One weekend, we decided to stay in on a Sunday. I remember we got into his hot tub. It took Derrick all of five minutes to get my bikini off of me and it took me all of another minute to pull his board shorts off. But then he looked into my eyes, and got a far off look. “You have the most beautiful fucking eyes, I’ve ever seen,” he whispered. “I want to fuck you till you can’t walk.”
I giggled. “You’re so romantic, Your Highness,” I teased him.
He began tweaking my nipples and I gasped.
When we were done, I wrapped my arms around him and he told me all about his Dad. All the time he wasted being mad at his father and all the questions he has to ask. How long did his father know about his mother’s drug habit? Why didn’t he ever say anything? How much he regrets all the hateful words.
I hold onto Derrick at that time. He doesn’t expose himself like this to anyone. It’s only for me.
Fifty
That’s how many times Derrick and his father have spoken since I showed Derrick the truth. The two spend hours now talking on the phone, catching up and getting to know one another. Derrick has had some pretty intense conversations on the phone with his father, listening to some of the nightmarish things that their mother put them through as she fought with her disease of alcoholism and drug addiction. I don’t know if he’s cried – but if there was ever a time that he would, that would be it. Of course, he wouldn't admit it. He certainly wouldn’t do it in my presence.
I’m glad that Derrick and his father speak regularly now and they’ve finally started to heal some of the words that they had dividing them all this time.
Okay, fine. Sometimes, just sometimes – and not all the time – I get a little irritated if the King calls and we were about to have sex. But the feeling of irritation goes away as soon as the Prince lays his hands on me again. And it’s forgotten as soon as I cum. Derrick Blaine literally fucks it out of me.
Nine.
That’s how many articles I’ve written as Abigail Adams since Derrick and I had sex. Each one gets better and better for him. It’s strange though – at first when Mike and Danielle put me on the Abby desk, they wanted me to trash Derrick. And I did. Savagely. But saying good things or having flattering stories where we only poke fun at him in a good natured way sells WAY more papers. People don’t like to see others torn down – they want to feel happy.
And Abby’s column on Page Eight is starting to reflect me. I feel very happy when I’m with Derrick. No one has made me happier in my entire life. Every moment I’m with him seems to go by so fast. I feel like snatching them and never letting them go. I miss him when he’s not around and my heart leaps like it’s the first time I’m seeing him when I do see him.
Seven.
That’s how many times I’ve gotten to talk about his other love in his life. Alicia Bayer.
Which is, well, I guess…me.
He’s sat with me on his balcony as we’ve curled up in a blanket and admitted to me how much he used to tease her when he was very young. Because apparently he never knew how to approach someone so pretty. At first it brought up bad memories. But then I remembered certain things. How he’d help me up after he pushed me down on the ground as a kid. Or how he’d always have a look in his eyes that was worried I would cry. I never did, but I remember the look.
We’ve laid in bed after sex and I’ve asked him why he never told me (Alicia) how he felt. He’s searched his soul and told me after his Mother died, he really felt like he’d lost the capacity to love for a long time. But that every time he saw me he felt at peace. He didn’t know how to approach someone who could affect him so much.
One day as we walked through Central Park I asked why he ignored her and didn’t let her know how he felt before she left once they had grown older. He looked off in the distance and realized as he spoke to me that deep down, he always thought Alicia hated him because of all the times he tormented her. Because he never learned how to talk to her. How he asked his mother once and she dismissed Alicia because she wasn’t royalty. Said she would never have him because she’d be too intimidated.
One morning during brunch, I even found out that Samantha Bayers – my mother – is dating the King! I mean, she had already kind of told me, but it’s so weird hearing it from him. Talking about how he respected Samantha the whole time and the only reason he never rebelled against her as she set up interviews for him was because one day he hoped to find her daughter. I don’t know what to say. Honestly.
One day on his boat I asked him why he never spent more time trying to find her. He answered after some thought and his eyes were pained. He told me it wouldn’t be fair to me. That he was already so in love with me.
Two.
That’s how many people we used to be. And that leaves…
One.
That’s how many people we are now when we’re together.
Derrick
“All rise,” the Bailiff announces as the entire courtroom gets to its feet and an elderly looking judge comes in from his office attached to the back. The Bailiff continues. “The Honorable Judge Walter E. Byrd is now presiding over the Federal Court for the 10th Circuit. Please be seated.”
I sit down. Larry is sitting next to me in the seat that's normally reserved for Counsel. Daphne’s sitting behind me. I turn my head back to her and give her a quick smile. She’s wearing a silky navy blue dress. We fucked hard this morning – she got on top and squeezed her eyes shut as she rocked back and forth on my monster fucking cock until she came so fucking hard that her body literally trembled for hours on end afterwards.
“Prince Derrick Blaine,” the judge says and looks at me. Fucking hell. It’s fucking game time, mate. I’ve been in front of this judge so many times that I figure I should start sending him Christmas cards going forward.
I stand up along with Larry and he opens my file. I look back. The courtroom is filled with your usual suspects. People waiting for the judge to plead their cases, reporters, and casual observers.
Across the table is Samantha fucking Scar.