Prince Charming

by K. Webster

  A maid?

  I’m so much more than that.

  “For as much as you worry over Winston’s future, I’d say it seems as if you have a vested interest in it.” I give him a bitchy smile. “Are we competing for his love? Because, Nate, I can assure you, there’s nothing I won’t allow that man to do if he asks.”

  Winston may not care about me the way I do about him yet, but I’ll be damned if I let this prick intimidate me.

  Nate misses a step and then stops, scowling at me. “It won’t last. You’re something that has his interest for the time being, but soon he’ll grow bored of you. I’m his best friend. Those don’t go away when the boner does.”

  I open my mouth to toss out something witty, no doubt, but then the vultures swoop in as soon as Nate walks away, rendering me speechless. It’s Scout who pounces, though, while the other two linger like guards protecting their king.

  “Let go,” I hiss, attempting to pull my hand from Scout’s grip.

  “Not a chance, little sis,” Scout growls, his strong fingers biting into my hip. “You’re going to tell me how you pulled this off. The last time I saw you, you looked like shit. We made it that way.”

  I try to yank my hand from his grip, but he only tightens it, violence gleaming in his stare. But, unlike at home when I was at their mercy and alone, I face off with the monster, thankful to have witnesses.

  “I’m resourceful,” I spit out. “You may have robbed me blind, assaulted me, and threatened me, but surely you didn’t think I’d roll over and take it, did you?”

  “Maybe we weren’t clear enough—”

  His words are cut off as his eyes narrow behind me. We’d barely been dancing, but now we’re at a complete stop. As soon as a chill shivers down my spine, I know why.

  Winston.

  Cold and domineering and arrogant.

  His frigid authority warms me to my toes. I crave to fall back against his solid chest, allowing him to hold me in his protective arms. Instead, I suck in a sharp breath and wait out the staring contest between Scout and Winston.

  “Run along, brats,” Winston growls. “The adults need to talk.”

  Scout’s nostrils flare, but he won’t let me go. “Fuck you.”

  Winston steps closer until his chest is pressed against my back. “Do not make me say it again, or I’ll embarrass the shit out of you in front of everyone here.”

  Sully grabs Scout’s shoulder, but he shakes it off, fury rippling from him. He releases his hold on me and steps back.

  “See you later, sis,” Scout bites out, the threatening promise of more a thick, cloying malevolent fog around us.

  The triplets storm off, disappearing into the crowd. Once it’s safe, I turn around to face Winston. The picture from earlier didn’t do his appearance any justice. The man can wear a suit, that’s for damn sure. But a tuxedo? He’s delectable and dangerous all at once. A mix between prince and secret spy. A villain with a hero façade.

  Tonight, in my story, he’s more hero than villain. He chased away the monsters and stares at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on. Sure, he’s scowling because he’s Winston freaking Constantine, but the intensity in his icy blue eyes is a mixture of concern and lust. It takes everything in me not to stand on my toes and press my lips to his.

  “You have hearts in your eyes, Ash,” he says with an arched brow. “Heart eyes mean you want flowery words, and you know those will cost you.”

  I deflate some, reminded of the fact those bastards stole all my money. “I can’t afford them. I can’t afford anything now.”

  The music changes to something familiar. Winston gets the devilish glint in his eyes right before he does something to thoroughly embarrass me. But, rather than feel apprehensive, I find comfort in it.

  I thought my old boyfriend Tate was safe.

  I was never safe with Tate, which was why he was easily run off by the Terror Triplets.

  With Winston, I feel it. His dark unspoken promise shielding me from everyone around us. He’ll want to make my stepbrothers pay for what they did.

  “Dance with me.” He offers me a hand. “Come on.”

  Lifting my chin, I meet his probing stare while not taking his hand. “How much?”

  His eyes narrow, and his nostrils flare as he drops his hand. “It’s my birthday. Shouldn’t it be free?”

  “The sex stuff is free,” I say, tossing his own words back at him. “The rest has a price.” I step closer and pat his chest. “Besides. I already got you a birthday present.”

  At this, he smirks. “What could my little maid have possibly gotten me?”

