Princely Submission by K.C. Wells

Chapter Sixteen

Stuart surfaced from a night of dreamless sleep, more rested than he’d felt in a long while. The reason for his present state was lying in his arms. Stuart didn’t recall going to sleep holding Jordan, but apparently during the night he’d gravitated toward him. Jordan was warm, the scent of the hotel shampoo and bodywash still clinging to him, along with the smell of the sheets.

He feels so good in my arms. Stuart’s chest grew tight. I should have refused when he asked me to stay. Agreeing to fuck him was one thing—sleeping with him was another. It clearly meant a lot to him, or he wouldn’t have asked. Stuart knew that by now.

He leaned in and inhaled, letting Jordan’s scent rekindle the previous night’s epic fuck. It had been one hell of a way to end a dry spell. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear all the sweet sounds Jordan had made, still see his parted lips and shining eyes, his heaving chest…

Why did I say there’d be a next time? The reason for that was obvious too. Subconsciously, he wanted there to be a next time. Too late now, I’ve said it. It remained to be seen if Jordan would remember Stuart’s words.

Stuart would lay even money that he would.

There was one meeting on Jordan’s itinerary that morning, and then the rest of the day was his to spend as he saw fit. And what if he wants to spend it in bed?

What rocked Stuart to his core was that he wanted that too. Years of abstinence, of telling himself he was too busy, that sex was an added complication he really didn’t need, that he was better off alone, and all it had taken to bring him tumbling off the wagon was taking a prince’s virginity.

Neither of them had said it was to be a one-off experience, but in hindsight, maybe that was something that should have been discussed. Stuart’s own reactions betrayed how deeply their encounter had affected him.

It was supposed to be just sex, Jordan’s first time…

Then why did it feel like so much more?

I shouldn’t want him the way I do.

There was one solution—to keep Jordan’s itinerary so full that there was no room for close encounters—or getting entangled in emotions.

I can’t afford to do that.

Stuart extricated himself from around Jordan’s sleeping form, grabbed his clothes, and crept out of the bedroom and across the living room to his own bed. His stomach churned.

What will he think when he wakes up to find me gone?

What went wrong?

Jordan went through the motions of eating breakfast, but his mind was elsewhere. He was at a loss to explain Stuart’s behavior. The man who had cradled him with such care the previous night seemed to have disappeared, and in his place was an efficient, brisk automaton who kept his distance. Stuart chatted with his parents and Piotr, smiled in all the right places—and rarely met Jordan’s gaze.

What did I do?

Stuart had switched off the light, and it seemed mere seconds elapsed before Jordan had heard the change in his breathing, signaling that he’d fallen asleep. The space between them in the bed had felt wrong, so he’d inched his way across, wriggling until he’d ended up where he wanted to be, with Stuart’s chest against his back.

Then Stuart had sighed in his sleep, and Jordan had been enfolded in his arms.

Perfect—at least, it had been, until he’d awoken to find Stuart gone. And although the reasons for his departure were plausible—he’d claimed to have been researching their outings for the day—surely that was something they could have done together.

Will you listen to yourself? Is it any wonder he’s keeping his distance? Jordan had never felt this… needy, and it disturbed him.

“I’ve forwarded the confirmation emails to you.”

Piotr’s voice broke through Jordan’s internal turmoil, and he blinked. “I’m sorry. Were you talking to me?”

Stuart coughed. “No, he was talking to me.”

Piotr nodded. “And you are in for a thrilling day, Your Highness.”

When nothing else was forthcoming, Jordan wiped his lips with his napkin, and stood. “If you will excuse me, I shall change into something more formal for the meeting.”

Stuart rose to his feet. “I’ll come with you.”

They walked out of his parents’ suite, Jordan’s heartbeat racing.

Talk to me, Stuart.

He cleared his throat. “So now do I get to learn what we’re doing?”

“I didn’t want to say anything until Piotr had made the bookings,” Stuart explained. “After your meeting, the car will take us to Long Beach. Barring traffic, that should take less than an hour.”

“What’s in Long Beach?”

“Parasailing.”

Despite the roiling in his stomach, Jordan smiled. “Oh.”

“Then I figured it was high time you got your first taste of food from a great American chain restaurant.”

“If it’s McDonald’s, I hate to disappoint you, but I visited one in Bucharest many years ago.”

Stuart’s eyes twinkled. “I doubt they have a Cheesecake Factory in Bucharest.”

He came to a halt in the middle of the path. “Do they only serve cheesecake?”

Stuart burst out laughing, and the sound eased Jordan’s troubled spirit. “They have a vast menu, and no, it’s not all cheesecake. And you’ll have a view of the marina while you eat.”

