Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
I’m unbuttoning my borrowed vest and wondering if I have time for a quick shower when a text comes through from the woman herself—Excited to see you soon. Oh, and don’t change out of your costume. I have an idea…
I shoot back—What kind of idea?
A sexy one, she replies. What if we stay in character? The princess having a dalliance with her serving boy? What do you think?
I grunt, surprised, but more into the idea than I expect. I think that sounds inspired. Hot and keeping-things-casual friendly at the same time.
Agreed, she replies. Glad we’re on the same page. Consider yourself summoned by your princess. Don’t be late, serving boy. I don’t like to be kept waiting.
My lips curving in a wicked grin, I assure her, I won’t, princess. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t keep me away.
Bubbles fill the screen and then an emoji with a flirty smile and one word—Perfect.
“Not yet, but it will be,” I murmur to myself as I tuck my cell into my jeans pocket.
A little role-playing sounds like a great way to keep things fun and casual between us, and knowing I’ll get to make my fantasies involving Starling and that princess dress a reality has my blood pumping faster.
I head for the exit without saying goodbye to Mel. She’s busy directing clean-up and I figure it’s better to ask for forgiveness for taking her costume than permission. She’d want to know why I need Ren Faire gear after the fair is over and I’m not into explaining sex stuff to my sister, especially when I know she’s not getting any at the moment.
As soon as I’m outside the tent, I break into a jog, hurrying toward the parking lot, doing my best not to think about the last time I was this excited to meet up with a woman. I’m pretty sure I’ve never been this excited and that doesn’t bode well for keeping my heart in one piece.
But with Starling in that princess dress waiting for me just a few miles away…
Well, right now I can’t bring myself to care.
Chapter Eleven
STARLING
I arrive at the bike shop a few minutes early, figuring I can wait in my car for Christian if he isn’t there. But when I pull up, the lights are on inside and the small side door leading into the garage is open.
Heart racing with excitement, anticipation, and a teensy-tiny hint of fear, I park in front of the closed garage door before wrestling my giant skirt out of my tiny car. Then I take a beat to center myself, pulling in a long breath and blowing it out through pursed lips.
I can do this.
I can lose my virginity in a bike shop while pretending to be a princess having an after-hours dalliance with my serving boy.
It will be fun and a little silly and keep both Christian and I from taking the whole “first time” thing too seriously.
If penetration hurts as much as some of my friends have told me it did when they had their first time, I won’t break character. I’ll work through it in a princessly fashion, and it will be better the next time around. Every woman I’ve talked to about this kind of thing has assured me that sex gets better with repetition. Even Becky, whose boyfriend was also a virgin when they started hooking up, said they were having great fun by the end of their first month between the sheets.
But Christian is far from a novice. Christian knows his way around a woman’s body, has probably “deflowered” his fair share of virgins, and will put all his considerable knowledge to work in the name of pleasuring me out of my mind.
That’s why I’m here.
I trust him, I believe he has my best interests at heart, and I know he won’t judge me for not knowing all the sex ropes by the ripe old age of twenty-three.
At least…I hope he won’t.
He did laugh at me earlier, though.
The thought slows my steps as I move through the business part of the shop into the breakroom and the office beyond…
What if he laughs at me again? Or worse, what if he isn’t interested, after all? What if once things start to get hot and heavy, he goes limp, like Tyson did every time my clothes started to come off?
I’m about to race back to my car and text Christian, demanding he make a vow not to tease or laugh at me before I come back in, when the office door opens and Christian appears, still dressed in his historical garb on top, jeans on bottom.
He carries a cutting board with two silver flagons on top, just like the ones they served mead in at the fair.
“Milady summoned me?” he asks in a husky voice, the heat in his eyes making it clear laughter is nowhere on the agenda tonight.