At the Stroke of Midnight (Naughty Princess Club 1)

“Of course we are. It’s a princess party,” I reply indignantly with a lift of my chin. “What exactly does PJ stand for?”

Bringing one hand up, I smooth back my blond hair, which I wore in a beautiful French twist with a sparkling tiara, wanting to make sure I look the part as well as possible, since this is a paying job and not just some street party with neighbors.

“PJ stands for PJ. I mean I can’t believe you’re wearing actual princess costumes from a Halloween shop, the same ones you wore to that boring-as-fuck party. All satin and lace and virginal. This wasn’t my idea, and I’m pissed at John for taking it upon himself to hire you three. But at least put some effort into it and show some tits,” he grumbles, staring at my chest, which is completely covered by satin and lace.

I forget all about how nicely he fills out his jeans and the T-shirt he’s wearing and gasp in disgusted horror.

“Are you some kind of pervert?! This is a children’s party!” I shout, quickly shoving past him and into the room to grab my friends and get the heck out of here.

A loud chorus of screams and whistles pierces my ears as soon as I enter the room, my feet coming to an abrupt halt and my eyes widening in shock when I see what’s before me.

One man is lying on the back of the couch while another man holds some kind of funnel over his head and a tube in his mouth, dumping a bottle of beer into the contraption. Three other men are cheering them on. A man to the left of me gives me a wink and then belches loudly, followed by a small dry heave that he covers with his fist pressed against his mouth. Over in the far corner, another gentleman is currently bent over a ficus tree, throwing up into the base of it. I finally spot my friends over by a large stone fireplace. They’re standing in front of at least twenty men who are catcalling and tossing dollar bills at them while Ariel curses at them and Isabelle burrows her face into Ariel’s shoulder, refusing to look.

“They’re definitely acting like children, but I assure you, they’re all legal,” PJ says softly, making me jump in surprise when I feel his warm breath against the side of my neck as he bends down and speaks close to my ear.

Without turning around to face him, I march over to the fireplace, pushing my way through the drunk and disorderly men until I get to Ariel.

“I don’t think this is a children’s princess party!” I shout over the noise of the rambunctious men as a shower of dollar bills land at my feet. One of the men yells “TAKE IT OFF!”

“Gee, you think?!” Ariel yells back. “Some guy just unzipped his pants and pulled his dick out!”

Isabelle whimpers, shoving her face harder into Ariel’s arm.

“What did you do?!”

“What do you think I did? I looked at it. It was a pretty good dick. Nice length, excellent girth. I give it an 8.5 on the dick scale,” she says with a shrug. “He lost a point and a half for calling his dick Sanford and informing me that Sanford spits when he’s excited. Like I haven’t heard that one before. Lame.”

I move to Ariel’s other side, and she wraps her free arm around me protectively as the men keep cheering and begging us to start removing our dresses.

“Did you know seven out of ten men name their penis and testicles and often talk to them, urge them on, and flatter them?” Isabelle tells us, finally pulling her head away from Ariel’s arm to look at us.

“What do we do?” I ask Ariel nervously, smiling and waving at the men.

“Stop giving them a fucking princess wave for starters!” Ariel screams, dropping her arm from around me to smack my still-waving hand.

I don’t know why I still feel the need to remain in character when our plans for this evening have been turned upside down. This costume just naturally transforms me into a walking, talking princess. One who smiles and waves politely even while drunk men are throwing money at us and puking in potted plants.

“Here, do something with these!” John says, coming toward us with a bucket full of long, blown-up balloons in varying colors, setting the bucket down at our feet with a smile.

“Ooooooh, balloon animals!” Isabelle says excitedly, reaching down and grabbing a red balloon.

“I read a book about balloon animals to prepare myself for this party just in case,” she informs us before giving John a huge smile. “I can do a dog, a snake, a monkey, or a fish. Which one would you like?”

John looks at her in confusion.