Dirty Prince

by Sky Corgan

  After lunch, Jack walked me out to a yellow Lamborghini. I did my best not to smirk. It wasn't a vehicle for someone who wanted to keep a low profile, and I couldn't tell if he was purposely trying to attract attention to us or if he was just trying to impress me. Either way, I decided not to comment on the car.

  “How do you like my parents?” Jack asked as we pulled out onto the highway.

  “They're nice.”

  “Good.”

  And that was the end of conversation until we arrived at his lavish mansion. Looking up at the towering red-brick structure, it was hard to imagine that this would be my new home soon. More a castle than a house, it was bigger than any single man could ever need.

  Like a perfect gentleman, Jack came around to open the door for me. Then he took me by my hand and led me up the walkway.

  “Soon, I'll be carrying you over this threshold.” I could hear the smile in his voice as he ushered me inside, and a faint warmness entered my heart from his sweet words. How could a man this outwardly gentle and courteous have such dark fantasies?

  Jack took me on the grand tour, showing me all ten bedrooms, his home theater, game room, home gym, indoor swimming pool, and even a small bowling alley. It seemed a bit excessive, definitely built for the needs of a bachelor who likely entertained guests frequently. My mind swam with images of the two of us enjoying all of those rooms together once we were married.

  Finally, he led me to a door with a keypad next to it. Jack gazed at it nervously, stuffing his hands in his pockets before turning his eyes to mine. “This room, I'll show you when you get back from the school.”

  “It's a dungeon, isn't it?”

  My boldness caught him off guard. “Yes, it is.”

  “Then you might as well show me now. I already know what it is. There's no point in hiding it from me.”

  Jack's cool disposition was suddenly rattled. It would have made me smile if not for the seriousness of the situation. The contents of the room would give me a better idea of what he would expect of me, and I needed to see it so that I could psychologically prepare myself for when I returned.

  Jack hesitated for a moment before entering the passcode into the keypad. The door slid open soundlessly, and he leaned in to turn on the light.

  I did my best to still my nerves as I stepped inside. The dungeon looked like something straight out of a horror movie, with manacles hanging from the walls and ceiling. There was a wooden sawhorse upholstered with rich black leather in one corner of the room. In another, was a stockade with a t-bar. I could only assume that it was meant for the person to be restrained while bending over. Against the back wall was a queen bed. It would have been the only innocent looking piece of furniture in the room if not for the steel shackles that were welded onto the bed posts.

  “What do you think?” Jack asked as he watched me cross the room to look at the wall that had a rack of paddles, riding crops, and whips neatly displayed on it.

  I sighed, searching for the right words to say that wouldn't offend him or make our time in the room any more awkward. “I don't know what to think.”

  “I realize that it's a bit overwhelming for you.” He cautiously stepped up behind me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. My body instantly tensed at his touch. “But we'll be happy together. I promise.”

  How could he make such a promise without even knowing me? It was like saying that a lion could co-exist peacefully with a lamb without knowing the true nature of the beasts. One predator, the other prey. I knew which animal I felt like at that moment.

  “I scheduled your flight for Sunday,” he said matter-of-factly, dropping the loving fiancé act but still sounding gentle. “You'll arrive in Sacramento where a limousine will take you to the facility in Napa Valley. It's a private place. Very quaint and beautiful. Nestled among grape vines and rolling hills. I think you'll enjoy the ambiance. I know I did when I toured the place.”

  “You toured the place?” I wasn't sure why I sounded surprised. My mind was muddled with shock that I was leaving so soon, among other things. It was yet another surreal moment that my brain was having a difficult time coping with.

  “Of course I did. There's no way I would send you to a school without approving it myself first.” Jack hugged me tenderly, and for some reason, I did find it comforting.

  “Everything is happening so fast. I didn't expect it to be like this,” I admitted.

  “What did you expect it to be like?”

  I was too embarrassed to tell him the truth. Perhaps it wasn't what I had expected, but it was what I had hoped for—that Jack would be like Liam, sweet and romantic, but with a bit more money and style. I had imagined that he would wine and dine me, sweep me off of my feet and romance me like a fairytale princess. I had imagined us sitting up late at night, telling each other stories of our childhoods—relating on so many levels to growing up wealthy and over protected. I had hoped that Jack would be a kindred spirit—the man of my dreams—the perfect husband.

  “I don't know what I expected,” I told him finally.

  Jack knew it was a lie but didn't press any further. “Let's get out of here,” he whispered. “I would not see you frown a second longer.”

  We left the dismal dungeon and headed out onto the road for some sight-seeing. Everywhere we went, I could feel eyes on us, analyzing our relationship. The paparazzi made an appearance when we toured the Statue of Liberty, and I did my best to seem as poised as possible. Jack was more than willing to pose for the cameras, gathering me up in his arms and placing a confident kiss on my cheek, as if we had already spent a lifetime together. I admired the way he catered to the media, always polite no matter how invasive they became. I only hoped I could hold myself together so well when they got me alone.

