Passenger Princess: A Grumpy Sunshine Bodyguard Pageant Queen Romance (Evergreen Park Book 1)
Passenger Princess: EPILOGUE

It’s been just about a year to the day since I was crowned Miss Americana.

Nine months since Anne went to prison and Regina was forced by the board to step down as head of the Miss Americana pageant, and six months since I started Pretty Strong, the organization I created to travel across the country (world domination imminent, of course), host pop-ups, and teach women basic self-defense.

It’s been a crazy year, to say the least.

And now I’m sitting in front of a vanity doing my hair and makeup for my last official task as Miss Americana: announcing this year’s winner.

The organization offered to have me get ready with all of the contestants, but considering what happened last time, I opted to get ready in a separate green room on site.

I’m pinning the crown into place before I add finishing touches to my hair when Jaime walks in, a garment bag draped over his arm.

‘Ahh! She’s here!’ I say, running over to grab the bag from his hands and unzipping it to reveal the pale pink rhinestones and sequins all over the bodice. Harper absolutely hit this one out of the park, and I cannot wait to put her on.

Gently, I place the dress on the small couch in my office-slash-get-ready room before moving to my tiptoes to place a kiss on the underside of Jaime’s jaw. Then I head back to my vanity before picking up my blush brush.

A moment later, Jaime’s lower half is reflected in the mirror behind me. “What’s under that robe?”

“What?”

“What’s under your robe, Ava?”

I stare at him in the mirror, trying to understand what he’s saying.

“A bra and panties,” I say.

“Stand up.”

I could argue. I could ask what he means.

Instead, I stand, turning toward him, and continuing to do so as his fingers grab the tie on my silky cream-colored robe, the sides falling open, then falling off as one of his hands pushes it off my shoulder until it’s pooling around my feet and he’s taking a step back to take me in.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful.”

“I was going for hot,” I say, my voice low and scraggy, my lips tipping up with a smile.

“Yeah,” he says with a smile before moving closer.

“Jaime, the door⁠—”

“I locked it already. Do you think I’d risk anyone else ever seeing what’s mine like this?”

“You do get possessive.” A growl rumbles through him, and I can’t help but smile. He steps closer, and I put a hand between us, pressing on his chest to keep him from messing up my hard work. ‘Jaime Wilde, no. I just did my makeup!’

‘Funny, because I don’t need to do anything with your face for what I’m planning.

‘What, you’re not going to kiss me?’

He rolls his eyes at me before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. ‘I’ll kiss you properly when you’re done for the night. I won’t mess up your face, baby.’ His fingers move to my back, undoing the clasp of my bra and letting it fall to the floor, one hand moving forward, cupping my breast and rolling the nipple between his fingers.

“Jaime, we don’t⁠—’

‘We have plenty of time. You don’t have to be there until four,’ he whispers into the curve of my neck, my head tipping a bit as he does, his hand with rough calluses running down my back to my hips tugging down my underwear.

‘Four? You told me two!’

‘I wanted time to do this,’ he says.

I open my mouth to argue, but a squeal comes out instead when his hands move to my waist, putting my bare ass on the surface of my vanity. I hear things knock over and roll off, but then Jaime is lowering himself to his knees, pressing kisses to my skin as he does. My neck, my collarbone, between my breasts, right over my belly button, right below…

“What are you doing?” I ask in a whisper, my hands gripping the edges of the vanity as he goes lower, pressing a kiss right above my clit.

One of his hands moves, grabbing my ankle and placing it on the edge of the vanity, my other leg hanging down until I’m wide and bare before him. One of his fingers moves, trailing down my belly, circling my clit but not touching it, then down to my pussy, circling my entrance but never touching where I need him.

‘Jaime,’ I whisper.

“I’ve been calling you princess, but maybe I should have been calling you queen all along. Let me kneel before your majesty.” Then he bends, pressing a kiss to my clit, his eyes looking up at me.

“Oh, god,’ I whisper, mostly to myself, because then Jaime’s tongue is running from my entrance, up until his lips circle my clit. He moves a hand to my hip, holding me down when I try to buck to get more, and he groans against me. His mouth moves down, his tongue moving to my entrance before he starts to fuck me with his tongue, looking up at my body, his eyes locking on mine as he does.

My body sings, pleasure swirling and building in my veins, then his mouth moves back to my clit, sucking hard and grazing it with his teeth as he slides two fingers into me.

