ROYAL BRIDE (A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (27 page)

There was another sensation I enjoyed, too. Kent wasn’t expecting what I was about to give him. The movie would not be the best part of his night. The wild side in me was waking up. Mr. Carson had awoken it. I was filled with lust, filled with desire. I wanted to make Kent squirt everywhere. I wanted him in my mouth.

The movie began. We enjoyed our popcorn, sharing mutual laughter at the antics of the characters in the film. I gently moved my hand over to feel his crotch. His eyes widened, and he looked around. I did too, just to make sure no one could see us. Only two people were in the theater, and they were fixated on the screen. I put my hand over my lips and slid gently to my knees in front of him, trying not to make any noise or giggle. He looked straight ahead, only stealing a few quick glances. His hand played with my hair, slowly and gently. He knew what I was going to do. Although he was a person who played by the rules, I’d raved to him flirtatiously before about how good I was at giving head, and he was wickedly curious.

I got out the fizzy rocks and sprinkled them gently on my tongue. They foamed pleasantly. I wondered if they really sounded as loud as they did in my head. He looked down and let out a soft breath, squirming in his seat. I undid his belt gently, trying to forget about Mr. Carson. I would lose myself in pleasing Kent. I wanted to.

His cock was a bit stiff; he wasn’t so innocent after all. I looked at him as I took him into my mouth, swirling fizzing rocks around his head, a sensation that must have been unique. He let out a low, quiet moan, covering his mouth and chuckling into his hand. I continued as his cock swelled in my mouth. The combination of my warm tongue and the fizzing made him grow quickly, so much so that he barely fit in my tiny mouth.

I released his cock, watching it flop up and down. The candy coated it, fizzing. I lapped it up gently, enjoying his reaction. He shifted in his seat, grabbing onto his chair for support. He tried taking a sip of his soda but could barely swallow it as I took him into my throat, my tongue flicking over his balls. He sputtered. Some of the soda landed on his cock. I released him from my throat and gently lapped it up.

No one in the theater was any the wiser. It was so dark, increasing each sensation. The movie blared on loudly in the background, but it couldn’t steal the show from me. I moved my head up and down steadily, the rocks aiding me as they tickled him and fizzed. He leaned over, gripping the seat in front of him for support. His head moved. He was starting to lose his composure. He gripped my shoulder as if to let me know he was about to explode. I moaned quietly, though I didn’t care anymore if anyone could hear me. My pussy was wet with arousal, my juices dripping down my legs. I wanted his cum so bad.

He grunted in pleasure, releasing his hot load into my mouth, angling himself deeper into me. I swallowed the first thing all night I really had wanted. I didn’t question my judgment. I just wanted it. His body quivered as he moved to sit in his chair again. I cleaned off the cum and candy and zipped him up. I climbed quietly back into my seat.
“God...” he said gently, squeezing my hand. “Wow.”

I licked my lips. I had teased him so long that the movie was nearly over. We cuddled in the chair. I drank an extra-long swig of soda. I was thirsty after that neck workout.

Kent and I stood outside the theater after the movie ended. I dreaded the time alone to think about the day.

“Come back to my place with me,” he begged. “I want to hold you tonight.”

It sounded so tempting, but so did my bed. There had been too much emotional bombardment today. Though it would be scary to be alone with my guilt, I craved my own bed, my own world away from the city.

“I’m taking a cab,” I said.

“Okay.” He looked down. “I know you need your alone time.”

I nodded and used my phone to call a cab. It arrived quickly. I was perceptive enough to know he thought that ordering a cab was strange, when I’d usually take the train. But he wouldn’t ask any questions that I couldn’t begin to answer tonight, though. We hugged our goodbyes, and he walked away into the distance. I felt his warmth move away, and I was back in the foreign world I didn’t know.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“Yonkers, please,” I said. I showed him the money.

“This is a prepaid ride,” he said.

Oh no,
I thought,
that sly bastard. This is money he is giving me, not to use for a cab.

