Royally Not Ready(57)

“Lilly,” I groan.

“What?” she asks. “It’s hot springs time. Strip down, Fitzy.” And then she pulls her shirt over her head and drops it to the ground with the rest of her clothes. She wraps her arm over her breasts and then turns toward me, covering herself so I don’t see anything, but I’m teased to the point of getting hard. “Uh, you still have clothes on.” When I don’t move, she rolls her eyes. “Am I going to have to strip you down myself?”

“No,” I say quickly.

She snaps at me. “Then get with it. It’s not like I haven’t seen you in your underwear before. Stop being shy. Plus, I’m going to need your help navigating my entry into this thing.”

Knowing I’m not getting out of this, I reach over my head, pull my shirt up and over my body, and drop it with her clothes.

“Oh, yeah, take it off,” she hollers, causing me to give her a menacing stare. It does nothing but make her laugh.

I finish removing my clothes, leaving just my briefs on, and then move to the hot spring.

“You know, you have a really nice ass,” she says. “This guy doesn’t skip out on his squats.”

I glance over my shoulder at her teasing grin, and because she’s one of few who can loosen me up, I say, “I could say the same about you.”

Her eyes soften before her smile grows even wider. “Oh my God, people, did you hear that? Keller Fitzwilliam likes my ass.”

“Can you contain yourself, please?”

“Never.” She winks.

I squat down to the water and then sink in, feeling the ground beneath me.

“Is it deep?” she asks. “I mean, I like it deep, but I just need to prepare myself.”

“You realize that’s not how a queen speaks.”

“As far as you know.” Her arm still wrapped around her breasts, she moves toward the edge of the springs and then sits on her butt, dipping her legs in the water. “Oh God, you’re going to have to excuse me if I moan.”

“Great,” I say sarcastically.

“Give me your hand, help a lady out.”

“From what flies out of your mouth, I wouldn’t say you classify as a lady.”

“What about a lady of the night?” She wiggles her brows.

“That feels more accurate.” I take her hand in mine and then help her in, only for her to trip on God knows what and fall forward, straight into my arms.

Her tits press against my bare chest.

Her hard-as-shit nipples rub against my skin.

The cold steel of her piercings causes my entire body to break out into a sweat despite being in a pool of warm water.

“Oh, dear heavens,” she says, gripping me by the shoulders. “We, uh . . . we’re touching.”

“We are,” I say past a tight jaw.

“My boobs are against your manliness.”

“Yup. Are you intending to remove them?”

“I am . . . I am, just trying to figure out how to do this in a classy way.”

“There’s no classy way of getting out of this. Just pull away.”

“Okay. I’m going to count to three.”

“There’s no need to count. Just pull away.”

“But counting feels right. A finality to these unforeseen circumstances.”

“There could have been a finale several seconds ago,” I huff out, praying to fucking God she doesn’t feel how hard I am.

“Right, right. Okay, on three.” She takes a deep breath. “We shall part.”

“Just count.”

Her eyes meet mine. “We part on three, not after. Right on three.”

“Jesus, fuck,” I say as I push her away, sending her to the other side of the spring.

“That wasn’t on three.”

“Yeah, well, you were taking too fucking long,” I say, getting as far away as I can, my cock straining for her.

“Excuse me for attempting to be graceful.” She reaches up to her ponytail, undoes her hair, and then dips her head back into the water. When she lifts, she looks like a goddamn wet dream—her skin wet, her tits just below the surface of the water, her expression completely relaxed.

It’s too much to fucking bear, especially after the rubdown I just received from her nipple piercings.

With both hands, I cover my face and groan.

“What’s wrong? Step on something wrong? An unexpected jagged rock, perhaps?”

“No.” I lean my head back against the edge of the spring and close my eyes. If I close my eyes, then I won’t be tortured.

“Then what was it?” I hear her still. “Oh God, is there an eel in here? Ready to snap my nips off?”

“For fuck’s sake, no. Just . . . just relax.”

“You promise there are no eels?”

“There are no eels.”

“Okay.” She shifts against the mud wall and rests her head. There, see, with my eyes closed and her far away, this will be completely fine. “Mmm,” she moans. “This feels so good.”

Or maybe not.

My eyes slide open and I catch her lift up . . . and my eyes fall to her naked breasts. It’s the smallest glimpse, but that’s all it takes. They’re imprinted in my brain. Small, pink nipples with barbells horizontally through them, the tiniest of swells, just enough for a palmful.