‘You feel so good, Jaime,’ I moan, my hand moving to his head and holding him to me as my hips rock a bit, riding his face and his fingers. The wave of pleasure builds as his lips quirk like he has some evil plan.

When I start to come, shouting his name, he stops, sitting back on his heels, stopping the orgasm in its tracks.

‘Jaime—’ I moan, my hips rocking to get something, more, anything. He just smiles, putting a hand to my belly, and slides three fingers into me, crooking them as he fucks me.

It’s a new pleasure that creeps in, all-consuming as it starts in my toes, building up my thighs and down my back like a phantom, unable to grasp it.

‘Come on, Ava,’ he groans, getting pleasure from this too. His face is intense as he stares at his fingers in my pussy, lips parted as he pants, watching his fingers move in me, watching me unravel slowly. He’s getting off on this as much as I am, which takes me closer to the edge.

‘Jaime,’ I moan as the hand on my leg moves to my lower belly, pushing and making the pleasure build even more, like a dam ready to collapse. ‘Fuck!’

‘That’s it, baby. I want you to make a mess for me; I want you fucking soaked when I slide in there.’

I shake my head; everything is too much, too intense. ‘I can’t, I’m going to—’ I stutter through trying to tell him that I feel like I’m going to wet myself when he smiles, cutting me off.

‘You’re going to gush for me, baby. Remember that time in the car when you read your book to me?’

My mind goes back as his fingers crook in me as I try to focus and understand when it finally clicks.

The squirting scene.

‘You said you’d never done it. We’re going to change that.’

‘Jaime, it’s too much.’ His fingers leave me, moving to my clit and rubbing there, fast and hard, the pleasure and pressure building and building in my belly as it does. Right as it almost crashes over me, he stops, fingers sliding inside.

‘Jaime, please⁠—’

‘I know. Just trust me.’ His fingers fuck me fast, crooking and pressing something inside of me that has my hips bucking. ‘You’re going to feel so fucking good, Ava. So fucking good.’ Nonsensical words flow from my lips until almost, almost, almost⁠—

He switches back to my clit.

‘Ah!’ I shout, but this time it’s even more intense, the pressure building quicker and faster.

‘That’s it, Princess. Fuck yes.’ A wet sound comes from between my legs, splayed on either side of the vanity, as he kneels before me. His hand presses on my belly, and then as his hand continues to work me, it happens.

A gush of liquid and a deep groan comes from me as I scream his name—the most intense orgasm I’ve ever felt ripping through me. ‘Jaime!’

‘That’s it, Ava. Fuck, just look at you, making such a mess for me.’ His fingers slow, his entire hand rubbing me now, my pussy soaked as I buck with aftershocks. ‘Such a good fucking girl,’ he says as he stands, his hands moving to his belt, undoing it, and lowering his pants just enough to pull his cock out.

“Let me—” I start, moving to the crown on top of my head to undo it. It hasn’t shifted at all, pinned down expertly, but— a hard slap comes to my wet, swollen pussy, and I shout out, then moan as it radiates through me.

“Absolutely not,” he says. “I’ve been thinking of fucking you with this fucking crown on for a year now, Ava. Now I’m going to make my queen come on my cock.‘

I moan loudly at his words, then louder as he slides into me with ease.

‘Perfect,’ he moans when he’s planted deep. ‘You were made to be fucked by me.’

I nod, agreeing because he’s right. You can’t convince me I wasn’t put on this earth to get fucked by Jaime, to have him give me all-consuming pleasure, and to return the favor.

‘Fuck me, Jaime,’ I whisper, and his eyes flare with heat but he does what I ask, sliding out and slamming into me, hitting deep and hard with each thrust. My tit bounces, my body supported on my elbows. One hand shifts, and I hold my breast, tugging on the nipple.

His eyes watch as I pinch almost too hard, moaning and clamping down on him.

‘Youre so fucking tight like this, Ava. Fuck. And all mine.’

‘Yours,’ I moan breathily. ‘I’m yours to fuck, yours to own. Please,’ I murmur, begging him to make me come, to ease the ache in my stomach he’s building higher and higher, adding to with each deep buck of his hips into mine.

My hand moves down from my breast, down my belly, and his eyes burn on me as I do, as I spread my fingers around where he’s filling me, feeling him sliding through them and clamping down as I do. The feeling is too intoxicating, and I’m almost there, almost ready to come with him inside of me when he shifts again. His hands are on my ass, lifting me up and taking two steps back before he sits in the large cushioned chair the hotel provided for my vanity, sitting me in his lap.

