The Playboy's Princess by Joy Fulcher Page B

reaching her hand back to run her fingers through his hair. Arousal swept through his body, and his hands traveled up her torso to lightly stroke the underside of her bare breasts.
    Jade pushed her hips back against his hardening length, causing him to hiss at the contact. Drew had no idea how she’d gotten into his bedroom, but he wasn’t going to fight it. She seemed to be as into this as he was, and they could just put it down as a bonding exercise.
    “You like that?” She laughed as she wiggled her hips over his cock, causing more friction than he was ready for, and he let out a soft grunt.
    “Shhh, don’t wake the baby,” she whispered as she rolled over to face him, her eyes seeing right into his soul as she sleepily smiled back at him.
    “Baby?” Drew questioned, confused.
    “Margaret…our daughter,” Jade said slowly. “What’s up with you?” Her hands gently cupped his face.
    Drew froze. They had a daughter…named Margaret, after his grandmother? He didn’t remember that, and come to think of it, he didn’t remember Jade coming into bed either, let alone her being naked.
    Drew looked around the room as the soft dawn light filtered through the windows. They weren’t in his parents’ house. From the look of it, they were lying in Gran’s bedroom in the house she’d left him. How had they gotten there?
    He broke out of Jade’s grasp and sat up. Suddenly everything went dark. He blinked a few times and looked around the room again. He was back in his own room at his parents’ house. He turned to look down at the bed, but Jade was nowhere to be seen. The only remnant of her being in the bed was the throbbing erection in his lap.
    He groaned loudly and fell back onto the pillow, swinging his arm over his eyes. The dream was so intense and realistic that he could still slightly smell her in the air. He had to put a stop to dreams like that right away.

    A shrill whistle blew from across the court, and Drew jumped. He was usually comfortable in basketball courts, but that was when he was playing with his friends and the only pressure was to win. Now he had a group of young boys staring him down.
    “Okay, guys, this is Drew. He’s going to be coaching you for the rest of the season. Let’s all give him a huge Tigers welcome!” the teacher called with more enthusiasm than should be legal.
    The boys all stared at their new coach. None of them looked impressed.
    “Uh…hi?” Drew said, feeling like an idiot. He had no idea how to talk to kids.
    “What a dick!” a young blond boy scoffed, and the rest of the group started to laugh.
    Drew noticed one boy in particular who stood back from the others a little. He was tall and looked to be about sixteen years old. His shiny black hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and his clothes were ratty and slightly too big for him—like hand-me-downs. In fact, when Drew looked around, all the boys appeared to be wearing second-hand clothes.
    “Let’s get started,” he said, trying to put as much authority in his voice as he could, and pointed at them. “You, you, and you are on one team, and you, you, and you are on the other. Go!”
    They all stood around for a minute, looking at each other as if deciding whether or not they were going to accept Drew as their coach. He knew he would have to take some action if he was going to lead these boys, so he grabbed the ball, dribbled it up to the hoop and did a slam dunk.
    “Are you ladies coming or what?” he yelled.
    All the boys smiled at each other and raced out onto the court. The teacher nodded and clapped Drew on the back before handing him the whistle and heading back into one of the classrooms.
    The game began, and Drew had to admit those boys could play. He was sure if he was up against them, he would have to play at his best to win. He had to break up two almost-fights, and he blew his whistle more times than he could count for traveling and contact. Those boys played rough, but they were good.
    As