Chapter 16

Somewhere Over Arkansas
Two Hours Later


I held my face in my hands, bent over my knees, fighting off nausea.
Michael had taken me from Paisley Park and Minneapolis so swiftly, he didn’t even give me a chance to pack, explaining that he’d send for my belongings. I had only stopped long enough to change into a blouse and trousers.
I was so glad that Michael had left Rusty in California, because I knew that he’d be chiming in after Michael’s every word with thoughts no one wanted to hear.
Ever since we had boarded the private plane, Michael had been voicing his displeasure with how I had been dressed while in Minneapolis.
Michael didn’t directly blame me for how I looked. He confided that he had actually blamed himself, because he had told me to follow along with Prince’s program. Well, he didn’t actually call Prince “Prince”.
He referred to him as “That Damn Man”.
“Michael…” I whined, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think that the outfit would bother you so much.” I hated to see Michael upset and I was afraid his pretty head was gonna explode with steam.
“Brynn…honey.” Michael brought my hand to his cheek and cradled it against his soft skin. I could feel the beginnings of beard stubble starting to sprout up.
“It’s just that I think about first impressions. You were dancing and singing with all those people and dressed like that. Brynn you’re such a nice person. That Damn Man had you dressed like…like…”
Michael’s deep, doe eyes squinted around the plane cabin as his searched for a word. “Like you were loose. And you’re not loose. You’re nice and sweet and lovely.” Michael leaned and kissed my mouth.
At the touch of his soft, plump lips on mine, I melted.
I completely forgot about That Damn Man.
“It’s just clothes. It doesn’t change who I am.” I whispered, leaning my head on his shoulder. He smelled like Heaven.
“I’m still your Sweetie.”
“I know. If I ever see That Damn Man again, it’ll be on my turf. My rules.” Michael nodded and pecked at me again.
“That must have been the most awful place. All that cursing and the clothing. Especially that Morris guy. What a loudmouth. And that make-up artist…Mindy? No offense, but she looked like a hooker.” Michael giggled to himself. “But then again it is Prince. Man can sing and play--I’ll give him that--but I think his idea of fashion is whacked. I should have known when I searched the web and found that he had a girl’s band that wore nothing but lingerie. It‘s sick. ”
Michael reached out and grabbed my hands, his large hands overlapping mine.
“I’m so, so glad I got you away from there. And I’m glad the children didn’t see that. That’s just a rude environment. Would have scarred them for life. Especially that naked picture of That Damn Man in the front hall. Just distasteful. It’s just…I missed you so much.”
Michael kissed my hands and ran his lips along my wrists.
…This is your Captain speaking. We will be landing at Los Angeles International Airport in exactly ninety minutes…Thank You…
“Now we can concentrate on going home, and getting back to normal life at Neverland.” Michael grinned and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.
“Yeah.” I replied softly.
Life back to normal.
If there was such a thing, with Prince tossed into the mix like a monkey wrench into the gears of a machine.
A machine called “Michael and Me.”
Neverland Valley Ranch
Three Days Later

“You look so beautiful…” Michael murmured into my ear, as droplets of warm water washed over our bare bodies.
I looked up into Michael’s lovely, deep eyes, as he gently pulled me against him, the mixture of water, perspiration, and fresh soap suds on his body combining with the same cocktail on mine.
I could feel the adoration and sweetness in his heart beating against my chest.
“We had some fun last night, huh?” Michael giggled, and moved his hands up into my hair, his long fingers pulling out the tangles in it.
My already hot body warmed even more against his.
I continued to stare up at him. I could only manage a nod.
He was truly a gorgeous sight. His long hair, normally straight, now dripping wet, fell in springy tendrils around his milky face, creased with a giddy grin.
Droplets all over his pristine nude figure sparkled like diamonds.
It was amazing that my heart still pounded when I gazed at him.
My mind recalled the events of the night. Michael and I had finally had some “alone” time.
Since I had gotten back from Minneapolis, I had been wearing three lovely little accessories: Prince, Paris and Blanket.
The children had tackled me when I had stepped into the main house, and clung to me, telling me how they missed me and loved me…
Not that I was complaining. I did love Michael’s children as much as if they were my own.
Michael’s trio followed their father and me around, all over and had even spent my first night back home slumbering between us.
After the kids had drifted off, a Three Stooges comedy short playing on the TV, Michael had confided in a shy whisper that he couldn’t wait to get those big hands of his on me. That the two weeks without me had been extremely difficult for him. That after a day and a half, he had wanted to come to Minneapolis right then.
And truthfully, I wanted Michael to ravage me.
Even though I had been with Prince and I did have feelings for him, it was Michael who was deep in my heart planting flowers of love.
I was doing my best to put Prince out of my mind.
He was a sexy mistake and I hoped I never heard his name again, unless the ‘Prince’ being referenced was Prince Jackson.
In just two weeks, I had almost forgotten just how talented a man Michael was. It was amazing to watch him put all his kids to bed--in their respective rooms--and come back to me.
He had given me another box of chocolate strawberries and we had slowly fed them to each other. I had even nibbled one out of the little dimple that was Michael’s navel.
Part of me had wanted to travel further south on the fantasyland that was Michael Jackson’s body, and partake of the treats that were God-given to him, but I held back.
I knew that Michael, even in the throes of passion, was a very conservative man and I knew that if I tried to do to him what I had done to “That Damn Man” he might have been turned off, or worse disgusted.
And I truly never wanted to upset him. I was still trying to recover from his distaste at Paisley Park. I never wanted to see that side of him ever again.
Michael was such a sweet lover. Sure I was tired after outrageous love making, but Michael never purposefully tried to hurt me, like another person had done.
Everything about Michael was gentle.
And I appreciated everything about him.
I glanced back up at Michael.
He was humming the melody to his song , You Are My Life, and still playing in my hair.
As soon as I had gotten back to Neverland, without being asked, I had straightened my hair. I had an inkling that Michael was pissed with my “Shirley Temple on LSD” look.
I knew I was seething with guilt and doing everything possible to appease Michael. (He didn’t even know what he was getting appeased for and I prayed Hail Mary’s and Novenas that he never would find out.)
But it was strange that just three days out of Minnesota, and trying to put the Purple Pervert behind me, he would start to rear his little head again.
As Michael continued to hum You Are My Life, a question started bubbling in me, and within seconds it bubbled out of my mouth:
“Do you mean that?”
“What?” Michael stopped humming and looked down at me, puzzlement on his sweet face.
“You’re humming You Are My Life…” I looked down at my toes and watched water swirling down the drain.
Michael sucked in his bottom lip, and I noticed that his ears, neck and down to his shoulders were glowing red.
He took my face in his hands.
“If I’m humming it…then it must be true.” Michael giggled and his plump rosy lips mashed mine.
I clung to him, a sudden want for him making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up stick straight.
“Daddy! Brynn!”
The sudden shout caught us a little off-guard and Michael actually bit down on my bottom lip.
“Ouch!” I laughed.
Michael touched his nose shyly.
“Sorry. Your mouth is so tasty, I lost control.” He chuckled.
“Yours is too.” I poked Michael in the little depression sitting at the base of his throat.
He giggled uncontrollably.
“Gosh!”
“Daddy! Brynn!” The little voice screamed again and it was so shrill I couldn’t tell which of Michael’s children it was.
“Just a minute! Daddy’s coming!” Michael called shutting off the water, and opening the shower door for me.
We quickly scrambled into robes and wrapped towels around our wet hair.
I opened the door to the bathroom and Paris, already dressed in jeans and a Strawberry Shortcake tank top, ran in.
“Daddy!” She exclaimed trotting in so quickly that she ran into me.
“Excuse me!’ She grinned up at me.
“What is it Honey?” Michael questioned, using one hand to hold the towel on his head and the other to pat her head.
“Rusty is downstairs. He says he has something really important to give you.” She gasped for air.
“Okay, you go tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes in my office. Can you remember that?” Michael patted her head again.
“Yes sir. Bye!” Paris turned and ran out the room.
“That’s what all the hubbub is about? Rust Bucket?” I giggled, taking the towel off my hair and starting to dry it.
“I guess so. It must really be off the charts if he sent Paris to get me.” Michael nodded, a worried expression taking over his chiseled features.
I followed Michael out the bathroom and over to his dresser where he picked up a pair of underwear and proceeded into his closet.
“I hope it’s nothing serious.” I murmured, my mind snapping. I just hoped that it wasn’t more court troubles.
“Hail Mary, Full of Grace…”
“Brynn, go get dressed, meet me in my office too.” Michael gave me a small push.
“Alright.” I turned and jogged away.
A while later I made my way down to Michael’s office.
Just outside the door, I could hear Michael and Rusty conversing.
“This came for me?” I heard Michael ask, disbelief highlighting his voice.
“Actually for you and Brynn.” Rusty assured Michael in a calm tone.
Upon the announcement of my name, I opened the door.
I looked over Rusty who was reclining in an arm chair as if he owned the place.
Michael sat bolt upright, clutching a large beige manila envelope.
“Is everything okay?” I inquired in a low voice.
Michael glanced up at me.
“Sit down Sweetie, please.” Michael pointed to the other armchair.
I quickly took a seat.
“This…” Michael shook the envelope. “…came for us.”
“From Paisley Park.” Rusty put in.
At the mention of Paisley Park, my blood cooled about 30 degrees. Why would Prince send a package to Michael?
My heart raced. I hoped like all hell that it wasn’t anything that would expose what had happened in Minneapolis.
I nervously dug my nails into the wood of the chair as Michael flipped the envelope over and started opening it.
On the address label I could make out Prince’s purple ink.
It was actually addressed to “Mr. Michael Jackson.”
It was odd that he’d be so formal before blowing my world to pieces, chunks and shrapnel.
Michael pulled out what appeared to be a handwritten letter.
“Oh gosh!” Michael exclaimed. “He wrote me a note, and he used all those numbers and funny little drawings in it. Why can’t he write like a normal human being instead of in code?”
Rusty chuckled.
“What…what does it say?” I murmured.
“Let’s see.” Michael squinted at the page. He opened a drawer and produced a small pair of silver rimmed, oval reading glasses.
After popping them on, he began reading,
Michael,

Eye wanted to apologize for what happened at Paisley Park the other day. Eye had No idea that U’d react the way U did to that photograph of Brynn. At the time, Brynn didn’t seem to have a problem with the costumes. But since U were so unhappy with the first picture, Eye have decided to take it down and replace it with another 1. Eye hope that this 1 will suit you better.

Prince

PS--Eye enclosed a little trinket for Brynn that she left at my house.
“Hmm…” Michael tossed the letter down and dug into the envelope bringing out an 8’’x10’’ photograph.
“Oh gosh!” Michael exclaimed and his large dark eyes grew even larger.
“What?” I hopped up, along with Rusty and raced around the desk to see the photograph.
I vainly prayed that it wasn’t a photo of me in the black panties.
I quickly heaved a sigh of relief.
It was a photo of me in the blue/turquoise bodysuit. I was singing off into the microphone and Prince was behind me, zealously playing his symbol guitar.
“Holy shit, Brynn! Is that really you?” Rusty giggled, eyeing the portrait.
His blue eyes were even wider than Michael’s.
“Nah, it’s the Queen of England. Yes it’s me you block head! Rust Bucket!” I pushed him.
Rusty rolled his eyes, annoyed.
“Well I suppose this is better.” Michael sighed. “There is only one leg out. That other outfit looked like an embellished t-shirt.”
“Are you happy with this?” I mumbled, afraid Hurricane Michael might return.
“I’ll get used to it.” Michael gave me a weak smile.
“And what is that get-up Prince is in? He is strange!”
Michael continued to look at the photograph.
I could actually hear his teeth grinding.
“What’s the trinket that’s left?” Rusty wondered after a while.
“Oh.” Michael turned the envelope upside down and shook it.
The silver symbol pendant necklace that Prince had given me fell onto the table.
It glittered in the light.
“Oh no!” Michael’s voice was so sharp, he sounded like he was screaming through a straw.
“He sent you another one of these damn things?” Michael picked up the necklace and stared at it.
“Is that real?” Rusty questioned. Leave it to that snake to be think of monetary value at that point in time.
Michael paid him no mind.
“I don’t like these things at all!” Michael shook the necklace, his face turning scarlet.
“Michael, it means something spiritual. Prince told me that. He’s a Jehovah’s Witness!” I blurted, once again trying to soothe Michael.
Michael’s eyes were stormy.
Tapping himself in the chest, he announced,
“I was a Jehovah’s Witness for the first almost twenty-five years of my life. I have never in my life seen anything like this associated with my religion. You met my mother, Brynn, she wore a cross around her neck, not this…this…bullshit!”
With a low grunt, Michael hurled the necklace across the room.
It hit the opposite wall and landed on the floor.
Hopping to his feet and pointing at the bauble, he instructed,
“Rusty, you get that out of my house and off my property right now! I don’t like it. And make sure my children don’t see it. Paris likes jewelry and she might try to take it from you. I don’t want them to ever see that.”
Michael slammed his hand on the desk top, making both me and Rusty jump.
“Okay Michael!” Rusty scurried to retrieve the necklace. “Can I have it?”
“Pawn it, sell it on eBay, just don’t ever let me see you wearing it!
If I do, Rusty Ross, you’re fired! You understand?” Michael slammed the desk again.
“Yeah!” For the first time I since I had net him, Rusty actually appeared frightened. He was grey.
As quickly as Michael had gotten angered, he calmed back down.
“Thank you. It’s just I feel that symbol has something to do with voodoo or the occult and I’d rather not ever see it.”
Michael sank back in his seat, pale.
“Michael…” I touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Michael glanced up at me. “For what? You didn’t ask for that thing. That Damn Man sent it on his own volition.”
He smiled.
“It’s not your fault Baby.”
He grabbed my hand and kissed at my knuckles.
If only Michael knew. If only he knew.
I couldn’t bear to look at him and focused on the other being in the room.
Rusty was heavily inspecting the silver necklace.
If Michael really knew it was my fault, he’d have been singing a different tune.
All the while moonwalking and sidefloating on my face.
And some how, I knew that the necklace was only going to be the start of trouble from The Purple One.

