I exit my suite and pad my way down the stairs, heading in the direction of the kitchen. I haven’t been in there since Penny gave me the tour on my first day, with my meals being taken in the small dining room I share with Penny and a few of the other ‘Upper Level Staff’ as they call us, but both Penny and Veronika have made it clear if I ever need anything outside meal times I’m allowed to access it.
It’s not until I cross the threshold of the kitchen doorway that I realize I’m not the only who had the idea for some late night sustenance. King Lukas is standing behind the counter devouring a bowl of oatmeal as he scrolls through a tablet.
All the oxygen seems to sap out of my brain because he’s god damn shirtless. The king of Korova is standing there in the kitchen without a shirt. Without a shirt, people! I silently will myself not to get hard, because there’d be absolutely no hiding that in these sweatpants. But it is a freakin’ challenge. I would gladly write my masters thesis all over again in exchange for the ability to not get hard right now. I take a few deep breaths, my eyes darting every which way but at those seriously lickable abs and those incredible biceps that would have no trouble holding his weight as he…for fuck’s sake, stop thinking about it, Winters!
What the hell is he doing with a body like that, anyway? He’s a king, not an underwear model. It’s completely unnecessary for him to look like that!
Clearly sensing my presence, he glances up at me, and one look of those sea-green eyes is enough for me to lose my battle with my cock. He notices, of course, and I have no option but to play it cool. “It’s morning in the U.S.,” I say with a casual shrug, before remembering to add, “uh…Your Majesty.”
His only response is a raised eyebrow, before he turns his attention back to his tablet. I take the opportunity to scarper to the pantry and scan the shelves for some tea.
“What are you doing here?”
“Just making some tea.” I locate a box of exactly what I’m looking for—chamomile tea—and grab it from the shelf before going in search of a mug and kettle.
“You could have had some sent up to you,” he grumbles.
“I’m perfectly capable of making my own tea.” I decide not to point out he could have had some oatmeal sent up to him. What is the king doing skulking about the kitchen in the middle of the night, anyway?
He merely grunts and returns to concentrating on his tablet. I decide to ignore him as I locate a mug and concentrate on making my tea. I’m sure I’m screwing up some kind of royal protocol, but it’s the middle of the night and the guy’s not wearing a shirt. It’s a miracle I’m even able to carry out this simple task.
4
LUKAS
“I encountered Mr. Winters in the kitchen last night,” I tell Veronika after she’s done running me through my agenda for the day.
“Oh?” One of her perfectly manicured brows arches up in question.
“Should he be roaming about at night like that?”
“He’s not a prisoner, Your Majesty.”
“I know. I’m just not sure I like him living in such close proximity to the children.”
I can tell it takes great effort for Veronika not to roll her eyes. “Your Majesty, Mr. Winters spends every afternoon with the royal children. I assure you, he’s been extremely well-vetted. You have nothing to worry about.”
Only my sanity. I let out a heavy sigh and reluctantly nod my agreement. She gives me her usual bow of respect before striding off to continue with her day.
I know I’m acting completely irrationally. If we were in the old days of an absolute monarchy I’d be able to snap my fingers and the American would be gone. But that’s not how it works now. Veronika is the Crown Secretary and the hiring and firing of staff is in her hands. Of course I’m allowed input, especially when it comes to the children, but I have no reason for requesting the American’s dismissal. The man has done nothing wrong, except unlock a desire I’ve been managing to keep under control for years.
Christ, when I caught sight of that erection tenting his sweatpants last night, all I wanted to do was drop to my knees, tug down his trousers and take him into my mouth. The mere thought of tasting him had my cock thickening to the point I was unable to move from my position in front of the counter lest he notice my problem and learn the truth. I doubt I could have gotten away with the same flimsy excuse he’d used. Morning in America. I manage to bite back a wry chuckle as I recall the ease of his lie. I’m king of an entire country, of course I’m aware of the time zones around the world. It was evening in the U.S. when we encountered each other in the kitchen, which means there was another reason for that erection.
I try not to consider the idea that he could possibly be attracted to me. That’s a dangerous thought that will make it impossible to pack these ridiculous urges back in that sealed-off box where they belong.
I wipe the entire encounter from my mind before I’m left standing here with another problematic situation and no kitchen counter to hide behind.
Making a decision, I turn away from
