Royal S.O.B. (A Bad Boy Romance)

by Kaitlyn Kevette

  Addie saw it. It was a sealed envelope with the royal emblem. She tore it open.

  My Dear Addie,

  It was with a heavy heart that I went to sleep last night. But sleep evaded me. Your touch was like a million explosions going off inside my heart.

  I need to meet you – urgently. I find the lounge in the Gallery the perfect place for our rendezvous.

  Let me know when.

  Yours, and only yours,

  Kenrick

  A cynical smile appeared on Addie's face. How many times could this man have written a letter like this? She especially loved the sign off – only mine? She crumpled the lovely royal stationery into a neat ball and dispatched it into the ornate bin under her desk. That was where it belonged.

  Then she got down to her business as planned.

  She spent the next four hours with her books – studying, revising, referring to articles on the Web. And Criticism, the subject she hated the most, began to appear friendlier to her. Indeed, all one needed was application.

  Of course, you had to keep your mind open for fresh thoughts and new ideas to enter. With focused engagement, there was no such thing called a difficult subject. Anything and everything in this world could be mastered through an open mind and sustained study.

  Exactly at one o'clock, she broke for lunch. She had six missed calls – four from Kenrick and two from Cate.

  "I knew you would be studying," said Cate as soon as she picked up her call.

  "Yeah, I needed to get on that," said Addie.

  "Lots of rubbish going on lately."

  "You call it rubbish?" Cate teased.

  "You could be finding the love of your life."

  "And I thought you found yours," Addie returned the tease.

  "Who is this 'Pat' anyway?"

  There was silence echoing at the other end.

  "Well?" Addie prodded her.

  "Oh, it's nothing," replied Cate.

  "We happened to be living in the same neighborhood in our early teens."

  "And you happened to date each other back then, too."

  "Ah. Yes."

  "And you happened to be in love back then, as well."

  "Of that, I'm not so sure."

  "So it was a rekindling of forgotten love, was it?" Addie ignored what Cate had said.

  "I wouldn't go to that extent," responded Cate, looking to escape from this topic.

  "By the way, how's your study going?" Addie gave her that escape.

  "Not well at all," replied a relieved Cate.

  "I'm not as strong-willed as you are, as you know."

  "Why don't you come over then?" suggested Addie.

  "It's not combined study, don't worry. You do your thing, I'll do mine. We can even sit at the farthest corners of the room if you prefer."

  "No need," said Cate.

  "I trust you more than myself. I'll be there by five."

  *****

  Post lunch, she was back in the study. But Addie wasn't in luck.

  Afternoons, for her, were the most difficult. She was at her weakest at that time; sleep was more powerful than her. Of course, it also depended on the kind of food she'd had. That day she'd consumed pasta and had kept it light. But, despite all that, she was dozing away at her desk.

  Resigned, she got up and crept on to a lounger and stretched herself. Within minutes, she was asleep.

  She heard a faint knock on the door some time later. Getting up, she saw: Kenrick was standing there.

  Her first reaction was: Why did Mrs. Bradford let him in? Perhaps she could not stop him; he was the prince, after all.

  Without a word, he came up to her, held her by the shoulders, and embraced her. Then he held her face and pressed his powerful lips onto hers.

  At first it was a soft smooch, nothing more. Then it began growing in stature. He pierced his tongue between her lips and forced her mouth open. Then he sent his tongue on a wild expedition inside, exploring each little crevice. And then his tongue got into a slanging match with her tongue, which was blocking further entry.

  Finally, his tongue won. Pushing her tongue – and all resistance – aside, he forged ahead. His tongue seemed so long, like a second cock!

  He thrust harder, in the small opening of her throat, and shoved with all his force. Unable to take it any longer, Addie suffocated; she thought she was choking to death...

  With a shiver, she woke up.

  Chapter Forty

  He waited and waited.

  It was evening, and Kenrick had not stirred out of his chambers the whole day. Pat had something to do in town, went by mid-morning and was yet to return.

  But Kenrick had to wait in his room – for a sealed envelope with handwriting like pearls scattered on the alabaster page.

  It was nightfall. And that sealed envelope never arrived. His consternation was increasing.

  Why had Addie not replied? Was she preparing for her exams? But she would have replied at least, it was the polite thing to do – and Addie was nothing if not polite. Or was something else up – was she not well?

  Should he call her? He had not called her thus far. Now it seemed he had no other option. He whipped out his mobile and speed-dialed her number. It rang and rang… and just kept ringing.

  Was this deliberate? Did she not want him to call her? It was all a series of unknowns for Kenrick.

