Plaything at the Royal Wedding: An MFMM Royal Romance

by Lana Hartley

  I don’t know why I feel as if I have to explain myself to these men. It’s not like they’re on bended knee handing out marriage proposals or something.

  For whatever reason, I seek their approval, and I don’t want to disappoint them.

  Then King says something I don’t expect. “Is he bothering you?”

  He points to Brandon in disgust. I glance in that direction and shrug, unsure of how to respond or react. If I say yes, what will happen? World War III? Besides, I’m not sure I want to go down that road.

  “Um…” I falter and shrug.

  On the other hand, I don’t want to defend Brandon either. Do I want to see a full-out brawl happen here?

  No, that won’t be the case. Simon, Dylan, and King are model citizens, with academic achievements and scholarly goals.

  Well, in the bedroom, they can sure get wild, but that’s another story.

  I remind myself to stop winding off the track.

  I want to see the guys fight for me, but I’m afraid of the outcome. I turn to Brandon and plead with my eyes, hoping he’ll take the hint and walk away, going back to wherever the hell he came from in the first place.

  Yeah, right. There is zero chance of that happening. Simon has a better chance of dropping trousers and fucking me right here in the parking lot before Brandon would ever agree to back the fuck off.

  “I should be asking you the very same question!” Brandon calls from behind me. “Who the fuck are these clowns? Do you have bodyguards now or something?”

  Ah, the peanut gallery. We couldn’t be anywhere without them, and, in this case, taking the form of Brandon himself.

  I turn to face him, and the bitter resentment about our fight several days ago goes bubbling to the surface, quenching my thirst and igniting me with confidence to finally stand up to him.

  “Go away, Brandon,” I grit my teeth and snarl.

  “I’m not going anywhere!” he retorts.

  Of course, he’s not going anywhere. How can I be so lucky?

  “Please, Brandon,” I beg. “Don’t make a scene.

  “I just want to talk to you,” he spits.

  “But I don’t want talk to you,” I hiss.

  “I came all this way. What the fuck?” Brandon is growing impatient, but he doesn’t hold a candle to my fraying nerves.

  He persists, using an aggressive voice, opting for a sterner approach. He makes a move to edge closer to me, but the three guys take a step closer around my body protectively, warning Brandon to stay away with their guarded actions.

  I smirk at Brandon, taunting him with my expression. What can he do now? I have three gorgeous bodyguards, apparently, and I don’t even have to pay for their services.

  “Come on, babe,” Brandon dares to take a step even further in my direction.

  “I’m not your babe,” I swat at him.

  “She wants you to leave her alone, so back off.” This time, it’s King who steps forward in my defense.

  So I am right about him. He is the most aggressive type, but to me, it works out perfectly because maybe he can ward off my rat of an ex-boyfriend.

  Brandon scoffs and stares at King while clenching his fists. “What are you gonna do about it, White Little Rich Boy?”

  “Hey!” Dylan gently shoves Brandon and he steps back a few inches.

  “Keep your fucking hands off me!” Brandon shouts.

  I grimace. It’s like a train wreck I can’t look away from. I don’t want to find out what will happen, but I have to see it for myself.

  Brandon shoves Dylan back, then King swoops in to take the argument to the next level.

  “We warned you, little prick.”

  I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know it won’t be a pleasant outcome for Brandon.

  Then I get my answer.

  King swoops in with an iron fist that he aims directly at Brandon. It looks like it’s been itching to punch somebody tonight.

  I don’t want to see anyone get hurt, even Brandon, so I step in before the blow can be inflicted.

  “Stop!” I raise my arms in front of me defensively, halting King’s action.

  Then I turn to Brandon. “Please…just go before somebody gets seriously hurt.”

  Is that too much to fucking ask?

  “Fine,” Brandon pants. “I’ll go…for now.” He glares at King, then Dylan, and lastly, Simon. “This isn’t over,” he points at them.