‘Oh, fuck,’ I moan louder, feeling him slide somehow deeper now, hitting new sensitive spots deep inside. I shift my hips and shout his name.

I’m so fucking close.

He grabs my hands, placing them on his shoulders. ‘Ride,’ he says, an order in his words as his hands move to my hips.

He doesn’t have to ask me twice. With my shins planted in the cushion of the chair, I move to lift, a low moan leaving my lips as I do.

‘Fuck, you feel good,’ he groans, using his hands to slam me down and grind against me, my hips rocking as his pelvis scrapes against my swollen clit.

‘Oh!’

‘That’s it, Ava. Take what you need from me. Ride my cock.’

His hand moves up to my face, gently resting there, forcing me to look into his eyes. We share a breath, our lips barely touching, as he whispers words of encouragement. My hips buck and pleasure—more all-consuming than it’s ever been—builds in my belly until I close my eyes with a moan.

‘No,’ I say. ‘It’s too much.’

‘No, it’s not. Open your eyes. I want your eyes when my queen comes for me.’ I open them, locking on his hazel eyes, and as I move in a downward glide, I erupt, calling out his name as one of his hands moves to my ass, holding me down as his hips buck up, as he buries deep with a groan of satisfaction, filling me.

I sit in his lap like that, panting, trying to come down from what just transpired, feeling him soften inside of me when his hand moves up to my face, pulling me close and kissing me, his tongue sliding into mine, and it’s so good, I almost forget I have to finish getting ready and he’s probably fucking up my makeup.

‘Jaime!’ I say, pulling back. “I can’t believe you made it through fucking me without fucking up my makeup, but now that we’re all done and then you decide to?!’

He chuckles, his eyes warm and easy as he lifts me off him before standing, towering over me as he does.

His thumb slides along my bottom lip before he says, ‘Go, Princess. Go fix your lipstick, then get dressed so we can go.’

It’s reminiscent of our very first kiss, the way he left the room because, in his own words, if he had stayed another moment, he would have fucked me senseless.

I realize then we’ll always be like this: impulsive and wildly in love and unable to resist each other.

And even though it’s predictable, it’s a predictability I am more than happy to fall into.

A year later

‘Rosie!’ I yell as I enter the small pink bookstore we came to almost two years ago. It’s changed a bit—some new decorations and obviously new releases—but it’s the same for the most part, and that’s strangely comforting.

‘Ava! How are you?’ the brunette asks, coming over to me and pulling me into a hug.

‘I’d be better if you opened up a second location in New Jersey,’ I say when we pull away. ‘That way I don’t have to convince the big guy to drag me all the way to the West Coast just to go shopping.’

It’s not totally true, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t plan a Pretty Strong pop-up in Washington with the intention of stopping by.

Pretty Strong, my business that consists of weekend-long girls’ retreats in different cities where we hang out, have girl talk, do silly crafts, eat good food, and, of course, learn self-defense, has become a raging success.

After my year as Miss Americana was done and once Jaime’s own security firm, Wilde Security, was set up and running smoothly to the point where he was able to schedule in a monthly trip with me to help with lessons, I really leaned into the business, hiring a group of four girls to help me run these events as well as the online presence we have, including weekly training videos.

It’s funny to think that two years ago, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, was joining a pageant just to help my friends, and was slowly coming to terms with the fact that true, all-consuming love might just be in romance books for me.

And here I am: a retired pageant queen business owner dating the prettiest bodyguard on earth. And a cat mom!

Peach trots into the store on her leash like she owns the place, with Jaime trailing behind. He likes to say all the women in his life treat him the same, and seeing him with Peach, I can’t say I disagree.

‘Maybe one day,’ she says wistfully. ‘Until then, you’ll just have to keep making the trek out here to see me.’

‘I’m happy to,’ I say. ‘We should do dinner later.’

A twinkle is in her eyes like she knows something I don’t before she answers. ‘Yeah, maybe. You looking for anything in particular?’

‘Nope, just gonna peruse. See how much the big guy can carry, you know, the norm.’

She lets out a tinkling laugh before nodding, and Jaime and I start to wander. I pick up books here and there and read the blurbs. I put some back and ask Jaime to hold others until I’m stopped at a table with just one book propped up on it.