Chapter 15

* * *

Studio D
Paisley Park Studios
The Next Day

“Oh, come on, why won’t you tell me who you’ve got lined up to play tomorrow?” I questioned, following Prince up the stairs that led to the stage.
“Because, I want you to meet them fresh for the first time in the morning.” Prince smiled at me impishly and led the way over to his large white grand piano. His symbol was emblazoned on the top in gold and all the white ivory keys.
“Now stop worrying about it. I want you to relax today. You went through a whole lot of stuff yesterday, and dragged me with you.” Prince smiled placing his hands on my waist and lifting me so that I could sit on the top of the instrument.
He then took a seat on the cushioned pianist bench.
I glanced around at all the instruments.
“Can you play everything that’s up here?” I questioned, pulling at the short skirt of the Black Watch Plaid dress I wore.

“Yes.” Prince nodded flexing his fingers over the keys.
“How did you find the time?” I giggled.
“I made the time.” Prince smiled.
He began to lightly play a tune.
A grin found it’s way onto my face as he opened his mouth and began to sing,
“I never meant to cause you any sorrow/ I never meant to cause you any pain/ I only wanted one time to see you laughing/See you laughing in the Purple Rain….Purple Rain…”
“I love that song.” I commented as Prince stopped singing and just played the music.
Prince chuckled. “I like it too, I just hate that everyone immediately thinks of that when they hear my name.”
“Be happy they think of something.” I chortled. “Better than them saying ‘Prince Who’?”
“True.” Prince ran his fingers along the keys, a discordant menagerie of notes spilling into the air.
He began to play Chopsticks.
As he played the silly little song, a sudden urgency made me blurt,
“Prince, what are we going to do when I go back to California?”

He looked up and tugged at the thick collar of the lime green sweater he wore.
“We’ll see each other again.” He said calmly.
“Yeah? How? ” I rolled my eyes. I could just see how well it would go over if Prince showed up at Neverland and started kissing and pawing me in front of Michael. That fist fight was sure to make headlines.
“There is such a thing as keeping in touch.” Prince said matter-of-factly.
“Oh and Michael won’t be suspicious if he sees a phone bill with a bunch a calls to Minneapolis. The only person I know in Minneapolis is you. And Michael’s gonna blow the roof off the place. I don‘t want to hurt anybody. I love Michael too. ”
“Quite a conundrum.” Prince was nonchalant as he stood up and kicked the bench back.
“Uh, duh.” I threw my hands up.
“But what if there was some way that you could talk to me, with out the big watch dog on your ass? Like if you had your own phone?” Prince winked at me.
“Where the hell am I going to get another phone from?” I whined and ran my hands through my hair angrily. “If I ask for another one, Michael will want to know why I want it and what’s wrong with the one I have. Michael’s not stupid you know.”
Prince dug around in the pocket of his lime trousers.
“Here.” He tossed a small purple object into my lap.
A cell phone.
I picked it up and stared it, the realization of the situation really hitting me.
I was really going to try to carry on two separate relationships. One man knowing about the other and the other knowing nothing.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” I shook my head, nauseated again.
“It’s simple.” Prince patted my shoulder. “Just keep that someplace Michael would never look and I’ll call you. You don’t even have to worry about calling me. And if you’re tied up with Mr. Sparkly Socks, just hit ‘Pound, 31’ and it’ll ring me back. You don’t even have to remember a real number.” He tapped my nose with his finger.
“But this isn’t the same as seeing each other.” I insisted. Why didn’t he seem to understand that once I left him, I’d be with Michael. At all times.
“I told you, we’ll see each other. I’ll see to it.” Prince nodded and pecked at my neck.
As he kissed my neck with hickey force, I just stared at the phone.
How and when would we see each other after Saturday?
Saturday was less than two days away.
And yet Prince seemed so cool, calm and collected as he always seemed, that somehow I felt a little safe, that everything would be alright.
That our little secret would be our dirty little secret only.
And it was exciting.
* * *
The Salon
Paisley Park Studios
Friday Morning
Mindy leaned and hugged my shoulders from behind.
I tapped her arms.
“It’s just nice to have a girlfriend of Mr. Prince like me.” Mindy sighed.
My head popped up. “What did you say?” I questioned sharply not sure I had heard her correctly.
“What?” Mindy let go of me and stared at me.
“Did you just say that Prince called me his girlfriend?” I stared into the mirror at her.
Mindy seemed taken aback.
“Yes…that’s what he told me this morning. Aren’t you his girlfriend?” She whimpered, clearly upset.
Looking down, I saw that my hands were clenched together.
“Yeah…I am his girlfriend.” I made myself say. “He told me he loved me.”
I still couldn’t believe it.
“I meant it too.”
I whipped around to see Prince making his way across the room.
I was breathless.
Prince was stunning in a light pink see through shirt, that was unbuttoned to the waist and tucked into matching light pink and navy blue pinstriped pants. The collar and cuffs of the shirt were pinstriped also.
Even his shoes were pinstriped.
His hair was sleek, straightened, and shiny. It bounced with his every movement.
A silver symbol glittered in his chest hair.
“Hi…” I said sheepishly. I hadn’t seen Prince at all that morning because he had departed at an ungodly hour to recheck all his instruments.
“Hello Mr. Prince.” Mindy said nervously jolting up straight. “What do you think of Brynn’s look?” She spun the chair around.
“Pretty so far. But she always is.” Prince grinned standing next to Mindy.
I blushed.
“Go on, put on the outfit. The band is waiting for us.” Prince helped me out the make up chair.
“The band is already here?” I asked as he walked me over to the changing stalls. I couldn’t believe that Prince was holding up a jam session for me!
It all seemed surreal. I wanted to pinch myself, but I resisted the urge. If I was indeed dreaming, I didn’t want to wake up.
“Yeah, all waiting to meet Miss Brynn.” Prince chuckled.
In a flash I was in my outfit. And it was certainly a ‘little bit of something else.’
My outfit matched Prince in that it was pink and blue pinstriped. It consisted of a rhinestone trimmed bustier, short shorts and tall boots with heels that had to be at least five inches high. The look was completed with pink gloves trimmed in blue fur. (I was certain that the fur was faux since Prince belonged to Animal Rights group PETA, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.)
I came out of the stall with a spin.
“So, how do I look?” I asked smiling at Prince.
Prince stalked up to me and put his hand on my waist.
“Too damn good.” He pulled me against him and bumped his mouth to mine. “It’s not fair, all that sexiness in one person.” He mumbled.
Poking his nose with my finger, I chuckled, “You’re pretty sexy yourself.”
Prince laughed and reached down and patted my bottom.
“Hold it Sticky Fingers. We’ve got a jam to do. We can do this later.” I warned pulling his hand off my bottom.
“Shit, forgot about it that quick.” Prince kissed my cheek again.
Grabbing my hand, he said,
“Let’s go.”
Prince led Mindy and me through Paisley Park down to Studio D, where Jimmy stood tentatively waiting for us.
“Jimmy, you ready to rock this mother?” Prince called as we approached us.
“Yes sir.” Jimmy opened the door and gave someone inside the OK.
Almost immediately, the opening bars to 1999 began playing with a flourish.
“Oh my God!” I giggled as Prince led me into the expanse room, Mindy and Jimmy in tow.
Up onstage, no instrument was unattended. Both keyboards were being played, drums pounded upon, and bass being peppered. The music filled the empty space, and the room was actually throbbing and reverberating with sound.
Prince’s White Cloud guitar stood on a stand behind the main microphone. It was the strangest microphone I had ever seen. It was gold and fashioned in the shape of a gun.
And I noticed that close to it was a plain one, and I knew was meant for me.
I was really going to perform and the thought electrified me.
As Prince and I made our way to the stage, a familiar figure darted from in front of it over to us.
Suki Yakamato.
Camera in hand, she stopped Prince and me, having us pose casually.
“Hi Brynn!” She then enveloped me in a warm hug.
I barely heard her over the music.
“Hi Suki!” I hugged her back.
Prince left Mindy and Jimmy on the floor with Suki and hand around my waist, led me up to the stage.
As we approached our microphones, the music dropped and began playing more softly.
Into his microphone, Prince screamed,
“Shut up already…damn!”
The music whipped to an end.
Laughing loudly, Prince pulled me close to him and kissed my neck.
“Everybody, this is Brynn!”
Everyone mumbled hellos.
I realized that I had seen all of them in Purple Rain. I was looking at the greater part of The Revolution.
Going around, the stage Prince started naming people,
“On both keyboards, you have Lisa Coleman….”
Lisa appeared to be somewhere near Prince’s age, with long wavy brown hair and was dressed casually in pink button down shirt and blue jeans. She nodded at me.
“…and Dr. Matt Fink…”
Dr. Fink was really dressed like a physician, right down to the green scrubs and silver stethoscope around his neck. He was actually kind of cute, with short cut light brown hair. Dark shades hid his eyes. He banged a few notes to acknowledge me.
“Bass guitar, Wendy Melvoin.”
Wendy waved. She wore a pale yellow sweater over green denim pants. (it actually worked!) Her hair was also brown, but in a short pixie cut.
I wondered if I was overdressed for the engagement, but on second thought, I knew that if Prince did something, like Mindy said, he made sure he did it big.
“And on drums, you know Morris Day.” Prince rolled his eyes.
Morris in a white button down shirt and bright orange slacks twirled his sticks and hooted, “Hey Miss Brynn!”
Still simmering over him coming on to me, I stuck my tongue out at him.
“Oooh!” Wendy laughed.
“Y’all ready to party?” Prince asked stooping to pick his guitar up.
“Yeah man!” The band agreed.
‘You ready to bring this house down?” Prince glanced over at me.
Feeling relaxed and happy that the band seemed to accept me, I replied,
“Let’s rock ‘til the police come!”
On the ground Mindy let out a whoop.
“That’s the spirit! Everybody, Gett Off! One! Two!…One! Two! Three! Four!” Prince announced and stormed into the song, everyone following suit, playing out the melody.
“How can I put this is a way as not to offend or unnerve/ But there’s a rumor going all around/That you ain’t been getting served….”
If only I knew that someone was about to be offended!

* * *

Two Hours Later


I was sincerely having the time of my life. Prince and his band mates were playing zealously and fervently as if the room was filled to the max with fans, rather than just Mindy, Suki and Jimmy.
But the effect wasn’t lost. Mindy was jamming around in her own little world, as Suki darted around snapping photos. Even Jimmy who was the pinnacle of restraint was snapping his fingers and mouthing the words to the songs.
Up onstage, I was fully loose, dancing close and against Prince‘s side, making sure to avoid bumping his guitar and ruining his playing.
Wendy, the only other player able to walk around with her instrument, was bobbing around and swaying behind us.
We were playing through all the taboo classics, Sexy M. F., Head, Cream…
And I was able to sing every note on key.
As Cream wound down, Prince turned to me.
He looked scrumptious. He was starting to perspire, but instead of looking all wet and gross, he was just gently glistening.
“You…” He pointed at me.
“What?” I smiled at him.
“I want you to lead the next jam.” His look was mouse laden.
I stared at him, speechless. Prince wanted me to lead one of his own songs!
“Which one?” I giggled, head swelling.
Prince cast a sly glance around the stage. Everyone was leaning earnestly trying to hear what he was going to say next.
Murmuring into his microphone, Prince replied,
“Do Me, Baby.”
“The song, or is that a request?” I winked at him, evoking laughter from the entire room.
“Maybe both!” Prince laughed and swatted my backside.
“One! Two! Three! Four!” He exclaimed and the band launched into the opening bars of the slow song.
Smiling, I wrapped my hands around the microphone, and sang luridly,
“Here we are…/In this big old empty room/ Staring each other down…”
I glanced over at Prince.
He was staring at me, fingers moving over his guitar absently.
“….You want me just as much as I want you…/Let’s stop fooling around…”
I removed the microphone from it’s stand and approached Prince, every step slow, seducing, momentarily forgetting that there were other people in the room.
“Take me Baby/Kiss me all over/Play with my love…”
I reached and rubbed his cheek.
Prince winked at me, a wicked look to his face.
“Oooh! What you do…I could never love no other/ You’re the best I ever had…”
Prince turned his guitar around to the back of him and wrapped his arms around me.
Looking up into his light eyes, I launched into the sordid bridge, a mix of erotic grunts and moans.
Prince’s mouth was coming extremely close to mine.
That was an invite I wanted to definitely RSVP.
I pressed my lips against his, both of us greedily smacking at each other.
Prince didn’t seem to know what a slow kiss was, but I wasn’t complaining.
The music slowed and came to an end.
A ripple of giggles made its way around the room.
“Maybe we should take five?” Lisa laughed over her microphone.
“Make it ten!” Dr. Fink suggested and everyone busted up.
Waving his hand playfully Prince spoke off into the microphone I was still holding,
“Alright, I think we should break for lunch anyway, y’all have earned it!”
Prince went over to his piano, where another purple notebook was sitting, and began jotting down orders from the group.
“I’ll go give Juan-Carlos a jingle.” Prince shook the pad and reached out with his free hand and grabbed onto my arm.
“Come on…I wanna talk to you.” Prince whispered and led me down the steps of the stage.
“Don’t go off and do anything crazy, I’ll be scared to touch my food!” Morris cackled as we made our way to the door at the end of room.
“You’re sickening!” I called as Prince and I exited the room.
Laughter followed us out.
In the blue hallway, Prince said seriously,
“You do some good singing and dancing,”
“Thanks.” I smiled up at him. “You’re not half bad either.”
Prince chuckled and wrapped an arm around my shoulders,
“You like the band?”
“They’re nice. The Revolution, right?” I questioned as we passed off into the Hall of Protégés.
“You’re learning.” Prince tapped my nose.
“I’m trying.” I giggled as we stopped under my photograph.
“We look good together.” Prince motioned to the picture with the pad.
“We do.” I grinned as Prince pecked at my mouth and cheeks.
“You know, I’m gonna miss you when you go Brynn.” Prince deeply confided, looking down at his shoes.
A warm sensation tingled through me. Prince really did care.
“You said that we’d see each other again.” I whispered as Prince pulled me against him in a hug.
Prince gave me a mischievous chuckle. “I keep my word.”
He looked down at me, a new light in his eyes.
“You wait here. I’ll go call in these orders.” He kissed my forehead and made his way into the closest office.

