Crown Jewels (Off-Limits Romance #1)

As I settle over him, his hands cover my shoulders. As I lean down, peeling the boxer-briefs away from his incredible crown jewels, his hands play gently through my hair.

I’m stroking his warm, rock-hard shaft when he groans, “Luce—you don’t have to…”

I answer with my mouth around his head. I take him deep into my throat and love each twitch of his hips, each rough sound from his tight throat, the way his hands clench in my hair, and then my name. He says it over and over, moving his hands down to my shoulders, squeezing as I feel his cock grow harder, longer, as I tease his balls and Liam moans like a man undone.

His whole body tightens right before he blows. I know he’ll try to pull out, so I’ve got my hand around his hip; when he comes, I press him down and swallow.

“Goddamn, Lucy.”

I love every quiver of his big, hard body—and the way his hands go lax against my shoulders, like he’s spent.

When I lift my head, I’m surprised to see him laugh. “That was incredible.” His voice is hoarse, sincere; his eyes alight. He shuts his eyes and shakes his head, grinning. “Lucy. I’m trying to be your friend.”

This makes me giggle. “Friends with benefits?”

“Real friends.” He rubs his forehead, looking gradually more troubled. “I don’t want to fuck around the way—”

“You always do?” I smirk, but can’t hold it; my lips curve as I smile—because he’s so damn cute.

Liam nods. He looks so solemn, like he really cares and wants to do things right with me.

I clasp his hand with mine. “We can do better.”

“Can we?” He looks thoughtful. Troubled. Ridiculously handsome.

“First comes friendship.” I wink.

He shakes his head. “What are you doing to me, Lucy?”

I shrug, then hold out my hand. “Helping you up so you can show me around this place a little more?”

He smirks. “I don’t need your help, woman.”

In dramatic caveman form, he swoops me up and throws me over his shoulder. And just like that, all the heaviness is gone between us.





TWENTY-TWO Liam





I can’t keep my hands off her. We’re walking toward the fishing lodge—the one with the giant, covered dock that’s just a couple minutes’ walk from the hot springs on the island’s largest peak—and even now, her hand is locked in mine.

For a few minutes, she was walking just a pace or two in front of me, and I was looking at her ass. Then my eyes moved up her narrow back, then to her shoulders, down her arm and to her hand. I wanted to touch her, so I grabbed it.

Stupid. But she makes me feel so fucking good.

We should find something to drink at the lodge when we get there. Everything with Lucy is so fucking pleasant and relaxing. It makes me want to drink, like scotch would be the cherry on the sundae.

I’ve noticed Lucy never partakes, but she doesn’t seem to mind that I do. Kicking back is more fun when she’s around, because I don’t need alcohol the way I did before she showed up. I don’t feel like I can’t breathe when she’s here. I feel…hopeful.

Unfounded, the logical side of me reminds this dumbass side.

But right then, Lucy stops on our wooded trail and points to a little painted sign. “Hot springs? We can go to hot springs?” She’s grinning like a little fucking kid. I find myself nodding, smiling back at her.

“You want to go there?”

“Hell yes!” Her brow rumples. “Wait—how hot are they?”

“They’re not very hot, actually. A little warmer than lukewarm. Kind of like a bath, but not a hot tub. Maybe they should be called warm springs.”

“No—that’s perfect.” She grins back at me as she drags me up the springs trail. Her eyebrows are wiggling. “Can we get in? We’ll both behave ourselves and just relax and watch the sun go down. Oh my God, is that it up there?” She points to the terrain up above us. “That little vein of water near the top of that mountain?”

I nod. “It winds around the peak and makes a pool.”

“Oh my goodness, that’s amazing! This is seriously paradise.” I see the shadow flit across her features as the words fall from her mouth. As if it might upset me that she’d call the island where I lost my mother paradise.

“It’s beautiful,” she amends, squeezing my hand. “I’m grateful that you brought me here.”

“I don’t come often, but I wanted to bring you.” It’s kind of awkward confessing that, but it’s the truth. I wanted Lucy to see this place.

In the past, if I ever do come here, it’s just for a couple of hours, and I’m by myself. I come here to think of Mum and feel alone. I only do it every other year or so.

Lucy tugs me closer, till we’re walking almost shoulder to shoulder.

“I was wondering at first if this was where you brought all the ladies. I imagine you have girls come and hang out around the castle pretty often.”

I press my lips flat, giving her a poker face—not because it isn’t true, but because it is. Suddenly, I wish it wasn’t.

“Sometimes,” I hedge.

“It’s okay.” Her hand squeezes mine. “I know I called you a manwhore, and I thought of you that way. And I don’t know how you are with them—maybe you are. But I like you, Liam. That’s not all there is to you, and I can see that now that we’re friends.”

It makes me feel so fucking good, the way she says it. Lucy’s fingers stroke my hand, and she leans against my arm as we walk.

“I haven’t had a guy friend in a long time,” she says softly.

Fuck. I want to ask if that’s because of him—that sick fuck, Bryce Parsons—but I’m afraid of upsetting her.

“That surprises me a little,” I say instead.

“Because I’m so much fun?” She gives me a silly grin.

“Yeah. Because you’re fun. And beautiful. You’ve got this whole…this thing going.” She seems so real. “It’s like…you’re honest. I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”

“With you I am. I’m not trying to impress you or seem like I’m somebody I’m not. Probably because of how things started off between us.”

“That night at Dec’s?”

She nods.

I squeeze her hand. “I like it that you’re this way around me.” It makes me feel different, too. Like I don’t have to be anyone specific when I’m with her. “A lot of girls aren’t like that.”

“I’m sure they’re not. Do they all want to be your princess?”

I shrug. “I guess.”

“I’m sure that’s got to get tiring.”

“It does,” I say, and I’m surprised to realize how much. I’ve tried to make it fun these last few years, to live it up, especially after what happened earlier this year, but… “It is tiring.”

Lucy snuggles up against my arm again. “You’re a real boy, Liam, not just a prince. Is that right?” She sounds like she’s teasing, but her face is sympathetic and sincere.

“I’m a man,” I tell her with a smirk.

“You better cut down on sexy comments. I’m trying to keep my chastity in tact, you know.”

“And I thought I was the slut here.”

Her mouth falls open. She punches me in the arm. “I can’t believe what you’re implying. No manners, Prince Liam. None at all.”

I shrug. “Isn’t that your forte? Southern girl.”

“It is. And I have excellent manners.”

“Do you?” I tease.