Royal S.O.B. (A Bad Boy Romance) (13 page)

Outside
Addie's huge French window, someone had placed a large bouquet.

At
least, that was what it had looked like at first glance. In reality, it was a
psychedelic painting of the choicest flowers from the gardens of Mother Nature.

There
was Bermuda Buttercup, that wonderful yellow five-petal flower that she'd
picked as a child with friends back in her neighborhood. Then there was St.
Bernard's Lily and Oleander, along with Lantana and Scarlet Pimpernel, that
dazzling blue with pointed ends like a celestial star. And there was Verbascum,
Common Mallow, Spanish Oyster, Stork's Bill and Bindweed, creating a dazzling
floral combination; not forgetting Blue Gem and Calla Lilly, completing a
comprehensive bunch that was a sight for sore eyes.

Spring
had arrived.

And
with that, there was a spring in her step. And happiness in her heart. This was
the season to be joyous, and to share that happy feeling with someone dear.

"Catie!"
She called her best friend on the phone.

"Yes,
my princess," came the response.

"Guess
what's outside my window?"

"Is
it a huge bouquet sent to you by Prince Kenrick?"

Addie
was aghast at the obvious truth in her statement, and at the hidden untruth in
it.

"Catie!"

There
was a hint of reproach in her voice.

"Why
bring that creepy leech into every conversation of ours?"

"Oops,
I'm sorry, Addie," Cate quickly apologized.

"It
was just a joke. Tell me what's outside your window."

"You
won't believe it," said Adelaide.

"I
counted at least twelve different flower types in my backyard. Reminded me of
my neighborhood back in the town."

"Your
backyard, my dear princess, is as big as
my
entire neighborhood," scoffed Cate.

"Is
it any wonder you have a little botanical garden out there?"

Addie
laughed. And Cate sighed relief.

"Wanna
come have a look?" Addie asked.

"Addie,"
replied Cate, and her friend kind of knew what was coming.

"If
you want me there, just say that and I'll be there the next minute. Why use the
season as the reason?"

"Okay,
Catie, come over," Addie liked the wordplay.

"Transport
coming your way."

She
hung up and called for Mrs. Bradford.

"My
dear governess, may I have Cate over please?"

"Why,
of course," the old woman replied at once.

"And
Mrs. Bradford, may I have her stay the night please?"

"Yes,
of course," she answered with the same quickness.

"What?"
Addie could not believe her ears.

"Yes,
you may have your friend stay overnight," Mrs. Bradford repeated.

"How
come?" Addie asked.

"What
about the protocols?"

"Well,"
the old lady paused.

"I
had a chat with the security guys on that."

"You
did?"

"Yes.
I asked them about Prince Kenrick, who could have his friend stay with him for
days, then why can't my Princess Adelaide do the same?"

"Wow."

"So,
you can."

"That's
what they said?"

"They
had nothing to say, except agree to my request."

Addie
jumped up from her chair and pounced on Mrs. Bradford. She gave her a huge hug
and an even huger kiss on her cheek.

"That's
why you're my Mrs. Bradford and I'm your little Addie!"

The
old lady's eyes welled up yet again. It was not uncommon for children from the
royal household to get close to their nannies, but this kind of bonding was
rare indeed.

*****

In
exactly an hour, Cate was in her chambers.
 

"Catie!
Am I not thrilled to see you!"

Addie's
delight knew no bounds.

She
had not met her best friend since that eventful Annual Day at the university.
And though she was not tired physically that day, she felt spent mentally and
emotionally. The nervousness of the reading (yes, she
was
nervous, despite her calm exterior), the mental fatigue of
winning (yes, she
was
pooped), and
finally the emotional exhaustion of meeting the prince (yes, it
was
draining) – she needed to have Cate
over that night. It wasn't a matter of wanting.

What
she really needed was to just collapse into bed, with Cate by her side, and
just let go of everything, mind and body, and vanish into nothingness. But she
was afraid of being too dependent on her best friend, always seeking her
presence; no, that was not to be made a habit. She had to face these
circumstances herself, cope with the conditions on her own.