  “It sure seems that way to me, dude,” Dylan calls out in a patronizing tone as Brandon slinks away into the shadows of the night.

  When I’m absolutely sure that Brandon is gone and out of earshot, I turn to the three guys. I don’t know how to repay them, and I’m forever indebted to them for getting me out of an extremely problematic run in with a hostile ex.

  I smile at them pathetically, because I’m feeling a little sheepish now that things are out in the open.

  “I’m really sorry about all that,” I chuckle guiltily.

  “Don’t worry about it.” King is the first to wave a humble, dismissive hand.

  “No, really,” I press.

  The way I view their noble gesture to protect me is that they must care about me on a deeper level. They must, or else, they would have just walked away and have not gotten involved in my drama.

  Ugh, my drama.

  I am embarrassed, and I hope that, eventually, we can just forget about this unfortunate incident tonight.

  That brings me to my next point, which I have to address no matter how much it distresses me to do so.

  “I’m sorry, guys,” I hang my head.

  “For what? You did nothing wrong. We’re happy to protect you.” King places an affectionate hand on me and strokes my cheek softly, bringing sensational tingles up and down my spine.

  “It’s just…I can’t be romantically involved with any of you right now. You understand, right?” I smile up at them and hope for the best.

  When their only response is to exchange glances with each other, I sigh and continue with my explanation.

  “I hate the way things are turning out. I’m very disillusioned—don’t get me wrong. It just doesn’t seem like the stars are aligning for this to work out. It appears that everything is working against us.”

  “What do you want us to do?” King asks.

  “Nothing,” I shake my head. “You’ve done enough, believe me, and I’ll be forever grateful. My research is too important to me. I’m going home now. I’ll hail a cab or something.”

  I turn around to walk towards the dwindling pedestrian and car traffic on the Manhattan streets. I try not to turn around and look back at the guys, because if I do, I’m afraid that I’ll run back into their strong, welcoming arms.

  King

  “Let’s watch Krista from the street to make sure she actually gets safely into a cab,” I tell the other guys who nod in agreement.

  “Sounds like a good idea to me. Who knows whether that damn freak will come out of the shadows and pounce on her again?” Simon adds.

  “I still can’t believe the fucking douche has the nerve to come up here and confront her,” Dylan offers.

  “Well, either way, thankfully, we were there to swoop in and protect her,” I say as my natural instinct to be aggressive to a potential jerk continues to subside in the aftermath.

  “I really thought you were going to punch that prick.” Dylan laughs.

  “I would have if Krista hadn’t jumped in front of me to stop me,” I confess. “Hell, I still want to punch him in the face.”

  “Maybe you’ll get another chance someday,” Simon teases.

  “There she goes.” Dylan points in the direction of the dark Manhattan street.

  “Okay, should we go back in and get some more work done?” Simon, ever the scholar, asks of the group.

  “Are you fucking kidding me, dude?” I look at him as if he’s crazy.

  “I know it’s late, but I have this wild idea. Hear me out.” Simon shifts his weight, and Dylan and I
know he’s about to go off on a tangent.

  “Fine,” I drone and roll my eyes. “I’d rather just submit than have to hear another one of your explanations,” I tease Simon.

  “Fuck you.” Simon laughs, pretending to take offense.

  As we walk back inside the building, I glance behind my shoulder just to make sure that tool bag ex-boyfriend of Krista’s isn’t going to attack me from behind with a tire iron or something.

  Once the coast is clear, we file back in and return to the research facility.

  “Okay, I guess I can stand for a second wind,” I tell the guys as we switch the lights back on.

  “It’s all in the name of impressing Krista,” Simon reminds me. “Think about it…” he starts, but I cut him off.

  “I already agreed to come back in here, you fucker,” I joke.

  “Let me finish.” Simon ignores me. “If we get ahead on our research for Krista, she’ll be impressed by our efforts and will want us to continue fucking her.”

  “I like those odds,” Dylan mentions and raises an invisible glass.

