instead, and there was silence on the other side of the door. “Quincy? You still there?”
She thought she heard laughter, and he said, “Are you… uh, without clothes, Princess Olivia?”
“It’s not funny, you bastard,” she snapped. “I think I sprained my elbow.”
“Fine, I’m coming in to help you. I will close my eyes, I swear it.”
She wanted to argue with him, but this was getting ridiculous. Her elbow throbbed, and her whole arm had started to tingle in pain. “Fine, but if you look I’m going to rip out your eyes!”
“Threatening the crown prince? That’s not a good way to start your reign,” he jested. There was a rattling at the door, and Olivia heard the lock click. “My eyes are closed, just guide me with your voice. It’d be tragic to step on you.”
“That’s not funny,” she said, and he turned in her direction. He’d already changed into fresh clothes—simple slacks and a tight, white t-shirt—but Olivia took in every inch of him as he moved towards her, eyes shut tight. “You’re close, just be careful. The floor’s still wet.”
“How far away am I?”
“A few feet,” she said and held out her hand as she told him to hold out his towards the floor. “Walk forward a bit more and, hey great, you found me,” she said. “Now help me up.”
“Hard to do when I can’t see.”
She sighed and told him to put his other hand out so she could grab it. “Ready?”
“Ready,” he said and slowly pulled her up. She started to slip again, and his hand slid down to her sprained elbow. She cursed in pain, and he quickly moved his hand to her side, trying to hoist her to her feet without both of them falling again. He managed to get her to her feet, but his hand slipped again and Olivia froze.
Quincy, eyes still closed, frowned as he gave a little squeeze. “That’s not your arm, is it?”
“Nope,” Olivia said quietly as his hand held her boob. “No, it’s not.”
His hand dropped, and he backed away. “I’m so sorry,” he said, holding up his hands. “It was horrible, I promise. Didn’t like it at all.”
“Well, thanks for that. Nice to know I repulse you.”
“What? No, but you’re going to be my stepsister and I just groped you,” he said quickly. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned around. “Am I headed towards the door?”
“Yes, you are,” she said as she tried to forget what that touch felt like. “Go straight… you’re going to—oh, sorry.” She cringed when he ran into it with his face and cursed. “Are you alright?”
“Fine, just fine,” he said as he held his face. “Be careful, and I would put some clothes on if I were you.”
He closed the doors tightly behind him, and Olivia felt her body sag with relief. She took the towel still draped over her wet hair and put it on the floor to wipe up the water as she finally made it to the nightstand, grabbed her brush, and headed back to the bathroom. Her elbow still hurt, but she could move it well enough, though there was a nice-sized bruise forming on it.
As she brushed her hair, she thought of how easy it would’ve been for him to open his eyes, but he hadn’t. Grabbing her boob had been an accident, but she couldn’t even be upset by it. Instead, her mind took off on fifty different fantasies of what could happen with this crown prince Quincy. It was the first time anyone had touched her like that, even by accident, and her sudden longing for a touch again told her just how much trouble she was in. Slowly, her hand stopped its brushing and reached down to hold her boob as he had. Her other hand slithered down her stomach as an intense heat built between her legs.
His face popped into her head, and she froze. That couldn’t happen, not with him. Her hands stopped, and she forced them away from her intimate parts. She could not do anything with the man who was about to become her stepbrother. It would be worse than a scandal. She was pretty sure she’d get kicked out of
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