He shrugs. “It’s true, I did.”
I give a dismissive shake of my head and decide to let the matter go. The children address their other tutor by her first name, I suppose, but that’s different. Penny’s been here since before they were even born. She’s basically part of the family.
I watch the American as he disappears down the hallway, hand clasped with my daughter’s, listening intently to whatever she’s nattering on about. I snap my gaze away when I realize it’s been lingering far too long on his backside. I wasn’t admiring him, and I certainly didn’t notice how nicely his trousers hugged his firm arse. I was merely observing that he seems to be dressing more professionally than when we first met.
That’s all there was to it…
5
JAI
So, the king officially hates me. I’m not sure why exactly; true, there’s been the odd occasion where I’ve failed to bow and address him correctly, and I may have accidentally taught his kids something that could make them targets of the FSB, and, yeah, there was that time I sprung a boner right in front of him.
Okay, so maybe his ill-feeling toward me isn’t entirely unjustified. But it is a little unsettling. I’m an incredibly likeable person. I always win people over the moment I meet them. But King Lukas has proven to be a tough nut to crack.
And, boy, would I love to crack him…
For some reason, every time he scowls or narrows his eyes at me, it makes me want to challenge him even more. I just can’t help it.
“Lukas can definitely be a bit of a grumpy gus,” Penny tells me when I voice my concern over lunch toward the end of my third week at the palace, “but I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I’ve known him since we were eighteen. Trust me, he’s a big softy once you get to know him.”
“Get to know him? He’s the king. I can’t imagine—”
Penny cuts me off with a tinkling laugh. “Don’t worry, you’ll come to see things aren’t quite as…let’s say rigid around here as they might be in some other monarchies, or may have been in the past. King Lukas is quite an involved parent, and you’re one of his children’s tutors, so you’ll inevitably interact on account of the children. And trust me, if anything can put a smile on that man’s face, it’s talk of the prince and princess.”
I nod. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that. He’s much more hands on than I would have expected.”
“Lesia was that way as well,” Penny says, a sad smile touching her face.
I’m immediately hit with a stab of guilt and remorse at the mention of the deceased queen. Here I am lusting over the king and fretting about why he doesn’t like me when his wife only died a year ago. The poor guy’s probably still heartbroken. No wonder he’s so dour all the time…
After I finish up with my lessons for the day and see Katya to her ballet class, I decide to take Penny’s suggestion of using the children as a means of breaking the ice with King Lukas. We reached a milestone in our French lesson today, with both Tomas and Katya being able to run through the entire French alphabet without prompting. I think that’s something worth reporting to the king, so he can congratulate his children on their progress.
When I get to the king’s office I see the desk where his secretary usually sits is empty, but there’s a guard standing sentinel by the door.
“Can I help you, Mr. Winters?” the guard, who I think is named Boyd, asks.
“I need to talk to the king about the children.”
He gives a single nod. “He’s alone right now. You should be fine.”
“Thanks.”
I push the door open and proceed into the king’s private office. It’s not quite as grand as I thought it might be, which is something I find oddly endearing. There’s a wall of bookshelves on one side, but it’s populated by little ornaments and framed photos rather than actual books. Against another wall is a small sofa, and on the far wall opposite the door is a large window that looks over the rear gardens. In the center of the room is a large mahogany desk, which I’m oddly surprised to see has a desktop computer sitting on top of it. I suppose even kings need to be connected to the digital world…
The king in question, however, is nowhere in sight. I’m about to back out of the room and ask Boyd to double check on the king’s whereabouts when my ears prick up as I hear groaning from behind the wall to my left. Weird.
I move closer to better decipher the sound and hear it again—groaning, combined with a few hissed-out curses. I’m pretty sure it’s the king’s voice and it sounds like he’s hurt somehow.
I scan the wall and notice a thin gap, indicating a door. There must be a concealed room behind this wall…
I consider my options for a moment. Should I alert Boyd? Should I go for a medic? Ultimately, I decide it might be best to assess the situation first before getting anyone else involved. I have first aid training so it’s not as though I’m completely useless, and if the situation warrants it I can call for a medic once I know what’s going on.
It takes me all of two seconds after I’ve pushed open the door to realize the king is not even remotely hurt. And about five seconds more to realize I’m so going to be fired.
The secret room turns out to be a bathroom. And King Lukas wasn’t groaning in pain. It’s pleasure… and oh, holy Jesus, does this guy know how to get off.
He’s got a suction cup dildo stuck to the tiled floor and he’s riding it like a sexy-as-fuck bull rider, one arm outstretched to