  Did he make a mistake? This was the first ever time he had initiated a courtship… In fact, this episode was ridden with a series of firsts. God knows he had never courted any woman in his life; he had never felt the need to.

  What was courtship but a tactful approach to bed a woman? Kenrick knew no tact, simply because tact was not necessary for him. When you're used to getting what you want the straight way, why bother with roundabout ways?

  Perhaps he did make a mistake. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that this was the case. He had been too eager, he'd showed his need, and now he was paying the price. This, he'd heard through the grapevine, was the cardinal sin that men committed. If a man was too keen, the woman made him pay for it. It was cat-and-mouse of another kind.

  Looked at it this way, the entire world was playing cat-and-mouse with someone or the other. That was because the world ran on negotiations, and negotiations always involved the question as to who would blink first. That was the first step in any cat-and-mouse game.

  But, being inexperienced in this aspect of the game, Kenrick had played right into her hands. He felt like kicking himself. That bitch!

  How could she do that to him, who was in fact doing a favor to her by placing her in his heart? How many women had been fortunate enough to enjoy that privilege?

  Precisely zero, that is how many.

  Addie was the first. Another record of sorts. And yet, to save his life, Kenrick had no idea why she was consecrated in the temple of his heart. What qualities in her gave her such privilege?

  Granted she was pretty, she was beautiful, she was sexy. But so were hundreds of other women. Okay, they might not all have been royal blood, but whoever said Addie was? She was royal by decree, not by default. That meant she was just a commoner like the rest of them, really.

  And Kenrick had taken true-blue royal women, too. He remembered a distant cousin of his who had come visiting once. Was she not ravishing! Maria… that was her name. Yes – he remembered.

  In many ways, she was like Addie. She knew she had the oomph, and she knew he wanted her. So initially she played hard to get; she took a long time to play ball. Kenrick batted along – he was familiar with the chasing game that preceded the mating game. He was an acknowledged expert at both.

  Kenrick's fame had spread far and wide, thanks to the Internet, social media and the tabloids. So Maria had arrived with no preconceived notions. She was clear that she wanted to be fucked by the prince – and not just for its badge value. The prince was a terrific fuck any which way you looked at it. His cock was one of the biggest. And he was one of the most handsome hunks. Notw
ithstanding all of this, she was aware of her own strengths; she would employ these deftly to win the most coveted cock in the continent.

  Maria was one smart woman. She arrived alone, accompanied with nothing but her two-piece luggage. She followed it up with yet another clever move: She asked for the guest lodging within the manor. She manipulated her way to ensure that her bedroom was adjacent to the prince's chambers, knowing there was a private door between the two. The rest could be imagined by even those not blessed with a fertile imagination.

  Yet, on night one (she stayed but only three nights), the prince had to contend with just a few knocks on the private door. They had met during the day, in the same lounge at the Royal Gallery. Sparks had been flying thick and hot, and both were ready to make love right there on the red Belgian carpet on the Gallery floor. Kenrick pacified his rising cock with the explanation that in the privacy of his chambers, sex would be far more exciting, and expansive.

  It was with the intention of expediting his passion that he had knocked on the private door that connected his chamber with her guest bedroom. And he knocked thrice, as agreed.

  There was no response. He knocked again, and still nothing stirred – except his own cock, in anticipation.

  Anger was rising inside him. Such nerve was unheard of – he was the prince, after all. Women fantasized to be with him, and here he was the one inviting a woman. He decided to try just once more for courtesy's sake before abandoning his pursuit.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  This time, there was a muffled voice coming from within. Kenrick cocked his ears against the door and could make out words forming an incoherent sentence. He wondered if she was drunk.

  "Prince Kenrick! I'm… right here… Are you ready?" Maria's voice seemed like it was coming from faraway.

  "Yes, Maria. Open up."

  "Not yet, Your Highness," she was slurring.

  "You may be ready, but I'm not."

  Kenrick gritted his teeth.

  "Is your cock long and hard?"

  "Yes. Open up, I said."

  "But my pussy is not wet yet. You'll have to just wait, my dear prince…"

  Kenrick banged on the door, forgetting their agreed three-knock routine. By way of response, he only heard laughter. Maria was laughing, most likely at him; at his thirst, at his desperation, at his cock that was now like a piece of iron, red at the tip, but with no avenue to dip itself and pound its way to satiation.

  He banged and banged before finally giving up.

  I'll teach that bitch a lesson, he declared.

  Just wait till the morning.

  Chapter Forty-One

  No, she was not playing hard to get.

  Addie said this to herself for the hundredth time. Quite simply, that was not in her character. Whatever it was, aye or nay, she expressed it upfront. Love it or shove it, that was Addie.

