Prince Player: A Royal Romance Read online

  Prince Player

  A Royal Romance

  B. B. Hamel

  Copyright © 2017 by B. B. Hamel

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Mailing List

  Prologue: Hazel

  1. Nolan

  2. Hazel

  3. Nolan

  4. Hazel

  5. Nolan

  6. Hazel

  7. Nolan

  8. Hazel

  9. Nolan

  10. Hazel

  11. Nolan

  12. Hazel

  13. Nolan

  14. Hazel

  15. Nolan

  16. Hazel

  17. Nolan

  18. Hazel

  19. Nolan

  20. Hazel

  21. Nolan

  22. Hazel

  23. Nolan

  24. Hazel

  25. Nolan

  26. Hazel

  27. Nolan

  28. Hazel

  29. Hazel

  Intense: A Dark Billionaire Romance

  Prologue: Aria

  1. Ethan

  2. Aria

  3. Ethan

  4. Aria

  5. Ethan

  6. Aria

  7. Ethan

  8. Aria

  9. Ethan

  10. Aria

  11. Ethan

  12. Aria

  13. Ethan

  14. Aria

  15. Ethan

  16. Aria

  17. Ethan

  18. Aria

  19. Ethan

  20. Aria

  21. Ethan

  22. Aria

  23. Ethan

  24. Aria

  25. Ethan

  26. Aria

  27. Ethan

  28. Aria

  Virgin’s Daddy: A Dark Romance

  Prologue: Sadie

  1. Gavin

  2. Sadie

  3. Gavin

  4. Sadie

  5. Gavin

  6. Sadie

  7. Gavin

  8. Sadie

  9. Gavin

  10. Sadie

  11. Gavin

  12. Sadie

  13. Gavin

  14. Sadie

  15. Gavin

  16. Sadie

  17. Gavin

  18. Sadie

  19. Gavin

  20. Sadie

  21. Gavin

  22. Gavin

  23. Sadie

  24. Sadie

  Thank You

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  Prologue: Hazel

  When a royal gives you a command, you have to obey.

  The castle is everything I always dreamed it would be. It’s hard to imagine people could actually build a place like this castle, and although I’m just a lowly cleaner, I feel lucky that I get to walk its halls. I feel fortunate to have this job, even if it’s just until I save up enough money to get back home.

  That is, until I caught the eye of Prince Nolan.

  I don’t know how he even knows who I am. But I can’t say no to him. That’s the first thing they teach you here, no matter what, do as the prince tells you.

  The prince commands me to meet him in his private chambers, and so I go. I have no clue what he’s thinking or what he really wants.

  But he makes it clear when he tells me to get undressed.

  That cocky asshole. Just because he’s a royal, doesn’t mean I’m just going to sleep with him. Sure, he’s handsome as hell, with a delicious smirk that drives me crazy and a rock-hard body that he clearly works on. But I don’t just sleep with someone because they order me to.

  Still, he’s a real prince. And he’s so handsome, and staring at me, and I know what he’s thinking.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispers in my ear. The room is so beautiful, and he’s so handsome, and I don’t know what I’m doing here. “Are you afraid?”

  He grins at me and takes me by the hand. He pulls me toward the bed and gestures at a dress he has draped on the luxurious cloth comforter.

  “Put that on,” he says to me. “I want you to wear it for me. I want you to watch me tear it off your body, bit by bit, until you’re begging me to take it all off.”

  I take a sharp breath. The dress is gorgeous, a black silky cascade of material. I’ve never seen anything like it. Light seems to get lost in its shimmer.

  But I can’t do this. I don’t even know this man. He’s an arrogant bastard if he thinks I’ll actually give in.

  “Go ahead, touch it,” he says softly.

  I take a sharp breath. Does he mean what I think he means?

  He smirks and takes my hand, guiding it downward. My heart beats so fast, I can barely breathe.

  I take the dress in my fingers. It’s silky smooth.

  “Imagine that on your beautiful body,” he says. “Do you want to be my princess?”

  I don’t want it. I need it. I don’t think I’ve ever needed something so badly before.

  His lips graze my neck. “Go ahead,” he says. “Undress for me. Give in to what you want. I can see it written all over your body. You want this so badly, you can barely breathe.”

  I turn toward him, not sure what to do.

  “Give in to me, Princess.” He tips my chin up toward him.

  Arrogant bastard. This prince is a total player.

  And I’m falling for his game.

  1

  Nolan

  “But Nolan,” she says, her voice so whiny that I almost want to throw her out the window, “you promised!”

