by Logan Chance
A statuesque woman in a green caftan approaches us the second we step inside the shop where mannequins pose around the space wearing bridal gowns in varying shades of white. It’s all very creepy couture. One immediately catches my eye. A sleeveless, form fitting lace dress that flares mid thigh into an elegant fairytale of tulle.
The woman introduces herself as Loretta and instructs us to follow her into a private area in the back.
“I’m going to dip into the restroom,” I say as soon as we’re settled into a little area of the store meant only for us.
“I’ll just be grabbing some different styles in your size,” Loretta says.
“Thank you. I’ll just be a minute.” Gabriel takes a seat in a leather chair and I leave, backtracking toward the restroom sign we passed on our way here.
Once I’m safely inside the bathroom with the door locked, I read the message. “I’ve found a way out for you,” is all it says.
My hands fly over my phone, texting him back. “I don’t need a way out.”
A way out where? I can’t leave. I can’t uproot Tennyson.
What I need is for this wedding to happen as soon as possible.
Ronin texts back, “You need to get out of there.”
I type back a simple, “No.”
I stare at myself in the mirror. For the most part, I look the same but everything has changed inside. I feel like a different person. Last month, my life was normal, boring even. Now, it’s a whirlwind of madness. It’s a turbulent mess, and I definitely won’t be the same person by the time this is over next year.
Only a few more days and I’ll be a married woman.
I’ll be a Prince.
Ronin’s words scare me, and I debate if I should tell Gabriel what he’s said.
I gloss my lips, and head back into the store. As I walk through the shop, I decide I won’t be telling Gabriel. I’m not completely ready to trust a Prince.
How can I?
Even though Gabriel is a good man, he still has that Prince blood running through his veins.
When I return, Loretta has a rack of dresses ready for me. The one I like is not on it.
“I’m back,” I say.
“Perfect,” Loretta says with a smile. “This is your changing room over here.” She points to a white door with “Fantasy Suite” written on it. “This is where all your fantasies come true.” Gabriel smirks. “And you can just keep trying on as many as you like.” She opens the door and hangs a few dresses inside. “And just let me know if you need any help.”
“Thank you. I will.”
“Go try them on,” Gabriel urges.
I sequester myself in the large dressing room, and slip out of my sundress. The first gown, I nickname ‘Ruffles.’
It’s a white poofy mess and my head looks tiny sticking out of the top of this thing. I can barely move, and it reminds me of a giant marshmallow.
I crack the door open. “I’m not coming out in this one,” I call out of the room.
“Can’t be that bad. Let me see,” Gabriel says back.
I take a deep breath. Here comes the bride, all dressed in lies. I step out of the room, and Gabriel takes one look at me and laughs.
“Yeah, that’s not the one. You look like a cloud.”
“Isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see his bride in her wedding dress before the wedding?” Loretta asks, reappearing with a chastising tsk in her tone that we are breaking tradition.
My eyes meet Gabriel, and for one split second I forget this wedding is already doomed with the divorce date set in stone. Bad luck couldn’t ruin our marriage even if it tried.
“It’s fine. We’re not superstitious.” Besides, these aren’t the one I want anyway, so if I were superstitious, and we weren’t doomed, I’m good.
Loretta chews the side of her lip and then lets out a little sigh. “Ok. I’ll be near, if you need me.”
“Thank you,” Gabriel says. “We’ll let you know.”
She leaves and Gabriel’s eyes meet mine. “Let me see the next one,” he says.
I turn back, re-entering the luxurious dressing room. Before I can shut the door, Gabriel’s foot keeps it from closing.
“Let me help you,” he whispers, sending chills racing up and down my spine. “My cock has been rock hard since we stepped into this shop.”
“Loretta turning you on that much?” I joke.
Gabriel smiles, locking the door, and spinning me around to unzip my dress. “I crave you, Clementine. I fucking crave you.”
His words turn me on, and I try not to think about the fact the Prince men will be the ruin of me. He stares at me in the reflection of the mirror, removing the ruffled dress.
His hand wraps around my neck, his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them. “If you knew where Ronin was, you’d tell me, right?”
I swallow, never breaking eye contact. “Yes,” I whisper.
He kisses the back of my neck, his hard on pressing into the backside of me. “You’d tell me if he contacted you, right?”
“He’s in town. He’s been messaging me,” I confess, no longer able to keep secrets from this man.
His head rises, his eyes once again meeting mine. “What has he told you?”
“He says I need to leave.”
Gabriel basically growls at my words. “And what did you say?” He pushes his hardness against my ass. “Do you want to leave?”
I shake my head. “I said no.”
“Good.” Gabriel unzips his dress slacks. “I love your sweet ass.” He turns me toward a wing-backed chair in the room. “Bend over.”
I clasp the arms, spreading my legs so he can enter me from behind.
“Ah,” he groans out, pushing inside. “Your pussy is always so ready for me. Always so hot for me.”
I can’t believe we’re doing this here. What if Loretta comes back? All thoughts about how wrong this is leave my mind the moment Gabriel sinks his teeth into my shoulder, something I’m learning is his signature move. I love it.
