Princely Submission by K.C. Wells

Chapter Six

Stuart adjusted his tie, then checked his reflection. He didn’t mind wearing a suit. It made a change from some of his more… interesting assignments. He picked up his phone and scrolled through the itinerary for the day. The first meetings with executives would take place that morning, and he knew the king wanted Jordan present.

“Ow!”

Stuart ran to the adjoining door and flung it open. “What happened?” Jordan stood in his pajama pants, clutching his arm. “Why aren’t you dressed?” Then Stuart noticed the bucket of ice sitting on the coffee table, a saltshaker beside it. “Okay, what the hell are you doing?”

“That burns.” Jordan was still holding his arm against his bare chest.

“What burns? Show me.”

Jordan glared at him. “No. It’s nothing to do with you. Leave me alone.”

Stuart softened his voice. “Jordan, show me.” With extreme reluctance Jordan held out his arm, where a small blister was forming in the delicate pale skin above his wrist.  “What did you do?”

“It was this challenge I saw on TikTok.”

Stuart groaned. “What kind of challenge?” Except he had a fair idea. Some of the more stupid challenges had made their way to the news.

“You’re supposed to put salt on your skin, and then lay ice on top of it, and see how long you could hold it there.”

Ice cubes lay scattered over the carpet, and Stuart scooped them into his hand and dropped them into the ice bucket. “So how long did you manage?” Jordan mumbled a reply, and Stuart straightened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get that.”

“About two seconds, okay? It was too cold, and then it burned. So I dropped the ice.”

Stuart was doing his damnedest not to laugh. He cleared his throat. “Then think yourself lucky. It could have been much, much worse.”

Jordan frowned. “How?”

“Put it this way. I’d like to see how you explain to your father how you managed to get third-degree burns in your hotel room.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

Stuart nodded. “I’ve heard about the salt and ice challenge. You’re supposed to hold the ice on your skin for five to ten minutes. The thing is, what you get is frostbite.” Jordan’s phone lay on the floor, and Stuart bent to pick it up. “Were you recording yourself doing it?”

“I was supposed to be. But the minute the ice touched my arm…”

Stuart took another look at his arm. “I think you’ll live. And if it makes you feel any better, you’re not alone. I’ll bet hundreds of kids have tried this.”

Jordan stuck out his chin. “I’m not a kid.”

Stuart sighed. “No, you’re not, but you haven’t been exposed to social media. This is all new.”

Jordan froze. “Don’t tell my father. Please?”

“I won’t. We’ll put a Band-Aid over it, but he won’t see it when you’re in your suit.” Stuart arched his eyebrows. “You do intend getting dressed at some point this morning, don’t you? Your parents are expecting you to have breakfast with them before the meeting, so unless you intend eating like that…” He gestured to Jordan’s bare upper body.

The injured prince was gone. Jordan’s glance was positively coquettish. “What’s wrong with the way I look? Don’t you like these pajamas?”

Stuart coughed. “They’re okay. Your father might not think so if you turn up in them.”

“Well, if you’ll get out of here, I’ll put on some clothes.”

Stuart was glad to see Jordan’s attitude. “Right away, Your Highness.” He needed to get out of there anyway. The sight of Jordan’s smooth, bare chest, pointy nips and lean belly was a definite distraction. It wouldn’t be good if Jordan caught him staring.

Jordan narrowed his gaze. “You know, when you say ‘Your Highness’ in that tone of voice, it always sounds like you really mean something else.”

“Really? Can’t imagine why you’d think that.” How Stuart kept a straight face, he’d never know. He headed back through the adjoining door and closed it. He shook his head. If he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn Jordan was flirting with him.

He can’t know I’m into guys. Stuart was not that transparent. Or does he just do this with every guy he meets on the off-chance one of them will take the bait?

Because the bait was certainly tempting. Those soft pajama pants had left nothing to the imagination, and tearing his gaze away from Jordan’s erection had required enormous effort. The swirling design on his upper right arm curved up over his shoulder.

His body just… flows beautifully.

Then Stuart pushed such thoughts aside. He couldn’t afford to think of Jordan in those terms. That was an itch he’d never be able to scratch.

What shocked him was the realization that he wanted to.

A moment’s peace.

Stuart was thankful for it. He’d ordered coffee and was sitting on one of the couches in Jordan’s room, checking his phone. Negotiations had begun in earnest, and Jordan was with his father, looking every inch a royal prince in his dark suit. He’d been quiet throughout breakfast, and the queen had commented on it. He’d eaten well, however, and there had only been one glare aimed at Stuart, when he’d asked if Jordan needed salt.

If looks could kill…

Dave appeared at the open door. “Having a morning off?”

Stuart laughed. “I just bought tickets for Jordan’s first sightseeing trip.” He hoped Jordan would like it.

“You might be taking him on it sooner than you think. The king is taking a break between meetings, and I think Jordan is done.”

Stuart blinked. “Already? Well, he lasted an hour.” He guessed it was time to go shopping. The tickets were for after lunch. He drained what was left of his coffee, then got up from the couch. “I’ll meet him in the presidential suite. There’s no telling what he’ll get up to if left to his own devices.” He grabbed the box containing the phone. It was fully charged, and Stuart had programmed his number into it, plus Dave’s.