  She knew she had to reply to Kenrick. But she was delaying it to get as much study done as possible. Once back in his vortex, she was bound to be sucked in its spiral, bound to be consumed by its sheer intensity.

  Let me make substantial progress in my preparation, she told herself. Then, and only then, would she indulge herself with a visit to meet the prince. That seemed fair.

  It was more than fair, any which way you looked at it. Which girl her age, with the most handsome man in the country wooing her, would keep her head above water? Which girl, given the option of seducing the prince on the one hand and sitting with textbooks on the other, would assiduously choose textbooks? How many girls on Earth would tell themselves that they should finish their studies first, and only then think of meeting the prince?

  Only one girl: Addie.

  For three straight days, she thought of nothing but her books. To help her focus better, she even cancelled her plan of getting Cate over. It would have only distracted her, she knew, and every minute lost to distraction would be another minute lost to not being with Kenrick. And she was saving up her precious minutes.

  On day four, she knew it was rewards time. As a physical act of taking a break, she pushed her books and laptop aside and took a sheet from the royal stationery. Then she drew out her Mont Blanc. It was time to write a personal note to the prince, her stepbrother.

  Gallery. 3 p.m.

  That was all she needed to convey. She placed the largely white sheet, sprawling out like a virgin, inside the envelope and sealed it. Then she pressed the bell.

  *****

  She took care dressing up – more care than usual, anyway. She chose a translucent top, with just her bra inside, and slid into a tightfitting pair of blue jeans. She felt like treating Kenrick this time.

  After her revulsion that night, she'd eased off, and right now the predominant feeling was one of love. She analyzed this trait of hers – the trait of a yo-yo. At one point she hated him, only to give him a fair chance seconds later. She could not put a finger on why this was happening, why her feelings were swinging like a pendulum in an old grandfather clock.

  Maybe this was what love was all about. Even if you knew that the guy was a born bastard, you gave him a long rope. You loved him, you wanted him, you let go. Your weak heart made you do it, countering your strong mind. And in all battles between the two, it was the heart that won. Always.

  Mrs. Bradford, being away in the afternoons for her routine administrative work, facilitated an easy escape. She left a note for the old lady ("Off to the Royal Gallery, will be back in an hour") and stepped out of her chambers at a quarter-to-three. She then walked leisurely across the green towards the Gallery.

  She knew for a fact that Kenrick would be there. She just knew it. And what was she to expect today?

  Well, if it was an unsolicited touch the one day, she could safely assume that hand of his would go much further today. It would go on a journey, a pilgrimage of holy discovery, to divine parts and heavenly destinations. Perhaps.

  And today, the difference, it would be just him and her. Just two stepsiblings in meeting, she quipped, winking to herself.

  Were they going to show sibling affection, like that television announcer had said on Annual Day back at the university? Well, about that she was not entirely sure.

  "We'll just have to wait and see," she said aloud.

  Only time would tell.

  *****

  Addie stepped into the Gallery at three sharp.

  It was empty. No wonder; there was no exhibition currently on. But she expected someone, at the very least the officials. It was a surprise that it was open in the first place.

  She walked the entire length of the hall, which was punctuated by windows at regular intervals. Maybe someone would drop in to check; somebody might have spotted her? She must have spent about five minutes before deciding that this was no good.

  She stepped out onto the lawn. Rather than being disappointed, she took that in her stride. If you were happy taking a detour and enjoyed the sights along the way, you were a content person – she had read that somewhere. She knew that sooner or later, Kenrick would arrive. Why stress in the meanwhile? Till then, she would just walk on the lawn.

  She kicked off her sandals, like she used to back in her neighborhood park, and walked barefoot on the inviting grass. It felt nice as always. As Addie had read, it also did a lot of good for your eyes, preventing glaucoma. The fresh grass (combined with dew in the mornings) cooled the nerve endings on your feet, and its effect reached all the way to the eye.

  Unlike most people, she liked it when things did not happen as per plan. When it unfolded as per schedule, there was no scope for any surprise. But when things went wrong – as the conventional expression would have it – that was when things would go right for her.

  For Addie, when the planned events did not transpire, it opened up avenues for something else to happen. This something else would perhaps be more exciting than the planned event, or it could lead to a whole new set of events that would not have happened otherwise. It was weird, but she liked it that way.

&nbs
p; Better to be a little weird than boring.

  She walked from one end of the lawn to the other. When she was returning, she saw an official running towards her.

  "My sincerest apologies, Your Royal Highness," the man was panting.

  "What?" she asked.

  "May I know why you are apologetic?"