Cinderella's Rebellion, page 3
Nothing, nor no one, ever made Hizzhonor, Your Majesty of the Kingdom of IsBn, feel disoriented, like he’d just tripped out on Lewis Carroll while smoking some illegal substance.
Cinderella did.
The queen of the ash heap had a knockout figure in a pink bikini. When she walked, her hips sashayed in a natural grace he knew wasn’t affected. A bod fashioned for sin, not floor-length taffeta ball gowns. A small waist gave way to the flare of nicely rounded hips, and those legs, ah, those long, slender legs, showing just a hint of muscle in the right place, they stretched on forever. Legs made for wrapping around a man’s hips as he… Hmmmm.
The bikini was modest enough, covering all essential parts, but even the generous amount of fabric couldn’t hide the creamy slope of those very generous, white breasts.
Derek’s hands reached out as if to cup them, hold them, stroke them, thumbing the nipples. His lusty imagination kicked into overdrive as he thought of them flowering into hard petals beneath the slow caresses of his circling thumbs.
“Ah, damn,” he swore silently. “Damn, damn, damn!”
His entire body hardened to the firmness of cement. He glanced down at the insistent niggling in his lap. His cock was wagging eagerly in agreement to his thoughts.
Nice bod, it said. Can we come inside and play now?
Whoa. Down boy. Wonderful. He had a hard-on for a fairy tale character. Well, at least he didn’t have a hard-on for a fairy. Derek slapped a towel emblazoned with a colorful replica of the state of Florida over his groin.
He watched with guarded interest as she charmingly fumbled with the bottle of lotion, dropped it.
She bent over to retrieve it. He craned his neck. The triangle of pink fabric stretched, rode up two plump white cheeks, exposing the delicious halves of her bottom.
Never one to embrace self-denial, Derek felt his entire body tighten with raging need. His pulse accelerated like a Nascar entry.
And then Cinderella turned, gave him a shy smile, shook the bottle. “Slippery when wet.”
Oh baby, the wetter the better. Derek smiled, controlling a fierce need to pant like a dog at the image of her, hot, wet and wanting, spread out for him like a feast. His cock waggled again under the towel, reminding him, Hello? I’m still here!
She gave a little, embarrassed laugh. Utterly charming.
Her smile, so sweet, filled with childlike innocence. He saw in her what made the story come to invigorating life in the minds of children.
Cinderella might have a porn star’s body, but her charming smile reminded him of quiet green glades, and the purity of crystalline streams and magical places where one could forget all cares and lose himself in carefree abandon.
His cock waggled again, agreeing about losing himself in carefree abandon. Please? it begged. Please, please?
Derek sat perfectly still, studying the perfect, smooth skin of her white shoulders and back, the thick sweep of long blonde hair now pinned with a pink bow. Heat poured down upon the bare concrete as bubbles percolated in the hot tub. She gave a tiny sigh and leaned back.
Now. Time to make his move…
Derek frowned. She was an innocent, and might shy away if he came on too strong. Derek glanced at the book on his lap. Grabbing it, he casually strolled over to the hot tub and sat on the lip.
He offered a friendly nod, opened the book. And ignored her.
Hot sun stroked his naked shoulders. He smelled her, a scent of coconut lotion, sweet soap, and woman mixed in with the harsh chemicals from the hot tub. Derek turned a page and waited. He read. And read some more.
The knockout guy in the plaid swim trunks liked to read. A good sign. Her knight in shining plaid. Perhaps he was imaginative and playful as well, not plodding and a dull bore, like the others she’d met.
“Hi. I’m Cyn. You’re new around here, aren’t you? Who are you?”
He lifted his black gaze to hers and her breath caught in her throat. For a minute she felt like falling into the fathomless pools of his eyes. His sensual, firm lips lifted in a slow smile that sent her heart racing.
“I’m your prince charming.”
She stared a minute. Then laughed. He kept giving her that slow, sexy smile that set her nerve endings tingling.