  “Exactly!” Simon shoots a wave at Dylan.

  “You don’t think she’ll want to fuck us just based on our good looks and charming personalities?” I smile.

  “Maybe for me and Dylan,” Simon toys.

  “You wish,” I retort with a playful scoff.

  As I start to let the words sink into my brain, though, I begin reflecting on whether or not Krista actually cares for us.

  More importantly, do we care for her on a deeper level?

  We don’t know each other very well for starters.

  Here’s what scares me about this situation: I’m Kingston Samuel Griffin. King for short. Obviously, that goes without saying, but I’m going to say it anyway.

  My point is, Kingston Samuel Griffin doesn’t fall for girls. He’s not into the sappy romance love story.

  I am not boyfriend material.

  I’m just going to proclaim that and put it out there for the world to hear.

  In saying that, however—yes, there is a proposal of the word but here—there’s something electric about Krista.

  Maybe it’s her beautiful long dark hair, or her smoky, gorgeous eyes. Perhaps it’s her curves or the way she arches her back and balls her fists when she orgasms.

  It could be a number of things, but I’m fucking hot for her, and there’s no denying it.

  “You know,” I burst out of nowhere after being deep in thought.

  “Yeah?” Dylan and Simon give me a funny look.

  “I can understand where Krista is coming from.”

  Simon clears his throat and crosses his arms, ready to hear my explanation. “Okay…care to elaborate?”

  “Well, yeah,” I start. “I know the scholarship is important to her. We were in her shoes at one point too, you know.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Dylan nods.

  “She’s weary for a good reason. I would be scared too, if I were her,” I offer.

  “Are you thinking like a chick now?” Simon pokes fun at me.

  “No!” I shout, although probably a little too defensively, so I throw in a “Fuck no,” denying his quip.

  “Why the hell do you care so much about her feelings?” Simon asks, but he’s smiling, so I know he’s only kidding.

  “I’m just trying to be a gentleman here,” I tell him.

  “Good for you,” he states sarcastically and laughs with Dylan.

  “Hey, fuck you, guys.” I laugh. “If I try to connect with her on a deeper level, I’ll have the best chemistry with her.”

  “We’ll just see about that,” Dylan says.

  “It’s not a contest,” Simon reminds us.

  “In Krista’s defense, it is against the rules and policy of New York University to be romantically involved with a colleague or a student,” Dylan adds as a point in my favor.

  “I think that point is moot since we’ve had sex with her twice already,” I sigh and lean against the side of the desk.

  “She still flirts with us, so I feel like she’s a fair game,” Simon shrugs.

  “If only there is a way we could ensure that our relationship would never be found out,” Dylan mentions.

  “We can’t forget we would be in deep shit too if that happens,” Simon offers with a cough.

  I point my finger at Dylan, and he stares at me.

  “What did I do?”

  “You are giving me an idea,” I say and stare off distantly into space.

  “Hang on, you are thinking? Is hell freezing over?” Dylan jokes.

  I smirk at him. “Ha, ha, you are such a fucking comedian.”

  I’m getting ready to propose my idea to them, considering it could take flight and spread wings when something ominous happens.

  I open my mouth to speak, and before I get a word out, the lights go out. I instinctively look to the front of the research room to see who’s coming in.

  Maybe it’s the maintenance guy, and he doesn’t see us.

  No one is there.

  I glance at the guys. “What the hell?”

  They appear just as alarmingly perplexed as I am.

  “Do you think someone is out there?” Now Simon’s voice has a hint of fear.

  “Like a ghost?” Dylan’s lips curl into an excitable grin.

  “No, not like a ghost, you fucking idiot,” Simon hits his arm.

  “Ouch! Fuck you, man.” Dylan rubs the affected area.

  “Guys.” I raise a hand. “Stop fighting. Let’s go out into the hallway and see what’s going on.”

  “Says every stupid fucking person in every horror movie ever made,” Dylan laughs.