  “You’ll see. But first, let’s make a deal. Five hundred per song.”

  “A grand if you stumble at least once over your own feet.”

  “I know how to waltz, Win,” I huff. “It’ll be harder to mess up on purpose.”

  “You’ve never waltzed with me, Cinderelliott. Take the deal or don’t.”

  “You’re lucky I need money,” I sass back.

  His villainous smile tosses a match on my brittle heart, setting it on fire. “Indeed. Hurry, Ash, the song’s almost over.”

  “Sweeten it for me, and you have yourself a deal.”

  “Since your poker face sucks, and I know you’re better at dancing than I’m giving you credit for, I’ll pay you two grand per song if you don’t mess up.”

  I stick my hand out to shake on it. His hand envelops mine, offering me his strength. The song changes to “Unchained Melody” by The Righteous Brothers. He doesn’t drop my hand, but instead wastes no time pulling me to him. Because he’s Winston and waiting for me to goof up, I throw myself into the dance, recalling every dance lesson as a child and pre-teen. We effortlessly glide through the crowd, moving this way and that way until we’ve created a wide berth around us filled with smiling partygoers as they watch the birthday boy dance. It’s a little unnerving, but I focus on the extremely successful and wickedly handsome man.

  His stare is intense as he keeps his attention focused solely on me. He spins me out and then brings me back to him, neither of us losing stride. I gasp when he dips me, worried my wig might slip, but then he’s tugging me back upright and all is well with my hair. We waltz around the room with practiced ease. Soon, the song is ending, but he doesn’t let me go.

  “Again?” he asks, his brow arched.

  “Again.”

  His eyes linger at my mouth, and then we’re dancing to something different. Thankfully, several people have joined us on the dance floor, including Keaton and his date.

  “You’ll have to pay me in cash until I can get a new phone sorted,” I tell him. “Mine’s gone.”

  A flash of fury darkens his blue eyes. “Shall I get it back for you, princess?”

  I roll my eyes, fighting a grin. “You’re supposed to capture the princess, villain, not try to defend her honor.”

  “Apologies, Cinderelliott, I have my tales confused.”

  “They took it all, Win.” My bottom lip trembles once. “What they did to my dress . . .” I swallow hard, blinking back my tears. “It was horrible.” Leo Morelli’s terrifying scowl flashes in my mind, making me shudder. I wish I could tell Win there are more monsters in my world than the triplets, but I can’t. I’m too scared, too worried that Win would . . . No, he wouldn’t cast me aside for it. My heart seems to trip over itself at the thought, at the fear.

  He gives me a clipped nod of his head. “It won’t go unpunished. Now isn’t the time. When you dive into a sea of sharks, you mustn’t bleed. Not even a drop, because they’ll sniff it from a mile away.”

  No tears.

  No weakness.

  I lift my chin, forcing a smile. “Did you know Perry has an orange car?”

  At this, Winston laughs. Such a beautiful, rare sound. I could bottle it up and listen to it always. “Is that why Mother was all up in arms?”

  “It’s . . . special.” I grin at him. “He loves it though. Threatened to make
me walk if I didn’t stop making fun of it.”

  His expression grows serious. “Speaking of, I owe you a car.”

  “Winston,” I scoff. “You don’t owe me a car.”

  It’s a bitter reminder of what this is to him. A transaction. A game. Something to pass the time. For him, it’s a way to spend his endless supply of money and find entertainment. For me, it’s becoming so much more. Sometimes, though, when I stare deep enough into his cold blue eyes, I find warmth for me that gives me hope.

  I have to believe we’re more.

  Even if I have to believe it for the both of us.

  “I do owe you a car. I promised you last night.” He stops as the song ends, eyes boring into me. “And you owe me a blowjob.”

  “If you please me at the birthday bash, I’ll reward you with my dick down your pretty throat.”

  “Are you saying I please you?” I taunt, grinning at him.

  His lips twitch. “You’re too poor right now for my praise. I’ve raised the price anyway.”

  “You’re such a dick.”

