The Virgin's Playboy Prince Page 6

  “Good. I’ve been quite naughty, you know. Sometimes I can’t help myself, and I touch my clit while thinking of that time you tied me up and buried your face in my cunt.”

  He sucks in a sharp breath and pulls me to him. “That’s it. I can’t wait any longer. Off with your clothes, princess. I have to have you now.”

  We’re on each other, a tangle of limbs and lips, tongues and teeth as we tear each other’s clothing off and join in the closest way two lovers can. In the end, lying together by the fire, we both begin to drift off, basking in the love we made.

  He wraps me in his arms and pulls me closer, his handsome face lighting up my world. “I love you, Gem. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “I love you too. I’m so glad you didn’t let me go.”

  “I promise I never will.”

  Also by Kim Loraine

  Contemporary Romance

  Until the Stars Fade (FREE)

  The Royal Virgins

  The Virgin’s Playboy Prince

  The Virgin’s Royal Guard

  The Virgin’s Forbidden Lord

  The Virgins

  The Virgin’s Fake Fiancé

  Rescuing His Virgin

  His Hollywood Virgin

  The Cocktail Girls

  His Whiskey Sour (A Stand Alone Rock Star Romance)

  The Golden Beach Series

  Restoration

  Renovation

  Foundation

  Resonance

  Redemption

  Resolution

  Devotion

  Remnants

  Paranormal Romance

  The Siren Coven

  Eternal Desire

  Cursed Heart

  The Fallen Angel Trilogy

  Waking the Watcher (FREE)

  Denying the Watcher

  Releasing the Watcher

  Acknowledgments

  I write because I love it, but also because I want to make my readers smile like so many authors have done for me. There are always people I count on for honest feedback and help managing my crazy life. Rachel in particular. Thanks so much for always making time to read my chapters and for your honest feedback. Also, thanks for dealing with my particular brand of anxiety.

  My husband, kids, and family. Thanks for letting me get away to write.

  My writing group. Thanks for keeping me on track.

  Wendy. Thanks for always finding time for me.

  My Loraine Lovers and my Coven! You guys are so fantastic.

  Nicole French for teaching me ALL the things.

  Also, thanks to Emily and the team at Social Butterfly. You guys have been on it from the beginning and I appreciate you!

  Lastly, thank you readers. Without you, there wouldn’t be a place for all these virgins.

  xoxo

  Kim

  Sneak Peek

  The Virgin’s Royal Guard

  Chapter 1

  Waverly

  “He’s so beautiful.” Alina, my baby sister sighs as she watches Kingston Masters, Lord Haverford walk toward the stables with our brother, the king of Corline.

  “Beautiful, and far too old for you. Alina, you’re not even nineteen and he’s nearing thirty.”

  She lets out a frustrated growl. “Age is just a number. One day, Kingston is going to fall in love with me. I’m going to steal him away on a Roman holiday. I’ll be Audrey Hepburn and he can be my Gregory Peck.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “That’s not really how that movie goes.”

  “Just because you don’t want to fall in love, that doesn’t mean I’m going to avoid it.”

  I ignore her dig at my single status. It’s true, I’ve stayed out of reach when it comes to men, but that was because I knew my parents were going to arrange my marriage. That’s what they’d done with Ryder, my brother. He’s just lucky his marriage ended with him falling in love. Now six months after our father’s death, Ryder is king and he and his wife Gemma are expecting their first child.

  “I don’t need love. Look at Mum. She’s destroyed since dad died. I don’t want to be that woman. Weak and reliant on a man to make me happy.”

  “So you’re telling me you’ll really be happy with…him?” She juts her chin toward the man standing in our periphery. The man my parents arranged for me to marry.

  Happy is not part of the plan for me. I’m promised to Tyler Packham, Duke of Longmire. What no one else knows is, Tyler and I are more incompatible than an American plug in a European outlet. It’s not that he’s a bad guy. In fact, I quite like Tyler, he just so happens to have the same taste in guys as me.

