Page 35 of The Thing About My Prince

“Everything in here has seen better days. Including my parents.”

“Funny guy.” He really is, and I’m not sure why that surprises me.

I turn the lever on the shower, and water splutters out in spits and spurts, splashing me in the face and making meflinch with a squeal before it settles into a weak, but steady, stream.

I turn around to find Oliver behind me holding a hand towel that was probably once white. “Here.”

I go to take it from him, but he dabs my cheek and forehead for me. The concentration on his face as he searches for every little spot of water is mesmerizing.

“What are you smiling for?” he asks.

Was I smiling?

Doesn’t matter—that’s not what this is about. It’s best to dodge that question and get on with the game.

“Well, hey, big boy,” I say loud enough for the vase on the nightstand outside the door to hear. “Good to see you standing at attention for me, like a fine royal guard.”

“What?”Oliver’s eyebrows virtually fly up to his hairline.

“Who needs to stay in the north tower when I can have the tower in your pants?”

I circle my hand, gesturing for him to get the gist and join in.

He tips his head to one side. “That’s the best you got?North tower?” he says quietly.

I give him a look that I hope saysGet with it, guy!

And get with it he does. “Oh my God, I love it when your melons are all wet and slippery.”

Silently, I exaggeratedly form the wordmelons. Melons? Really?

He beckons me in return, challenging me to give him my best shot.

“Your hands feel so good, like…warm…” I have no idea where I’m going with this. “…mittens…I want them all over me.”

He stifles a laugh at the word mittens.

I shrug, likeI don’t fucking know.

“My mittens can’t get enough of you, baby. I want you. So fucking badly.” He’s getting into it now. “I want to soap up allyour special little places, then slide right in and take you till you scream so loud the ancient light fixtures rattle.”

“Special little places?”I whisper.

He shrugs back at me.

“Oh my God.” I let out a long sigh. “Your fingers, your… Oh! what was that?”

“All me, babe.” He throws his head back, embodying the part. “My north tower is all yours.”

And that’s the point at which I lose it.

Doubling over, I wrap my arm around my face to block my laughter.

“Come on, hot cheeks.” He makes exaggerated panting sounds. “Tell me how good it is.”

I pull my mouth from the crook of my elbow just long enough to shout, “So good.”

“Tell me I’m the best.”