I reach behind me, trying my best to touch him in any way I can as he fills me up with his dick.
“I love fucking you.” He leans in close to my ear. “Are you a good girl for me?”
I nod, our eyes meeting in the reflection of the mirror. “Yes, I’ll do anything you want me to do.”
“You’ll let me fuck you anytime I want?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll let me fuck you anywhere?” His dick slams into me, making me almost lose it all for him.
“Yes, Gabriel. Anywhere.”
His speed picks up, his body moving at a rapid pace as he pushes his cock deeper inside me.
It’s insanity that Gabriel is here in this dressing room fucking me. He brings this out in me. He brings me to the edge of sanity. Causing me to go wild with need.
“Gabriel, I’m going to come.”
I no longer care we’re in a dress shop. I no longer care people might hear us. I no longer care about anything in the world but reaching my climax with this man inside me. I’ve never felt anything like this feeling blooming in my chest before. It’s indescribable, something I can’t even put into words. It’s more than me. It’s so much more than him.
“Come on me, Clementine. Make me come, baby.” He pumps into me until we’re both a bunch of breathy moans and loud grunts. Until we’re both riding out our orgasms holding onto one another.
It’s beautiful and dirty all at the same time.
Gabriel wraps his arm around my waist, to hold me up. Little does he know, I’ve already fallen. I’ve already fallen more than one person can fall. I’ve fallen a whole infinity of depths. I’ve fallen so madly in love with him.
I want to curse myself for letting it happen.
But, it did happen. It has happened. It’s something I won’t ever be able to control for the rest of my life. Because it’s a breathing, living feeling. Something that moves and exists all on its own. It’s something I can no longer control.
A
love that has turned me into something I barely recognize anymore. Something that has made me happy.
And I can only pray it stays that way.
SEVENTEEN
Gabriel
* * *
I’LL NEVER GET TIRED of fucking her pussy. I can say that with absolute certainty. I kiss her once more before I slip out of the dressing room.
While I wait to see the next dress, I take a seat and shoot off a text to Dean. “Ronin’s close.”
Dean answers back. “We’ve found him.”
Before I can even call him, Clementine steps out of the room in something that’s comparable to heaven.
It’s strapless, and tight, showing off every curve she has. It’s sexier than anything I’ve ever seen anyone wear. Sexier than the dress she had on for the art gallery event where I had her riding my hand in the back of my limo.
“That’s it,” I whisper, forgetting all about Ronin and Blackstone. Forgetting about everything.
She smooths her hands down the lace bodice of the dress. “It’s ok.”
Our eyes meet, and there’s no lies hidden in them. I want her as my bride. Seeing her in this dress confirms it.
I stand from my chair, moving behind Clementine as she stares at herself in the mirror. “You look beautiful,” I say, swiping back her hair from her shoulder to place a kiss on the back of her neck.
“Gabriel, I...” she tries to say.
I don’t know what it is about her that consumes me. I kiss the same spot as before, digging my teeth in this time against her soft skin. Is it bad I want her all over again? Because I do.
Loretta interrupts us with a cough. Clementine glances at her through the mirror, never turning around. “I need to think before I decide.”
Loretta nods. “It’s a big decision.” She steps closer to Clementine, and they chatter away about alterations as I pull up my phone, sending a text to Dean, “Where?”
I want to know where Ronin is, and now.
“Is everything ok?” Clementine asks me as I slide my phone back into my pocket.
I smile. “Everything’s fine. I love the dress.” I turn to Loretta. “Do you have shoes for her?”
They move away, discussing shoes and jewelry and I clench my jaw, trying to hide my anger.
If Ronin thinks he can use Clementine against me, he has another thing coming.
I pull out my phone once more, typing out a text to Dean, “Set up a meeting with Ronin.”
I pay for the dress, and Clementine makes an appointment to have it altered. And once we get home, I sequester myself in my office to call in a few favors owed to me.
LIKE A HAWK, I wait and watch, ready to catch my prey. A man by the name of Johnny Mango, an associate of Dean’s, contacted us to arrange a meeting between my brother and me.
Tonight at the race track.
I weave through the small crowd, trying to blend in with my jeans and black t-shirt. I pull my Larks ball cap lower as my eyes roam through the gamblers standing near the track, searching for Ronin. I don’t see him anywhere. Dean drifts through the crowd, lurking, never far away.
The constant sound of the ringing of the gates opening and horses galloping drum through my ears. It’s hectic, and I scan the crowd once more.
“Hello, Gabriel,” Ronin’s voice says from behind me.
I turn to face him, and it’s like he’s aged a few years since I’ve last seen him, even though it’s only been a few weeks. “Ronin.” I nod.
The smell of mud and horses is fresh in the air as we take a seat in the grandstands.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” Ronin says, shifting in his seat to face me.
“Why didn’t you just call me?” I ask.
“Blackstone’s planning something.”
“No shit. What have you heard?”
Ronin shakes his head. “Nothing concrete. But I know Clementine isn’t safe. You need to let me help get her out of here.”
“To where?” My anger fires like a missile, aimed at him. “You have some master plan that you think you can keep her safe?”