They resumed walking. “Piotr said confirmations. Plural.”

“That’s because after lunch, you have a surf lesson.”

Jordan opened the door to his suite. “You’re coming too, aren’t you?”

“Of course, but I don’t need a lesson.”

He blinked. “If I’m going out there on a surfboard, so are you.”

Stuart grinned. “Okay, okay, I’ll be out there with you.”

Jordan deposited his key card into the holder. “You have filled my day. You don’t think we might have done one activity today, another tomorrow—or some other day?”

Stuart gestured to the French doors. “It’s beautiful out there. Let’s make the most of it.”

“It’s been beautiful out there every day since we arrived.” Jordan narrowed his gaze. “Is this some plan to keep me busy?” And away from my bed, and the possibility of me dragging you into it? He didn’t dare utter the words.

Stuart stilled. “You came up with two activities that you really wanted to do. All I’ve done is schedule them for you. It just so happens that they both had openings today. I didn’t want to leave them till later. You do have a finite amount of time, remember.”

He realized with a flush that Stuart had spoken truthfully. “You’re right. And I am excited.”

What excited him more was the prospect of another night between the sheets with Stuart, but he had no idea if that would come to pass.

Then he allowed himself to relax a little. He said there’d be a next time, didn’t he? Jordan would hold him to that.

Except what he craved was confirmation that Stuart had enjoyed what they’d shared as much as he had. He knew it was immature—they weren’t lovers, after all—but it felt wrong to be so intimate and yet say nothing of it the morning after. Jordan had recently picked up a phrase from an American movie on TV, and it summed up his feelings to perfection.

You rocked my world.

Was it too much to hope that he’d rocked Stuart’s?

The boat chugged out of the marina, picking up speed as it sliced through the waves, heading for the open waters of the ocean. Jordan and Stuart sat on a padded bench, along with seven or eight other people, mostly couples. Two men were in charge, and while one steered, the other checked the ropes.

The wind tugged at Jordan’s hair, and the smell of the ocean filled his nostrils, mingled with the scent of sunscreen. The sound of the boat’s engine was overlaid now and then with the shriek of gulls high above their heads. Jordan tasted salt on his lips, his lungs filling as he inhaled deeply. He was already aware of the sun beating down on his head, and he wished he’d bought a hat when he’d had the chance in New York.

Stuart nudged his arm. “We’re next, I think.”

Jordan gestured to his thickly padded life vest in lurid green. “I’m not sure this is my color,” he quipped. Stuart’s was dark blue.

“It doesn’t matter what it looks like, as long as it works.” Stuart inclined his head toward the stern, where a rumpled heap of silk was expanding into a graceful parachute. “And yes, it’s our turn.”

The setup seemed complicated, but the man who beckoned them to sit in the slings appeared competent. He secured them, telling them to hold onto the straps.

“How high do we go?” Jordan asked.

The man pointed to the winch, around which was coiled the heavy tow rope. “We’ve got eight hundred feet of cable.”

Jordan gulped.

Stuart nudged him. “I didn’t tell your father that part. I figured what he didn’t know couldn’t worry him.”

They sat on the stern’s flat surface, their legs stretched out in front of them, and the man went over to the controls. “Here we go. Be ready. It’s a fast take-off.”

Suddenly, they were moving backward, rising rapidly into the air as the rope was paid out.

“Oh my God, he wasn’t kidding,” Stuart yelled as they went higher. “This is awesome.”

Jordan stared at their legs, dangling over the ocean, the boat becoming smaller and smaller as they rose higher and higher, until all he could see of it was a shape cutting through the water, leaving a trail of white in its wake.

It was beautiful. The silk billowed in the wind, making a sound as gentle as a sigh, and the noises of the world below fell away.

“Well?” Stuart said as they sped along. “What do you think?”

Jordan couldn’t stop smiling. “It’s amazing.” He felt so weightless, tingling from head to foot, his stomach fluttering. The sun was warm on his face, arms and legs. What consumed him most was a feeling of invincibility.

They dropped a little lower. Stuart tapped his hand, then pointed below. “Can you see them?”

At first, Jordan had no idea what he was referring to, until he saw the sleek shapes that speared through the water, arching over the waves with such grace that his heart ached to see them. “Oh, look at the dolphins.”

The day had become magical.

All too soon, they were winched in, the boat looming larger as they approached it, and then they were down, and the man was releasing them. Stuart helped Jordan back to the bench, while another couple took their place.

“Was it everything you thought it would be?”

Jordan grinned. “No, it was better.” He knew there would be few such events in his future, which made it all the more precious.

I want to remember this day. Because bound up in the sights, sounds, and smells of the ride would be the memory of Stuart beside him, sharing the experience.