  “It’s probably just a power outage,” Simon offers.

  “That’s why I want to go check,” I tell them.

  “Knock yourself out.” Dylan gestures to the door.

  “Nobody is coming with me?” I roll my eyes. “You guys are fucking pussies.”

  “We’ll put that on your tombstone.” Simon laughs.

  I shake my head and walk over to the door and peer out. Nobody is there.

  I feel something behind me and turn around. “Shit!” I jump a few feet in the air because the other two guys are behind me. “I thought you weren’t going to check it out?”

  “Curiosity kills the cat every time,” Dylan says.

  “Whatever.” I sigh, and we all cautiously step out of the room.

  My skin prickles because I have a portentous feeling about this. “Well, I guess I’ll get my wish after all,” I joke after a few seconds.

  “What’s that?” Simon asks.

  “Well, look,” I point to our dark research facility. “We can’t exactly work without lights.”

  “That’s weird.” Dylan points down the hall. “Look, the lights are still on that way.”

  Simon and I peer down the hallway, and it gives me chills. “Hmm,” I whisper. “How fucking peculiar.”

  Simon goes back into the room and flicks the lights on and off, but nothing happens. It remains blanketed in darkness.

  “We will just have to report it in the morning,” I offer.

  “It’s late anyway,” Dylan says.

  The power situation is creeping me out, but Krista still lurks in my mind. I know she’s having a hard time being conflicted between her feelings for us and her desire to keep her scholarship for her research studies.

  She’s driven and passionate about her studies, and I respect that about her.

  “Before we leave, I want to propose my idea,” I tell the guys who groan in response.

  “Its about Krista,” I reassure them.

  “Okay, I’m all ears,” Dylan perks up.

  “I knew you would be,” I say. “Anyway, I know how we can pursue her without freaking her out.”

  “Spit it out already,” Simon says impatiently. “I’m done being in the dark for the night.”

  “Maybe she can date all three of us,” I say.

  “How will that work?”
Dylan furrows his brow.

  “Think about it,” I chatter excitedly. “Nobody will ever expect or suspect her to date three guys at once. It’s the perfect plan.” I cackle with a mock evil laugh.

  “You might be onto something,” Simon nods his head.

  “Thank you.” I smile with relief, knowing that I might have him on my side.

  “I don’t know…” Dylan trails off.

  “Otherwise, we have to cut the cord with her, because she’ll be too nervous to talk to us anymore,” I argue, trying to convince him.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Simon offers.

  “Thanks, man,” I say and beam at him. “I’m just looking out for the greater good of the group.”

  “I think you’re forgetting one thing,” Dylan says.

  “What?” I shrug.

  “We still have to propose the idea to Krista. Ultimately, we have to allow her to make the final decision.”

  “Absolutely,” I agree and nod my head. “It will be totally her call.”

  As we leave the university that night, I can’t help but feel nervous butterflies in my stomach, hoping that Krista will embrace our idea.

  I can’t imagine not seeing her every day, even after such a little amount of time knowing her.

  Krista

  “So, are you really saying we can’t research today?”

  I’m trying not to fucking panic, but as I look into the guys’ eyes, I know they sure as hell are not bluffing.

  At all.

  Nope, they are dead fucking serious.

  Well, this is just fucking perfection.

  What the hell am I supposed to do now? I can’t afford to get behind on my research. Because if I do, then the inevitable train wreck begins, and everything collapses.

  I promise I’m not being a drama queen. It’s just…well…maybe I am slightly overreacting. I better calm down before the guys think I’m a total fucking basket case.

  I take some deep breaths to calm the hell down. There’s no sense in panicking and winding up the fraying ball of nerves I already have to deal with internally.

  “How exactly did this happen again?” I ask the guys.

  “Well…” Dylan begins and then shrugs, looking to the guys for obvious search and rescue.

  “We don’t know exactly,” Simon interjects, bouncing on his heels with his hands in his pockets.