The human part of me took over during that car ride, the part of me that reluctantly cherished the luxury of a long cab ride. I enjoyed not having to walk to the train after a long day, with the ever-present chance that strangers would talk to me. It felt so fucking selfishly great, it really did.

That morning, I’d had a bill, a huge tuition bill with some new charge they’d tacked on this year. I was selfishly relieved that the burden was gone, that it could be handled by the money in my pocket.

When I finally got home to my dark house, I collapsed into bed. I clasped my eyes shut and cried. I’d crossed the line, and I couldn’t handle what that meant. Next session would make it right. I would just have to wait until then. And tomorrow, the sun would come up, and it would be a new day. It would all be okay.

Katie

I was nervous about meeting Fiona. Part of me was guilty, and part of me was nervous that I wouldn’t be able to maintain my professional demeanor. I had meditated before getting ready and leaving the house. This time, I would make everything right. I would set great boundaries and follow them. The nightmare of last week, and the lines I’d crossed, would fade away.

I needed the money for school, after all. I could accept generosity, because I needed it and would return it. I chose my clothes more carefully than usual, taking note of the red outfit I had picked—the pitfalls of being so self-aware, the burdens of my training.

I paid no mind to my own childishness and went to work. I waited for what seemed like forever in my office, unable to focus on anything. Finally, a knock sounded at the door.

Billy walked in, arm-in-arm with the woman I recognized as his fiancée. To my immediate delight, she was not as extravagant as she looked on the news. She looked me over, a fake smile plastered on her face. Beneath that smile, though, I could see tiredness. I felt suddenly bad; the counselor part of me checked in; I could genuinely see her angst. This had affected their relationship, and I would put my feelings aside to help. It was my job, my duty.

This mantra faltered a bit in my head when I looked at Billy. His eyes were amazing, as usual. He was sharply dressed in a black suit. He and his fiancée were wearing the same color, which was a clear statement to me. I was crestfallen, a little, but also relieved that I felt this pain. This pain would drive me away from him.

“Hello, Fiona,” I said warmly. “Nice to meet you.” I took her hand gently, carefully, noting her fine manicure. She looked distastefully at my hand—my nails were bland and neat, but that was it.

“Yes. A pleasure,” she answered in an airy voice. She sat down next to Billy, closer than a couple usually would sit at a session.

Certainly she’s not intimidated by me
, I thought.
Someone as rich as her? Nah
.

But it was clear. She was visibly shaken by me. This could happen, sometimes, with male-to-female therapy sessions, but I knew that wasn’t why. She had an instinct, and she was right, unfortunately.

“Mr. Carson has told me all about you,” I said pleasantly, trying to put her at ease and establish boundaries. It worked. She sat up a bit straighter and finally made eye contact. I didn’t see hate in her eyes, just confusion.

“Has he told you I’m a saint for putting up with him?” she joked.

“Something like that,” I responded, trying to build a therapeutic alliance with her. “But he’s also told me that some of his panic attacks are impacting the relationship,” I said, my voice more businesslike. “I’m here to help.”

“Thank God for that,” she said eagerly.

Billy looked put off. He sighed. “You can at least give me credit for trying?”

“I do. I do!” Fiona said, patting his hand.

I could honestly see how he might have an issue with her. There was something plastic about her, and I realized this made her unattractive. On her own, she had great natural beauty. But she tried too hard. She was trying too hard now… trying too hard to look normal. It was obvious that I would have a hard time trusting her as well.

I took a breath and closed my eyes, separating my wants from my gut feeling. My gut was telling me, but I would have to prove it, that she was trying too hard to be with him. She was trying to run away from something with all her clothes and expensive things. Running away from some kind of truth.

I opened my eyes and said, “So. How long have these issues been occurring?”

“Well. We were never perfect before the attack, don’t get me wrong, but after what happened to me—the first few months were unbearable.”

I was surprised he admitted this to me. I met his eyes, and he looked down for several seconds before looking up, unable to disguise his hunger for me. Seeing him want me like that made me wet. I didn’t let him linger on me for too long for fear Fiona would detect the uncomfortable silence.

“What kinds of things happen?” I asked.