“Are you going to tell him about the app?” Dave asked, his eyes bright.

“Hell no.” Stuart wanted to keep some things a surprise.

He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. Then they went along the hallway to the presidential suite, arriving just as Jordan was coming out of the door.

“Ready to shop for some clothes, Your Highness?”

Jordan nodded. “Then can we do something?”

“Can you elaborate on ‘something’?”

Jordan’s eyes glittered. “Anything, as long as it’s away from the hotel, and it’s fun.”

“I think I can fulfill both those criteria.” He held out the box. “This is for you.”

Jordan gaped at it. “A phone?” He almost tore the box open to get at it.

Light dawned. “You haven’t had a phone before, have you?”

He shook his head. “I had no need of one in Elloria. Who would I have called? Not that I ventured much from the palace. And when I did, I was always with someone.” He bit his lip. “Well, almost always.”

“Yes, your father told me about the tattoo.”

Jordan flushed. “I think he will never let me forget that. I did ask for a phone, several times, but one never materialized so I gave up.”

“Well, now you have one. This is for emergencies, okay? My number is programmed into it. If we ever get separated, you call me. Have you got that?”

Jordan smiled, pocketing the phone. “Of course.” As they headed for the elevator, Stuart caught his muttered comment.

“Just not right away.”

The clothes selection wasn’t huge, but judging by Jordan’s smile, it would do just fine. Stuart stood aside while the prince went along the racks, looking at sweatshirts and tees. He’d already chosen a pair of jeans, and the girl at the cash register had assured him he could exchange them if they didn’t fit.

“I love these T-shirts,” Jordan exclaimed.

Stuart couldn’t help smiling at his enthusiasm. “I bet you don’t wear many of those in the palace.”

“I have a few,” he confessed. “But they’re all plain. My mother saw to my clothes.” He grinned. “I have to have some of these.”

“Which ones?” Stuart had enough of a handle on Jordan to know his choices would raise eyebrows.

Jordan went along the rack of T-shirts, pulling out a few. “Somehow I don’t think my father would like some of them.”

“Then you’d better show me.”

Jordan held one against his chest. “What about this one?”

Stuart burst out laughing as he read the words Don’t get me started BITCH - I don’t come with BRAKES. “I think you’re right. He’d hate it. Show me another.” Jordan held up the next one, which was more innocuous. Everyone was thinking it - I just said it. “Okay, that’s a maybe. Next?” The white T-shirt was emblazoned with the words Underestimate me. That’ll be fun. “And that is something I will never do with you.”

Jordan flushed. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.” He cocked his head to one side. “Most people around me are easy to read, but not you.”

“Glad to know I provide you with a challenge.”

He held up another. “What about this one?”

Stuart coughed. “I don’t think wearing a shirt that says Don’t touch me peasant is quite the thing for a prince, do you?”

“Maybe not. Well, how about this one?”

The soft gray T-shirt had the words Awesome. adj. 1.Yup, you’re looking at it. across the chest.

Stuart grinned. “I like it. I’m not sure your parents would.”

“I promise not to wear them when my parents are around. Only when it’s the two of us and we’re out of the hotel.” He scowled. “I didn’t want a T-shirt with I heart New York on it. That would make me look like a tourist. I want to blend in.”

Stuart laughed. “Trust me, with those tees, you’ll blend in all right. So which ones are you going to take?”

Jordan’s eyes gleamed. “All of them.” He clutched the T-shirts to him, bouncing from foot to foot. Stuart noted his flushed appearance, and the grin he couldn’t contain.

Elation was a good look on him.

Stuart glanced around the store. “Is there anything else you’d like while we’re here?”

“I don’t think so.”

His gaze alighted on a rack nearby. “Do you swim, Jordan?”

He blinked. “Yes. Elloria doesn’t have a pool, but I learned to swim in the river. Father insisted. Why?”

“Because there is a pool at the hotel, and I thought those might come in useful.” He pointed at the rack of swim trunks. “Unless you brought some with you.”

Jordan shook his head. “I didn’t think about that.” He smiled. “I’m only going swimming if you do.”

Stuart gaped at him. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll need my bodyguard. What happens if I get a cramp and drown?” His expression grew smug. “Do you swim, Stuart?”

“Yes, I swim.”

There was a twinkle in Jordan’s eye. “I bet I can beat you in a race.”

“Oh? Are you that good a swimmer?”

Jordan flashed an impish grin. “No, but you’re getting on in years. That will slow you down.”

Stuart laughed. “You like poking the bear, don’t you?”

He frowned. “‘Poking the bear’?”

“Maybe your tutors didn’t teach you that idiom. Well, let me paint you a picture. Imagine you find a sleeping bear. As long as you leave it alone, it’s harmless. But if you walk over to it and poke it, and wake it up…” Stuart grinned. “I leave the rest up to your imagination.” He marched over to the rack and began searching through the swim trunks for something in his size. “I need a new pair anyway.”