  I didn’t fucking promise. I never, ever make promises to these girls. It’s always one night and they’re done, and I never say there will be more. And yet so many of them wake up from an evening of pure fucking pleasure and crave more so badly that they try to pretend like I offered them more.

  I never fall for this shit.

  I sigh and toss over her shirt. “Get dressed,” I say.

  She pouts at me. Great lips, decent tits, but nothing I haven’t had before. “Are you serious?”

  “Serious,” I say. “It was fun. But you knew what you were getting into.”

  I can see the expression on her face change in an instant, and I know what’s coming next.

  “You asshole,” she says, tossing the covers aside.

  I sigh. It always goes like this. At first they try and trick me into giving them more, as if I’m some insipid moron. Sometimes they even try to beg. But always, every single time, they get pissed.

  I don’t know how many times I’ve been through this little charade. They call me Prince Player because of all the different women I’ve slept with over the years. I have it down to a fucking science, and I never let a woman leave here without being fully satisfied.

  But they always leave. That’s the rule, and I’m up front with them every single time. I don’t even know this one’s name, I think it’s like Cindy or something. But last night, before I brought her home, I said the same thing I always say: it’s just for tonight, babe, and then you’re gone.

  They always agree at the time. And they always want more.

  She climbs out of bed and doesn’t even bother to hide her body. I should get fucking hard, since she is pretty hot, but my cock doesn
’t even stir. I already tasted what she had to offer, and while she was pretty decent, I don’t need another bite.

  She disappears into the bathroom and I head back into the living room. My apartment is in the middle of Maldin, the biggest city in Polovia. We’re not a big country, but we’re pretty fucking rich. Life is decent in Polovia, especially when you’re the prince.

  I’m not just some spoiled rich dickhead, despite what many people in this country may think. I’ve used my money to invest in my people. I run several charities that help the less fortunate, though I do them all anonymously. It’s easier that way. I don’t need the media attention. I prefer to live my life away from the spotlight, tasting as many women as I want, doing whatever I feel like.

  But lately, things have been… different. It’s hard to say. Normally, I’d try and hustle this girl out, but I don’t even have the energy for that right now. I sit down on my couch and flip on the news. It’ll probably piss her off even more that I’m not even paying any attention to her, but that’s fine with me.

  I’ve been searching for something lately, something to give me purpose. I haven’t found it yet. I thought the charities would help, and they have, but they’re not enough. I need more. At first, I tried to drown that feeling in pussy, but even that can’t work forever.

  I sit back and watch as the news scrolls past. It’s the same old shit about the economy, entitlement programs, that sort of garbage. People are general pretty awful to each other when money’s involved. Sometimes I feel like people are willing to let a human die if it means they can pay a little less in taxes, which is depressing as fuck. When I’m king, I want to make sure people take care of each other. That’s going to be my first priority.

  “And now to some royal news,” the anchorwoman says. “Right now, these are unsubstantiated rumors. However, our sources indicate that King Jackson Leitner will name his heir.”

  This catches my attention. While I am the king’s only son, and therefore I should be the obvious choice for crown prince, he hasn’t actually named me his successor yet. Father and I don’t always see eye-to-eye, to put it mildly. Frankly, he thinks I don’t have what it takes to be king, and I think he’s an old, out of touch asshole. We have our differences, but I’ve always assumed that he’ll choose me in the end.

  But I haven’t heard anything about him naming his successor. Which is pretty bad fucking news.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re really going to pass up on all this?” She gestures at herself. “I’ll suck your dick again if you want.”

  I turn around and Cindy is standing there, her tits still out, her jeans unbuttoned. “Quiet,” I grunt at her and turn back to the TV.

  “It seems as though Julian Eder, the eldest of the Leitner cousins, is the front runner to become the crown prince. This is shocking news, since the country has assumed that Prince Nolan would be official successor. If he is passed up for the crown, this will be a shocking new development. We will be following this story closely.”

  I stare at the television, in total fucking shock. I can’t believe what I just heard. Fucking Julian as the crown prince? He’s a snobbish, stuck up piece of shit. He’d be an awful king.

  And exactly the kind of guy my idiot father would choose. He’s married to a noblewoman, has a bunch of fucking kids, and is about as traditional as it gets. He’d be awful for this country, so of course my father would choose him.

  Still, this would go against hundreds of years of precedent. I don’t even know what to say.

  “Wow. That blows.”