I turned and looked back up at the photograph.
I had no idea how this entire situation was supposed to work. It was like something in a movie. A woman carrying on with two men. I almost felt like Scarlett O’Hara being caught between Rhett Butler and Ashley Wilkes.
But unlike in the movie, where Scarlett didn’t really love Rhett Butler--only his wealth--I did love both Michael and Prince.
I twirled one of my curls as I tried figure out what to do. I just knew that even though Prince loved me, I just couldn’t possibly cheat on Michael any more that I had already done.
Even though I loved Prince, I loved Michael…more.
Mind spinning, I turned to make my way to the office to tell Prince that I couldn’t carry on a relationship with him.
I knew we'd probably have the largest shouting match the Northeast had ever seen, but I had to do it.
I stopped short when I saw a lone figure standing just inside the double doors of Paisley Park.
My breath caught in my throat.
Michael Jackson stood there looking up and around the building curiously.
He wore a long black trench coat over black patent leather trousers and black boots with silver tips and heels.
His hair, thicker and more lush than ever, cascaded over his shoulders like a black waterfall. Fresh snowflakes twinkled in it like stars. His eyes were covered by mirrored-lens, aviator style sunglasses.
A large pink gift bag was hanging loosely in his right hand.
“Michael?” I remarked, not truly sure it was him I was seeing.
At the mention of his name, Michael focused on me.
“Brynn?” He questioned softly.
I nodded, dumbstruck.
An ear-to-ear grin lit Michael’s face like a spotlight.
“Brynn!” Michael exclaimed and ran over to me, arms open.
He enveloped me in a bear hug, and began twirling me around in a circle.
“Oh Brynn…I’m so happy to see you!” Michael whispered as he set me on the ground.
Holding me at arms’ length, he looked me up and down.
“Gosh Brynn, you look so different!” He tugged me back against him.
“But still so lovely.”
“Michael…I can’t believe you’re here!” Was all I was able to squeak out.
All I could think of was how Prince would behave if found Michael hugging me on his property. Well, that Michael was even on his property in the first place.
Michael held me out again. “Surprise! I couldn’t stand letting you ride home on that plane all by yourself tomorrow. I wanted to be with you.” He tapped my nose.
“Gosh I missed you much!” Michael’s voice broke almost tearfully and I was enveloped in another hug.
“I…I…missed you too.” I wrapped my arms around him, for the first time noting his musky, woodsy cologne. It was so different from Prince’s almost feminine fragrance. Inhaling the scent made me forget about The Other Man and my grip on Michael became real. My True Man was there.
And in my arms. I didn’t want to let him go.
Michael sighed something; a little sweet nothing and pecked my cheek.
“I brought you a little something.” Michael grinned, taking his arms from around me and holding the pink bag out to me.
“Michael…you didn’t have to.” I gushed shyly.
“If you don’t take it, I’ll cry.” Michael poked out his bottom lip feigning sadness.
“Okay.” I took the bag from him and opened it.
Inside was a huge white teddy bear.
“Oh Michael.” I chuckled, lifting the bear out, letting the bag drop to the floor.
“He’s extra cold for you…” Michael commented.
“What do you mean?” I glanced up at him, not understanding.
“All that ice he’s wearing.” He motioned to the bear and for the first time I noticed that wrapped around the toy’s chunky neck was a necklace. On a long silver chain was a cross, studded with diamonds in various shapes.
My jaw dropped.
“This is for me?” I cried.
Biting his bottom lip sheepishly, Michael merely nodded.
“Oh my God!” I jumped into his arms, kissing at his neck.
“I knew you’d like it.” Michael laughed. “Here, let me put it on you, Sweetie.”
I watched as he took the necklace off the bear.
He kissed at my forehead as he looped the necklace over my head.
“Much better than that weird little symbol thingy.” Michael hee-hee’d and was hugging me again. “At least we know what the cross means.”
Still holding onto Michael, I got the feeling I was being watched.
Opening my eyes and looking through Michael’s hair, which was falling in my face, I saw that Prince had made his way out the office.
He was standing a few feet away from us, hands perched on tiny hips, his mouth twisted and to the side of his face.
His expression was clearly saying, “What the hell is this?!?”
My body stiffened, but Michael didn’t seem to notice, he was floating on Cloud 9 in the sunshine.
I could only watch wordlessly as Prince, face still contorted, sauntered up behind Michael.
He looked me in the eyes; I could see a flame in them. Surely anger and agitation.
What scared me most was that his facade quickly became placid as he raised his hand and tapped Michael on the back.
Startled, Michael dropped his arms from around me, and turned.
Michael and Prince stood a moment in silence, gazing at each other.
Sizing each other up.
I knew it was less than sixty seconds, but the silence was so deafening, it might as well have been sixty years.

The tension that almost instantaneously sprang up was so thick, you could have cut it with a chainsaw.
A sly smile appeared on Prince’s face and extending his hand, he greeted Michael,
“Hello, welcome to Paisley Park.” His voice was so syrupy sweet, I knew immediately it was a put on.
I looked up at his face and was shocked to see that Michael was also smiling at Prince.
A genuine smile.
I watched, stunned as Michael grabbed onto Prince’s hand and shook it.
Where the hell was the paparazzi when you needed them? It was history. The King of Entertainment and His Royal Badness shaking hands without knocking each other’s teeth out!
“Thank you for having me. I hope you don’t mind me popping up a day early. Like I was telling Brynn, I couldn’t bear the idea of her riding back to California on her own.” Michael put his arm around my waist, a clear sign of possession to Prince.
Prince’s eyebrows met his hairline, but his voice remained smooth as cream as he said,
“I understand. I told her I’d be sorry to see her go.”
I was sure Prince was hoping that he and I could do the horizontal tango before I left. So much for that.
“Of course.” Michael nodded, removing his sunglasses and depositing them in a pocket on his coat.
If he noticed that Prince and I matched, he didn’t mention it.
“So, have you two gotten along, or tried to kill each other?” Michael giggled, the sound filling the silence.
He was so innocent and clueless, and the thought made my head throb.
“Kind of like both, but we’re on good terms now.” Prince nodded, rubbing his chin.
His look was so deadly that if he stared at Michael any harder, he’d have been decomposing on the marble floor.
“That’s so good.” Michael grinned and thumped his fingers against my hip. “I was worried, she seemed so unhappy at first.” He nodded, hair bouncing.
Prince hovered closer to me.
“Well, I did everything I could to entertain her and make her happy.”
He glared at me. “Right Brynn?”
“Right.” I squeaked, holding onto Michael’s arm for dear life.
“Am I interrupting anything?” Michael wondered looking around the studio once again.
His dark eyes seemed so full of happiness, my heart ached.
“We were taking a break from our jam session for lunch. Would you care for anything Michael?” Prince questioned, glancing up at him. (Michael was a good head taller than Prince.)
“Oh nothing for me, thanks. I ate on the ride over here.” Michael nodded.
“You had a jam session? Did you finish the song you were recording?” Michael reached up and tugged one of my curls.
The tension was wearing me out.
“Yeah a few days ago. Still in the mixing process.” Prince placed his hands on his hips once again. “I plan to release it as an online exclusive. If it does well, I might drum up an album.” Prince shrugged off making an album as if it were something as simple as tying a pair of tennis shoes.
From what I understood, Prince had released an album a year, every year except for 1983. (I think he didn’t have time because he was starting to film Purple Rain.)
“That’s what I’m up to, also. Just writing some songs.” Michael looked down at his feet. “I’ll get to recording later on. I might put Not Over on internet release too. ”
I knew that he and Prince were calmly trying to one-up each other.
Trying to shift the conversation, I inquired of Michael,
“Where are the kids?”
“Back at home in California. They thought it was too cold here. It‘s about three degrees out.” Michael laughed. “They’re excited you’re coming home. They missed you.”
I laughed dryly and noticed that Prince didn’t even crack a smile.
“Would you like to meet the band?” Prince was as stiff as a board.
“Sure!” Michael grinned. He was so happy; my heart ached.
If he knew the truth, Prince and I would have been splattered all over like confetti at Mardi Gras.
“Follow me.” Prince struck out ahead of us, walking briskly.
I knew he was spurned.
Michael and I trailed behind quietly. I held my bear against my chest.
Probably to muffle the sound of my heart, beating erratically and nervously.
As we walked through the Hall of Protégés, Michael stopped so suddenly that I was yanked back a few paces.
“Mike?” I stared up at him and my blood ran cold.
Michael was staring in wide eyed wonder at my portrait.
“Brynn…is that you?” He questioned, breathless.
“Looks good doesn’t she?” Prince leaned against the frame, a self absorbed smirk on his face.
“She’s beautiful….but…” Michael trailed off. “That skirt is shorter than these shorts she’s wearing now.”
Prince changed colors and I looked down at my bear, embarrassed.
His beady, black button eyes stared back up at me.
“I tried accentuate the positives on her. She has nice legs.” Prince explained, his eyes flashing.
I was just trying not to have heart failure.
At the mention of my legs, Michael blinked and his forehead collapsed into a bundle of stress wrinkles. I knew he probably didn’t want other men to look at my legs. And if he knew that Prince had been all over and through them…Lord help us.
“I don’t think that’s appropriate. It’s shorter than I thought it was.” Michael’s voice was leaden.
I became aware of him loosening the belt on his coat.
Michael removed the coat, revealing a velvet shirt that was studded with silver bugle beads.
Draping it around my shoulders, he announced,
“I think it would be best if we left now.”
“Michael!” I stared up at him in shock.
He gave me a stern look, his demeanor telling me not to argue with him.
I was thoroughly surprised that Michael was so offended by the outfit.
I knew it wasn’t the style of dress he’d pick for me, but still, his swift disappointment was painful.
Like a sword through my heart and soul.
“I think she should be allowed to say good bye to everyone.” Prince raised an eyebrow arrogantly. It was obvious he was surprised that Michael was so offended by the picture. And he was drowning in pleasure from ruffling Michael’s feathers.
Michael turned his head stubbornly,
“Fine.”
The walk to Studio D was hauntingly quiet.
Upon entering the studio, all the chatter that had been going on, immediately and abruptly came to a halt, everyone staring at Michael.
Stunned expressions covered everyone’s face.
I’m sure they never in a lifetime expected to see Prince in Michael’s company.
Up on the bandstand, the only movement came from Lisa, who was smoking a thin red cigarette. She blew a smoke ring into the air.
“Everybody…” Prince clapped his hands, trying to gather attention that had already been garnered. “I want you to meet a friend of mine.”
I stared at Prince opened mouthed. He was calling Michael a friend. And I knew Michael was half a nanosecond away from knocking Prince’s color off for the photo.
“Michael Jackson!” Michael gave a stony wave.
Suki managed to snap a photo of all three of us before Prince hurriedly waved her away.
I gabbed onto Michael’s hand, hoping to soothe him.
His hand was icy, even though it was very warm in the studio.
He was sorely pissed.
As Prince went around pointing out people, Morris began banging on his drums.
I quickly recognized that he was copying the bass line in Billie Jean.
When Prince named Mindy last as my make up artist and stylist, Michael took in a breath so deep, I was sure he was sucking all the air out the room.
Mindy approached us, hand extended.
“Hi Michael! I’m a big fan.” She grinned.
Michael gave her a quiet once over and I vainly wished she hadn’t dressed so scantily. He probably thought she looked like a groupie.
He shook her hand tepidly.
“So you’re responsible for Brynn’s appearance?” Michael’s voice was so cold, Mindy actually shrank back.
“Yes sir…I’ve worked with her everyday since she got here.” Mindy nodded, trying to crack a smile.
Billie Jean continued playing. Wendy picked up the tune with her bass guitar.
“Hmm…” Michael rubbed his chin.
I had never seen Michael so stand-offish in my life.
“Did you also pick out her outfits?” Michael’s voice dropped an octave.
It was amazing he was so pissed, but kept his decorum. A truly classy man.
“Well…no sir…Mr. Prince did.” Mindy replied, shaken.
Michael crushed my hand so hard that I was almost brought to my knees.
“Prince picked out the outfits?’ Michael gazed at Prince who was staring at Mindy so fiercely she paled.
I was pretty sure she was out of a job on the spot.
“Yes.” Prince approached Michael and they stood so closely together, I was sure a knock-down, drag-out was about to ensue.
The music instantly stopped.
Ears strained, eyes watched.
“I told you, I tried to accentuate her best features. She looks nice.” Prince challenged.
Michael flicked his head, hair swishing. His ears were reddening with anger.
“She’s got those nice legs!” Morris cackled from the drum set.
Prince spun like a top. Pointing at Morris, he screamed,
“Morris, you shut the fuck up!”
Morris stared at Prince angrily, mouth puckering.
I glanced up at Michael, his mouth was set in a thin line. I knew he was angered by Morris opening that cavern he called a mouth.
Dr. Fink was the only person in the room who laughed.
We all knew that there was enough trouble brewing without Morris tossing in his lopsided two cents.
Michael placed his hand on my shoulder.
He was pressing down on it so hard, I could feel bruises forming.
“I think it’s time to go. Come on Brynn.” I knew Michael was totally fed up with the place.
“Good bye.” I said feebly, and waved, feeling a backlash of hot tears.
Everyone waved, and shook their heads, probably trying to make sense of what had just occurred.
“Bye.” Prince said solemnly, opening his arms, showing me he wanted a hug.
I glanced at Michael.
He gave a quick nod that said, “Get it over with, now.”
I very reluctantly went over and wrapped my arms around Prince’s diminutive body, taking in his floral scent one last time.
“Ooh shit!” Morris cackled once again and over Prince’s shoulder, I saw Lisa throw a still lit cigarette at him.
Letting go of Prince, Michael quickly escorted me out of the room where I heard excited chatter kick up almost at once.
I glanced back at the door and saw Prince standing there, a plain expression on his face.
He made a phone motion with his hand.
I knew it meant he’d call me soon and I blindly nodded.
I watched him until Michael and I turned the corner and lost sight of him.
What had I gotten myself into?