“They make swim trunks for bears?”

Stuart whirled around to face him. “Are you implying I’m a bear, Your Highness?” Jordan could have no clue what bears were in gay terms, and Stuart wasn’t about to utter a word on the subject.

“There you go again. It feels as though you mock me when you address me in that tone.”

He stilled. “I’m not mocking you. Choose some trunks, then I’ll take you someplace where you get to see a lot of the city.”

Jordan’s smile lit up his face. “I’d like that.” He went over to the rack and perused the selection.

Stuart watched him. Jordan was a royal PITA, but there were moments when he revealed a side to him that was very attractive. Come to think of it, the whole package was pretty alluring.

Whoa there. Don’t even think about it. Matt would have your balls for breakfast.

Jordan held up a pair of the skimpiest Speedos Stuart had ever seen. “What about these? I like the color, although I might have a little difficulty fitting into them.” His eyes locked onto Stuart’s. “Should I try them on, then you can tell me how they look?”

Jesus.

Stuart pointed to the more conservative trunks. “I’d go for something more like that.”

Jordan’s pout was pure flirt. “Spoilsport.” He returned the Speedos to the rack with exaggerated reluctance, then picked up a pair of regular trunks. “These are boring.”

“But they’ll do the job,” Stuart affirmed.

Jordan’s eyes sparkled. “Then I’d better make sure to tie them properly. We can’t have them coming off when I dive into the pool, can we?” His mischievous grin reached his eyes.

Stuart cleared his throat, trying not to picture Jordanwithout his trunks. “I think we’re done here.”

This kid is a fucking tease.

They’d walked along 5th Avenue for about three blocks before Jordan’s curiosity got the better of him. “Will you at least tell me where you’re taking me?”

Stuart pointed to the right. “Over there. You’ll see soon enough.”

Jordan couldn’t believe how many people were out on the streets. There had to be thousands, strolling along, in all states of dress: tourists following their guide, men in suits, families… “Is it always like this?”

Stuart laughed. “Yeah, pretty much. You know they call it the city that never sleeps, right? If you want somewhere quieter, I could always take you to Central Park.”

He scowled. “If I wanted to see grass and trees, I could have stayed in Elloria.” He glanced at Stuart. “Thank you for not wearing a suit, by the way.” He would have felt awkward being accompanied by a suited Stuart, when he’d elected to wear jeans and a sweatshirt. Stuart in jeans, tee and a black leather jacket was just as drool-worthy as Stuart in a suit. What disconcerted Jordan was how his gaze was drawn to Stuart’s nipples, pushing against the white cotton of his T-shirt.

Stop that. Never mind how good he looks. He’s still a ball-and-chain around my ankle. A ball-and-chain that had so far not responded to some of Jordan’s best moves. This man is so straight, you could use him for a ruler. Not that Jordan planned on giving up his attempts. I’ll find the chink in his armor.

Because there had to be one.

Stuart came to a halt in front of a forest of flag poles, from which hung flags from all over the world. “Welcome to the Rockefeller Center.”

Jordan peered into a square below them where there were cafés, a gleaming golden statue, and a fountain where a sheet of water tumbled into a pool. “Oh.”

The building itself was beautiful, but it wasn’t what he’d expected.

Stuart nudged his arm. “You’re looking in the wrong direction. We’re not going down there.” He pointed skyward. “We’re going up there, to the roof. Top of the Rock.”

Jordan craned his neck to see the top of the tall, elegant building before them, and got dizzy. “How high is it?”

“About seventy floors.” Stuart grinned. “How about a three-sixty-degree view of New York City?”

Jordan matched his grin. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Well, we’ve got to get up there first. Be prepared. This could take a while.”

He gave Stuart a puzzled glance. “To go up seventy floors? How slow is the elevator?”

Stuart laughed. “It’s not the elevators that will slow us down—it’s the lines of people waiting to go through the body scanners at security, then the various levels we have to pass through. It can take up to two hours to get to the roof, depending on the number of visitors. Once we get there, however, we can stay as long as we want.”

“Is the view worth it?”

Stuart’s smile made something quiver inside him. “Wait and see. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”

The only thing that disappointed Jordan was the knowledge that he wasn’t free to come and go as he pleased. Stuart was an appendage he couldn’t rid himself of.

But what a sexy appendage.

A sexy, straight appendage. Damn.

Jordan stepped out onto the open-air observation deck, and caught his breath. “Oh my God.” He’d thought the views from levels one and two had been spectacular—this one took his breath away.

All of Manhattan lay before him: the majestic Empire State building; slim towers that rose like needles into the sky; the deep carpet of green that was Central Park; and far off, the tiny mint-green figure that was the Statue of Liberty.

“What do you think?”

Jordan let out a sigh. “It’s amazing. And you were right. It was worth the effort it took to reach it, and I’m not disappointed in the slightest.”

If all Stuart’s proposed excursions were like this one, Jordan would have no complaints whatsoever. But it still rankled to have a babysitter, no matter how attractive he was.

Nothing had changed. Jordan was still set on exploring the city on his own terms.

It was only a matter of choosing the right moment.