Nicholas opened the mirror cabinet and took down his bottle of OxyContin. His hands trembled as he
tried to open the lid. Getting the bottle open, he dumped four pills into his hand and then tossed them in
his mouth. It was far more than he was supposed to take at once, but any less barely took the edge off.
He put the cap back on and returned the bottle of pills to the shelf before closing the cabinet.
His hands were planted firmly on the edge of the bathroom counter. Nicholas looked at his reflection.
He was a mess, but he did not care. He was expecting a girl, but he could not be bothered to fix himself
up. After all, he paid her to fuck him, not judge him. Octavius had called the service hours ago to
arrange some pleasurable company for the night.
As royalty, he should not have to pay to play. He was a wealthy, young, attractive man… if he tried, he
would have no problem picking up beautiful women in clubs willing to go to bed with him, but in his
state, Nicholas did not like going to clubs, and he did not feel like playing the game. He just wanted
someone to go to bed with him and leave. No conversation, no getting to know you bullshit, just
mindless no strings sex and then leave him alone.
He stared at the mess in the mirror, and he could feel his anger and despair grow. Suddenly Octavius
appeared in the washroom doorway. His expression sympathetic and his tone empathetic. He had not
seen Nicholas take the handful of pills, but he did not have to. Everyone in the house knew he popped
pills like candy. “The girl has arrived,” Octavius told him.
Nicholas stood up and exited the washroom. He sat down in his favourite chair and picked up the half-
empty glass of bourbon. He took a big sip and returned the glass to the end table, then picked up his
cigar. “Send her in,” he said, making himself comfortable. He lifted the cigar to his lips and inhaled as
Octavius left the room, and a young woman walked in. She slowly walked around the bed so that she
was standing in the middle of the room.
Nicholas’ gaze raked over the woman before him. She was very young. She was short, probably barely
clearing 5’4”. She was not voluptuous or curvy; she was actually very petite and slender. She was
dressed in a soft blue cocktail dress, which was light against her toffee-coloured complexation. She
clearly was not white, but he was not sure what she was. She seemed to have Latino features, but he
would not say she was of Mexican or Latin descent… at least not fully. She might have been mixed-
race; yes, the more he looked at her, the surer he was that she was just that. Her hair was long and
straight, a beautiful soft caramel colour. It shimmered in the firelight. Her eyes were big and a deep rich
dark brown.
She had a pretty heart-shaped face with a perfect nose and lush, full lips. She was far prettier than the
other women the agency had sent him. It was strange, he knew she was a prostitute, but she had an
odd air of innocence about her. He sat there, enjoying his cigar as he looked her over. He could not
help but notice she was doing the same. Looking him over and taking him in. Suddenly he almost
wished he had cleaned up. But then again, she was a prostitute, and it is not like he needed to impress
her. She was going o sleep with him regardless of how he looked. He took another puff of his cigar and
studied her. “What is your name?” He asked. He was not sure why he was asking; he never asked any
of the others. Names were not exactly a critical thing for him, but for some reason, he wanted to know
hers.
“Kinsley… Your Majesty,” her voice wavered like she was nervous. Strange for a prostitute to be
nervous. Suddenly he remembered Octavius saying the agency was sending over a new girl. Was she
just new to the company or new to the trade altogether? Judging from her state of unease, he was
betting she’d never done this before.
“Are you nervous?” He asked.
“No,” she was lying.
“Octavius says you are new.”
“Yes. You are my first client.”
“First, with this company or first-ever?”
She looked like she did not want to answer. “First ever,” she confessed.
“Interesting,” he took another drag from his cigar. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one,” she said.
He wondered how fresh she was. “Have you ever been with a man?”
“Yes,” she assured him quickly like she thought if she said no, he would find her inexperienced and
send her away for someone who knew what she was doing. She would not look him in the eye when
she said it, though. She was deliberately avoiding eye contact.
“Really?” He asked, not believing her. “How many?” He asked, pushing the subject.
She was thoughtful for a moment. “Three?” She finally said.
Nicholas lifted one dark brow. “Are you asking me?”
“Three,” she repeated with more conviction.
“Three?” He asked, not believing her.
She could tell from his expression he was not buying it. “Two?” She said, changing her answer. He just
fixed her with a hard stare. “One?” She said, changing her answer again. He just stared at her. She
sighed. “Ok, none,” she confessed with embarrassment. “But I am a fast learner, and I am willing to do
whatever it takes to keep you happy,” she said quickly, trying to argue why she thought he should let
her stay.
“Anything is a broad term,” he told her. “I do not think you have realized what you have gotten yourself
into,” he said, putting his cigar in the ashtray and standing up. “I will have Octavius call you a taxi. You
may wait downstairs,” he said, walking toward the door to call for Octavius.
“No!” She said quickly and grabbed his arm as he tried to pass her. Nicholas paused in shock and
looked down at her hands on his arm. She was the first person to have ever dared to touch him without
his permission first. In his country, grabbing a member of the royal family was a criminal offence
punishable by prison time. “Please,” she pleaded with him. “I need this job; they will fire me if you send
me away,” realizing she had overstepped, Kinsley released his arm and stepped back, looking
apologetic. “Please, just give me a chance.”
He turned, so he was standing face to face with her. Less than two feet away, he could not help but
realize how much smaller than him she really was. She had to crane her neck to look up at him. Her
dark eyes were pleading with him.
“Is this really how you want your first time to be? With a john?” He asked, trying to put things into
perspective for her.
“It is either going to be you or some other john. At least you are cute,” she said, offering him a playful
smile that actually brought a grin to his face.
“Why are you doing this? You seem like a nice girl, far too nice to be in this line of work.”