Of
course, she knew the reason for this loneliness: Her mother. Ever since she
became the 'queen mother', she was not accessible to Addie. The two of them,
who were thick as thieves just months before, had to now contend with protocols
and appointments just to see each other. Earlier, her mum was just a yell away.
Now she was so far, and yet so near. Now she had to send requests, fill forms,
and go through channels to meet with her own blood. And being the emotional
creature that she was, Addie needed the shoulder of a loved one.

That
mantle fell on Cate. And fortunately, she realized this. Cate knew what Addie's
mother meant to her, and – while there was no way Cate could even aspire to
fill that gap – she could at least lend her ear to Addie. Which was why when
Addie needed her, anytime in the day or night, she was there.

And
Addie was ever grateful for that presence.
 

"You
called, and I came!" Cate exulted.

"And
don't ever think you require excuses for calling me in the future."

"Thank
you, my dear Cate," Addie flung her arms around her best friend.

"You
know it," replied Catie.

"And
I say this not because you've become a princess overnight. For me, you're still
the same old Addie from that same old middle class neighborhood."

That
touched a raw nerve in Adelaide. Her head fell on Cate's shoulder, and she felt
the throbbing of her friend's head. Moments later, her top was wet in tiny
patches… She just held Addie in a tight hug as her friend was sobbing quietly.

*****

"So
– what do you think of the prince inviting you yet again?" Cate asked
Addie.

They
were lying around in her four-poster bed, not with their heads on pillows but
with their bodies aligned like an equals sign. It was rather late in the night,
and they were just talking and talking and talking.

The
one feature of their conversations was that they never ran out of topics. One
subject segued seamlessly into another in a long continuum of chatter, in which
both parties contributed equally and enjoyed equally as well. Nothing was
forced, no discussion dragged on needlessly, and the conversation flowed
smoothly like a river downstream.

Now,
as usual, they went through several topics, from studies and impending
examinations to university life and the just-concluded Annual Day. And that was
how the mention of the prince happened to enter their thought thread.

"Honestly…"
replied Addie, her mind somewhere far away.

"I've
no idea… My mind is in such a muddle, I needed another brain to work on the
problem. And who else but you to share this load with?"

She
gave a tiny head nod to her friend.

"Yup,
I get that," said Cate affably.

"But
tell me, what's the confusion all about? Have
you
fallen for the sexy prince, too?"

"Come
on Cate." The speed with which Addie answered baffled Cate.

"That
is something that would never happen in this life."

"Are
you sure, Addie?"

"Yes,
cocksure," Adelaide affirmed.

Both
friends stopped for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"That
was precisely what I was referring to!" said Cate through her laughter.

"No,
seriously I am," Addie said, without much conviction in her voice.

"Okay,"
granted Cate, hearing the cravings of her heart at once.

"And
if at all it happens…"

Addie
fumbled with her words, for the first time.

"You'll
be the first one to know."

"What!"

And
both friends rollicked on the bed with laughter once again.

One
day passed. Two days passed. Three days went by.

There
was no change in Kenrick's state of mind. Or state of the heart. He was
lovelorn, much as he hated to admit it, and turned a recluse in his own manor.

Very
rarely would he move from his chambers, except to go to the study. He was
averse to reading, and even more averse to switching on his laptop. He would
never step out the door, and would not even venture as far as the large window
by his desk. The most he would do was sit at the table and scribble on royal
stationery – largely inane sentences – create small paper balls out of them and
throw them in the bin. That was his favorite pastime.

Almost
a week had slipped by since that evening at the university, when had had –
shamelessly – invited Princess Adelaide once again. This was not him; such
exaggerated courtesy was not part of his mental makeup. In fact, he had never
invited anyone ever in his life, so that itself was a huge aberration. And to
request the same person to come over twice – it was unthinkable.

And
yet, he had done it. He had done it because he thought she was a
Johnny-come-lately; a recent inexperienced parvenu who needed some handholding
when it came to matters pertaining to royalty. And as her stepbrother, he felt
it was his solemn duty to familiarize Princess Adelaide with the practices of
the royal household. Visiting relatives was very much a part of the prevalent
customs, anyway.

What balderdash!

If
anything, one thing Kenrick could be counted on was to call a spade a spade. Or
at least, that was his personality till now. Even if it was unearthing his own
secret yearning, he would be the first to identify it, declare it and acknowledge
it. That took courage, he knew, and he took pride in his own guts. Where was
the need to hide something, and whom to hide it from?

