Sinful Crown: A Forbidden Age Gap Romance (Crown Brothers Book 3)
Sinful Crown: Chapter 10

A loud knocking sound has me waking up from the most amazing dream of my life. Mila’s tight little body grinding on me, making me—what the fuck?

I’d been reaching for my dick, about to give it a stroke to the memory of my obsession when I was met with a sticky wetness. Wow. I came in my sleep.

I’m laying there, not really shocked, but more so concerned. I haven’t had a wet dream since I was a teenager, and the fact that I had one with Mila sleeping not one foot away could have been disastrous.

What would I’ve said?

‘Um, yeah. Sorry about that. I was dreaming of you riding me raw. Couldn’t be helped.’ And it couldn’t. Not with Mila moaning, ‘Oh fuck, Daddy.’

Yes. That was definitely the moment that did me in.

Even now, my cock twitches at the memory.

I’m getting lost back in the dream when I hear steps in the galley coming closer with every second that passes. Shit. Hopefully Mila didn’t see me like this.

Making quick work, I remove my shirt and swipe the soft fabric across my abdomen, erasing any trace of my lust for the woman who’s rocked my world like no other.

I’m shoving my shirt under the covers just in the nick of time, only to realize that I’m in my damn boxers. When did that happen? Damn. I know I’m a heavy sleeper, and I usually sleep in the nude, but I thought I had enough of a grip on myself last night.

Apparently, I was wrong.

“Jason? You up?” Her voice tinkles in and I’m glad as hell she didn’t just barge in. But honestly, she probably already saw me in this state. Probably the reason she hightailed it out of the room before me.

“Yes, I’m up. I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay. The boat guy is here. He’s been working on cutting the prop free.”

In two seconds flat, I have my shorts on and the door open. There’s no way I’m leaving Mila alone with another man. I don’t care if I called him myself.

I’m about to have her take me to him when I see she’s wearing nothing but two thin white triangles over what are the most delectable pair of tits I’ve ever seen. And god, how I remember every single curve and pucker of those nipples that have starred one too many times in my dreams.

No, I’ve never seen them in the flesh, but her little teasers on her OnlyFriends account have my spank bank stocked for life.

“Your shirt. Where is it?” My question comes out more like a demand, but I can’t help it. The thought of her being alone with another man while she wears close to nothing has absolved me of all manners and rational thought.

She cocks her head but smiles. “Well, good morning to you too.” She turns to walk away as she answers my question, and her response leaves a pit in my stomach. “I got something on it, so I washed it. It’s drying up top.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue, asking her what she got on it, but I pull back at the last minute. What if I got myself on her?

Instantly, my cock fills. Every inch of it preening like a fucking peacock at the idea of marking her with its seed.

I’m staring at her ass as we exit onto the helm when a clearing of someone’s throat has me looking to my right. There on the aft is the man who’s presumably come to pry us free, an all too knowing look dancing in his eyes as he smirks at me.

I just shrug. Can the man blame me? He has eyes. He can see how irresistible Mila is.

Too bad for him. He can’t have her. No one can. Not even myself. I won’t allow it.

“Mr. Crown. My work is done. I’ve released you from the mooring line and dropped your anchor until you’re ready for departure. As for costs, your account with us has covered everything.” Out of respect, he avoids looking toward Mila, no doubt sensing my territorial nature. Hell, I have an arm draped over her, positioning her body slightly away from his in a clearly possessive posture.

Who the fuck am I, and what caveman snatched my soul?

If you would’ve told me three months ago that I’d be ass over tit for a girl, I’d have told you that you’d lost your mind. And the kicker? I could never act out on it. Not if I had any sense of decency.

“Thank you—” I extend my hand, dropping a tip into his and wait for him to share his name.

“Ramon, but my friends call me Moncho.” He tips his head as he backs up to the dinghy he’d arrived on. “I’m always a call away if you need anything.”

Looking down at Mila, I nod. “Thank you, Moncho. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing you soon. I’m teaching my girl here how to sail, so we’ll be getting a lot of open water time.” Finally looking back at him, I smile. “Next time we’re out this way, we’ll take you to Carolina’s. Our treat.”

“Sounds good, Mr. Crown.”

“Please. My friends call me Jace.”

At that, he smiles. “Jace and Miss Mila, it was my pleasure.”

I’m watching him get onto his boat when Mila speaks, pulling my attention back to her. “So first, were you ever going to tell me you go by Jace? And second, you must be out of your damned mind if you think I’m learning how to sail. I just about killed Acts of Grace. You should be terrified of ever having me behind the wheel. I know I am.”

She’s so fucking adorable. Shaking her head back and forth, the mere thought of her steering sending her into panic mode.

As if on autopilot, my hands go to her hips and I position her so that she’s directly in front of me. “To answer your first question, I hadn’t corrected you because I like the way my birth name sounds coming out of your mouth.” And that’s the absolute truth. I hate it when Catherine does it, but somehow, it coming out of Mila’s mouth sounds perfect. “And as to your second question, haven’t you heard of the term getting back on the saddle? You can’t let one little mishap scare you off from what is arguably one of the most amazing pastimes ever.”

