19
Derek
I shift from foot to foot, already tired from receiving the endless line of guests arriving at the ball. This is going to be one long night.
So far, I’ve seen no sign of Ella. Not a trace. I’ve searched the face of every brown-haired girl with big tits. And nothing. My heart can’t take it if she doesn’t show up.
Another brunette steps forward in a tight evening gown that dips way, way low, revealing a massive expanse of flesh, her tits so huge they look like pumpkins. I frown. I mean, I love tits—a whole fucking lot—love to lick them, suck them, shove my dick in between them, cum on them—but fucking hell. Those are a bit much.
She comes up to me and all I can think about is Ella, wondering when she’ll arrive. I go up on my toes, trying to peer over the heads of the women lined up before me, but this chick gets right in my line of sight, draping herself all over me, whispering in my ear all the obscene things she’d like to do to me.
All I can do is push her away in disgust. That goes to show what Ella has done to me. I only want her. I’m like a whole new man.
“Next,” I grumble to Travers, who sighs and gestures for her to move along. I ignore the whine and pout she gives me.
“Your Highness,” Travers murmurs, leaning in close, “you must pick someone. There are plenty of lovely ladies here.”
I give him a death glare. “She has to be here, Travers. I’m not going to pick just anyone. It has to be her.”
“Look, I know you think you’re in love with this woman, but your father only agreed to this if you choose someone tonight. No more games after this. His patience is wearing thin.”
His patience? I feel like I’m about to crawl out of my own skin I’m so anxious for Ella to show up.
“Travers,” I grit out, “she will be here. Have a little faith.” I say it as much to boost my own confidence as his. Because honestly, I’m starting to have my doubts. I figured she’d hear about the ball, know that I was doing it for her, and then be one of the first to appear. But this has been going on for hours already.
Maybe this idea was a long shot, the chances of her hearing about it and coming being too slim, what with her not being from St. Albans.
“All I’m saying, Your Highness, is that there are plenty of eligible ladies here to choose from. Like this one,” he says, gesturing to the next girl in line.
I look down and want to just turn and stalk out. It’s fucking Melissa.
“No,” I hiss at Travers. “Not this one. I’m in love with Ella, and she’s the one I’m going to marry.”
I don’t know if Melissa hears this or not. It’s hard to tell if that’s a scowl on her face because she’s pissed about what I said or if she has a permanent resting bitch face.
“Why, Derek,” she coos, pasting a fake smile on her face when she realizes I’m looking in her general direction. It makes me want to hurl. “I’m so happy you’ve returned. Finished sowing all your wild oats, have you?”
She trails a finger down my neck, causing me to shudder. It’s like having a brush with the Grim Reaper. Fuck. Someone needs to get her out of here. I just stare at her blankly.
“I’m so glad,” she continues, her voice so saccharine it makes my stomach seize. “I knew one day you’d get it all out of your system and realize that we belong together. Now we can get started with our life together.”
I scoff in disbelief. She’s fucking unbelievable. A real piece of work. “How many ways do I have to say I’m not interested, Melissa, before you get the hint? How dense are you?”
Her eyebrows draw together and a hint of the evil bitch inside surfaces for half a second before she schools her expression into what she must think passes as pleasant. A fake laugh trills from her throat, but it sounds like a death gong to me. “You’re so silly, Derek. Always making jokes.”
“Not joking. Like, at all.” I sigh, turning to Travers. “Get rid of her. I need a drink.”
“But, Highness,” he stammers, “there are more ladies waiting.”
“Let them wait,” I say, already headed away. But I turn back and point at Melissa. “Make sure she’s gone by the time I get back.”
She turns that death glare on me again, all pretense of being semi-human falling away. “You’ll regret this, Derek. Make no mistake.”
I spin on my heel, tossing over my shoulder as I walk away, “The only mistake was you, Melissa.”
I make my way to the bar and the waiting glasses of Cristal, then find a huge column to hide behind for a minute. I need some breathing room.
Downing the champagne in one gulp, I rake my hands through my hair. “Fuck.”