Chapter 14

Dance Studio B
Paisley Park Studios
Two Hours Later

“...I knew from the start/I loved you with all my heart/But you were untrue/You had another lover, and she looked just like you!/Bambi...!"
I twirled around in front of the large sheet mirror that ran along one wall of the expansive room as the song continued to blare over the loud speakers hanging in all four corners, music being fed to them from a large stereo on the back wall.
My moves, on the verge of sultry, were slick, clean, precise.
My memory of the lyrics were clear as a summer’s sky, though I hadn’t spent much time poring over the words.
Upon the completion of another spin, I stopped.
Studied myself in the mirror.
I looked pretty good.
Hot, even.

I wore an oversized red t-shirt with a close up of Prince’s face on the front in black and white and his symbol on the back. With the shirt I wore stretchy black short shorts and black strappy shoes.
The shoes were kind of a departure from my usual dancing shoes. I was more at home in sneakers as opposed to stilettos, but I was sure I’d be performing in heels.
My hair, still in loose curls were pulled back and out the way in a ponytail.
But even though I was extremely dressed down and casual to almost the point of boredom, an hour long meet up with Mindy resulted in my wearing my usual mask of cosmetics.
As the chorus to the song ended and the second verse began to play, I went back to my movements, singing along and trying to imagine what it would be like to be up on the stage full live sound enveloping us, Prince leading the way with a fiery guitar solo.

Thoughts of Prince performing along side me fueled me to jump of the edge of sexuality and I began to contort and twist my body in seductive ways, my eyes batting and the effort was paying off.
Prince was right: I was sexy.
Bambi segued off into another raunchy tune, Sexy M. F.
I had to admit, I was thoroughly enjoying the music, even though some of the themes were truly taboo.
Maybe that’s why I liked Prince’s songs so much--there unlike anything I had heard before.
Prince was being himself in his music and not apologizing for it.
He was just so frank and curt…
“…you sexy motherfucker…”
“Hot damn! Miss Brynn, you’re cutting loose like a goose!”
I misstepped at the sudden shout and nearly tripped.
Looking at the reflection at the mirror, I saw that a familiar figure hung in the doorway.
“Hi Morris.” I sighed placing my hands on my hips and turning to face him.
Morris gave me a wide smile, his large eyes bulging.
He wore an deep grey Zoot suit over a white shirt and a skinny red tie. Matching Stacy Adams covered his feet.
“So whatcha doing in here?” Morris sauntered over to me, the hinged door closing silently behind him.
“Nothing much, just tossing together some moves for the jam on Friday.” I shrugged.
“Yes.” Morris looked me up and down, eyes ever widening. “I caught part of that little dance. Not bad…nope, not bad at all.”
“What are you doing here?” I wondered quietly.
“Oh, Prince and I were chatting about who to have come play. Little things.” Morris nodded and made his way over to small seating area near the stereo system. (It was just a couple of overstuffed green couches.)
“Will you tell me who’s playing?” I asked following him and shutting the music off.
“Nah, brother distinctly told me not to tell you. A-Ha!” Morris chortled.
“You’re no good!” I giggled sitting on the arm of the couch.
“Hey what can I say?” Morris threw his hands up.
He glanced at me. “Do you dance professionally?” He muttered.
“No, I am strictly a singer by profession…why?” I cracked my knuckles.
“Oh nothing, just that you have the legs of a dancer. Nice and pretty. Always thought you had nice legs.” Morris nodded solemnly.
“Yeah, thanks.” I started to get an inkling that Morris was trying hit on me.
My beliefs were confirmed when Morris reached over and placed his hand on my knee.
“Your legs are so toned, damn.” Morris mumbled and ran his fingers up, across my thigh.
“Stop it.” I knocked his hand away.
“Oh come on. Get loose.” Morris urged in a whisper, giving me a sleepy, half lidded look.
“Um, no thanks, I got things to do. Dancing to catch up on.” I started to get up. Something was telling me to get away from this fashion challenged man.
“Now wait a minute…” Morris grabbed onto my wrist. “Can’t you spare five minutes to make a man happy?” He pursed his mouth and brought my hand to his lips, pecking it gently.
“Cut it out Morris!” I tried to jerk my hand away.
Morris tightened his grip on my wrist with a crushing power.
“Don’t you like me? Don’t you think I’m a good looking man?” Morris asked quietly, looking up at me, his eyes once again widening with faux innocence.
“Let go of me Morris!” I grunted struggling to pull myself away so hard that I was almost squatting.
“I think you’re a fine woman…so young and springy and fine.” Morris cooed, dragging me closer to him.
With my free hand, I tried to pry his hand off my wrist.
I even dug my nails into Morris’ hand. I could see droplets of blood springing up around my nails.
Morris seemed unaffected.
“Let go! I’ll scream!” I warned.
“You won’t.” Morris spoke softly and pulled me around the edge of the couch so that I faced him directly.
Morris reached up and placed his other hand on my hip. “AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!”
My shriek rang out and echoed throughout the room and caught Morris so off-guard that he actually pushed me away.
In the huff, I tripped over my own feet and landed on my side on the polished hardwood floor.
“I can’t believe you screamed!” Morris announced in a shocked voice.
“Damn it! I told you I would!” I gasped, trying to regain the wind that had been knocked out of me.
“What’s going on in here?” A new voice asked.
I looked over and saw that Prince was hanging in the doorway.
He looked like an angel in head-to-toe white. From his thick cashmere sweater and matching slacks to the white framed Versace sunglasses he wore covering his eyes.
A white gold NPG pendant swung at his waist.
“What are you doing on the floor? Did you scream?” Prince moved lightening fast across the room and crouched at my side on one knee.
“Yeah, I did.” I replied as Prince helped me into a seated position.
I gave Morris, still seated, a deadly stare.
“Morris, you let Brynn fall on the floor and didn’t help her up?” Prince’s face went blank and he stared at his “friend”.
“Well, man she went down so fast. I hardly had time to react.” Morris tossed his head and rolled his eyes. I knew he was trying to play off what had happened.
“Still, you should have helped her.” Prince’s voice dropped and I could tell he was stewing. He probably would have skewered Morris if he had known what was really happening.
“Are you okay?” Prince tilted his shades and looked over them at me, his hazel eyes flashing with concern.
“Yeah, just banged my wrist a little on the way down.” I held up my right wrist. The impression of Morris’ fingers were visible on it.
I saw one of Prince’s immaculate eyebrows raise quizzically.
“Damn.” He cradled my wrist and kissed on it. “Is that all you hurt, Pretty Baby?” He wondered.
“Yes Prince.” I smiled up at him, thankful that he had intervened.
“Gimme a little something.” Prince tapped his cheek with his fingers, once again indicating he wanted a kiss.
Wanting to one up Morris and make sure that the lines were clearly drawn in solid concrete, I leaned past Prince’s waiting cheek and pressed my lips against his.
Prince seemed a little surprised, and I didn’t blame him, it was the first time I had “pursued” him.
I grabbed his face with my hands and held in place for several moments, greedily smacking and sucking on his lips.
I peeked back at Morris as I kissed Prince; he was ashen, and looked miserable.
Brimming on the verge of arrogance, I pulled my lips from Prince and leaned back.
Prince was clearly taken, his face reddening. He chuckled deeply and rubbed his chin.
“You’re a little bit of something else.” He finally said and wrapping his arm around me, helped me to my feet.
“I know you’re busy, but I was wondering if you wanted something to eat. It’s about time for lunch.” Prince dropped his hand to my hip, the same spot Morris had touched and squeezed it gently.

“Sure.” I winked at him.
“Juan-Carlos made us a little something.” Prince led me to the door.
He stopped and glimpsed back at Morris,
“You coming?” He asked.
“Nah, nah, man, got no appetite.” Morris mumbled from behind us.
“Fine.” With that Prince escorted me out the room.

* * *

Prince’s Office
Paisley Park Studios

“This is yummy.” I giggled, spooning a thin broth into my mouth. “What exactly is this?”

Almost all the meals I partook of with Prince were vegetarian and I had a hard time determining what I was eating.
“It’s a bell pepper reduction. It’s supposed to be eaten cold, but I can’t stand it cold. I hope you don’t mind it hot.” Prince said quietly from where he sat on the other side of his large white lacquer L-shaped desk.
The entire room was done in white. Behind him was a big window and like in the Game Room it consisted of dozens of glass blocks that distorted the image behind them. Even his computer, off to the side of the desk was white.
“I like it. It’s good.” I nodded, eating more. “Did the bell peppers come from the greenhouse too?”
“Yes…” Prince trailed off as he ate a spoonful of his own soup.
“Tell me something Brynn.” He leaned forward across the desk, his leather chair squeaking.

“Did Morris come onto you in the dance studio?” His voice chilled the air.
“Um…” I looked down into my bowl as if it were the most interesting thing on the planet.
“Did he?” Prince repeated.
“Yeah…he did.” I said meekly. I waited for the fireworks to start.
“Do you like Morris?” Prince pushed.
“Not like that…I can tolerate him.” I continued to gaze into my bowl.
“Hmm…” Prince appeared to ponder my response. “Morris comes onto anything with a pulse, don’t worry about it, I think you kind of gave him the message you didn’t want him. Trying to suck my lips off. Got one hell of a mouth on you.” Prince laughed.
I chuckled, the mood lightening.

“Oh Brynn, while you were practicing, a phone call came to the front office for you.” He announced pausing to sip from a tall glass of iced fruit punch.
“A call for me? Who was it?” I smiled eating more soup.
I dropped my spoon with a loud plop when Prince replied,
“Michael Jackson.”
I felt my chest tighten. For a scant moment, I wondered if I was having heart failure.
“Michael?” I squeaked, feeling my entire body grow cold and lungs start to collapse.
“Yeah, Michael? Remember him?” Prince chuckled.

I gasped for air. I had forgotten about Michael! My Michael! The man I loved more dearly than life itself.
I looked up at Prince and a new, fresh worry began tearing at my soul. I had slept with Prince!
I had cheated on Michael Jackson!
The one man I had vowed to never cheat on. I had done the horizontal tango and was floating around Prince as freely as if I were his. And I wouldn’t have even been there if it wasn’t for Michael in the first place.
The room seemed to tilt and spin and I grabbed onto the side of the desk trying to keep from fainting away onto the shaggy rug under me.
And I had let it happen. I knew that deep down I had wanted Prince. The little bastard had seduced me.

