Waiting for a Prince

Waiting for a Prince

K.C. Wells

Island Tales Press

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Editor: S.A. Laybourn

Cover Designer: Alex Corza

Copyright © 2013 by K.C. Wells

All Rights Reserved

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: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in

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part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious.

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Material, is a model.

WARNING

This book contains material that may be offensive to some: graphic language, adult situations

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

Thank you for your purchase of this title. I sincerely hope you enjoy this read but would ask

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Thank you for your purchase of this title. I sincerely hope you enjoy this read but would ask

that you please remember that the sales of my books represent a vital source of income. If

you like my stories, please feel free to spread the word and tell others, but please refrain from sharing this book in any form.

If you see this book or others written by me offered on pirate sites, please report the

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Thank you for that moment of inspiration

when I glimpsed you in the mirror.

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Table of Content

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Available titles

About the Author

5

“I really feel sorry for that poor bloke.”

Mark paused momentarily in his task of dyeing the new hair extension pieces. “Which

bloke?” He was engrossed. Marie had already given him the evil eye twice that morning, and if

he didn’t get this finished, there was every possibility that she’d start with the ‘
there are loads
of wannabe hairdressers out there just clamoring to get into your shoes
’ talk—again. He gave a cursory glance around the salon. “What are you talking about?” he muttered under his breath to

Wendy. “We haven’t got any male customers in here at the moment.” He went back to his task,

irritated that she’d spoiled his concentration. Hopefully she’d take the hint and leave him to it.

No such luck. Wendy huffed. “He’s not a customer, silly.” She nudged his arm and

almost sent the bowl containing the hair dye into a dive over the unit. She made a noise of

insincere apology. Mark scowled and ignored her as he carefully sponged the dye over each

tress, taking extra pains to ensure it got even coverage.

“Look over there,” she hissed. “On the couch in the window.”

Oh, for God’s sake, woman, leave me alone
. Mark dropped the sponge into the bowl and

straightened, about to tell Wendy where to go, when he felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He twisted around. Yeah, Marie was there all right, her gaze boring into him. Oh hell, that was all he needed. He winced, preparing himself for the inevitable request for ‘
a word, please,
Mark
.’ Christ, he was hearing that more and more these days.

“Mark, can you come over here a minute please, sweetie?”

Sonia’s melodic voice carried above the chatter and the low, unobtrusive music playing

in the background. Mark could have kissed her, except for the fact that she had totally the wrong equipment. Avoiding Marie’s steely gaze, he hung up the hairpiece and crossed the salon floor

to where Sonia had just finished speaking with her customer.

“Mark, would you make my lady a cup of tea, please?” Sonia’s eyes twinkled. Yeah, she

knew exactly what she was doing. It was sweet of her, stepping into the fray like that, but Mark knew Marie would still have her pound of flesh at the end of the day. Sonia leaned lower to

speak to her customer. “Milk and sugar?”

The woman in the chair gave a bored nod. “Just milk, please.” Mark met her gaze in the

mirror and smiled politely. She rolled her eyes and gave her attention to the celebrity magazine 6

mirror and smiled politely. She rolled her eyes and gave her attention to the celebrity magazine on her lap while Sonia readied the shiny strips of foil required for the hair color. Mark studied the woman, who seemed to be in her early twenties. He estimated that she would have been

quite pretty, but for the hard lines around her mouth and that crease between her eyes. Her lips were thin, not a sign of a happy person in Mark’s experience. He couldn’t tell what she was

wearing due to the black salon cape which pretty much covered her entirely, but he glanced

down at her feet. Expensive-looking shoes.
A
ha.
Comes from money and treats everyone like
they’re a turd she’s just stepped in.
Mark didn’t recall seeing her in the salon before. Most of Hair Today’s clientele were down-to-earth ladies who always had a kind word and a smile for

the staff. And they certainly didn’t come with a ton of attitude like this one.

Sonia moved to the red leather sofa which sat in the window. Mark followed her

movement and his heart gave a jolt.
Oh yeah, baby
… The man reclining there somewhat

awkwardly was tall, maybe over six feet, which was just
perfect
, thank you very much. Mark bit his lip as he took in the earrings, diamond studs and a gold ring. His gaze traveled lower and he caught his breath at the sight of the man’s nipple rings, pressed against his white long-sleeved shirt. Not to mention the dark swirls of a tattoo hidden from view, but visible nonetheless.

Mark’s dick stiffened.
Oh honey, you are my idea of heaven
. Tending toward the skinny side of lean, with short brown hair, just how Mark liked them.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Sonia offered, kindly. “While you’re waiting?”

Mark’s future husband opened his mouth to speak but the woman cut him off.