“I need the money.”
“Why not get a real job?”
“I had a real job, and I got laid-off. Look, I have not eaten in days because I cannot afford food. My
utilities were cut off last night because I have not paid the bills in two months. I have no phone because
I am so far behind they have sent me to collections. And I am two days away from being homeless. I
need money, and this is the only option I have left. Please do not send me away. I am willing; just give
me a chance,” there was such desperation in her eyes.
Nicholas stared into her eyes, and he felt bad for her. Maybe he could give her a chance. “You have not
eaten in days?”
She seemed surprised that he had focused on that part of her confession. “I do not know four days,
maybe. Why?”
Nicholas walked over to the door and opened it. He looked outside and spotted the maid dusting.
“Have the cook bring us up dinner for two,” the woman nodded and rushed off to do his bidding.
He shut the door and turned to face her. “Did you just order dinner?” She asked, confused.
“Yes, if you are going to stay, you are going to need your strength. Do not want you fainting from
malnourishment,” he teased.
“But are not you paying by the hour?” She asked.
Nicholas snickered as he walked past her back to his chair. “Darling, I have the wealth of a nation
behind me. I can afford to waste a few hours,” he said, sitting down and picking up his cigar. “Besides,
do you have someplace better to be?”
“No,” she said unsurely.
Nicholas gestured to the empty chair next to him. “Sit,” she walked over and sat down on the edge of
the seat, her back straight and her hands folded in her lap. She was still nervous. “Can I fix you a
drink?” He offered.
“No, I am good,” she refused.
“It might relax you,” he suggested picking up his own drink and taking a big sip. He was often told he
should not mix booze with pills but screw them; he’d do what he wanted. What was the worse that
could happen, he’d drop dead? Big deal, he had nothing to live for anyway. There was a knock at the
door. “That would be dinner.”
“That was fast?” She said with surprise.
“My staff is very efficient,” he said. Nicholas did not eat very often, but the cook prepared every meal
anyway in case he decided he wanted to eat. It ensured he would not have to wait long when he was
actually hungry.
“Should I get the door?” She asked.
“No. Enter,” he raised his voice, and his maid walked in, carrying a tray with two plates. The cook had
made BLTs; he loved a good BLT. She walked over and placed the tray down on the small table
between the two chairs. She then quickly left. He looked over at Kinsley, who was biting her lip and
practically salivating as she looked longingly at the food. “Please enjoy.”
She then grabbed the closest plate and picked up the sandwich. She ate with urgency. And within
minutes, she had devoured the whole plate. She then looked at his. “Are you going to eat that?” She
asked.
Nicholas looked at his untouched sandwich and then back at her. She was clearly starving. “No, be my
guest,” Kinsley snatched up the other sandwich and began to eat it too.
He watched as she polished off the last. He’d never seen anyone eat that fast before. She put the plate
down and looked embarrassed by her ravenous behaviour. “Sorry, that was not very attractive.”
He chuckled. “Would you like more? I can have the kitchen send something else up.”
“No,” she shook her head. “I am sorry I ate yours.”
“Do not be. I was not hungry anyway,” he really was not. Most of the time, he could not even stomach
food. He ate a little every couple of days. Just enough to get everyone off his back. “Feel better?”
She smiled sheepishly, and he smiled. “Yes, thank you,” she looked like she felt awkward. “I do not
mean to rush you, but can we just get this over with?”
“Wow, nothing puts a man in the mood faster than the woman he was going to bed with say ‘can we
just get this over with.’”
She looked away. “I am sorry.”
He had a feeling nothing was going to put her at ease. So maybe he should just move things along.
“Ok,” he said, putting his glass down and picking up his cigar. “Stand up,” she stood up like instructed,
and then he smiled. “Take your clothes off,” Kinsley stood in front of Nicholas, her nerves still obvious.
He was watching her impatiently as he finished his cigar. “Any time,” he prompted when she hesitated
to do as instructed.
Kinsley took hold of the thin zipper on the side of her dress and slowly lowered it, letting the dress fall
to the floor. She stepped out of her dress and using the toe of her high heels. She kicked it aside. She
stood in front of him now in her dark blue panties and bra. Her body was flawless, and he most
defiantly approved.
The desire to touch her was too much. Nicholas put his cigar down and stood up. He walked over to
her, standing extremely close. He shrugged off his shirt and tossed it on the nearest chair. She would
not look him in the eyes. But he was used to that. Most people would not look him in the eye. He lifted
his right hand, letting his fingers graze her soft jawline. Her skin was so soft, almost like silk.
Her gaze drifted to his hand, and a questioning look claimed her pretty face when she saw the long
thick scars across the soft fleshy side of his wrist. Kinsley reached up and took his hand to prevent him
from pulling away, allowing her to inspect the wounds on his wrists. She then reached down and took
his left hand, turning his wrist upward so she could see the matching scars. A few of them were old and
healed, and a few were more recent. The most recent only a few months old. Failed attempts to take
his life. Her eyes lifted from the scars and met his, and he saw curiosity and sympathy.
The way she was looking at him made him uncomfortable. Nicholas pulled his hands away from hers
and walked to the door. “Get out,” he ordered as he opened the door and stepped out into the hall,
yelling for Octavius.
“What? Why?” She asked, reaching for her dress to put it back on.
“Just leave!” He barked at her as she reached the door zipping up her dress. Octavius appeared at the
door. “Call a cab and send her home,” Nicholas ordered.
“What did I do?” Kinsley asked as Octavius took her by the arm and urged her out into the hallway with
him. Nicholas slammed the door, cutting himself off from the woman and his man. He looked down at
his scars and felt his hands begin to tremble again. He was going to need more bourbon.
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