“Well, it’s better than you parading her around.”
“Ronin,” I speak slowly, like I’m speaking to a five-year-old, trying to raise my voice over the cacophony of chatter and cheering surrounding us, “I have to marry her or I’ll lose everything. Where do you think that money goes?” I lean in. “To you?”
“She isn’t safe here.” His eyes are trained on the track, watching the horses gallop faster.
“It doesn’t go to you,” I continue, even though he’s obviously not listening. “You and I will both have nothing.”
“You’ve already cut off most of my credit cards.”
“And I can turn them back on with a snap of my fingers.” I snap my fingers together. “I just need you to let me protect my fiancee the best way I see fit.”
“Did you know she wants to leave. She told me so herself.”
I purse my lips together. “Lies.”
“You sure about that, little brother?”
My blood boils, raising my body temperature. I raise a brow at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She’s only pretending with you. She wants to leave. Let me help her.”
“Pretending?” My mind thinks about all the moments I’ve had with Clementine since the second she’s moved in. There’s no way she’s pretending. Is she?
EIGHTEEN
Clementine
* * *
THE LAST FEW days before a wedding are always a blur. A complete and utter haze of details, colors, and madness that culminates in one important day.
The butterflies flapping their tiny wings in my belly, cause a metamorphosis from fear to happiness.
These past few days, I haven’t had a moment to myself to even worry about a thing. Lana and I have been inseparable, planning everything to a ‘T’ to make sure the wedding goes off perfectly.
At my dress fitting, where I switched out the dress to the one he hasn’t seen, I had the realization that in just a few short days Gabriel Prince, the Gabriel Prince, will be my husband.
I feel guilty for not telling him the truth.
And now we’re to the night before my wedding, and there’s only one thing left to do.
I grab my phone, placing a call to Erin. “Can we come over?” I ask her. “I have Tennyson all packed.”
Because of the business of the day tomorrow, Tennyson is staying the night with Erin and Troy, and she’ll bring him early to the wedding.
“Sure, I may even have some wine. I bet you’re a nervous wreck.”
I laugh. “Guilty. Ok, be there soon.”
Tennyson and I head to my car in the garage, and we set off to Erin’s. It’s nice driving myself. A part of me just needs to be alone, to have a break from always having someone around.
A black sedan follows a bit too closely when I turn onto the main road. It follows me every turn I make. Gut instinct tells me it’s no coincidence. I step on the gas, trying to lose him once I get into town. He stays pretty close to me, and I scramble to get my phone out to call Erin. There’s no way I can lead whoever this is to her house.
I glance quickly for her contact, and bring her up. “Erin, I have someone following me,” I say once she answers.
“Slow down, Clem. I can barely understand you.”
“Someone’s following me.” It has to be Bishop.
“Drive to the police station down the street from my house. Pull in there, and wait until he drives away.”
“Ok. Good idea,” I say.
“Stay on the phone with me,” she says, reassuring me that everything will be ok.
My heart pounds and the sound fills my eardrums. I can barely hear anything she’s saying to me, but I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white, and keep going.
I hope she’s right. I spot the police station up the road, and I breathe a short sigh of relief. The car is still on my tail, but hangs back a bit.
I pull into the station parking lot, and drive toward the front door of the building. If I have to, I can make a run for it inside. I glance at Tenny through the rearview. He’s sleeping, with his favorite stuffed giraffe and yellow blankie in his hands.
The station is full of activity, with a few cops standing outside, chatting away to one another. They look over at me, but I don’t make a move. I just sit. And wait.
The black car doesn’t follow me into the lot. Instead, they pull into the mini-mart across the street. And now, it’s just a game of who leaves first. It won’t be me.
Hope whoever it is knows I’ll wait all night if I have to.
And so the game begins, and I try my hardest to see who’s driving the car parked across the street.
“Did they leave?” Erin asks, and I almost forgot she was on the phone.
“No, they’re waiting it out on the other side of the road.”
“Are you at the police station?”
Yeah. Oh, wait, they’re driving away.” The car speeds off, tail lights disappearing into the night. “They’re gone.”
A cop knocks on my window, and I tell Erin to hold on before lowering it. “Is everything ok, Miss?”
“I had someone following me,” I say to the man. “He just drove away.”
“We’ll do a drive up and down this road. Where are you headed?”
“Just up the street to my friend, Erin’s.” I hold up the phone, like that explains anything.
“I’ll follow you there, make sure you get there safe.”
“I appreciate it, officer.”
He smiles, glancing into the back seat at Tennyson, and then strides to his squad car.
“Erin, the cop is going to follow me to your place.”
“I’ll be waiting outside. It’s probably some crazy reporter trying to catch a scoop.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Ah, maybe you’re right.”
Fear is a funny thing. It makes you believe things that may not be true. A random reporter following me in a black sedan with tinted windows darker than the night is entirely possible. Or some paparazzi person trying to get a picture of Gabriel Prince’s future wife. I cling to the idea, because I’m too afraid to face the alternative. This is the life, and it wouldn’t be unheard of.