  “One you want to worship.” He flashes me a wolfish grin. “Come on. I know a place where you’ll get your filthy wish.”

  5

  Winston

  It takes everything in me not to grab Ash’s wrist and drag her through the hundreds of people until I have her alone in some dark corner. Instead, I offer my elbow—because I’m a fucking gentleman—and escort her away from the dancing people toward the kitchen. People continue to stop me and wish me a happy birthday, much to my annoyance. Ash sniggers under her breath each time I let out a curse when another person swoops in on me. Several of them eye Ash with curiosity while a few actually call her by my sister Tinsley’s name.

  What I’m about to do to her, though, isn’t very brotherly.

  We finally make it to the kitchen, and I walk her past the harried waitstaff. A few workers throw us confused looks, but no one argues.

  “Where are we going?” Ash asks as I drag her down a quiet hallway.

  “Someplace private.”

  I open the storage pantry and tug her inside before closing the door behind us. Her hazel eyes burn into me, and she licks her lips.

  “What now?” Her voice is low and husky, serving to get my dick painfully hard.

  “Now you get on your knees like a good little girl.”

  Her sassy eyebrow hikes up, but she starts to obey. I halt her, gripping her blonde locks.

  “Not looking like my fucking sister.” I pull off the wig and toss it onto the shelf beside me. “There. I prefer you a mess anyway.”

  Rather than be insulted, she gives me her famous heart eyes, grinning wide and happily. Girl is twisted as fuck because she enjoys my cruelty just as much as she likes my forced praise.

  “I missed you,” she says, standing on her toes to press a kiss to my lips.

  Gripping both sides of her head, my fingers spearing into her frizzy, pinned hair, I devour her with a claiming kiss—one I’ve been dying to do all night. My sweet Cinderelliott tastes like cherry Starburst and sinful promises. All sweetness melts away as she tugs on my bottom lip with her teeth, her hazel eyes gleaming with wickedness.

  “A grand if you let me shoot it on your face,” I say with a smirk. “Let me paint your pretty eyelashes, beautiful.”

  The girl predictably preens at my words. “Five, and I’ll let you take a picture.”

  “I surely thought you’d be spooked from photographs since our previous ones fell into the wrong hands,” I taunt. “It seems I created a filthy monster who doesn’t care about consequences, though.”

  “You did,” she sasses. “Plus, I really need the money, Win. A girl’s gotta eat.”

  I grip her shoulders and guide her to her knees. The miles of blue fabric from her dress pool around us as though we’re standing in a blue lagoon of tulle. “I’ll feed you.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Spoken like a true man.”

  A laugh snorts out of me. “You won’t be eating my cock, little girl, you’ll be gagging on it. Huge difference. I meant I’ll take care of you.”

  A pregnant pause fills the air, and I realize it sounds a lot more prince-like and charming than I intend. She’s my asset. My toy. Mine. And I need to keep her fed and safe if I want it to stay that way.

  “You know what I mean,” I grumble, unable to keep from stroking a stray hair away from her eyes. “Don’t worry about cars or food or clothes or college. As long as we’re playing our games, you’ll be provided for.”

  She unzips my zipper and searches out my aching dick. Once she has it uncovered from my boxers, she pulls it through the hole. It looks obscene with her in her fancy dress on her knees with my dick bobbing out of the zipper hole in my slacks, the tip glistening with pre-come.

  “I read up on this,” she teases, gripping my fat cock in her small hand.

  “Massive dicks?”

  She laughs and fuck if my chest doesn’t squeeze. “No, dummy. What we are.”

  “Wicked?”

  “I’m your sugar baby.”

  I smirk at her, tightening my grip in her hair. “Stop talking, Ash, and choke on my dick. Sugar baby.”

  Her nostrils flare like she might have more to say, but then I use the tip of my dick to paint my need along her juicy pink lips that fucking sparkle. She flicks her tongue out because she’s greedy to taste me. I caress her head before pushing my dick past her lips, eager to feel her tongue on the underside of my shaft.

  “Ommm,” she murmurs in some strange sound of satisfaction.