“I am, you know. The one you’ve been waiting for all these hundreds of years.”
“That would make me quite old. And you as well,” she shot back teasingly. “What qualifies you to fill the role of my prince charming?”
His eyes twinkled as he held up the tome he’d been eagerly consuming. She gave another light laugh.
“Fairy tales?”
He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Research. I’m trying to act the part. Except I’m afraid I’m not quite skilled at dancing at the ball.”
“How do you know I like to dance?” she challenged him. “Perhaps my likes fall in another direction. Maybe I like eating shellfish and seeing movies. My prince would have to be a very special man who would treat me…”
“Like an equal,” he finished for her.
She stared, dumbstruck at his answer. “Of course.” A little taken aback, she added, “And grant my dearest wish.”
He considered and gave her a crooked grin that thoroughly enchanted her. “I’m very good at granting wishes. Make one now.”
Cyn smiled back at him. “Okay. I wish you’d tell me your name.”
“Derek MacKenzie.” He winked at her. “See? I granted your wish. I have magic powers.”
She laughed. “O great and powerful prince, thou art a man of enormous powers to do so,” she said mockingly. “Then grant me another one, o prince.”
“Consider it done, fair maiden.”
“I wish this was real.”
His smile faded. Instead of the quizzical look she expected, his expression shifted to something almost tender.
“This is real. As real as reality is right now.”
The deep timbre of his voice sent a little shiver down her spine. Cyn felt an odd tingling in her nerves, a powerful, hot wanting, as she studied him. “Are you new around here?”
Derek offered another crooked grin. “Very new. Just moved in.”
“I’m Cyn D’Erella. I live on fifteen. So, you’re my handsome prince come to rescue me?”
“Rescuing fair maidens is my specialty. But only on weekends. During the week I have to watch over the kingdom. So it cuts into my maiden-rescuing time.”
She laughed again. “And on weekends, who watches over your kingdom, o prince?”
“Minions. Very good ones.”
“Minions are good to have around,” she agreed. “Perhaps I can borrow one now and then. Do they clean house when they’re not watching over the kingdom? I loathe housework.”
“Excellent housecleaners. Keep the castle spotless. But I’m afraid they don’t do windows. Absolutely refuse. They have a union.”
“International Brotherhood of Minion Workers?”
“Exactly. IBMW.”
Cyn smiled at him, totally melting at his wicked charm and wit. “Well I must admit, I am waiting for a prince charming. But he must fit all my qualifications. And grant my dearest wish. And I warn you, I have great expectations. My prince must be well-equipped to meet my deepest desires.”
An odd gleam lit his dark eyes. “O fair maiden,” he said in hoarse voice. “You have no idea how very well-equipped I am to grant all your dearest wishes.”
His pure male response to her heightened. Derek hungrily drank in her beauty, those lush breasts, the hidden spark of passion he sensed lay just below that innocent surface.
She stretched, lifting those incredible breasts higher. His cock, which had drooped as he read about an ugly witch crone wanting to chomp on Hansel and Gretel, twitched again.
“I’ve never met a man who admits to reading fairy tales.”
“I like to study ancient stories handed down through the generations. They all have happy endings.”
Those guileless blue eyes sparkled. “Really? I love happy endings.”
He pointed to her abandoned book. Curiosity filled him. Cinderella wasn’t known for her powers in the brain department. He didn’t think she’d read anything but fashion magazines. Or perhaps Chimney Sweep Monthly. “What are you reading?”
Her snow-white hand flicked a few droplets at the book. “Oh, just a book about Nikola Tesla, the man who invented alternating current electricity. He was little known, but a great scientist, as much as Edison was. But Edison opposed him because Edison lobbied for direct current electricity.”
Derek stared, flabbergasted that she read something technical.
“I’m an electrician,” she added. “I own my own business. It’s fascinating stuff. Do you know that without Tesla’s invention, we might all be strictly DC? And now we have choices in the world. AC/DC.”
