Page 21 of Bossy Wicked Prince

My lips part with a sigh.

Of course, the second I decide to just close my eyes and let it happen, the fantasy comes tumbling down. Nate takes two long, quick steps backward, putting enough space between us to drivea motorcycle through. His face shutters, his expression blank as a sheet of paper.

I blink in confusion. Weren’t we having amomentjust now?

Unless…oh god.

I made it up.

I misread the signs because I really am just that delusional. It’s been months since I’ve been kissed at all, way longer since I’ve had an actualgoodkiss. So I decided that the sexy billionaire wanted me. Obviously, because projecting my own horniness onto someone who’s actually in my league would just be too easy. I needed to fantasize about the most humiliating option available.

Somehow, I need to find a way out of this conversation with my dignity mostly intact.

“I—it’s bedtime,” I say awkwardly. “I’ve got a volunteer shift at the shelter tomorrow. Gotta sleep.”

He cocks his head to the side. “A homeless shelter? Is it nearby?”

“Not too far! Anyway. Goodnight.”

Grabbing my bag, I make it about five steps away from Nate before I realize the fatal flaw in my escape plan.

I have no idea where anything in this apartment is.

“Er, where is the guest bedroom?” I ask sheepishly.

“Second door on the left, across from the washroom,” he says.

I give him a thumbs up, because apparently I’m fully committing to maximum awkwardness. Then I hurry to my room as fast as I can.

7

NATE

Icrank the knob in my shower up as high as it can go. With the high-end water heaters at the House of Cards, that’s pretty fucking scalding. The steam fills the bathroom air until it’s thick enough to choke. When I step under the shower head, the heat’s so intense that my skin turns red.

Good. I intend to wash away the memory of everything that happened last night.

Even at the best of times, I don’t sleep much. Except on poker nights, I’m prone to working late into the night. For once, though, it wasn’t work keeping me up.

It was Cat.

The break-in must have shaken her up. She acted like it was nothing more than an inconvenience, but I know better. Having your house broken into is a violation. It’s why people really spend money on security. It’s not about keeping their valuables safe. Security matters because you need to know there’s one fucking place you can let your guard down.

No matter how strong Cat’s acting, she’s probably still on edge.

She needs someone to check up on her and make sure she’s okay. Fuck knows, I’m not exactly the comforting kind. If she’d stayed with her friend Pippa, she would have had someone to hug her and say all the right things. Since she’s here, all she has is me. I almost got out of bed so many times to check on her.

That’s not all I wanted to do.

Squeezing my shampoo onto my hands, I scrub my scalp harder than I need to. What the fuck was I thinking, almost kissing her like that last night? Sure, she’s a beautiful girl. She’s also vulnerable, stuck staying with me until her place is safe enough to go back to. I’d be the lowest kind of asshole if I made a move on her like this.

Of course, that didn’t stop me from dreaming about it—of what might have happened if I hadn’t come to my senses and stepped away. My dreams were nothing but images of Cat’s pale skin and soft, messy honey-blonde hair. Her warm voice, murmuring my name. Her hot lips pressing open-mouthed kisses along my neck, down my chest and stomach, until they hovered right above where I wanted her mouth most.

I woke up rock-hard, my cock leaking in my boxers.

Even after dragging myself out of bed and into the shower, I’m still so goddamn hard that it aches.

I wrap my hand around my cock. If I’m already planning to stay far away from Cat, I can at least let myself fantasize about her. Fuck, maybe it’ll help me tamp down on the urge to grab her whenever I get the chance.