AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Security rushes towards us and the orchestra stops playing abruptly. Cindi’s taken aback as my words hit.
“You’re married with a kid on the way?” Clark Kent ignores her, throwing swings at me which I manage to dodge easily. After all, I drop gloves for a living.
There’s a hush of voices as a crowd forms around us. Ducking one of Clark Kent’s punches, I lean forward to make sure Cindi’s okay. But when she yanks off her mask to glare at her date, my focus zeroes in on just her and I get clipped on the jaw.
Jesusfuckingchrist. That’s why her eyes gave me pause.
Cindi, the Senator’s daughter, the one my parents have been pushing me toward all week, the woman they think would make a good wife for me, is Elle. My Elle.
Elle, the woman I’m madly in love with.
Before I can process further, Bennet’s fist connects again, this time it’s more than a glancing blow and I taste blood from my lip.
“Fuck!” The curse is more from shock than pain because I have a good four inches and a hundred pounds on him and he’s still managed to get in two licks.
The crowd is cut by the unmistakable clacking of my mother’s designer heels. “Danon!”
Grabbing Elle’s hand, I pull her behind me, as I head in the opposite direction as my mother.
“Not now, mother,” I say loudly. “Cindi and I have something important to discuss.”
Of course, Elle resists. She has no idea who I am, aside from the Prince who’s been an asshole to her all night and has just started a fight with her date. She squeals, her bare feet dragging against the slick floor.
“Stop pulling me Danon!”
I swing us out of the door and rip off my mask, tossing it to the floor. Turning to flash her my face without stopping, I feel her arm go limp in my grip. I stop short and she slams into me. Her jaw slack, as she takes in my face, undoubtedly confused by my familiar face but short hairstyle and smooth jaw.
“Dan?” I can practically see her mind whirling, and for just that second I allow myself the same space to make further connections. Elle’s a waitress, Cindi’s American Royalty. A Senator’s daughter. Her father, as I understand it, is about to run for president. I remember the designer bag, shoes and dress, from our date.
“Dan,” she whispers and reaches for my shaven cheek, her delicate hands landing warm against my skin. “Your hair… Your beard… You’re a…” She frowns, her hands dropping from my face. “What the hell, Dan? You’re a prince? What happened to the hockey player?”
The sound of clacking shoes is back, and they’re sharper than before as is the sound of voices from the following crowd. Jesus, these people are nosey as fuck.
“I’ll explain later. Come on!” I yank her forward again, running and dragging her behind me. This time I stop at the first door I see, pulling it open, I shove her inside before I follow. It’s dark so I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight. We’re in some sort of oversized storage closet. I quickly find the light switch and we’re bathed in light.
There’s no lock on the door, so I stick a chair with a broken spindle against it and sit my ass down to keep anyone from getting in.
Catching my breath, I stare at Elle. My Elle. Here. The one place I thought she’d never be. And I don’t mean the storage closet. I mean she’s here, mingling with high society and besides the awkward curtsies, she fits in way better than me.
“You better start explaining yourself, Danon, Prince of fucking Denmark.” She crosses her arms as tightly as her jaw clenches.
“I know you have questions, we both do, but right now there’s only one thing I want more than answers.” I rise, closing the space between us. Placing my hands on either side of her face, I pull her to me for a long, deep kiss.
Her supple lips welcome mine, and her arms loop around me at least until I release her. That’s when her hand flies up and cracks against my cheek. It’s the same side Bennet clipped me on.
I don’t think. I just react. In a split second, I sit back down on the chair and pull her over my leg. Her hands fly out and she yelps as she lands face down with her abdomen across my thigh. I yank up the skirt of her dress, fussing through way too many layers of crinkly material. When I finally find her ass, it’s framed beautifully in lacey white panties and a garter belt.
The split second I take to admire it is enough for her to catch on and start squirming. My palm lands in a stinging blow against her alabaster skin. And though it isn’t the first time I’ve spanked her, it’s the first time it’s not for foreplay. It’s also the first time she struggles to avoid my punishing hand.
“Dan! What the hell? Stop this!” she cries out, as I concentrate on turning her bottom a pale pink. “Ouch! This is abuse!”
“No, it’s self-defense,” I huff. “You hit me first, remember? Besides, you need to be punished.”
She fights to get up but with all the layers of her dress impeding her progress, I have time to paint her ass some more.
“You lied to Daddy, didn’t you?” I accuse. “I thought you were a waitress. Meanwhile, you're practically American royalty!”
“Ohhh… I lied to you?” She hisses with a particularly hard and satisfying spank. “Excuse me?” she growls. “Ow! One of us is a liar and it’s not… fuck, that hurts… me!” Her righteous indignation fuels her fight and seconds later she manages to propel herself from my hold and scrampers away to the back of the closet.