“What…what did Michael say?” I was breathless.
“All the man said was that he tried to call your little cell phone and you didn’t answer it.” Prince leaned his cheek against his fist, a large grin covering his face.
I had left my phone in my room when Prince had carried me off to his room.
Like I really had the time to stop him and grab it anyway.
“Mumbled some shit about sending you a special gift on Friday. I think it’s dumb as hell to send something on Friday since you go back to California on Saturday.” Prince took off his sunglasses and set them on the desk, eyes fully rolling.
“And what did you tell him?” I tried to regain my composure but everything I spoke was weak as dishwater. I was certain that Prince had shot off at the mouth and told Michael about our tryst and that Michael was probably en route to beat me bloody.
“Just that you were rehearsing.” Prince continued to grin, a shifty glint to his eyes.
“Yeah…I was tempted to tell him I had you screaming my name to high heaven last night, but I stopped myself. That shit ain’t classy at all.” Prince flicked his head, a few strands of hair falling across his forehead.
“You…you didn’t tell him? About what happened?” I was truly shocked. I just couldn’t imagine that Prince hadn’t gloated. I dropped my head, a rush of emotions overwhelming me.
Fear, despair…
“No…” Prince pushed his bowl away and stood.
“But I still can’t believe that you fucked Michael Jackson!” Prince exclaimed started laughing. A loud, mind numbing whine.
“I can’t get over that. I bet I screwed rings around him last night.” Prince continued walking around the desk to me.
I looked up at him, my heart tearing.
“Is that all you think of me as? A competition with Michael? Another notch on your belt? Do you even think of me as a person?” I whispered, hurt and anger emerging. “Do you hear yourself? ‘I bet I screwed rings around him last night’?’ I climbed to my feet fists curled.
Prince stood, plain-faced. “Brynn…” He started.
“I don’t wanna hear it. I messed up. I should have stopped you last night. When you said you’ve wanted to do me since you first saw me. Should have busted those funny looking balls of yours and left.” I shook my head, my eyes welling with tears, heart twisting in knots.
“Brynn…” Prince began again.
“Leave me alone!” I pointed a finger at him, feeling nothing but a blaring distaste for him. It was stronger than when I had initially met him.
I turned and ran.
“Brynn!” I heard Prince yell after me.
I ran down the two staircases from Prince’s third floor office, past the front ones and out the front doors into the chilly air.
I was so consumed with thoughts that I barely even noticed the cold.
I ran to the end of the driveway and out the gates of Paisley Park.
I started towards Prince’s home with the intent of gathering my things and maybe trying to find a hotel to stay in until I could go home on Saturday.
It was eerily silent on the tree-lined road.
I couldn’t believe myself.
I couldn’t believe that I had been so awful to Michael. That Michael had trusted me with all his heart, loved me with all his heart and I had betrayed him. I felt lower than an amoeba on a flea.
I couldn’t believe that I had let Prince weasel his way around me and into what Michael and I had and take me.
I couldn’t believe I had been so weak, so stupid.
So incredibly, flamingly, alarmingly stupid.
How could I have let myself fall for Prince? Why didn’t I notice? Prince had gone through women like he was Wilt Chamberlain! I should have known better. Two failed marriages and probably dozens of broken relationships to his name.
I looked down and saw Prince’s image looking up at me on my shirt. Watching me.
Even though it was freezing and my breaths were coming out in white clouds, I pulled the shirt off over my head and tossed it on the side of the road, wrapping my arms around my bra and shorts clad body for warmth.
I didn’t want anything to do with Prince.
I knew that I had liked Prince. That I was attracted to him and had followed him around like a trick pony seeking his approval for every little thing.
Oh the things I had done. The dirty, dirty things I had done! The dirty vile things!
How could I even face Michael when I got back to California?
Cold tears fell down my cheeks. I didn’t know what to do.
I knew I probably couldn’t even look at Michael nor even be in the same vicinity with him and keep my sanity.
Damn Prince. How could I let myself be so weak?
As I continued walked, I became aware of a vehicle following me.
Part of me hoped that it was a cop car ready to haul me away for surely looking like a hooker.
But at the moment, I felt that a hooker was more reputable that me.
I looked back and felt a scowl take my face.
It was Prince’s black limousine creeping along.
The car pulled up far enough for the passenger side glass to be even with me.
The window came down and Prince stuck his head out.
“Brynn! Are you crazy? It’s eight degrees out there!” He exclaimed, his words smoky in the frigid atmosphere.
“Maybe I am crazy for fooling with your ass!” I retorted, not in the mood to even look at him.
“Get in this car before you die of exposure! Brynn!” Prince leaned out of the window, reaching for me.

“Like you care! If I die, what are you gonna tell Michael? That you did me and let me die? You’re a true Casanova!” I shook my head and jogged away.
The car sped up and Prince was once again even with me.
“Brynn, if you stop long enough, I want to talk to you!” Prince sounded stern.
“You’ve got nothing to say that I want to hear!” I shouted.
I spotted and thicket of trees and ran off the road into them.
I ran away. I wanted to get lost in the trees. Michael would probably eventually get over me, and to hell with what Prince did.
After a while, I stopped and leaned against a tree, trying to catch my breath.
The cold air stung my lungs and nasal passages.
My legs felt like jelly.
It was then I noticed something white floating around me.
I gazed up; snowflakes were falling.
It was snowing.
I would just stand out there and let the snow cover me and maybe by the next spring someone would find me.
And it would be all over.
The snowflakes began to fall harder.
I felt a hand grip my shoulder.
I spun around quickly to see Prince standing in front of me, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Go away Prince!” I shouted. “Leave me alone or I’ll start screaming ‘rape’! Try me, I swear I will!” I inched back.
“I just want to talk to you. You need to get out of this cold. You’ll get sick.” Prince reached for me.
“I don’t care. Why do you care? If I get sick, you won’t be able to do me anymore?” I taunted still moving back.
“Do you really think that’s all I care about? Just having sex with you? You think I went to all the trouble to write songs and bring you here and go through Michael and Rusty and all that just so I could ‘do’ you?” Prince shook his head.
“You made that pretty damn clear at the orgy den you call a home and studio.” I sniffed, more tears flowing. “It was all just one elaborate scheme.” Prince’s jaw dropped.
I continued. “And I bet you tried to pass me off to Morris. What do you think I am? Some kind of groupie? Some whore you can mess around with until you get tired of me? I’m a person Prince! A person!” A sob erupted from me and I sank to my knees on the cold soil hands to my face crying.
“Brynn!” I felt Prince wrap his arms around me. He struggled to pull my hands from my face.
“Quit it!” I slapped at his face several times. I wanted him to feel some of the pain he had inflicted on me.
After a fruitless fight, he got my hands down and held my face in his hands,
“Look at me. Look at me.” He forced his eyes into mine.
“Haven’t I shown you the best since you’ve gotten here? Given you expensive clothes and jewelry? Taken care of you? Given you a nice warm room and nice food? And treated you the way any good woman should be treated? Aren’t you happy? Don’t I make you happy?” Prince argued continuing to stare at me. “Do you think I would have done all of that if I didn’t care about you?”
“I know what I said came out wrong. I know I said it wrong in the studio and I am man enough to admit it too. Damn it Brynn.” Prince thumbed my tears away.
“Don’t touch me!” I shoved Prince back on to his bottom and his back smacked the tree.
“You probably don’t understand cause all you’ve been around is Michael Jackson and I think he just treats you like his children. You’re an extra child. You just happen to be old enough to perform for him and occasionally go to bed with him.” Prince murmured.
“Damn you--Michael loves me!” I shook my head violently trying to pull free of him.
“Brynn! Don’t you see? Don’t you get it?” Prince questioned.
“What? What don’t I get?” I warbled, struggling to get away from him.
Prince wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against the softness of his sweater.
“Michael’s not the only man who loves you!” He groaned into my ear, rocking me like an infant on the snowcapped ground.
“I love you too!”
I rested against Prince, limp, cold and drained.
He was breathing heavily into my ear.
I wanted to believe him. I desperately wanted to believe him.
I felt something wet land on my bare shoulder.
Another wet drop landed on my shoulder.
I looked up, Prince was staring at me, the whites of his eyes red.
He was crying.
Prince was crying!
The sight of his tear-stained face struck a cord with me.
He was telling the truth.
He was telling the truth!
Prince really did feel something more for me than an animalistic lust.
Prince loved me!
I leaned against him sobbing even harder.
I didn’t know if my tears were from remorse or relief.
* * *An Hour Later
I looked around the bathroom in wonder. In the almost two weeks since I had been at Prince’s house, I had never seen the inside of his bathroom.
I once again felt as though I was in a hotel.
There was a large beige and purple tiled marble washbasin that appeared to be meant for two people. It was split in the middle by an art deco inspired mirrored vanity. Round bulbs glowed in gilded sockets.
On the counter of the basin were several bottles of facial and skin creams and moisturizers and curiously enough, a box of baby wipes. I hoped that Prince used them to strip off his make up as opposed to using them for his bottom.
Across the expansive room was a walk in rain shower that doubled as a steam room. Next to it on a hook hung was what I supposed Prince would wear to bed--a set of red pajamas, trimmed in gold piping. Under them was a pair of red high heeled boots. I wondered if Prince ever wore regular shoes.
Hidden behind a privacy panel near the back of the room, I could make out a commode and bidet, apparently made of marble that matched the floors.
And the symbol was everywhere, on the light fixtures, including a crystal covered one that hung from the ceiling. It wasn’t a chandelier, but just as swanky. There was even a symbol on the soap bar.
“Are you warming up?”
Tearing my eyes from my surroundings, I saw Prince entering the room, another steaming mug in his hands.
“Yeah, I think so…” I answered absent mindedly. I had so many thoughts racing through my head, I thought they’d start dripping out my ears.
Thoughts about what I had done to Michael, what Prince had done to me, what I had done to myself, what I had done to Prince, and on top of that all, the thought and admission that Prince loved me.
It was almost too much to bear.
Prince dropped to his knees on the side of the tub and pressed the mug to my lips.
“Prince, please…” I turned my head, avoiding the cider. “If you keep giving me this stuff, I’ll get drunk.” I whispered.
Prince chuckled. “If you can go through five mugs of this stuff and still see straight, you’re not going to get drunk.”
He poked the mug at my lips again. “Drink it. It’ll make you sleep better later. You need to rest.”
I sighed and took the mug from him and tried to drink quickly. I didn’t really like the cider, it tasted like cinnamon flavored lighter fluid.
Only God knew how much of the drink was rum and how much was cider. The first couple of mugs had made me cough something fierce and scorched my throat, but now by mug six, it was somewhat tolerable.
As I drank, the room fell silent.
I glanced over and saw that Prince was watching me quietly, his eyes seeming to take my entire existence in.
I stared down at the whipping water, more thoughts nagging at me.
“You’re thinking about what happened earlier, aren’t you?” Prince asked softly.
“Yes.” Head still down I held out the mug to him.
He took it away and I heard it clank as it hit the floor.
“And what do you think?” Prince patted my head.
I stared at him, eyes wide.
“You don’t really love me, do you?” I whimpered. I just couldn’t seem to get my mind around the idea. Prince seemed more like the love them and leave them type of person, rather than love for the long haul.
Prince smiled. “Yeah, I do. Why can’t you believe that?” He leaned his cheek against his fist.
I shrugged. “You haven’t known me long enough. Not even two weeks. I mean, that’s a really short time. You can’t just throw the word ‘love’ around like a baseball.” I explained.
Prince chuckled. “You don’t believe in love in first sight? What people have to hang around each other for what? Months? Years? You don’t think it can happen like pow?” He snapped his fingers.
“I don’t think I believe in love at first sight. Lust maybe, but not love.” I poked my toe at a bubble jet.
Prince whistled. “Okay, maybe, it was lust when I first saw you. That dress was banging though. Did you pick that blue number out?’
“No…um, Michael did.” At the mention of Michael’s name, I became nauseous, and wondered if I could make it across the room without puking.
I could only wonder of how Michael would react to everything that had happened. The betrayal. It was a slap in the face to even be in the tub with Prince in the room.
“Ugh, Mike must be a boob man.” Prince stood on his knees.
He reached into my hair and with a few hard tugs, pulled the elastic holding my ponytail out and my hair fell over my shoulders.
Prince’s lavender scent wafted to my nostrils. For some reason, the aroma seemed to relax me and take the sickness I felt away.
“I saw that little light in your eye when you looked at me. Maybe that was lust too?” Prince chuckled toying with my waves.
I felt myself flushing.
“But, I’ve gotten to know you. We’ve talked and I like some of the things you’ve told me. Except I don’t think I have funny looking balls!” Prince’s voice went into a comically high register and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“But aside from that, yeah, I love you. There’s something about you.” Prince grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back so that I looked up at him.
His minty breath blew into my face. “Maybe it’s cause you’re so pretty. Maybe it’s your innocence that keeps me coming back. Maybe I just want to spoil you. And I like spoiling you.”
His eyes searched my face. “Do you love me too?”
Closing my eyes to stop from being drawn into his gaze again, I tried to think of a reason to avoid answering.
“I don’t know if I can love a man that doesn’t have a last name.” I murmured.
Prince tugged my hair again. “It’s Nelson.”
My eyes popped open. I never thought he’d have that normal of a last name. I figured it would be something more exotic.
I was pulling for straws. I needed anything, anything to keep from giving him a real response.
“Are…are you Black?” I didn’t know where the hell that lame question came from.
“Does it matter?” Prince laughed uproariously.
“Well…I’d like to know, if you don’t mind.” I tried to sound cool, but I was more shaken than anything.
“If you most know, both of my parents were a mix of things, Black, Italian, French, all kinds of races. But for all intents and purposes, I am Black.” Prince shrugged.
My eyebrow raised over something he said. “You said your parents ‘were’. Are they…” I trailed off and Prince let go of my hair.
“Yeah…they are.” Prince nodded solemnly, a sad expression coming to his face. I hadn’t seem him that sour since he’d told me that he and Manuela were over.
“I’m sorry.” I felt a pang of guilt and sadness. I couldn’t believe that both of Prince’s parents were…dead.
“It’s okay.” He sighed, dropping back on his heels.
“Did they go at the same time?” I wondered quietly. I couldn’t even begin to think of what my life would be like if not one, but both of my own parents were deceased. I knew I was on the out and out with them, but not to the point where I’d ever wanted anything bad to happen to them.
“No…a few years apart.” Prince looped his hands together and cracked the knuckles.
We both sat in silence for a while.
Prince broke the ice.
“How do you and your parents get along? You never mention them.” He asked thoughtfully.
“Um, we don’t get along.” I brought my knees up to my chest.
“Why is that?” Prince sat with his back against the side of the tub.
“Well, I wanted to sing, and dropped out of college to do it and they basically said I go back or to get the hell out of their house. So I left. What else could I do? I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to perform. I like to sing. I like to perform. It makes me happy. What’s wrong with doing what makes me happy?” I felt a surge of bitterness like none other at the thought of how rudely my parents had treated me.
I just had a massive weight that I had been carrying around with me, and for some reason, it felt right to confide in Prince.
“I mean I was miserable in school. My parents wanted me to be a doctor like my father. I didn’t want to look at sick people all day. That’s depressing. I feel special when I sing. Looking out and seeing that I’m making people happy--even if it was a bunch of drunks. My parents were wasting money on college. I’m smart, but my head wasn’t for the medical field. I wanted to go out and make a name for myself. And I want that more than anything now. I don’t care about the money or anything, I came from money. My parents have money. I have a trust fund that kicks in when I turn twenty-five. I just want to make a name for myself. I’d just love to know what the hell they’d think of me going from singing in low rate dives to being here: in Minneapolis singing with you. In a mansion, in a tub made out of marble. Doing better than they probably ever dreamed.”
I nodded as Prince turned to stare at me. Something in his eyes made me know that he completely understood where I was coming from.
“I don’t feel any more alive than I do when I have a microphone in my hand. I know that music can touch people. Make them happy, sad, crazy, sexy, whatever. You know what it’s like. To perform. To feed off the crowd and have then throw it back at you. It’s incredible, remarkable. The best feeling in the world.” I popped a fist in the water, making a small splash.
I gazed over at Prince, he was staring at me with a sultry pout.
Embarrassed, I stammered, “I don’t know what made me say all that.”
Inhaling deeply Prince said, “It needed to be said. And you trusted me enough to say it.”
He looked up and over my head.
His eyes flittered around the room as he said in a throaty voice,
“We’re too damn much alike. Loving performing and making music. Oooh…you love me…say it, Brynn. Say you love me. I wanna hear you say it.”
My hands trembled, as did my soul as I felt a certain set of words come to my mouth.
I wrapped my arms around my damp shoulders. A sudden chill burst through me.
Lightening fast, Prince jumped to his feet and stood over me, glaring down.
His eyes seemed different though. His stance was almost threatening, but his eyes…
Prince seemed to yearn to hear the words.
“I…I…I…” I seemed to choke on the words.
“Brynn…” Prince’s breaths seemed to become labored.
Dropping my head, I knew that I had no choice to tell Prince the truth.
And it was breaking for me to say it.
“I love you.” My voice was almost inaudible.
There was a strict yank on my hair and my head flipped backwards with a snap.
Before I was even aware of it, Prince was cradling me, head in arms, lips over lips, kissing and nibbling my mouth greedily.
I hung there numbly for a few moments.
Then as I succumbed to seduction, I reached up and wrapped my wet arms around his head, crushing his hair.
When Prince came up for air, I panted,
“I love you! I do! I do!”
It was all I could manage before his mouth came back down on mine for round two.
My body rattled from the truth, and from another dark, unhappy whine in the deepest recesses of my mind.
A staggering reality.
I was in love with two men.