  For dinner, Jack took me out to eat at Masa, an exquisite Japanese restaurant in the Time Warner Center. The experience was fun and refreshing, considering that there were no menus to order from. We spent three hours receiving course after course of seafood, sushi, and truffle items. By the time we left, I was practically waddling, I was so full.

  “That was absolutely amazing,” I told Jack as we climbed back into his Lamborghini.

  “I'm glad you liked it,” he replied, simply staring at me.

  “What is it?” I felt my cheeks burning from his intense gaze.

  “I think this is only the second time I've seen you smile since you've been here.”

  “That's not true.” I was certain I had smiled plenty, so much that my face ached from it.

  “I mean genuinely.” The corners of his lip curled into a grin. “I can tell when you're faking it.”

  “How?”

  “Because your eyes don't wrinkle at the corners when you fake smile.”

  “Are you saying I look old?” My mouth dropped open in mock disbelief, and I could tell by Jack's expression that he seriously believed he had offended me.

  “No, I don't mean that at all—“

  “Jack, it's alright,” I cut him off. “I was just playing. I know what you're talking about. There's a muscle around the eye called the orbicularis oculi. It contracts when someone's smile is genuine, producing laugh lines.”

  He ran his hands through his hair. “Wow, beautiful and smart. I really hit the jackpot.”

  I ignored his sudden awkwardness. “Watching the sushi masters prepare the sushi was like watching a painter create art. It was a truly magical experience, and I greatly appreciate it.”

  “We'll experience many more magical moments together.” His tone softened.

  By the time we returned to Jack's parents' house, they had already gone to bed. He walked me to the door, pausing to gaze deeply into my eyes. My heart pounded from thoughts of every romance movie I'd ever seen. This was the part where the boy kissed the girl.

  I tried to steady myself, allowing my eyes to fall to Jack's lips. They were thin, with a short layer of dark stubble surrounding them. His breathing changed, and I noticed the slight movement of his body a
s he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It felt like an eternity before anything happened, and I tried not to seem too expectant as I stood there, waiting for him to kiss me.

  Almost too suddenly, Jack leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on the side of my mouth, sweet and innocent. I wanted more but didn't dare advance on him. It was his job to take charge. That's what I had always been taught, at least. A proper lady never kissed a man first.

  “I'll see you tomorrow,” Jack muttered before leaving me there dumbstruck.

  What a mystery Jack Kemble was to me. One minute, he was calm and collected. The next, he was like a shy little schoolboy on the playground. For someone who had supposedly been with dozens of women, he seemed clueless about what women actually wanted.

  I sighed as I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and letting my mind deconstruct the day piece by piece. Flowers at lunch, a ride in the Lamborghini, and a fancy dinner at Masa. Jack was obviously trying to impress me. And then there was the dungeon, the confident kiss for the paparazzi, and the not so confident kiss on the front stoop. It was strange to realize that he appeared to be more vulnerable when we were alone together, and I couldn't help but feel that Jack was hiding something from me, though I couldn't figure out what it was.

  Thankfully, I was able to get to sleep at a decent hour and woke the next morning in time for breakfast. I trotted downstairs with refreshed vigor. The more I thought about it, things were going fairly well, aside from the strange request for me to attend the BDSM school. Jack had been a perfect gentleman, for the most part, and I was certainly not unhappy when in his presence.

  During the week, Jack had to work at his corporation, so I spent most of the day trailing behind his mother, going to get pampered at the spa and planning the wedding. It quickly became clear that she thought it was her wedding, not mine, but I didn't bother to argue. There had been few things in my life that I had actually had a say in since coming to New York. Why should my wedding be any different? I resigned myself to nodding and smiling, giving my opinion when it was asked of me, and keeping quiet otherwise. These were the cards that I had been dealt, so I would play them with as much grace as I could.

  In the evening, Jack would pick me up for dinner. He would always take me somewhere over the top, like DaNeil's or GILT at the New York Palace Hotel. As the week progressed, he seemed much more comfortable around me, and I around him. We talked about his day at work, my day with his mom, how the wedding preparations were going, and changes I would like to make to his mansion whenever we were married. The only inclusion I specifically requested was a room where I could work on my paintings. My concert grand pedal harp could go in the living room next to his baby grand piano.

  Every night, when he dropped me back off at his parents' house, he'd give me a chaste kiss on the side of the mouth, and every night, I'd want more.

  The night before my flight to Sacramento, Jack arranged for an intimate dinner at his mansion. I was pleasantly surprised by the romantic ambiance as he escorted me into his dining room. The long mahogany table was set with fine China, and dim candle light played off the walls from taper candles that were placed strategically around a fresh flower centerpiece. The scent of the blooms mingled in with the tantalizing aroma of cooked fish in a white butter crème sauce. Everything looked and smelled exquisite.

  “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Jack asked before taking a sip of Chenin Blanc. The dry white wine wasn't particularly to my liking, but I did my best to pretend, nursing my glass with little enthusiasm towards it.

  “Of course I am,” I replied. “To be honest, I don't have much experience with things of a sexual nature.”

  “Well, being a virgin, I would assume not,” he paused. “I called the school and personally went over your curriculum with them and approved all of your classes, had them take out the ones that you won't need, and replace them with ones that I thought would benefit you.”

