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‘Edward,’ The masked man said as he turned away form Miranda. ‘How are you?’ ‘Fine, Fine,’ The King said as his eyes fell upon the crying girl. Now that was last thing he would expect to see in this house. He hadn’t seen another human being with Eric in over 10 years. Miranda sniffed and tired to stop crying, as she stared at the man who was identified as the King of England. She slowly stood up to curtsy, but her dress fell, exposing her thin material clade breasts. ‘Oh,’ she gasped as she pulled the dress up, then made a really sloppy curtsy. The King smiled at her, then looked back at his friend, his eye brows raised. ‘Christ,’ Eric swore as he moved over to Miranda, turned her around roughly, and started to do up her dress. Then whispered in her head, ‘This is not over, little one.’ She started to cry again. ‘Bloody hell,’ he cursed as he turned her and pulled her to his chest. ‘Quit crying. The fuckin’ King is here.’ ‘Eric,’ the King warned. ‘Let the girl go.’ Eric did as he. He helped me from my car and told me how beautiful and sexy I was and let me know he had been tailing me tonight, hoping that I would come back to the scene of our last encounter. He asked if I wanted to join him and a few friends at a party. Of course, I said yes and he escorted me into the front seat of his government issue Ford Taurus and we were off. He explained that some of his colleagues had gotten a hold of the tape made of our encounter last year (I didn't tell him I still watch my copy every once and a while) and they wanted to meet me. They were at club in located in a nearby swanky hotel. I didn't say a word.We rode in silence until reaching the hotel. He opened my door like a true gentleman and the visible bulge in his pants said a thousand words. We walked into the hotel, his arm gently leading me by mine and turned into the club entrance. The music was pumping but the place was relatively empty. He must have noticed my wonderment as to the empty club (usually a hot.
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