  “Happiness comes in many forms. It might not be the fairytale between us, but at least we respect each other.”

  My gaze slides past Tyler and rests on the man standing on the outside of everything. Archer Locke. Royal guard. He’s gorgeous, brave, dangerous, and completely off limits. But it doesn’t hurt to look. And I’ve spent years looking.

  “Well, I suddenly feel like going for a ride. Care to join me?” Alina says, a devilish grin turning up her lips.

  “Alina,” I warn.

  “What? I’m not going to do anything. I just want to accompany my brother and his friend on a ride. Is that so wrong?”

  I roll my eyes. It’s amazing Kingston puts up with her. “You go on. I’m going to stay here and chat with Gemma and Mum. We need to plan her baby shower anyway.”

  Alina gives me an air kiss before bounding down the stairs and toward the stables. Her long blonde tresses bounce with each step and I can practically see the unrequited love rolling off her.

  “She’s got so much energy.” Mum’s voice hits me along with the familiar scent of her rosewater perfume. She hands me a cocktail and we clink glasses.

  “Always has.”

  “And you? Where’s your spark gone, darling?” My mother knows me better than anyone.

  “It’s here…I just…since dad died I can’t quite find it.”

  Reaching up, she brushes the hair behind my ear. “You’ll find it again. I promise.”

  My focus drifts to Tyler. “I don’t know.”

  “I think you need a distraction…a cause.”

  “Like what?”

  She takes a long breath and links our fingers. “It’s your father’s birthday in two weeks. Why don’t we put on a charity ball in honor of him? We can hold an auction and donate the proceeds to a charity of your choice.”

  The thought of honoring him, remembering my dad, giving to a worthy cause lights a fire in me. “That sounds…well, it sounds perfect.”

  “Lovely. You know I can’t resist a good party. I haven’t had one to plan since your brother married Gemma.”

  “What kind of auction should we have?”

  “Well, there’s an abundance of young noble women who haven’t made good matches yet. What if we auction off the men?”

  My jaw drops. “Mother. You can’t.”

  “I don’t mean we should sell them off as husbands.” She laughs. “I mean, we auction off their dances for the evening. Instead of having to share, the winners get to keep their men for the ball. It will give them a chance to get to know each other better as well. I’ve had enough of this stuffy rule-following nonsense.”

  I can’t believe she’s suggesting this. But so much has changed for us since Ryder’s coronation. The royal family has become more approachable, more human to our people. I wonder if she’s right to try to buck tradition. “All right. Let’s do it. Who should we auction?”

  She takes a sip of her cocktail and gestures across the grounds. “We’ve got our pick.”

  “There aren’t enough. There are five unmarried men at court under the age of fifty.”

  “We’ll get your brother to call in some of his friends. They don’t have to be nobility. They just have to be handsome.”

  I don’t know how to handle this new facet of my mother. “No, Ryder has enough on his plate.” I sigh and stare at the stables. “I suppose I could ta
lk to Kingston.”

  Mum’s hand squeezes mine. “Fantastic, darling. I’ll get the plans in place. You just arrange the auction.”

  I take a long drink and place my glass on the balcony rail. Time to go find some men to sell to the highest bidder.

  The Virgin’s Royal Guard

  Sneak Peek

  The Virgin’s Fake Fiance

  Nothing’s better than a hot British guy…especially if he’s just asked you to be his fake fiancé.

  The Virgins Series

  The Virgin’s Fake Fiancé

  Chapter 1

  Charity

  The driver pulls up to the hotel, and, I swear to God, my chest feels like it's going to explode with anxiety. Instead of getting out, I sit in the town car— the scent of stale cigarette smoke and leather seats making me mildly nauseous.

  "Hey, lady. We're here. You can sit there all you want, but you gotta pay for it." My driver's strong New York accent reminds me I'm not in Montana anymore.