“I’m not an AC/DC man,” he admitted. “I’m definitely into direct current. I don’t alternate. Ever.”
She frowned. “But you must. What do you plug into at home? Do you have an outlet that takes AC/DC?”
He bristled slightly. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never…examined…my outlet that closely.”
“Well, if you’d like I can take a close look. I’m very good at examining a person’s outlets. As well as their plugs.”
His own plug began to strain against the now tightening plaid swim trunks. Oh yeah baby, it moaned. Plug me in. Now. I’ll give ya current and then some.
To take his mind off his throbbing groin, he asked her about the book. She began an enthused discourse about the wonders of Tesla’s discovery.
Derek studied her, totally fascinated. He thought he’d find her a shallow bimbo with a sweet disposition, but a cardboard character. Instead he found an enchanting creature with a killer bod and an innocent yet intelligent air. A hint of passion smoldered within her burning blue eyes. He felt an unwelcome tug of curiosity to get inside the cinder wench and find out her real story. Who was she?
He listened, impressed as she rattled off technical details about coils, transformers, high-voltage, high-frequency, low-amperage power supplies. Fascinated, he became absorbed in her expert knowledge, asking her questions now and then.
She stopped and blushed. “But I’m blathering. You’re probably not interested in power. What about you? Do you like to read a lot, Derek? Or should I call you Prince Derek?”
He grinned. “Just plain Derek will do. You might say I live for books.”
“Books are wonderful. Magical, even. But I like real life. It’s more fun. And unexpected.”
“Messy,” he observed. “Not very orderly. There are things that happen in real life that you can’t control.”
How very well he knew that…
Cyn found herself liking this very solid, very real man. He possessed self-confidence enough to read a book most men would shy away from. Unlike the other males she’d met, he had a mysterious air about him that intrigued her. And he listened, really listened, when she talked with wild enthusiasm about electricity and power. And unlike most men, he didn’t appear to have the attention span of a grape.
But something about him seemed tightly wound, like coiled wire. He held himself rigidly, as if he feared relaxing.
“Oh, I suppose you’re right about life being messy. But I think it can be fun to lose control.” Cyn lifted her face to the refreshing salt breeze, inhaling the scent of brine. “Like going into the ocean and letting the waves take you, just drifting.”
He flashed her a charming smile. “Drifting out to sea? That’s how people drown, Cyn.”
“Not if you know how to swim,” she pointed out. “Like a bottle tossed into the waves, a message corked up for someone to find. Life is like that. A wonderful mystery to explore.”
“Or a relationship between two strangers,” he agreed. Derek shifted and she couldn’t help but notice the hard muscles rippling beneath his bronzed skin. The same odd tingling zinged through her veins.
What was happening to her? She found herself wanting to know more of him, to explore him.
“A relationship between two strangers. Uncharted waters,” she agreed. “You can go anywhere.”
A shadow crossed his face. “Books are more reliable than people,” he observed. “And less complicated.”
“But there’s so much about life to enjoy.” Playfully, she splashed him with a few droplets. “Sunshine, hot tubs, meeting new people. Life is like a book that hasn’t been read yet. Wouldn’t you agree?”
His gaze seared into her like living fire. She found herself melting a little under his intense scrutiny. “You’re very charming. Do you always have such a cheerful outlook on life?”
Cyn found herself yearning to get closer to this intriguing man. “Of course. Especially now since I’ve met you.”
His brow wrinkled. “Me?”
“The prince of my dreams.”
She gave him a flirtatious smile. He laughed.
“So are you here for the Season? Or are you a permanent resident?” she asked.
“I’m visiting. There’s someone I’m here to see to try to convince her to move back home. She ran away.”
“Oh, really? Does her family miss her terribly?”
“Yes, they do,” Derek said.
“Why did she leave? Was she ill-treated?”
“Perhaps a little,” he admitted. “But not by the people who really cared about her. She was set to marry a very, very wealthy man of great importance who was in love with her.”
“Sounds like a fairy tale.”
“Yes, it does,” he agreed.