  I flex my hips, immediately hitting the back of her throat. She predictably gags and pulls back. My fingers twist into her hair, my only warning, before I press forward again. Her teeth scrape along my sensitive flesh, but the threat of pain isn’t enough to outweigh the need I have to feel the inside of her throat as it constricts around me.

  “Let me in,” I growl, reveling in the choked gagging sound she makes.

  Hazel eyes meet mine as she attempts to relax her throat for me. I like her looking up at me, so I grip her hair and bore my gaze into hers. Without preamble, I thrust my hips, cursing as the tip of my dick slides down the back of her throat. Tears well in her prettily made-up eyes, threatening to fall and ruin all Jac and Gus’s hard work. I piston my hips again, going deeper.

  “That’s it, messy fucking girl,” I croon. “So goddamn good to me.”

  Tears streak down her cheeks, dragging black mascara along with them, only serving to make her that much more beautiful. She gags again, her throat constricting around my dick in a way that has me seeing stars.

  I fuck her face relentlessly, only pulling back enough to allow her to catch a breath every minute or so. Just as my nuts seize up with the need to come, I pull back, tugging on my cock as I find my release. Thick, hot ropes of come paint her forehead and cheeks, some of it dripping from her eyelashes.

  Dirty, dirty girl.

  “Gross, Win,” she grumbles, her nose scrunching up. “I didn’t think this through.”

  It’s moments like these, that for one brief second when she’s looking so fucking adorable, I imagine many, many more times like this for us. That is, until my mind catches up and reminds me she’s my entertainment, not my future. My heart made a bad decision once before, and it nearly cost me my sanity. No matter how perfect she looks with my come all over her pretty face, it isn’t enough to melt decades’ worth of ice on my heart.

  “Greedy, Cinderelliott. You were too desperate for that five grand.” I smirk as I pull my phone from my pocket. “Say cheese.”

  She flips me off and sticks her tongue out, all of which only make me more amused and proud of our filthy pictures. Once I take a few to remember this moment, I put my phone away and pat her on the head.

  “Good girl.”

  I help her to her feet, and she scowls, her cheeks turning a pretty hue of pink. Tugging a handkerchief from my pocket, I set to cleaning the come off her face along with her streaked mascara. Once she�
��s clean and I’ve shoved the soiled cloth into my pocket until I can toss it, I kiss her forehead. Her skinny arms wrap around my middle and she rests her cheek on my chest. My heart is still pounding from the epic blowjob. I wonder if she can feel how my heart thunders for her.

  Fucking chump.

  Your heart is stumbling all over itself because your old ass just blew your load all over a teenager’s face. Legal teenager, but still young as fuck.

  The small sigh of happiness that escapes her has my heart speeding up once more, and it has nothing to do with adrenaline.

  It’s her.

  She’s the drug, the addiction, the pulsing need.

  I’ve never been addicted to anything in my life besides success. This overwhelming craving to consume every part of Ash is almost too much. It makes me feel weak. Like she’s holding my balls in her prissy hand. All it would take is one squeeze to end me.

  I tense, ready to grip her arms and pull her from my body, but her giggle has me taking pause.

  “What?” I grind out as though I’m annoyed, though I’m smiling too.

  “I was just wondering how long I could keep you captive in my arms before you made your great escape.”

  “You’re playing me, little girl?”

  She looks up at me, a brow arched high. “It’s what we do, Win. We play.”

  “What is going on with your sister?” Mother demands, her voice low and only meant for me. “She’s avoiding me.”

  I drain the rest of my champagne glass, setting it down on a nearby table, before glancing at my mother. “Elaine?”

  Mother’s lips purse together, her irritation bleeding through her veneered mask. “Tinsley. What’s gotten into you, for that matter? I swear, every single one of my children is misbehaving tonight, and they all seem to be doing it as a combined effort to displease me.”

  “I assure you, no one is trying to displease you,” I say, smirking at her. “Just let them be. They’re enjoying themselves tonight.”

  “Are you?”

  “Immensely.”

  “I actually believe you, Winston,” she says, suspicion darkening her eyes. “Question is, why? What do you have planned?”