  "Sorry," I mutter, rifling through my purse until I find my wallet. I grab a twenty and hand it to him, but he raises an eyebrow.

  "I'm not a taxi driver. It's fifty from the airport."

  Panic lances my chest. Fifty? I should've just taken a taxi. In a rush of anxiety, I start digging around in my bag, searching for more money. I know I have it, but there's nothing in my wallet.

  "Come on, lady." He's annoyed, and I'm rushing.

  "Hold this," I say, handing him my wallet and searching deeper in the handbag. Then I remember my suitcase in the back. I'd tucked an extra hundred in the secret inside pocket because I don't like to have all my cash in one place. "Can you make change? I have more cash in my bag."

  He nods, and I get out of the car, making my way to the trunk to grab my suitcase. But the driver pulls back into traffic faster than I can holler, "Hey! Wait!"

  I run after him, hoping he'll see me and slow down, but it's no use. He's lost in a sea of cars and busses, and it's all I can do to keep from screaming in frustration. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to calm down. I fight back the hot tears burning my eyes. I will not burst into hysterics on the streets of Manhattan.

  It's not the end of the world. I can call the car company. Tell them what happened. Tell them the guy stole my suitcase. Panic rises again, but I push it down. No. It's going to be fine. I'm sure the guy will return my bag. What I need now is a shower to wash away this day.

  The hotel lobby is bright and clean, with high ceilings and marble floors. Swanky is the word my dad would have used. He was a cowboy, through and through, and he never understood why I wanted to be in the city so badly. It's everything I love. The hum of life, people rushing from place to place, tourists exploring with excited expressions, movies and television shows being filmed. There's always something happening here. Montana is peaceful and slow. Perfect for some—not me. But that doesn't mean I get to stay here. I've got a dying farm waiting for me when I get back. Until then, I'm going to enjoy my time in the city.

  "Welcome to The Stanton Hotel," the concierge says as I approach the desk. "Do you have a reservation?"

  I smile, brushing my hair away from my face. I must look like a hot mess after chasing down the car. "I do. Charity Baker."

  He offers me a patronizing smile and starts typing. "I'll need a photo ID and a credit card."

  My hand goes to my purse immediately, digging through the large bag in search of my wallet. "One second, sorry. I just had it in the car."

  I continue searching. Why do I have such an enormous handbag? Anxiety creeps up my spine when I still haven't found the candy pink Kate Spade wallet I'd bought myself three seasons ago as a graduation gift. I plop my bag on the counter, and the concierge frowns. "It's here somewhere." I laugh nervously and remember my utter stupidity in the car. I handed the guy my wallet. I handed him my wallet and as good as asked him to rob me. I'd been so concerned about my suitcase I forgot he had my wallet in his hand.

  He doesn't look sympathetic. "Miss. I can't check you in without identification and a major credit card."

  Oh, God. I think I'm going to cry. This guy doesn't look like the type who cares. Crying won't help my case. "I…the driver stole my wallet and suitcase. I don't…" My stupid voice wobbles with every word.

  "Charlie, what's all this then?" A deep, masculine voice fills my ears, his posh English accent covering me like a warm blanket.

  "Oh, Mr. Harper. Everything's fine. This young lady doesn't have her ID. I was just explaining that we can't—"

  "What's your name, love?" Mr. Harper asks. He turns his gaze on me, deep blue eyes penetrating the last of my resolve. The man is gorgeous. He's probably in his early thirties, tall, built, with a chiseled jaw that would rival Superman.

  "Wow," I whisper before I can stop myself.

  His eyebrows rise, and a smile spreads his kissable mouth. "Pardon?"

  Pulling it together, I clear my throat. "Charity. My name is Charity Baker, and I've had a reservation for months. My driver took my stuff. God, I was such an idiot to be so trusting. He drove off as soon as I got out."

