Page 10 of Royal Fake


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“Sure.” I squeaked. Avery, get some god damned control of yourself.

“Shall we?” He crooked his arm and offered it to me.

The moment I touched his muscles my mind made a quick U-turn to a place where his thighs were pressed against mine and his manhood was standing at attention ready to invade the Valley O’Vagina. I swallowed down the dryness in my throat and didn’t say anything for fear of saying the wrong thing entirely. We walked quietly to the elevators, which was fine because the bar was so packed and crowded it was hard to have any kind of conversation, however, when we entered the elevator things got a little awkward.

“Are your friends at your hotel room already?” I made a tense conversation.

“Probably, my assistant stayed behind in my hotel room, so anyone on my security list will be let in. Knowing my friends, they’ve already drunk all the good booze.” He chuckled. “They’re a bunch of wankers.”

“So, you are all from Ireland?” I was confused as to how he had so many friends in New York when he made his home overseas.

“Most of them live here now. We’re all from Ireland initially. The Sons of Anarchy we used to call ourselves, but really, it’s much more boring than that, we are the sons of diplomats and dignitaries. Most of us went to Cornell, but a few went to Yale and Harvard. We’d meet up monthly for a pint and bangers.”

“Bangers?” It sounded so nasty… and I was really hoping it wasn’t what I thought it was because if it was rando women they’d take for laughs, the night was pretty much over for me.

I was down for a one-night stand with Liam, though he didn’t know this, but I wouldn’t be comfortable with any kind of sex party at all.

“Sausages, I think you call them here in the states, though they’re really not the same. They’re British but don’t tell anyone we still love them. I had bangers, mash, and black and white pudding served up for tonight if you’re interested. Good stuff all of it.” His smile was so infectious.

“Sure,” The pudding sounded nice, the rest seemed a bit heavy.

When I walked in with Liam his friends were assembled on the deck of his enormous suite with sweeping views of New York City. I tried not to gawk, but sincerely his view was lush and the room astonishing. Knowing the prices the hotel charged for just one night, Liam had to be loaded. The party was already well underway. No one noticed us enter as they were all focused on a man playing an odd pair of bagpipes and another accompanying him on a tin flute. The music was lively and haunting, and I was immediately sucked in.

Chapter 4

Liam

Avery was delightful and very accommodating. While I wanted a night with her to myself, I’d promised my friends a bit of a rager after the event. I’d basically dragged them to a charity event when they wanted to be hanging out listening to music and acting the maggot. We drank, watched the boys play, and ate for a couple of hours as Avery remained responsive but relatively quiet. She got a lot of kudos for the fun evening and evocative runway show. And I received a few jabs and nods of approval from my mates. It was nearly two in the morning when my drunken buddies finally cleared out after several jovially stern warnings. As soon as I closed the door on the very last one, I turned to see Avery looking dazed and exhausted. I didn’t want to let her go but being a gentleman and, more importantly, a royal prince I had to give her the option.

“You look knackered. Do you want me to call you a cab? Or, you’re very welcome to stay here with me.” I took a step closer. “I’d very much like to get to know you better. You can have a shower, there are robes and slippers in the bathroom, and I promise I’ll be a gentleman. There’s even a separate bedroom if you feel you need it. You’re welcome to sleep, or I can order us some more wine. You and I can have a nice sit down on the terrace before we fall to the bed. That is unless there’s someone at home waiting for you.” I so wanted to sleep with her, but the hour was rather late, and I had to know if she was even free to pursue.

“Um, a shower sounds nice.” Her voice was a graveled rasp. “And maybe a nightcap and a snack. Black pudding is definitely not chocolate.” Her sweet face scrunched into a pinched grimace.

“No, it’s blood.” I playfully leered at her like a vampire. “Not to everyone’s taste. I can have some fresh fruit and real pudding brought up if you want it?”

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