Chapter 13

The Salon
Paisley Park
The Following Day


“…did you ever warm up from yesterday?” Mindy questioned as she picked at my hair. It was back in curls. I figured that he would want my hair back that way since it had been like that since Day One.
“Yeah, it only took about a two hour soak in a tub of hot water before I felt human again.” I giggled. “ For a while there, I felt like a little fudgecicle.”
“I know, but you handled the last shoot beautifully. I really thought you were gonna knock Mr. Prince on his ass.” Mindy shook her head as she continued to tease my hair up.
“Don’t think it didn’t run through my mind…” I tapped my fingers in my lap thoughtfully, remembering how warm Prince had felt.
I had almost completely forgotten about the cold when I held onto him.
There was definitely something there…
But I knew I couldn’t do anything about it. Not as long as Michael was in the picture. And I wanted to keep Michael in the picture.
I loved him.I was sure my little feelings for Prince would pass once I went back to California at the end of the week. (At least that’s what I kept telling myself.)
“Can I tell you something?” Mindy questioned as she handed me the garment bag containing my outfit for the day.
“Sure.” I replied going off into the stall, to change into my outfit--a dark green long sleeved minidress, trimmed around the cuffs and hemline in Prince’s symbols, embroidered in gold thread.
“Mr. Prince was talking about the photos you took, he said he saw the proofs--he was really pleased with the pictures.” Mindy’s voice brimmed with giddiness.
I grinned to myself, once again soaring at the thought that Prince has liked what I had done.
“I don’t think he slept much last night, as far as I know he was up all night reviewing the shots. He looked a little tired this morning.” Mindy hung around outside the stall door.
As I slipped into a pair of strappy gold pumps, I tried to imagine what Prince looked like tired and maybe even without make up on.
I found that I simply couldn’t do it.

Every time I saw Prince, he was dressed very well and coiffed like he was five minutes away from doing a live concert.
Always confident, and a bit raw.
“Does he look much different without make up on?” I questioned, exiting the stall.
Mindy’s face squinched up. “Not really. All I really put on his face is a little concealer, foundation and maybe mascara. Very minimalist, but since he’s so light, it does make a difference. I just try to impact his eyes as much as possible because he has very pretty eyes.” Mindy giggled as I sat on the white couch.
That was true, my knees did get weak whenever he glanced at me.
I chuckled quietly as Mindy went back over and started to clear her station.
“Good morning ladies…” A deep voice rumbled.
Jimmy strode into the room and over to me.
“Mr. Prince is waiting for you in the front hall, he told me to tell you, he has something to show you.” Jimmy informed me.
“Oh, okay.” I shrugged, getting to my feet.
“You too Mindy.” With that, Jimmy turned and left the room.
“Well let’s go see what Mighty Mouse wants.” I flipped my hair casually.
Mindy and I made our way out the room and down the stairs to see what Prince wanted.
I just hoped that it didn’t involve anything where I had to leave the building, after my near brush with pneumonia the day before, I almost didn’t report for my daily primping.
Prince was leaning on the front double doors of the building, looking outside.
As Mindy and I neared him, I could make out that he was humming a tune.
I stopped a moment, and just looked at Prince.
His stance was so powerful, I forgot how short he was. His svelte body was clad in a thin burgundy rhinestone studded turtleneck shirt, over a pair of matching form-fitting trousers.
Even his hair, apparently blown straight, sparkled with glitter.
“Mr. Prince?” Jimmy implored after a few quiet moments.
Prince looked up thoughtfully and turned to face us.
Dark Versace sunglasses hid his eyes. And dark under-eye circles I presumed.
“Oh…” He cleared his throat. “Brynn--” He addressed me.
“Yes Prince?” I smiled at him.
Prince made his way over to me.
“I have something I want to show you. “ He indicated Mindy and Jimmy with a toss of his head. “You guys too.”
Prince looped his arm around my waist and led us down the hall, the hallway that was lined with photos of his protégées.
Near the Game Room, there was a large purple sheet covering what appeared to be a large photo frame.
My breath caught in my throat.
“You already have a picture in here? But we took them yesterday!” I was flabbergasted.
He ignored the question.
“You know Brynn, I was up half the night trying to figure out what photo to hang in here.” Prince tapped his fingers against my waist, an action that made me almost tremble with excitement.
“There were five different looks, and you took so many good photographs. You really are photogenic. Hard as hell. But I think I found the perfect shot that screams Paisley Park.” Prince let go of me and moved over to the sheet.
With a swift tug, the purple tarp fell to the floor.
Mindy and I both released high pitched squeals.
I suppose she was squealing because Prince was happy with the work she had done on me. I was just pleased that the photo was tasteful.
It was from the first shoot in the green and blue.
I was in the forefront of photo, on the blue chaise lounge, arm extended displaying the large symbol on my glove, a sultry pout to my face; Prince stood behind the lounge, hands on hips, looking sneaky and sexy.
“Oh my God! I love it!” Without thinking, I rushed over and threw my arms around Prince.
“I love it. It looks great! I mean I look good! You look good! Oooh!” I kissed his cheek with a loud smack.
Coming back down to earth, I realized that I had openly been affectionate to Prince, and quickly shrank back, a warm mix of embarrassment and elation rushing through me.
Prince took the hug and kiss all in stride.
“And since you worked so hard--Mindy, making Brynn look so nice, Jimmy for running around behind me all day, and Brynn…” Prince grasped my hands in his gently. “Brynn, for being so gorgeous…I’ve decided to give everyone the day off!” Prince gave me the mousy grin I had grown accustomed to.
“I get the day off…on a Tuesday?” Mindy put her hands to her face. “Thank you Mr. Prince! Thank you!” She exclaimed. I knew in her eyes, she had just won the lottery.
I thought she was going to copy me and also hug and kiss on Prince, she seemed so happy.
Jimmy was more subdued, offering a mere “Thank you, sir” before he and Mindy turned to leave.
As the double doors to the studio closed behind them, I gazed over at Prince.
He was studying the photograph.
“Um, thank you.” I said meekly, looking at my feet.
“What for?” Prince asked absently, still looking at the photo.
“For putting this photo in here instead of one of the other ones. You know, the ones where I’m not wearing as much. I, uh, I appreciate it.” I fidgeted nervously.

“I was half tempted to put up the one of you in those black panties, but I knew you’d probably bother the shit outta me over it. So, that’s what ended up going up.” Prince glanced at me over the top of his shades.
“Thank you for using your better judgment.” I beamed at him.
“You did look good yesterday.” He got uncomfortably close to me. “And you look even better today.” Prince wet his lips in my face.
Stepping back, I mumbled quickly, “I should go call Michael, he’s been wondering what the picture that goes up in here would look like, I should go let him know.” I tried to brush past Prince.
“Michael can wait.” Prince insisted. “I have something for you..” He grabbed onto my hand.
“Y-y-you do?” My voice shook. I was extremely afraid that Prince would try something vulgar.
“Yes, it’s in the Game Room.” Prince nodded and walked us over to the neon doors, holding one open for me.
Truly curious, but extremely cautious, I moved slowly and tentatively into the room.
Prince closed the door behind us.
My eyes flicked around the room and came to rest on a small rectangular box that was setting in the middle of the electric blue crescent shaped couch. It was wrapped in a light purple paper and topped with a darker plum bow.
“Is that for me?” I glanced back at Prince who was leaning casually against the door.
He silently nodded.
I went over to the couch and picked up the box; it was very light in weight.
I gingerly unwrapped the box, paper falling to the floor and came up with a white iPod covered in violet rhinestones.
“You got me an iPod?” I looked up at him, confused. He knew I already had one that Michael had given me.
“Yes, but this one is different.” Prince sauntered over and took the gadget from me. “The little red one you have has nothing but Michael’s music on it. This one is filled with mine.”
“Oh…thank you.” I reached for it.
“I want you to learn a few of my songs, other than 1999, Purple Rain and Little Red Corvette. You see, this Friday before you go back to California, I was thinking about having a little jam session with some of my band mates.”
Prince tapped his foot on the floor.
“I get to sing with your band?” I could actually feel my eyes swelling with amazement. I had never performed with a real band ever, just a track of pre-recorded music.
“Yeah” Prince handed me the iPod. “ But I want to initiate you quick and hip you to the kind of stuff we sing.” He pointed at my gift.
“Turn it on and scroll through some of the songs.” He instructed.
I did as I was told and started skimming through song titles.
“Head? Sister? Jack U Off? Billy Jack Bitch?” I stared up at him.
“I dunno if I can sing this…I mean the titles seem a little…” My mind searched for the appropriate word. “Raunchy.”
None of the music I had ever listened to or performed had any words stronger than “damn” in them. I could only imagine what Prince would be singing about at his dirtiest.
Prince giggled.
“Well if you want to sing with me Friday, you’ll have to learn the lyrics to most of those songs, I only put thirty songs on there. Right now Jimmy is delivering the lyrics to your room, so you can learn them.” Prince reached out and tapped my nose.
“It won’t be so bad, unless that kind of music makes you worried.” Prince hissed the last word and grinned.
Putting on a brave face, I made myself say,
“I’m not worried, I just don’t think that some of the stuff you sing is cool for me to sing.” I twirled the iPod in my hands.
“You’re over eighteen. You can sing any word you want, and I expect you to sing all the music on the iPod.” Prince crossed his arm and regarded me coldly.
“But Michael…” I started. Prince shot his hand up, swiftly silencing me.
He leaned and said into my ear, “Remember, you’re here for Michael. You did agree to sing for me. And you have to sing whatever I ask of you. Or I’ll call the deal off so fast your neck’ll snap from spinning so fast.”
I glanced at Prince’s face and over the side of his sunglasses, I saw that his eyes were widened and looked fierce.

I knew that I would have to sing the song or Michael might have tossed me out on the street for ruining a chance for a successful comeback.
“Alright. I’ll try the songs.” I said remorsefully, hoping that I wouldn’t end up singing anything that would send me to Hell.


* * *


Prince’s Home
That Night


I sat soaking in the large cinnamon bathtub in my room, deep in thought. I had just gotten off the phone with Michael, telling him about the photo that Prince had selected to hang in Paisley Park.
Michael seemed extremely pleased that Prince has chosen the most demure picture of the bunch.
(Of course, I neglected to tell him about the racier outfits. Even though I had modeled five different outfits, I saw to it that Michael only knew about two
--the green dress, and the blue/turquoise body suit.)
It was such a hard thing to do, please both Michael and Prince. Michael was biding his time in California, hoping that I stayed as fresh and innocent I had always been around him and it seemed that in Minnesota, Prince was trying everything under the sun to turn me into a little vixen.
I just hoped that I could keep the two personas from overlapping because my being sweet seemed to upset Prince and I knew that if I acted overly sexy, Michael would be appalled.
Thinking about Prince’s end, I was shaken by the music and lyrics he was tossing at me. I hadn’t yet played any of the songs on my purple iPod, but I had given the lyrics book a cursory glance and what I saw almost knocked the curls out of my hair.
The thirty songs Prince had given me to try to learn covered everything from explicit sexual displays to--as the song Head illustrated--immoral acts.
I was mortified a hundred-fold by a single line that was so shameful, I didn't have the heart to repeat it in my mind. How I'd manage to sing it would be a feat.
Prince appeared to be even more perverse that I had first expected.
Even though it frightened me, I found myself even more interested and intrigued by him.
So raw, he was saying things that Michael probably would never.
Taboo, X-rated things. Michael couldn’t even say the “F” word and Prince had it peppering almost every song in my lyrics book.
I just knew that in order to make those words come out of my mouth, I’d have concentrate on getting it over as quickly as possible.
I got out of the tub and slipped into my symbol robe, wondering if I’d have the nerve to play any of the music on the iPod. But I knew if I didn’t and tried to sing the songs without any idea of the musical arrangement, Prince would be pissed.
I didn’t know what to do.
Deciding it was in my best interest to listen to the music, I quickly donned a pair of red and white striped pajamas and started to get in bed, iPod in hand.
As I peeled back the thick blankets, I was startled by a swift and hard knock on the door.
Regaining my composure, I called,
“Who is it?”
“Prince!” came the reply.
Not really thinking about it, I said,
“Door’s open!” and went back to turning my bed down.
I glanced up as the door swung open.
Prince stood in the doorway, clad in an ivory tone on tone paisley print velvet robe. The color of the robe made him appear luminous.
My iPod fell to the floor as I looked him fully up and down.
A matching scarf was wrapped around his head.
My eyes moved down past the large black silk rose he was holding down to the boots that coordinated with his robe. A peek of chest hair was barely visible over the top of his robe that was open and showing a bit of his neck.
I gazed at his face, and gasped.
Something in his face was unnerving. His hazel eyes were narrowed a bit and glowed with an almost green inner light. He appeared sinister.
His mouth was pouted, cheeks purposefully caved, making his cheekbones more prominent.
“Prince?” I questioned, shaken by the raw sexuality that seemed to radiate from him.

