Page 5 of Secret Heir

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I swallowed her retort in one last kiss before turning back to the counter. I opened both waters before I realized she still hadn’t moved. I turned to discover the problem and found one hand on her hip, her jaw working back and forth, her gorgeous eyes taking me in.

“Problem, America?” I tipped an eyebrow at her.

“I-I think you just insulted me.”

I laughed at how adorable she looked. “I didn’t insult you. But I’m about to. You look sexy as hell when you’re angry, America.”

“D-don’t—argh—would stop calling me that? I can’t think straight when you’re teasing me.”

“Get used to it, I love teasing you. It’s suddenly become my new favorite pastime.” My lips tipped to one side in a cocky grin.

“Right.” She rolled her beautiful eyes. “Being obnoxious and pushy and—”

“Drop the act.”

“Act?” Her blue eyes flared.

“You love it. You love when I tease you. I can feel the way your body reacts when my hands are on you, the way your body bends into me, presses against mine, the sexy moans that escape your throat when I kiss you. Your body can’t lie to me.”

“You are—argh! Are all Danish people this damn impossible?!”

“Mm. Love that dirty mouth.” I grinned, then turned back to the fridge and pulled a plate of prepared cheeses, meats and fruit that the house staff kept on hand. “Here,” I passed the plate to her, “you seem hangry.”

Her annoyed eyes flicked down to the plate before her stare softened.

“Thanks.” A sweet smile lifted her cheeks. “Vikings and deli meat. Maybe you do know the way to my heart.”

Score. One wall down. As if someone being nice to her, taking care of her was a novel idea. This woman tried to build a fortress around her, but I was making it my personal goal to loosen her up. She was too beautiful and smart to keep people out like she did.

Scratch that. I’d prefer if she kept everyone out.

Everyone but me.

She settled herself on my couch, crossing her curvy legs at the ankles and propping them on my ten-thousand dollar coffee table. All I could think about was darting my head up under that sweater and stroking her to orgasm with my tongue on top of the cool, tempered glass.

I wondered what she’d sound like when I finally made her mine.

We sat on the couch, her small plate of food in her lap as she munched and talked freely about her life in America. She was perfect, from a humble and hardworking background, like a country mouse in the city and I was becoming obsessed with her.

By the time she finished telling me about last Thanksgiving and her Aunt Patty’s apple pie, I couldn’t stop thinking about getting a taste of Pixie’s apple pie. When she was finished eating, she set the plate on the table and then curled up with a fuzzy blanket at my side.

And then we talked about Copenhagen and what it was like to grow up here. Boring was the hallmark of my childhood, I explained. Traditional, formal, and boring. “My family has this thing about being Viking royalty. They’re obnoxious about it, trust me.”

“They sound amazing. I was up all night reading about the Viking village of Rattigut,” Pixie said, “they’ve found these interesting burials of warrior women so I was taking notes and watching documentaries. I’m a hopeless history nerd, there’s no point in teasing me about it. I own it.”

“Mm, all this reading...” I stroked the tip of my finger up the line of her outer thigh. She shuddered, lips parting as her eyelids fell closed a moment. I was getting to her. Everything about her was so in line with me, I could smell how turned on she was, nearly tasting the scent of her on my tongue like an animal. “I can keep you busy in bed and have you burnin’ some of that pent-up energy. I’ll volunteer anytime.”

“So...do you rotate? Tonight me, tomorrow someone else?”

“What? No. Pixie,” I tilted her chin to catch my eyes, “I’ve never brought anyone here. Anyone. I lead a very private life.”

She nodded, eyes scanning my living room. “I don’t have any friends in this entire country. I can’t even properly vet you like a good modern girl should.”

“I’m your friend.” I grazed her temple with my thumb.

“So we’ll be friends who fuck, is that what you’re into ” The way she said the cuss word, so soft on her full lips, made a bolt of excitement crack through my balls.

“I like what you like.” My breath picked up a fraction as my shaft twitched and hardened beneath my suit pants. I leaned closer, catching her full lips with mine and tasting her again.

She kissed me back, slow then with more feverish insistence. She paused a moment and then said, “I didn’t come here for this. I thought, I thought . . .”


Tags: Aria Cole, Mila Crawford Romance