  I turn around and stare. I forgot she was fucking here. “Get the fuck out of here,” I say to her. “Right now.”

  “Fuck you, asshole,” she says, crossing her arms. “You’re not even going to be king.”

  I stand up. “If you don’t leave now, I’ll throw your half naked ass out onto the street. Understand?”

  She makes a face. “Asshole,” she says, but she goes into the bedroom and gets dressed. I make sure she gets the fuck out before I lock the door behind her.

  Fucking Julian. I grew up with that snotty little shit. He’s a sniveling little politician, a weak piece of shit. He doesn’t know the first thing about being a strong and fair King. I’m so furious, I can barely fucking breathe.

  I’ve been training my whole life for becoming the King. Everything I’ve done since I was a child was with the kingship in mind. I’ve studied Polovian laws, read tracts on being a fair and decent ruler, and studied all the royal histories. I’ve been trained and groomed for this.

  So what if I like to fuck women and live to the fullest? My father may not approve, but I’m still his son. And I will be King.

  I quickly head into my bedroom, pack a bag, and leave for the castle. I need to get to the center of power, and quick, before this shit gets beyond me.

  2

  Hazel

  My knees hurt, my arms are sore, but for the first time in my life, I actually like my job.

  It’s weird. I went to college and got a degree in marketing, and yet here I am working as a maid, and I love it.

  Probably because I’m cleaning one of the most beautiful places in the whole freaking world. The Castle of Polovia is where the royals live, or at least some of them do. They also house a ton of guests all the time. People are pretty much constantly coming and going from the castle, and it’s our job to make sure everything is sparkling and perfect.

  I push my cart down the plush carpet. I’m like a maid in a hotel, except this is the most priceless and gorgeous hotel imaginable. I’m pretty much invisible here, especially since I barely speak the local dialect. I know some German, but Polovian is a little different, so I find it hard to follow sometimes.

  I only got this job because a local girl took pity on me. I was robbed up in Austria, and ran out of money after I got off the train in Polovia, and I was pretty screwed. But I luckily met Britta, and she managed to get me a job at the castle. Her family has been working here for ages apparently. It’s basically the luckiest thing I’ve ever had happen.

  Soon, I’ll be able to afford a flight back home. I could probably reach out to my parents and ask for help, but I want to do this on my own. Besides, I’m not exactly on the best terms with them. My father didn’t approve of my trip overseas, and my mother basically does whatever he tells her to do. I don’t want to go running back to them with my tail between my legs and have to deal with their judgmental comments. I won’t give in to that shit anymore.

  So here I am, a maid in a beautiful castle. I push my cart and pause outside of an open room. Inside, two girls I work with, Marta and Brunhild, are talking to each other in Polovian.

  I can only catch some of it, but there’s one phrase they mention a few times.

  “Who’s the prince?” I ask them.

  The two women stop and stare at me. Brunhild is a tall, stout woman with dark blonde hair. She steps toward me with a frown on her face.

  “The Prince of Polovia, of course,” she says in accented English. “You know of this, yes?”

  “I didn’t know there was a prince,” I admit to them.

  The two women give each other a look.

  “How did you not know this? He is very famous here,” Marta says. She’s stocky and short, maybe in her forties.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, not knowing what else to say.

  “He is very, how do you say, handsome,” Brunhild says.

  Marta giggles like a schoolgirl. “Very handsome,” she says. “Every woman wants him, you know.”

  I stare at these women, pretty surprised. Normally they’re very sullen and serious about their work. I can’t believe they’re acting like giggly school girls right now.

  “He must be something,” I manage to say.

  “Yes, very something,” Brunhild says. “You be careful of him.”

  “Careful?” I ask her.

  Marta gives me a wicked smile. “You’re young. Pretty. Be careful.”

  I don’t know what t
hey mean but they don’t bother explaining. They turn away and go back to chatting in Polovian, ignoring me completely.

  I sigh and turn away. I’m used to being treated like an outsider at this point. Everyone here thinks they’re better than me just because I’m from America, but that’s okay. I’m not here to make a new best friend.

  But their words keep lingering with me as I go about cleaning. I work my way through the guest wing and into the royal section. These rooms are enormous and ornate and always empty. I don’t know where the King and Queen stay, but it isn’t in the royal wing.

  I’m not sure why I should be careful around the Prince. If he’s a royal, I can only imagine that he’s stuffy and very serious. Every other royal I’ve see around here has been very cordial and professional, and maybe even a little cold. They take the royal family very seriously in this country, and they still have a large amount of political power.