‘What is this one?’ I ask, approaching a pink book with dark and light stripes on the cover, a big pink bow in a golden frame surrounding the title of the book: Passenger Princess. Little icons dot the edges of the book, and I glance at it, confused because I’ve definitely never seen this book recommended anywhere, but it seems…familiar all the same. Plus, the title is everything.

‘What’s what?’ Jaime asks, Peach on her little harness, trotting behind him.

‘I’ve never seen this book, but this cover is to die for,’ I say, lifting it, then turning it over to look at the back. My body goes tight when I see the name of the female main character, Ava. And the male main character? Jaime.

‘What?’ Jaime asks, barely interested as he leans on a bookshelf, digging his hand into his pocket and keeping an eye on Peach as she rolls around on the floor.

I flip through the book and see that Ava has an orange cat named Peach. ‘Oh my god!’ I shout. ‘Jaime, this is like an unauthorized biography or something. It’s⁠—‘

And then I see it.

Smut.

There is a smutty scene in here about Jaime fingering me in the car.

‘Oh my god,’ I whisper, flipping through the pages, then looking at Jaime. ‘Is this fucking fanfiction about us?’

‘I don’t even know what fanfiction is, Ava.’ I look up at him, unamused.

‘Shut up, yes, you do. I know you’ve been reading that Omegaverse fanfic I sent you.’ A blush creeps over his cheeks. ‘I knew you’d like it!’

He rolls his eyes, tipping his head toward the book still in my hands. ‘Who’s the author?’ he asks. Moving it in my hands, I look, unable to replace the name on the cover. ‘Check the end, there might be an About the author page.’

My brow furrows, and I flip to the back before the world starts to spin.

A photo of Jaime and me standing together in Maine—a photo that I found out was his phone icon for me months later.

About the author:

Jaime Wilde is the bodyguard of a pageant queen and father to Princess Peach.

His goal in life is to convince the love of his life, Ava Bordeaux, to travel the world with him for the rest of his life as his wife. He went so far as to commission an entire fanfiction (he lied: he totally knows what fanfiction is, and yes, he liked that Omegaverse you sent him) and dragged her to Washington, where they had their first date, so he could ask her to spend forever with him.

‘Jaime—’ I whisper in panic, but then when I look up again, he’s not there.

He’s down on the ground.

Down on one knee, a ring in his hand, a nervous smile on his lips.

‘Jaime—’ I whisper, but stop this time because of the lump in my throat.

‘I thought about doing this at the club I met you in, the place I probably fell in love with you, if we’re being honest. Then I thought about the boardwalk in Atlantic City, where you made me sit with you even though I wanted to be as far from you as I could because I knew even then, I was crazy for you. I thought about Maine, where you ran from me, and I realized I’d always chase you, no matter where you went. Then Georgia, where you were so fucking brave, just like you always are. Florida, where you told me to hold your hand and jump in. Missouri, where I kissed you for the first time and then got scared because I didn’t want to stop. Texas, where you yelled at me and I finally gave into what you knew was real all along. Or even Utah, where you got the first kernel of the idea of Pretty Strong. But none of them felt right.’

He smiles up at me wide, his dimple coming out, and my eyes start to water, and I fight not to let them fall.

‘Eventually, I decided on here. Where we had our first date, surrounded by the stories you love to read, ours in your hands.’

‘Jaime,’ I whisper, a single tear escaping to drip down my cheek.

He reaches up to swipe it, leaving his hand there, and the other is still holding the ring I haven’t even looked at yet.

‘You said you love the idea of falling in love. I don’t, Ava. I love being in love with you, and I love the idea of you getting your happily ever after every damn day. I love the idea of spending forever making sure you’re treated like a queen and that you have everything you want in life. That you’ll always have someone at your side cheering you on and watching your ass while you do it.’

‘Because it’s a good ass,’ I whisper.

‘A great ass.’

I smile, then kiss him again, this time slightly longer, before he presses his forehead to mine.

‘So what do you say? Will you marry me?’

‘Of course I will, Jaime. You have a way cooler last name than me.’ He smiles even wider and shakes his head at me. ‘Plus, do you think I could say no after you wrote an entire fanfiction about us? I cannot wait to read this.’

He cringes a bit.

‘I hired someone to write it, which was an experience because explaining us fucking so a relative stranger could write it out for you was weird, but…I hope you like it,’ he whispers.

I shake my head at him, his head shifting along mine as I sigh deeply.

‘Oh my god, you so totally love me,’ I whisper against his lips.

‘Yeah, I really do,’ he agrees.