“You know, sometimes what appears to be wonderful on the surface isn’t so great after all. It’s really just an illusion that looks nice on paper,” she said slowly, regarding him with those sapphire blue eyes.
Silence draped between them.
Her words jolted him with a ring of truth. Maybe her story was an illusion she needed to flee to find her own identity. Derek felt a distant pang of guilt, remembering another time and place. For a moment, he felt stricken.
“What are you going to do when you find her?” she asked.
“What I must. Bring her back where she belongs.”
She gave a little sniff. Then her voice lowered. He barely heard her over the rush and froth of the bubbling hot tub. “Where you think she belongs.”
Derek’s guilt vanished like smoke. Rebellious wench. She had broken the rules. Ruined the story. The renegade Cinderella would not make him waver in his mission. Books all had their place nicely shelved and catalogued and characters must do as they were written. The end of the story. Period.
She left her cold hearth in search of passion’s fire. He’d show her exactly how dangerous playing with fire could be…
Incinerating. Consuming.
In his arms, she would ignite. And burn until she begged and screamed for him to stop. Or not stop.
Derek focused his smoldering gaze on her.
Oblivious of his intentions, Cinderella turned toward him with a defiant expression.
“I feel sorry for your friend. Maybe she ran away because she wanted to be alone. Maybe she wanted to become her own person instead of what some man expected of her. I bet you think you can catch her, but you can’t,” she challenged.
Derek uncoiled his body and stood, stalking over to her. He hunkered down near her, unsmiling. He was more than six feet of muscled male, overshadowing, but not touching. Intimidating, but not threatening. The predator uncloaking himself to let the prey know.
The hunt had begun.
She had been marked. He could almost taste victory in his salivating mouth. You’re mine, sweetheart.
The confident smile fled her lips.
“Oh you’re quite wrong,” he said softly. “She expressly stated she does not want to be alone. I will catch her. And when I find her, she’s going to pay for being such a naughty girl.”
“What are you going to do with her?” she whispered.
A slow smile filled with promise curved his lips. “Everything she’s asked for. And much more. Much more.”
Chapter Three
The cinder wench gave him a startled look, but mingling with apprehension was something else.
Arousal.
Derek hid a smile of pure male satisfaction. Good. The first goal, the prologue and introduction, accomplished.
Now for the next chapter. Touch. He’d accustom her to his hands. His touch, and his touch alone.
Derek picked up the abandoned bottle of suntan lotion. He envisioned ripping the pink bikini off. Stretching her lovely, pale body out on the deck, caressing her slowly with the lotion, claiming every inch of her creamy skin. Initiating and preparing her for what was to come…the ultimate possession of her body by his…
His cock throbbed violently. Yes, it agreed. Me. Let’s think of me. I have needs, too.
Cinderella swiveled her head around and regarded him with a look of trepidation. Right now she resembled Little Red Riding Hood about to be devoured by the Big Bad Wolf. Another delicious image teased him of exactly where he’d like to devour her.
Derek held up the brown bottle and purred, “You’re turning red. Allow me.”
A tiny frown puckered her perfect, unlined brow. “I don’t think that’s proper. We really don’t know each other.”
Ah, good. Still moral to the story. Excellent.
Derek pushed a little. “But we know each other’s names.” His fingertips caressed the smooth lid of the bottle cap. “And Mr. Coppertone® here is eager to make your acquaintance and soothe your burning shoulders.”
Her blue eyes widened.
“You do want this, don’t you?” he cajoled softly.
She nodded, those huge eyes so innocent of his real meaning. Her mouth, so lush, red and carnal. His for the taking. Later, he promised. Later.
Derek poured a generous amount of lotion into his hands, slid it over one creamy white shoulder.
She quivered.
His hand slid over to check the pulse beating wildly in her neck. Excellent.
The assault began, a slow attack of sensual pleasure as he stroked the lotion into her skin. It felt like stroking the satin pillows on his bed. Sizzling currents shot through his tightened body.