Prince said nothing but approached me, every step deliberate, swaggering coolly. His robe swayed.
He stood about a foot from me, and extended his hand to me, offering me the flower.
My heart pounded as I took the rose from him.
Prince continued to stare, so long, and I could feel my heart thudding in my ears.
“Please…say something.” I begged quietly, trying to look away from the hungry gaze he was giving me. The silence was terrible.
Prince’s tongue darted from in his mouth and wet his lips.
I could feel a strain start inside of me, as I warmed from my head to my toes.
“You look like a big peppermint stick.” Prince observed almost inaudibly.
A nerve racked chuckle escaped me.
“Uh…thank you…” I looked down at the flower in my hands.
“You look very pretty. Your hair is loosening up again.” Prince reached up and twirled a lock of my hair.
His knuckles brushed my ear--I felt chills.
“Yeah,” I swatted his hand away and tried to move away from him. I knew if I didn’t soon, something bad was going to happen.
As I ducked to the side, Prince ducked along with me and blocked my way.
I swerved to the other side and Prince once again met me.
We played cat and mouse for several moments, before Prince finally placed his hands on my shoulders, holding me in place.
“You’re giving me motion sickness Brynn.” He chuckled.
Prince got in so close to me that his lavender scent was almost overpowering.
I could feel my knees weakening.
Prince reached up and stroked my cheek, his touch sparking my skin and making my stomach flip like a Chinese acrobat.
“You’re so innocent, so young. Only nineteen Brynn.” Prince whispered, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You’re only nineteen.”
I grabbed onto his wrist, not to shove his hand away, but because I needed something to hold on to keep from joining my iPod lying on the carpet.
“You don’t know anything about men. Nothing at all. It’s oh, so exciting.” Prince continued to whisper, his face coming dangerously near mine.
I just stared at him helplessly. I was drowning in his seducing glare. And I knew there was no lifesaver to rescue me.
“You’re a little virgin.”
Prince continued to stare at me and I shrank under his dirty look.
Without warning, Prince gripped my shoulders and pushed me into the small space between the bed and the nightstand so hard, that the gilded symbol over my bed swung.
His eyes pierced mine for a split second before his mouth smashed against mine passionately.
I squirmed hotly against him, unable to move my arms, as he bore down on my mouth without restraint. His mouth was so sweet and intoxicating. Once again after a few short moments, I felt the wetness of his tongue trying to get past my lips and gain entry into my mouth.
Something made me accept it. Our tongues touched and the sensation made me snap my head to the side. I realized I was panting.
Prince reached up with a hand and directed my mouth back to his. His tongue slid against mine again, wet and tasting of mints.
Prince forced my mouth open wider and pushed his tongue further until it swabbed the back of my throat.
With his other hand, Prince placed my hand on his buttock and squeezed down on it so that I had a handful of cheek. It was firm to the touch and incredibly toned.
Turning my head from him, I gasped, “Oh my God!”
Mouth to my ear, Prince announced, “I want to undress you.”
I moved back, a sudden feeling of fear needling me.
Prince wanted to do me.
My attention flooded back to him as he remarked,
“I really like those cute pajamas, they’d look better laying on the floor.”
He began to unbutton my top.
“Wait!” I nervously pushed his hands away.
“You’re not pulling that stunt you pulled before.” Prince sneered.
Pointing at my chest he said, “You’ve been bouncing those things around me for a solid week. I can see your nipples poking through that top. I want to see the whole thing.”
He went at the buttons again.
“No!” I shoved his hands for a second time. I was scared to find out what he wanted to do to me and at the same time I wanted to know.
“Bullshit.” Prince said and his face hardened. Gripping my shirt with both hands, he yanked on it, ripping the material, sending buttons flying and exposing my breasts.
“Ooohhh.” I groaned, more defeated than aroused.
Prince’s eyes scanned my bosom greedily.
“Damn, your titties are cute. Didn’t realize they were that big. Perky too.” Prince chuckled pressing my shoulders against the wall, making my chest stick out more.

“What are you going to do to me?” I whimpered, my body trembling as a cool breeze hit me.
Another mousy smile.
“Turn you out.” Prince replied simply. “Don’t be scared.”
He went to kiss me and instinctively, I shoved him in the chest.
“Stop being so damn scared! Once I get this shit going, you’re never gonna want me to get off you.” Prince lifted my arms up, holding them above me in a semi-circle and I was against the wall with nowhere to go. He was gripping my arms so hard and tightly, they hurt.
I struggled against him, but the effect only made him hotter.
“Brynn, your titties are bouncing.” Prince observed, and mashed his body against mine and his mouth to mine once more.
The chest hair coming out the loosening top of his robe was coarse and rubbed painfully against my chest.
For a moment, I wondered if he was naked under the robe.
But his mouth was seducing. The more he pecked at me, the more jellified my knees became.
I mumbled incoherently.
I felt Prince take one of his hands off my arm.
For a while he held my face in place as he unleashed his tongue in my mouth once more, making me suck on it.
I then noticed that his hand started making its descent down south.
I jerked violently as his hand slid into my pajama bottoms and off into my underwear.
“Stop Prince!” I screeched, frightened whipping my head from side to side.
I twisted my lower half and squeezed my legs together as tightly as possible.
“No…I know you want this.” Prince refused and I felt him pushing his leg between mine to open them back.
“Please!” I shrieked as I felt two of Prince’s fingers enter me.
“Shut up.” Prince’s kisses were fiercer than ever.
His fingers slid back and forth, touching me where I’d never been touched by anyone but Michael.
His breath was acrid against my eardrum,
“This is too much fun. I haven’t had a virgin in years.”
Unable to control myself, I exclaimed,
“I’m not a virgin!”
Prince quickly let go of my arms and pulled his hand from my panties.
“What?” He stared at me and I saw an angry flame burning in his amber colored eyes.
Crossing my arms over my bare chest I replied solemnly, weaker than ever,
“Prince, I’m not a virgin.”
“When?” Prince tapped his foot. His stance was stony and threatening.
“When what?” My voice quaked.
“When did you lose your virginity?” Prince demanded.
“That’s none of your business.” I shook my head, dread filling me.
Prince grabbed my chin and forced me to look him in the eye.
“I’m asking you again: when did you lose it?”
His voice was colder than an ice cube.
Not really wanting to give away all the sordid details of my brief love life, I mumbled,
“Recently.”
“What’s ‘recently‘? This week? This month? This year?” Prince’s voice was so monotone and shiftless that it chilled me to my bone marrow.
“This…this year.” My hands shook and I returned my gaze to the floor, too scared to look at Prince any longer.
Prince was alarmingly quiet for a long while and I snuck a glance up at him. He was staring at me with a curious expression.
“So that’s why you’ve been flying around at Michael Jackson’s every beck and call: you’ve been screwing him.” Prince stated, no emotion to his face.
My eyes widened in horror. How had he figured it out? How long had he known? Michael was going to kill me!
Moving along the wall, and around the table, trying to get past Prince, I said feebly,
“I never said anything about Michael. You’re putting words in my mouth.
I could have been with someone else other than Michael. He’s just a friend.”
I didn’t know who I was trying to convince, Prince or myself.
“Oh yeah? Who else could it have been? That Rusty dude? Don’t lie to me Brynn. I knew it.” He pointed an accusing finger at me.
“I knew it. You were scared to kiss me that day and then the next day Michael sent you that expensive-ass bracelet. You are fucking with Michael Jackson. Tell me I’m wrong.” Prince demanded tapping his foot on the floor.
Stricken, I whimpered,
“You weren’t supposed to know. Nobody is supposed to know. I’m sorry.” Tears started falling down my cheeks. In dismay, I threw the black rose down.
They fell harder when Prince turned his back to me and walked over to the center of the room, standing directly under the large round light fixture hanging from the ceiling. He stared up at it, silence filling the air between us.
I continued to cry, feeling as if the universe had caved in on me.
All I could think about was that Michael would have me killed on the spot if he knew Prince knew about us.
He would have been so disappointed with me. Michael might have even hit me.

Prince, back still turned, announced,
“You’re still a virgin, Brynn.”
“What do you mean?” I sniffled. I was confused.
“You said you slept with Michael. That’s gotta be the most boring sex in the world. I bet he only lands you on your back. No creativity.”
Prince turned swiftly and approached me.
“I bet he does silly little shit with you. He doesn’t know how to handle a girl like you, and you don’t know what the hell you’re missing because you didn’t have anyone before him.” He was arrogant again.
My body stiffened, it made me angry that he’d insult Michael’s love techniques. I was perfectly satisfied with being “landed on my back.”
Just being near him made me happy.
In spite of myself, I inquired, “What am I missing?”
Prince loomed over me. “Has Michael ever kissed your rose petals?”
I stared up at him, every emotion known to man coursing through me.
“Rose petals?” I pressed myself against the wall as Prince got closer to me.
Leaning in and whispering harshly to me, he replied,
“That.”
He tapped my private area through my clothing.
“Eww! No!” I jerked against the wall so hard that I bumped my head.
“He ever put his thing in your mouth?” Prince giggled.
“No! He’d never do any of those things! That’s disgusting!” I wailed.
“How do you know it’s disgusting? You’ve never done it before.” Prince pointed out.
“It just is.” I said stubbornly.
“You don’t know what it’s like to be with a real man Brynn…I said I’m gonna turn you out and I’m going to.” His voice was lethal. “I always keep my word.”
Shoving my shoulder hard, Prince pushed me around so that I was facing the wall. He pulled my tattered top off and threw it on the floor next to my iPod.
“No!” I screamed as Prince wrapped his arms around my waist and started pulling me towards the door.
He was going to take me to his room!
“Yes.” Prince was overpowering me and my attempts to flee his grasp all turned up nothing. He pulled me out the room and into the dim hallway.
We began stumbling towards his bedroom. Halfway down the hall and near the decorative banister of the staircase, I managed to grab onto it and hung onto it with both hands. I was terribly afraid of Prince at this point and frightened that he was going to rape me. Even worse, I was excited at the thought. My mix of emotions were so confusing.
“Nooooooooooooooo! Stop!” I shrieked clinging to it.
Fear was eating me up.
“Ten minutes ago, you were ready to give it up to me. I know you still want to! Them’s my drawers and I’m gonna get in them!” Prince moved his hands up and squeezed on my breasts so hard and tightly that it felt as though he were pulling them off my body!
Recoiling from the pain, my hands dropped from the railing and I sunk to the carpet, tired.
Prince bent down and tossed me over his velvety shoulder and continued down the hall.
I hung over it limply, tears falling across my forehead.
Prince kicked the door to his room open and rushing over to his bed, flung me across it.
I went down so fast, my vision was blurred.
A loud SLAM made me shake my head and as my eyes focused, I saw that Prince had slammed and was in the process of locking the double doors.
His room was dimmer than the hallway and I could see that dozens of white candles were lit on his dresser and side tables.
They cast strange shadows across the walls.
The room was heavy with the scent of vanilla.
Prince walked back over and stood end of the bed looking at me, a ferocity in his eyes that I had never seen before.
I quickly grabbed one of the throw pillows on his bed and clutched it to my chest.
“Oh hell no!” Prince stormed over and seized the pillow.
“Don’t you dare go hiding on me now!” He threw the pillow at me. It came within an inch of hitting me in the face and landed on the floor on the other side of the bed. I tried to cover myself with my hands again.
“I know you want me Brynn. You just don’t want to admit it.” He paced alongside the bed. “I could tell from the first time I saw you, I could tell by those eyes of yours. The way you looked at me. You just don’t want to do anything because of Michael Jackson.” Prince sniffed arrogantly.
“That’s…that’s right, Prince. I have Michael at home.” I managed to get out, feeling sick and guilty. It was shocking how a while before I had wanted Prince and now all I had wanted to do was get away from him.
Leaning into my face, Prince pointed out, “He’s what’s holding you back. I saw you when you were looking at my ass and when you were all on me in the studio. You can scream and cry and deny all the shit you want, but you can’t help your eyes. I see the fire, the flame, the want.”
I shut my eyes to avoid looking at him.
Prince was right. He was so frighteningly, truly right.
I was deathly attracted to him.
“I refuse to let you leave Minneapolis without seeing what you’re missing.” He giggled near my ear.
“No!” I exclaimed and in a blast of power, I tried to rush past him.
I got a good three steps from him before Prince grabbed me by the hair and plunked me back on the bed.
My scalp burned.