  "I see." He stares at me, that smile still present, but there's heat in his gaze. "Charlie, please check Miss Baker in. I'll cover her until she's able to retrieve her wallet. Charity, do you have the license plate number of the car? The company name?"

  I frown, trying to recall. "Blue Star Town Cars. That was the name on his dashboard. I don't remember the plate number."

  "We'll find their number."

  To my surprise, Charlie nods and starts typing. In moments, he's handing me my plastic key card and telling me he hopes I enjoy my stay. Relief hits me as soon as I turn away from the desk. "Thank you," I say to my rescuer. "That was really nice of you."

  "My pleasure. There are a few perks to owning a hotel. This is one of them."

  "You're the owner?" My shock is clear in my tone.

  He nods. "Lincoln Harper, but you can call me Linc." He puts his hand on the small of my back, and I nearly melt on the spot. "Now, Miss Baker, allow me to escort you to your room."

  "Oh, I'm sure I can find it on my own." I don't know why I'm protesting. This handsome British guy basically rode in like a knight on a white horse and saved me. He's my prince charming. I should welcome every minute I have with him.

  "Ah, but I think I'd like to get to know you a little. Since I'm letting you stay here on faith." He grins as we step into the elevator. "How long will you be staying with us?"

  "A week. I'm here for a reunion tomorrow. But I'm staying longer so I can spend some time in the city without a bunch of stuff to do."

  His eyes burn into mine. "And you came alone?"

  I shrug and look away. "I used to live here. I'm not afraid of the city." Then I think of the car and my missing bag. "But I guess I'm a little out of practice. I lost my wallet and my suitcase in one fell swoop. It's bad enough I'm going to my sorority reunion without a boyfriend, but I'll have to go dressed in yoga pants and a tank top. All I have is a failing farm in Montana that I don't want and a degree I can't use."

  Stop rambling, I tell myself. I'm going to scare British Superman away. His hand rises, and he brushes a stray tear from my cheek. There's tenderness in his gaze.

  "Charity, I think we can help each other. I have a proposition for you."

  The Virgin’s Fake Fiancé

  Sneak Peek

  Rescuing His Virgin

  Keep reading for the first chapter of Clover and Sawyer’s story in Rescuing His Virgin.

  Rescuing His Virgin

  Chapter 1

  Clover

  “You didn’t mention these firefighters would be the hot variety,” I whisper to Kelsey as I watch the five groomsmen walk into the lobby of The Stanton hotel. They’re all broad shoulders, chiseled jaws, and each one looks like trouble.

  “Well, Dave is hot. Why would you assume all of his firefighter buddies wouldn’t be?”

  Her fiancé is gorgeous, clean cut, built, and totally not my type. I like
them rough and a little dangerous. In short, I like a bad boy. “Because that’s the stereotype. I figured Dave was a rare find.”

  She laughs and waves across the aisle at the man in question. He’s smiling at her like she’s his entire world, and honestly, she should be. Kelsey has been through a lot with that man. The injuries, nights spent waiting up to see if he’s coming home after a bad call, and the distance. She’s told me time and again, being with a firefighter can be lonely. They need time to process the things they see and typically, they don’t like to talk about it. I’ve been there, done that with a man who wouldn’t communicate. Never again.

  “Please tell me I’m walking down the aisle with a cousin or brother.”

  Kelsey inspects her manicure a few seconds too long and I instantly know what she’s going to say. “Sawyer is like a brother to Dave. Does that help?”

  “Is he a fire house brother?”

  She frowns. “Yes, but hear me out, Dave said Sawyer is one of the best firefighters he’s ever been on a crew with. He’s a great guy.” I fight back the complaint and watch her glance nervously around the lobby. This is her weekend, not mine. “It’s not like you’re staying in the same room all weekend. You just have to make nice and walk down the aisle. Then…let the chips fall where they may.”

  I sigh and tug at the skirt of my dress to make sure it sits right. “Fine. It’s just a few days together, what’s the worst that could happen, right?”