming with us?" Thala asked.

"I feel bad imposing on you two lovebirds this morning. You probably weren't planning to wake up this early to drive an old man around."

He was getting sentimental again. "You're family, Jim. My favorite."

My uncle guffawed and then coughed.

"Are you still smoking?" I asked in a censuring tone.

"Sometimes. Had a cigar yesterday. Felt good with the cooler weather."

"Just remember, you're not getting any younger."

"Exactly. YOLO." Jim laughed again and tapped Thala's seat. "Heard them young ones saying it at the gym."

"You go to the gym?"

"Contrary to what you think, I'm not a hermit. Jill got me into it. There's senior nights and I don't feel out of place."

"Jill?" Thala asked. "Our server yesterday?"

"Yes." Jim grinned.

"She doesn't look a day over fifty," Thala said. "Or forty-five, for that matter."

"She's forty-eight. She teaches the senior calisthenics class."

"Sounds fun," Thala replied.

"Wait a minute, is that High Striker idea yours?" I asked.

"Well…" My uncle let it hang. It was totally his idea. Did he think I needed help to impress Thala? His silence was answer enough, and instead of confirming, he said, "I'm mad at her. She didn't tell me Christian was there with them Fisker folks."

"She probably didn't want you frothing at the mouth."

"Well, she'll know how frothing at the mouth I will be."

"Is she here?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

"Yup. Valley Roadhouse is a vendor. They never miss the festival."

Thala and I exchanged glances again, communicating the same thing. Looked like my uncle had a lady friend of his own.

We got out of the SUV. While Thala looked around, Jim and I went to unload Edgar. I stood back while he unlatched the trailer door.

Edgar stomped a hoof and snorted at Jim.

"Easy there, boy."

"He doesn't look happy," I observed.

"You think?" my uncle said. "I'm probably projecting my displeasure at being here."

"Well, stop projecting."

"Has he done this before?" Thala asked behind us.

"Last year was the first time. He did okay," Jim answered, and just like that, I felt the irritation spark between them again.

"Aren't they the ones who hold grudges, or is that the donkey?" I asked.

"Mules," Jim said.

"Did something happen at last year's festival?" Thala asked.

Edgar made a loud braying sound and continued to scrape the floorboard.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Jim said. "Look, we don't need the added anxiety. Move aside, will you?"

"No need to be rude," I told my uncle tersely. "She's just concerned."

Edgar snorted and stomped and made a nodding movement.

"See, even he agrees." I pointed at the mule.

"Horseshit," Jim snapped. He entered the trailer, unhooked the cross ties, and tugged on the reins. Edgar refused to budge.

"Come on. I'll give you an apple," he told the mule.

I stood back and crossed my arms while my uncle used different cajoling tactics. When sweet talk didn't work, he tried demands, but finally ended up muttering, "Stubborn mule."

"That's almost redundant."

Thala stepped inside and told Jim, "Out."

"What the hell is your problem?"

"You. Obviously, Edgar doesn't like to be put up for exhibition, but I'm trying, so you won't hold a grudge against him."

"What do you know about mules?"

"Nothing, but I know horses."

"Really?" That seemed to have caught Jim's interest, and he glanced at me. "You holding out on me, son?"

I shrugged.

"If what I do doesn't work, then promise me you'll let us take you and Edgar back to the cabin," Thala said.

"Of course. I'm not gonna force him." Jim sounded indignant, but he stepped down immediately, obviously desperate. If there was anything I knew about my uncle, he'd like to keep his word, and despite his misgivings with Fisker being a sponsor, he was going to fulfill his commitment to the organizers until the bitter end. Unless, of course, it was to the detriment of Edgar.

Thala extended her hand to Edgar. "Okay, big guy, what's the problem?"