“We argue a lot. Partly because I’m so tired. I can’t sleep, ever. He keeps me up,” she whined, not sounding like a grown-ass woman at all. She sounded like a spoiled child who always got her way.

“I honestly feel terribly about it,” he said.

“Have you been taking your medication?” I asked.

“Yes. But it doesn’t help.”

“I’ll refer you to the psychiatrist after the session. He can look over your meds.”

“You mean you can’t?” Fiona asked indignantly.

“No. I am a counselor. Only psychiatrists can prescribe medicine.”

“Oh.” She sounded smug. She’d found her edge. “I thought you were more important than that.”

Billy grumbled and rested his head in his hand. I cleared my throat and rose before asking them a few more generic questions. I was nervous about pushing Billy too hard, and still felt I needed to get to know them more before getting to the harder stuff.

“Okay. Let’s take a short break. You guys are doing great. Meet back here in ten minutes.”

When Fiona turned on her phone, it began buzzing like crazy. Billy didn’t seem to notice. He fished for a cigar and said, “I’m gonna have one of these outside.”

Fiona smiled at Bill—a bit too widely. “It’s cold. I gotta return this phone call anyway.”

They shared a peck. I looked down and tried not to drown in my coffee cup. “I’ll be here when you guys get back.”

Billy gave me one look—was it apologetic? Then he left.

The only thing that made me envy Fiona was how blissfully unaware she was of everything. I could tell she’d grown up rich and would marry into wealth. Nothing was ever enough. But her ignorance was an advantage because I could hear her clearly on the phone in the waiting room. She was so blissfully self-indulgent, she didn’t think about how thin the walls were in this old, distinguished building.

Her voice was flirty. “Hey, babe,” she said, her voice dropping, though I could still hear her.

What did Billy want that he couldn’t tell her in the office? But I realized quickly Billy wasn’t on the other end of that phone call.

“I’m at the shrink. Can you believe it? A shrink. I couldn’t sleep last night again.” She paused and giggled. “Yeah, I wish I could have been there, too. But do you know what else I wish? I wish I had married him before all this started. That way I could get a divorce. I have a chance now, though, to get some of the money when I finally do.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She’d just admitted that she was using him for money, that this was all pretense. Coming here to therapy was an act so she could look understanding and get more money. She didn’t give a damn about him.

The rest of the session was hard for me to sit through because I had the strongest urge to protect Billy and to tell him what I had heard. It was the hardest day of my professional career, sitting in that office with them, watching her pretend that she was faithful to him. As strong as he was, he bought into it. He bought into it because he was weak in love, like most of us were. He cared for her—he cared a lot. I could see that, and I felt terrible for him.

“I don’t think this is going anywhere,” Fiona complained. “With all due respect, Ms…”

“Warren,” I supplied.

“With all due respect, Ms. Warren, we would like to see a more qualified professional together.” I was stone faced, my reaction nil. She was taken aback. “R—right, Billy?”

“We can see a psychiatrist together, but I am happy with my therapy.”

She crossed her arms and pouted.

“It would be unethical for me to remove Mr. Carson from our sessions without his approval, but I do hope to see you again,” I lied.

To make it worse for Billy, for the entire session, I remained cool and professional. Clearly he needed warmth, and I was refusing to provide him solace.

“I’ll see you next week, Doc?” he said playfully when it ended.

“Yes. And please, I am not a doctor. I am a counselor. Your counselor. And we will have our formal session next week.” My tone was icy. My heart broke to treat him so meanly, but I was trying to protect him from the harm that could come from a counselor crossing the line. I didn’t want to cross the line any more than I already had.

Fiona nearly slammed the door in Billy’s face. He looked sadly back at me as he walked out the door. No wonder he was scared of being vulnerable. The moment he allowed himself to be, someone literally slammed the door on him.

So many thoughts and feelings ran through me. I hadn’t felt myself wanting to run this much since I was a teen, a time I should have forgotten, if not for the wild urges it brought out in me sometimes.

After they left, I dialed Kent, who answered promptly, as always. “Hey. What’s up?” He greeted me warmly.