Jordan stood in the surf, the waves lapping at his knees, and watched Rick with envy. “He makes it look so easy.” Their instructor was demonstrating the moves he’d just taught them, and right then he was riding a wave toward them, balanced perfectly on his board.

Beside him, Stuart laughed. “What do you expect? He’s been doing this for twenty-five years.”

“How old was he when he started? Three?” Rick’s youthful appearance hadn’t inspired Jordan with much confidence when they’d met him on the beach, but he had to admit, the man looked as though he’d spent his whole life on a surfboard.

“Hey, let’s try it again,” Rick hollered.

“Come on,” Stuart said, beckoning to Jordan. “Let’s go ride a wave.”

“Well, I haven’t managed it yet.” He’d come off the board five or six times thus far.

“Just remember to watch where the wave is biggest, and go in that direction. And don’t forget to paddle!”

Jordan laughed. “I didn’t know you were also a qualified surf instructor.”

Stuart reached over and touched his arm. “Okay. Let me remind you of the rules. Toes tucked, feet together. When you stand, don’t bend your upper body. Look where you want to go, not at your feet. Don’t lock your knees, keep them bent. And if you have to fall into the water, push backward, away from the shore. You don’t want the board to smack into you.” His eyes were warm. “You can do this.”

Jordan inhaled deeply. “Thank you.” He lay on the board, his hands flat, level with his chest, and they paddled out together. Out on the ocean, Rick sat on his board, waving them to join him.

When the wave came, Jordan pushed up with his legs, then went through the moves Rick had taught him, drawing his legs toward the middle of the board. To his utter joy, he found himself riding the wave’s crest, his arms outstretched, exhilaration surging through him as the water carried him toward the shore. He let out a whoop of triumph, and heard it echoed in Stuart’s cry somewhere behind him.

When they reached the beach, Rick applauded him. “We’ll make a surfer of you yet, Jordan.”

He beamed, but then his smile faltered. He thanked Rick for the lesson.

“I know what went through your head,” Stuart said in a low voice as they trudged across the sand to Rick’s hut where they would change out of their wetsuits. “I don’t suppose there are many opportunities to go surfing in Elloria.”

“Even if there were, I won’t have time for them.”

Stuart sighed. “Even kings need a vacation.”

Jordan snorted. “Tell that to my father. I don’t think he’s taken one since he became king. This trip is the nearest he’s come to it.”

“Then you need to be a different kind of monarch.” Stuart’s earnest tone brought him to a halt. “Everyone needs a break sometime.” His brow furrowed. “I’m no better. I need to follow my own advice.” An air of fatigue engulfed him, and Jordan’s chest constricted.

“Then I’m glad we got to do this today.”

“Stu? Is that you?” It was a man’s voice.

Stuart froze and his face tightened.

Jordan looked past him to the man and woman who approached them, two little boys in tow. The man was about their height, but not as well-built as Stuart. The woman was pretty, with blonde hair. It was obvious who the kids took after: their hair was so light, it was almost white. Then Jordan glanced at Stuart, and despite the sun’s heat, cold spread through him in a slow-moving tide.

Stuart’s face was ashen.

The man came to a stop, his eyes wide. “It is you. What are you doing out here in California?” He turned to the woman. “Honey, this is Stuart Whitmore. He and I served together.”

She smiled. “Hi there. Danny has mentioned you before.”

Stuart gave her a polite smile, his typical good humor nowhere to be seen.

Danny smiled too. “This is my wife, Tracy. I don’t know if you knew I’d gotten married, but—”

“I knew,” Stuart interjected, his tone neutral. He gave Tracy a nod. “Hi.” Then he glanced at the little boys who were chasing one another in the surf. “Looks like you have your hands full.”

“They love coming here.” Danny regarded Jordan with interest. “Hey. I’m Danny Ryland.” He extended a hand.

Jordan shook it, then opened his mouth to respond, but Stuart’s hand was suddenly at his back, and he clammed up.

“Are you still working as a bodyguard?” Danny asked.

“Yes.”

Danny gave Jordan another inquiring glance, but Stuart remained tight-lipped.

The hair lifted on the back of Jordan’s neck, and something quivered in his stomach.

Danny cleared his throat. “Well, it was great to see you. Gotta say, you’re looking good.” He took Tracy’s arm. “Take care.” They headed down the beach, Tracy calling to the kids.

Stuart strode toward the hut, and Jordan had to run to keep up with him. Once they were inside, Stuart reached for the cord that hung down his back and proceeded to peel off the rented wetsuit, his lips pressed firmly together.

Jordan wanted to know what the hell was going on, but some innate sense bade him keep silent. Wait until we’re at the hotel.

He knew one thing for certain—something was very wrong.