This
recent thinking of his – of him doing this 'noble duty' towards his latter day
stepsister – was so much baloney. And deep inside, he knew it.

How long will I keep
fooling myself
,
he wondered.

God,
this was not who he was. He had developed feelings for her – his stepsister –
and now he was in denial mode. Then it dawned on him.

She
was the one who made
him this way.
She
was the one who had
changed him. She was the one, yes Princess Adelaide, who'd turned him into this
hypocritical moron.

And
he hated her for it.

Suddenly
he was seized by a huge wave of disdain for the princess. This girl, virtual
stranger to him and to his royal heritage, wielded so much great power on him!

He
could not fathom that. He could not figure out for the life of him how he could
be so pliant, like putty in her hands. Was he such a weakling, such a worthless
nincompoop, that he was reduced to being this, this ridiculous idiot certainly
not worthy of being a prince, and the sole heir to the royal throne?

The
thought filled him with vengeance. Rapidly, Kenrick's mind rose to a
restlessness never known before. He was quickly transforming, like a werewolf
on a full moon night, into a beast he didn't know existed within himself. A
monster that had to be appeased, that had to be fed when hungry… and it was
hungry right now.

He
got up, breathing heavy, rolling his fingers into a violent fist. The enormous
energy inside him had to be released, his mind focused on something. He walked
around the room like a vagrant soul, his brain in complete mayhem.

That
was when, like history recycling itself, the two women appeared below the
window again – the two menial workers he had encountered once in the past.

Without
a moment's hesitation, and without thinking, he ran out of the room, down the
stairs, through the corridor, out the large wooden door, out in the open, and
bang inside the room – all in a matter of seconds.
 

Once
inside, he closed the door in a flash, its bolt hitting home with a thud that
reverberated in the entire manor. Right then and there, without a word, he
caught hold of both the petrified women. He held one in each hand – he seemed
to have the strength of an ogre – and ordered them to strip.

The
women, shaking in fear, started to remove their clothes.

"Quick
you bitches," he barked.

"I
don't have all day!"

They
hurried up, until both women were down to their bra and panties. In one fell
swoop, he tore the bras baring their breasts. Without pausing to admire the
heaving bosoms, he stripped them of their panties. Now they just stood there,
their hands cupping their shame in front, and now reaching on top to cover
their chest in addition, and failing at both.

The
same lunch table, minus the lunchboxes this time, was waiting breathlessly for
his exploits.

He
took both the women, turned the shorter one around (the one he let Pat take the
other day, which he had not). The taller one (whom he had taken) was made to
lean on the table, baring her bosom and pussy towards him.

His
cock, enormous even without an erection, now rose to the occasion. He took it
in his hand, not unlike a weightlifter lifting a heavy dumbbell – or Rambo
aiming his awesome machine gun – and thrust it between the tiny buttocks of the
shorter woman. He held her with his large left hand, squashing her breasts the
other side, which were grazing the sharp edge of the table anyway. And he was
thrusting, and thrusting, and thrusting, each thrust pressing her breasts into
the blade edge of the table. She was moaning.

The
other woman, meanwhile, was at the mercy of his large right hand. While pumping
the first woman, his hand was creaming the tits of the other woman; the big
breasts turning into easy meat within his clenched grasp. Her pink nipples grew
red as they were ruthlessly tweaked between his thumb and forefinger (which was
larger, stouter and harder than the penis of many a lesser man). Then at once,
his forefinger traveled down and dug deeper between her legs, with scant regard
for the noise she was making, the cries of pleasure she was emitting…

This
pounding of both women went on for a while. The river flew and flew, going
through many curves and crevices in its journey… and it finally reached its
destination.

At
once he removed his dark tool, still dripping with passion and semen, and wiped
it on the thigh of the hapless woman. Both women were panting, gasping, sated
beyond words; both collapsed on their knees before falling on the floor.

He
put on his trousers and shirt in a hurry, turning to go. He opened the door,
stepping on their discarded clothes. Anger seethed through him like a knife.

"Get
this shit out of here!" he yelled at the top of his voice.

"Worthless
bitches!"

He
picked up the clothes in one hand and flung them at their faces. Then he turned
to step out – and stopped there as if hit by a thunderbolt.

In
front of him, standing, was Princess Adelaide.