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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 fu
n 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.
20
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.
“I see here that you’ve paid all your fines this month,” the Judge says looking through the file. “Not just what you racked up but everything you’ve accrued.”
“I did, Your Honor,” I say. That’s why I’m here today. It’s really just a formality, unless the Judge wants to impose additional sentencing based on what I did on camera. That’s why Larry is here with me. That’s probably why that fucking DA, Samantha, is here too.
“So it looks like the NYPD are going to be able to afford that summer barbecue based on all the fines you’ve paid,” the Judge chuckles to himself. Despite the surroundings, I can’t help but smile and be amused. Every time I fucking parked in a loading zone, all the red lights I’ve run, all the driving on the other side of the road is now paid off. Hell, I once landed a helicopter on Park Avenue – snarling traffic. That was a pretty hefty fine - $50,000. I paid that off to in preparation for this court date. In fact, it was just a matter of listening to Larry telling me that the best thing I could do for legal issues was to start by paying off all the claims against me.
“I also see that you’ve managed to keep yourself out of trouble for the last six weeks – there have been no citations against you so far,” the Judge went on, his eyes widening. “Not a single citation,” he repeats with awe.
I smile at him. I’ve been holding back. Redirecting all that energy towards fucking Daphne.
Like literally fucking her.