“He doesn’t want a drink.” The harsh quality of her voice made Mark wince. She

swiveled in her chair. “Do you, Sam?” That crease deepened as she glared at the man.
God, she
could give Marie a run for her money in the bitch stakes.
He watched as Sam sagged even lower into the couch. “In fact, I’m not even sure why you’re still here.” Her eyes narrowed. “Surely

you have something else you can be doing.” She looked down her sharp little nose at him.

Sam dropped his gaze to the floor. Mark could understand that reaction. “No,

everything’s done for the day.” God, even his
voice
was dreamy. “I’ll just sit here, if that’s okay, and wait till you’re done.” A pair of blue eyes came into view and Mark felt his knees go weak.

“But actually, I
would
like a cup of tea, if it’s no trouble. Milk with two sugars.”

It took a second or two for it to register that Sam was addressing Mark. Flustered, Mark

gave a quick nod, knowing full well his cheeks were already heating up. Why the hell did he

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gave a quick nod, knowing full well his cheeks were already heating up. Why the hell did he

always have to blush so easily? He escaped thankfully into the little room behind the reception desk and set about making two cups of tea. While he waited for the kettle to boil, he had a

surreptitious glance through the open door at the gorgeous specimen.
Christ, he has long legs
.

They were encased in a sinfully tight pair of fashionably worn jeans. Mark couldn’t help taking a sneaky peek at Sam’s package. He let out a quiet whimper.
And he’s hung
. For a moment Mark allowed himself the luxury of imagining those long, lean legs wrapped around his waist as

he fucked Sam through the mattress, those blue eyes staring wildly up at him as Mark nailed

him repeatedly, that sexy voice begging Mark not to stop, to fuck him deeper. Then reality bit

hard.
It’s not gonna happen, babe. One, the guy is straight, and two, even if he
were
gay by
some miracle, Please God, no
way
would
that
Adonis be a bottom
. Mark shook his head. Reality really sucked.

Mark placed a cup in front of the woman, noting her studious avoidance of making eye

contact with him, and then returned to the kitchen to pick up Sam’s cup. He placed it on the low table in front of the couch. Sam glanced up at him and gave a brief tight smile. God, those eyes were even more heavenly up close. “Thanks.” The word was almost a whisper.

Mark flashed a quick smile. “No problem, hon.” His cheeks flamed as Sam arched his

eyebrows. He scooted out of there as fast as his legs could carry him back to the sanctuary of

the tiny kitchen. Unseen by anyone, Mark leaned against the wall, expelling the air from his

lungs in a long, shaky breath.
Way to go, Mark. Could you have
seemed
any more gay
? He gave himself a mental kick up the backside, his cheeks finally cooling.

“Why are you hiding in here?”

Mark almost hit the ceiling. “Fuck, Sonia, don’t
do
that!” She grinned. “I’ve warned you about sneaking up on me like that.” He clutched his chest and Sonia rolled her eyes.

“Get over it, drama queen,” she snickered. She poked a slim finger at his chest. “You

hiding from Marie or what?” That grin was pure evil.

Mark shook his head. “Not exactly.” He peered around her to see if Sam was looking his

way. OMG, he was staring toward the kitchen. Mark ducked his head back in. Sonia’s eyes

danced with amusement. She peered into the salon. “Son! Don’t look!” he implored her.

Sonia’s face lit up. “Ah, it’s like
that
, is it?” There was that evil grin again. “Does he push your buttons, sweetie?”

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Mark groaned. “Every single fucking one of them. What could only make him more

perfect would be if he happened to be gay.” Thank God he had Sonia to talk to at work. The fact that Mark was gay was no big deal to her and he always felt totally at ease around her. The rest of the girls made all the right noises, but Mark could tell when someone was genuinely

comfortable being around him. And as for Marie… The fewer dealings Mark had with her, the

better. Too bad she was his boss.

“You can’t hide out in here all the while she’s having her hair done,” Sonia reasoned. “If

Marie catches on…”

She didn’t have to say another word. “Okay, okay, I’m going,” he grumbled. Back to his

hairpieces. He trudged out of the kitchen and back to the center unit, keeping his eyes away

from the ex-future husband who sat drinking tea. Mark caught Sonia’s sympathetic expression

as she returned to her client and he shrugged.

For the next hour Mark struggled to keep his mind on the job. It was as though invisible

strings kept tugging at his head to turn it toward the window, no matter how hard he fought to

concentrate on his mundane task. Each time Marie passed by, however, Mark kept his head

down, fervently hoping she saw how caught up he was in his work. But once she’d gone, there

was that urge to look at the perfect straight guy just one more time.

“He your type then?”

Mark looked up to find April standing next to him, her arms loaded down with clean

towels, her jaw in constant motion as she worked on yet another stick of chewing gum. Mark