Her eyes are sparkling with the promise of tears—happy or sad, I’m not sure—and her bottom lip quivers. My eyes hone on the supple flesh, and I know I’d love nothing more than to take it into my mouth and suck.

Blinking, I recognize how wrong that thought was. And the way I’m holding her? With my bare abdomen brushing against her exposed softness…Yeah. It’s definitely inappropriate for a stepfather and daughter.

I take a quick step back and drop my hands. “I think it’s time we head back. What do you think? You ready?”

Mila sucks in a sharp breath through her nose and nods. “Mhm.”

My brows drop at her sudden change in demeanor. It’s like she shut down right before my eyes, her arms wrapping around herself and her gaze locked on the ground.

Placing the tips of my fingers under her chin, I lift her gaze back to mine. “Hey, baby girl. If you’re not ready to leave, we don’t have to go. You just let me know what you want.”

Her eyes are searing right into mine, making my heartbeat overtime, the amount of emotion behind them arresting me on the spot.

“We should go. It’s for the best.” Mila answers with a clenched jaw, and I can’t help but feel there’s something else she’s not saying. “I’ll go check on my top and then we can be on our way.”

I nod, watching for anything that will give her secrets away. But as she pulls her shirt from the mast where it’d been drying, I know she’s right. Leaving this behind is for the best.

If only forgetting our shared time together was as easy as heaving anchor and sailing away. No. The memory of her sleeping by me, the smell of her coconut shampoo, and even the way she softly snores. They’re all things that have been engraved into my memory. All of which I’ll pine for until the day I die.

Mila

“When are you coming home?” Mel’s voice is like a blanket of warmth, enveloping me when I’m nothing but a bundle of frayed nerves.

I almost broke down on the way back to the house. Knowing what I’d done, and that Jason would go back to her, it took everything in me to keep it together for as long as I did. So of course, the first person I called was my bestie.

“I don’t know, Mel. But it needs to be sooner rather than later. I don’t know how much longer I can last here.”

“Really? Is your mom being that horrible? I know she gives the Wicked Witch a run for her money, but I thought that since she was with a hottie and probably getting dick on the regular, that she’d lost a little bit of the stick that’s shoved up her ass.”

Groaning into the phone, I plead with all I have left. “Mel. Please. Do not, under any circumstances, reference Catherine’s sex life.”

“Shit, babe. You have it bad, don’t you?”

“No?” My answer comes out more of a question, because even I’m not sure.

“Girl, we’ve been ragging on your momma and her extensive man-whoring since we were practically babies. You not wanting me to reference it now, when it’s clear that the new baby daddy is giving you the taco tingles, speaks volumes.”

I fling myself back onto the bed and whine. “Ugh. Whyyyyyyy, Mel? Why, out of all the men in the world, does my body have to react to his?”

Melissa blows out a long breath. “I wish I had an answer for you, my friend. But when you replace the one, it’s impossible to deny.”

I choke on my saliva and sputter. “Hold up. Nobody said anything about him being the one. He can’t be the only one I ever feel this for, can he?”

Even as I say it, I know it’s the truth. This kind of earth-shaking connection is too much to hope for twice in a lifetime, and my best friend just confirmed it.

“Anything is possible, but I haven’t seen it. You and me, we’re just destined to be old cat ladies. Pining after men we could never have.”

I roll my eyes. “You and I both know that Maverick would fold if you got him alone. The way he stares at you while you dance, that isn’t brotherly love.”

“He isn’t my brother,” Melissa snaps.

“No, but he’s your brother’s best friend. And no matter how hard that man tries to act like he’s just looking out for you, there’s a lust that runs deep in his eyes. I see it every time he comes around.”

“And how did the conversation get turned around to me? I know your aversion tactics when I see them. Don’t think you’ll be able to skirt around this, missy.”

There’s a pause, and I know she’s waiting for me to come forward with my struggle. But as always, asking for help is and will be my downfall.

“Fine, Mila. Just know that I’m here. If you need to vent, hatch an escape plan, or plot stealing that fine specimen of a man from your mother. I’m your girl. Ride or die, bitch.”

“Ride or die.” I chuckle, the lightness of our conversation helping to take off an immense weight off my shoulders. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

“No. But you can show me by leaving me the Civic when you head to Montana.”

“Was already planning on it. Actually, I—”

“Mila, lunch is ready!” Catherine’s voice trails in from the hallway, cutting me off.

“The witch summoning you?” Melissa asks.

“Yup. Gotta go, but I’ll call you soon. You’re my lifeline. Keeping me afloat through this suicide mission.”

“Yeah. You’re a better person than me. I would’ve left her high and dry when she called asking for help.”

“I know, but it’s not really for her. It’s for the peanut.”

Catherine’s shrill scream cuts through, “Mila!”

“Coming!” I answer before sighing into the phone. “Hey, keep your phone on you at all times. Never know when I might need an intervention.”

“Ha! You got this, babe. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Ending the call, I get up from my woeful position on the bed and head toward a family lunch I’m dreading more than a colonic.

Breathe in. Breathe out. I’ve got this. If I can survive a night with Jason Crown and come out relatively unscathed, I can face Catherine Kournikova.