  “So, what classes do you think will benefit me?”

  “You'll just have to wait and see.” A mischievous grin crossed Jack's face.

  “So mysterious, you are, Mister Kemble. Naturally. I am curious though why you have a BDSM fetish.” I poke at my fish with my fork.

  The tension in the room was palpable as he tensed up, and I almost immediately regretted asking the question. If I wasn't to see Jack again for an entire week, I didn't want our last night spent together to be awkward.

  “I'll tell you after we're married,” he replied in a tone that suggested I should not press the subject further. Still, it felt like he was hiding too much, and the longer I sat in his presence, the more it nagged at me.

  “You know, I still don't feel comfortable about being sent off so soon after arriving here.”

  “It's a little late to back out now.”

  “I'm not planning on backing out. I would just like more of an explanation as to why this is necessary.”

  His voice rose a notch, “I already told you why it's necessary.”

  We spent the rest of the meal in silence. While my mind was swimming with questions, I knew better than to irritate Jack with them. The mood had already been soured, and I had no idea how to fix it.

  That night, I missed Liam more than I ever had before. How I longed to be wrapped in the comfort of his strong arms with my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

  As my mind raced on past midnight, my desperation for something familiar grew. Though I had told myself that I wouldn't speak to Liam again until after the wedding so as not to cause drama between Jack and me, my need for him was overwhelming. I turned my bedside table light on and reached for my phone, taking a deep breath before I pressed the button that would dial Liam's number.

  The phone rang twice before Liam answered, his voice filled with concern. “Melita, what is it? What's happened?”

  At first, I was startled by his reaction, but then I remembered the time.

  “I just miss you,” I whispered, trying to hide my despair.

  “I miss you too. But it's so late; I thought something had happened.”

  “I'm sorry. I just needed to hear your voice.”

  His tone steadied. “Is it bad there?”

  It took everything in me to hide my overwhelming emotions. “It's not bad, just different.”

  “I don't think you'd call me at nearly two in the morning for different.”

  “The wedding is just stressing me out. There's so much to do and not a whole lot of time.”

  “You are the absolute worst liar in the world. Do you know that?”

  “I don't want to talk about what's wrong right now. I just want to . . . listen to you breathe, and hear your voice. I have nothing here that reminds me of home. No one to turn to for comfort. I just . . . need you right now.”

  “I can be on my way in an hour.”

  Family, I reminded myself. You're doing this for your family. You have to stay strong for your family. Everything will work out in the end. It always does.

  “I'm sorry to have called you so late. Everything's fine. I just . . . wanted to hear your voice. We should both get to bed. I have another big day tomorrow,” I said solemnly.

  “Are you sure you don't need for me to come get you?”

  “No. I'll be fine.” I wanted to tell him that I loved him, but even though it was true, it would feel like a betrayal to Jack, so I ended the conversation on a simple goodbye before hanging up and letting my tears carry me away to dreamland.

  At eight in the morning, my phone alarm woke me with a start. My flight was set to leave at 10:45 AM and Jack didn't arrive any earlier than needed to load my luggage into the trunk of the limo and be on our way.

  The drive was nice and quiet, partly because I was still half asleep and partly because there didn't seem to be anything left to say. It was far too late for me to back out.

  “I can't go with you into the airport,” Jack told me as we pulled up to the drop-off area. It was best that the paparazzi didn't know that Jack
Kemble was sending his bride-to-be off to some kinky fetish school. The tabloids would have a field day with that information. “I promise that things will be different when you get back. Better. You'll see,” he tried to reassure me.

  Before I left the limo, I was given one of Jack's trademark kisses on the side of the mouth, and I could feel a strange sense of intimacy radiating from him, as if at that moment, he considered trying for more. The thought made my heart beat faster, even though I wasn't sure if I wanted him to kiss me full on the lips or not. Part of me felt like he hadn't earned it yet.

  The flight to Sacramento was long and exhausting. Thankfully, I was able to sleep through most of it. By the time I arrived at the Sacramento airport, gathered my bags, and was in the limo headed toward Napa Valley, it was already eight o'clock at night. The only thing I had been looking forward to about the entire trip was seeing the Napa Valley wine country, and it was the one thing I was denied. I scowled into the darkness. Oh well, there was always the drive back.

  After what felt like forever, the limo finally turned off of the highway and began snaking up a private driveway. We pulled up to a building that appeared to be a small resort. There were no signs on the outside to indicate the type of business, and for a moment, I wondered if I had been driven to the wrong place by mistake. Secretly, I wouldn't have minded. This place certainly looked a lot more inviting than the dingy building I had pictured inside my head.

  “Here we are, ma'am,” the driver said as he opened the door for me.

  “Where's here?” I asked curiously, looking towards the doors to the resort.

  “The Napa Valley Body Awareness Resort.”

  Just then, an elderly gentleman in a suit and tie came out to greet me. “You must be Miss Rickard,”

  “Yes.” I shook his withered hand gingerly.

  “I'm Master Neil. I'll be your instructor for tomorrow, but for now, allow me to show you to your room. You've had a long trip, and I'm sure you're tired. Have you eaten yet?”