When I wake, it is afternoon. My sleep has been exceptionally well, and after a quick visit to the restroom, I slip back into my bed. There is nothing better than a morning—or in this case, afternoon—in bed. Well, maybe if there were a wonderful lady between my legs licking me, while there is a glass of champagne in my hand, but not much else. Thinking about it?—
I let my hand wander down between my legs, where I softly caress the outer lips before I draw closer circles around my clit.
I close my eyes, and the moment I do, I see Mia between my legs, her tongue following my fingers as I command her action. I let the images come, as this might be the only way to release the curiosity I feel towards her.
My core flutters from my imagination.
I roll my hips against my touch as pleasure builds.
The doorbell rings—but I ignore it, Henry has been instructed.
I continue my endeavours to rub with my palm over my clit—suddenly, a knock on the door.
“Seriously, Henry?” I ask angrily. “I specifically told you no interruptions.”
“I am well aware,” he says, “But I also believe you might wish to answer this.”
“What is it, Henry? I am occupied.”
“Miss Phillips,” he says. “At the door.”
7
MIA
PLAYLIST: ROYALTY – EGZOD, MAESTRO CHIVES, NEONI
“Stupid, stupid, idiot,” I tell myself as I walk up and down in front of the door of Victoria Fitzroy’s house with its white poles, waiting for the driver, or whatever else he is to her, to return.
I have no fricking clue why I am here, and I regret the chain of stupid decisions that has led me here more with every second. Well, I do know, because stupid, stupid Bella made me.
The door opens, and I stop in my tracks as my heart sinks onto the floor.
“Please, come in,” he says, gesturing for me to enter. I carefully step onto marble flooring into an entrance hall. A round mahogany table stands in the middle of it, a bouquet of what would be at least fifty yellow lilies on it; above it, a golden crystal chandelier. I stare at it because, coming from a lower-middle-class household, this is an entirely different world.
Never, ever in my life have I felt misplaced like this.
This was a mistake, a huge, huge mistake.
Why am I even here?I curse at myself in my mind.
Now, I look at a painting with a frame that alone must cost what I earn in a year.
Just leave, the voice in my head tells me. But how impolite would that be? Disturbing someone on a Sunday, and then disappearing.
I am so stupid to listen to stupid Bella, and now I amstanding in a stupid house where I should not be, in a different world wherestupid me does not belong.
I should leave?—
“Miss Phillips.”
My mind turns off the moment I see her. Up on a massive staircase stands Victoria, dressed in grey wide-plisèe trousers, a black high-neck shirt, and a patterned jacket with golden buttons. She looks like she's just stepped off a catwalk, and I feel even more displaced in my knitted sweater and secondhand market coat.
Her mouth is tugged into a small smirk, with curious eyes that gaze directly into my soul.
“What a pleasant surprise,” she says as she walks down the stairs with a royal graciousness, not breaking the gaze into my eyes. I would’ve stumbled down the stairs and broken my neck if I attempted to walk down stairs without looking at them.
She reaches me, and I realise I have my mouth open the whole time. Humiliation spreads through me, and I close it shut.