“Don’t try that shit again.” Prince warned standing before me, a sinister expression forming on his face.
He ran his hands over his chest and across his abdomen.
Breathing deeply, he instructed,
“Lie down.”
Even in the darkened room, I could make out the intensity in his large eyes.
Something told me that if I didn’t obey him, I’d probably emerge from the room covered in bruises, if I emerged at all.
Reluctantly, I laid on my back, resting on the throw pillows on his bed. I watched him, a fusion of steady trepidation and stimulation making my body hotter with every passing second.
I was so frightened of him, but so taken with him at the same time.
Prince placed his hands on my wrists and gently tugged my hands from my chest, fully exposing my breasts to him again.
He rested his hand on the flesh between them for a moment.
We were both silent.
I was anticipating his next move.
Still silent his rested his spare hand along the other; both lingered there for a moment. My bosom was still sore from him mashing down on it earlier.
He finally spoke, the sudden sound of his voice made me jump. His voice was soft and had lost the hard edge it had had a moment before.
“Oh girl, I’m gonna do things to you that’ll have you sweating twenty years from now. You just don’t know, Brynn. You haven’t been taught. But I’m gonna teach you and you’re gonna learn.” He dropped both his hands to the waistband of my pajama bottoms.
Hurriedly, he pulled then off exposing my flimsy underwear, the only scrap of cloth covering me.
I shivered, not from being cold, but because I was actually excited.
A smirk touched Prince’s lips.
“You’ve got some nerve coming up in here with purple panties on! Purple!” He exclaimed and placed his hands on my thighs, his touch burning me.
“That’s a nice touch. Those match my room.” He chuckled.
Seriously, he added, “But I don’t care too much for them…they stop the juice.”
He placed his hands on one side of my panties. With a small snap, he had broken the side of them.
“Can’t wait to see those little petals of yours. Shit.” Prince was slow in pulling my panties off, moving gingerly, as if he were unwrapping a delicate piece of crystal.
He slipped them from around my ankles and clutched them in his hands, staring down at me. Indicating my private area with a shake of my torn undergarments, he chuckled,
“Should have figured you’d be bald down there. Bet that turns Michael on.”
Prince placed my underwear under his nose and inhaled deeply.
I stared at him stunned; Prince was smelling my panties!
He was truly unleashing his freaky side.
“That turns me on too.” He dropped my spent underwear to the carpet.
I could do nothing but watch, truly intrigued and arousal mounting.
Prince dropped to his knees at the side of the bed and holding onto my hips, pulled on me until my bottom was resting just at the edge of the bed.
“You smell so sweet. Like candy…” Prince, placing his hands on my inner thighs, spreading them open as far as my muscles would allow.
His hands were very cool and a bit clammy.
I was completely opened and exposed to Prince. He was looking at parts of me that only one other man had seen.
I knew I could have very easily kicked Prince in the face and made an escape, but something held me on the bed. I was unable to move. Some force was keeping there, my genitalia spread mere inches from Prince’s face.
“What are you going to do?” I questioned, looking over my body down at him, an idea of what taboo act he was about to perform on me.
“Take a taste of the candy.” Prince licked his thumb and began rubbing it against my “love button”.
“Oh!” I gasped and fell back on the pillows.
Prince was going to make a meal of me!
“Don’t…I’ve never done this!” I begged, trying to sit up.
I fell once more when I felt Prince’s lips, steamy and wet, peck the top of my vaginal lips.
“I’m gonna make you mess this bed up.” Prince vowed, yanking the wrap off his head and tossing it on the covers.
His hair, loose and straight was combed back and out of the way.
I could feel Prince using his fingers to spread my inner folds open.
I watched as two of his manicured fingers disappeared inside of me again.
A bare whine fell out of my mouth as he began to rhythmically run his fingers back and forth inside of me.
I watched as Prince, wearing a large grin, placed his face smack in between my loins.
I lost my voice when I felt the wetness and roughness of his tongue join his fingers inside of me.
I clutched at the only thing available to me, a pillow, and pulled on it, in a fit of passion as Prince began to flick his tongue up and down.
After a short while, I had pulled the pillow apart and feathers floated across the bed and room.
I let it drop back to the bed, my hands shaking.
My breath quickened a hundred-fold.
With his free hand, Prince reached up and toyed with my breasts.
He alternated between lightly gripping and jiggling one and then the other.
“Prince!” I exclaimed and grabbed onto his hand, watching his sexy face, half hidden by my lower regions, moving up and down as his plunged his tongue even deeper in me, to the point I could feel his teeth against me, his mouth was open so wide.
His hazel eyes glowed as he looked up at me, he winked, then looked back down into me.
I squeezed his hand tightly and moaned loudly as I felt myself beginning to succumb to his dirty deed.
Prince’s tongue and fingers began moving rapidly, rapidly, rapidly…
“Oh! Oh! No! Prince…ugh…Prince…oh…PRINCE!” I screamed so loudly that I was sure most of the state of Minnesota heard me.
Prince was slurping loudly, as if he was trying to drain my body of every liquid in it.

My body wrenched as a torrent of passion began releasing itself from my hips. I put my other hand over my face as an orgasm ravaged my body.
“Prince, please! No! No! Oh! Aww! Ugh!” Tsunamis of heat were washing over me as I could feel myself succumbing again.
Limply, I loosened my grip on his hand, breathing heavier than ever.
I reached my hand down and ran it along the top of his head, through his soft hair.
He began to kiss my nether regions as freshly as he did my mouth.
I laid there speechless, staring at the top of his head, with his eyes closed kissing me deeper than I had ever been before. His little nose bumped my “love button” several times, causing me to jump.
A few moments later, Prince withdrew his face from between my legs, wiping the moistness from his lips and what had dampened his cheeks.
His facial hair glistened with sexual residue.
“That’s the sweetest little rose I’ve had in a while. You sure you’ve been fucked before? You’re extremely tight.” Prince smiled climbing to his feet.
“You felt like a virgin.” He leaned and tapped my chin with his wet and sticky fingertips. “And tasted like one.”
“I told you, I’m not a virgin.” I said defensively, my lower regions throbbing.
Taking a few steps back from the bed, Prince ran his hand from his chest down to his groin. My throat tightened when I saw how alarming large the bulge protruding from under the robe was.
He was staring at me, a new nasty, perverted expression on his face.
“Your turn to kiss my candy cane.” He said in a deep voice.
He then opened his robe and let it drop to the floor behind him.
I bit down on my bottom lip nervously as I watched it land on the floor.
He left his boots on.
And as I let my eyes drift up his body, I realized his boots were the only article of clothing he was wearing.
My eyes widened as I took in his exposed groin for the first time.
Extending from the thin patch on his stomach, a cloud of black pubic curls covered Prince’s large and engorged "scepter". It was the same butterscotch color as the rest of his skin. I could make out several veins standing out on it, like worms on a marble table.
Soft round "jewels", yellow and full, hung below his "scepter" and swung on their own, even though Prince wasn’t moving.
The hair spread off onto the inside of his toned thighs.
Prince crawled over and past me in his bed, his large booty wiggling as he moved.
Beyond my control, I brought my hand up and smacked his bottom.
“Oh you’re into that, huh baby?” Prince giggled as he laid on the pillows.
“I like your ass.” I smiled crawling up close to him. I didn’t feel as scared as I had been.
I wanted Prince.
“I think you’ll like my "pimp cane" better.” Prince sat up against the cloth headboard of his bed. I watched as he rubbed on himself with both hands clutching his thick male member.
“I’ve never done this, before.” I admitted as I twirled a lock of my hair and looked up at him innocently.
"'Bout time to learn." Prince chortled.
“Do you always have your women do this to you?” I asked running my hand through his chest hairs. I inhaled his cologne and sighed. He smelled so wonderful.
“Maybe.” Prince sighed and with one hand put my hand on his "scepter" .
It was so stiff, it was if he had rigor mortis. My hand barely fit around it.
“Rub it. I like that.” Prince ran a hand through my hair.
“Play with it.” He urged.
With both my hands I began tugging lightly on it.
Prince moaned lightly and rested his hand on the back of my neck.
I became aware of his grip tightening on it.
He pulled my ear close to his mouth which still smelled of…me.
“You got me so hot and hard, I might not make it past those pretty lips of yours. Don’t be surprised if I go off in your face.” His lips brushed my earlobe and I quivered. His voice was heavy in my ear.
I nodded solemnly, and Prince began pushing me towards his “candy cane”.
“The sweet treat is locked inside. You have to get it out.” He shoved my face down to the point where my mouth was inches from his groin.
He reached and tugged on my chin, opening my mouth.
“Don’t bite me either.”
Hesitating a few moments, I tried to bring myself to put my mouth on it.
Prince shoved the back of my head, and I fell onto his groin, his "candy cane" flying past my lips and partly down my throat.
My nose was firmly nestled amongst his pubic hair. Even his groin smelled of lavender.
“Kiss it.” Prince insisted, his hand still on my head.
I forced myself to start suckling him.
I looked up at him; he wore a grin of ecstasy.
Happy at his approval, I put more of my mouth onto him and jerked on his balls.
“You kiss so good…” A high pitched grunt exited his mouth
Doing the same thing he had done to me, I reached down and started parting Prince’s thighs, opening his legs as wide as I could get them, all the while "kissing" on him harder, as hard as I could.
I wanted him.
“Ah!…oh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!” Prince was moaning louder than I had been and he was bouncing my head up and down on his crotch. His "jewels" banged against my chin.
I felt him wrap his legs around me, the heels of his boots poking me painfully in my back. But it was a joyous pain and I accepted it.
Prince’s voice began bouncing up and down in octaves and suddenly he jerked my hair harshly, pulling my face away from him.
His "scepter" , still engorged and dampened with my spit, glittered in the candlelight.
“What…did I do it wrong?” I gasped trying to undo his grip on my hair.
“No…” Prince looked off in the distance.
I stared at him quietly.
He looked back at me and cocked his head to one side.
“I don’t want you to kiss on me, that’s too easy. Too damn easy.”
He tilted towards me, his eyes dancing. A few strands of hair fell into his face.
“Ever since I first saw you, I knew if I ever got you in my bed, I’d fuck you. I’ve wanted to fuck you since I first saw you with Michael Jackson--”
I clapped my hand over his mouth.
I didn’t want to think of Michael.
Not then.
Not there.
Prince pushed my hand away.
“And I’m going to. I’m gonna fuck you.” He repeated the phrase several times, almost like a mantra, his voice dropped lower with every repetition.
Prince heaved heavily. "I wanna fuck you till you don’t know your own name.”
“Straddle me.” He instructed and swiped his hair back.
I sat there a moment, the realization of what was happening, hitting me.
I was going to have sex with Prince!
I continued to contemplate getting on him.
I wanted him harshly, but I was afraid he would hurt me.
If he was anything like the ‘freak of the week’ he implied in his songs, I knew he would hurt me.
I suppose I took too long for Prince, because he grabbed me under my arms and pulled me so that my legs draped over his lower body.
He touched my face gently. He then dropped his hands to my breasts and squeezed them softly and I almost forgot him manhandling them in the hallway. His hands trickled around and down my back.
“I’ll be good to you. The best.” He chuckled and I could feel him fumbling with himself.
With a swift shove, Prince threw my body down on his and I felt him splitting and rushing inside me. He was just as large as Michael and the sudden pain of having him in me made me cry out .
Prince wrapped his arms around me and bounced me up and down on his "candy cane".
His breath was hot and minty as he grunted and moaned into my breasts which were around his face. His lips bumped my chest, sending shock waves through me.
“Please! Prince! Stop! Please!” I begged, placing my hands on his shoulders, misty with perspiration, the feeling getting too good, too fast.
I tried to push away from him, but Prince held me with an ironclad grip.
He was grunting and moaning in spastic little bursts that were so erratic and high pitched, I couldn’t make out what he was saying.
“Ugh!…Oh!…Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!” He groaned and I felt him sucking on one of my nipples.
“Prince!” My fingernails scraped the cloth backboard as I wildly tried to find something to grip onto since most of Prince’s head was buried in and kissing my boobs.
My hands found their way onto the pointed ends of Prince’s symbol hanging overhead.
It was a wonder I didn’t slice my hands on the pointed edges of it.
I knew I was close to the end, so very close my entire body was rattling. The sensation smacked me so quickly that all I could do was scream.
“PRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINCE!!!!!!!”
Prince’s arms loosened and he was firmly clutching my buttocks, bouncing me harder than ever against him.
I could sense that he was also close to his peak, as his moans and sighs became intelligible.
“Prince…Prince…Prince.” I moaned feebly, leaning my face down on his suddenly wet shoulder. His hair, disheveled and damp brushed my cheek lightly.
Prince was grinding and pushing his hips against me at a whipping pace, his nails digging into my bottom.
His face was blood red, contorted in a nasty scowl.
“Ugh, Oh no!! Ugh! Damn! Fuck! Oh no!” He cried out suddenly slapping my bottom, producing a loud clapping sound.
I felt myself gearing up to succumb again and at the moment I soiled him once more, Prince yanked himself out and squirted along my buttocks and back.
A warm, wetness flooded my backside.
We clung to each other, speechless, gasping and heaving for any possible air that might have still been in the room.
I felt Prince run his hand along my back.
Leaning me back on his knees, Prince showed his wet hand to me and smiled contentedly. A mischievous mousy grin.
He then poked his three middle fingers into my mouth, letting me taste his gentle saltiness.
Like a baby animal at suckling time, I licked Prince’s hand clean of all the carnal debris. I dozed off, Prince’s arm wrapped around me, still atop his hips, his fingers resting just beyond my lips.

* * *
Sometime The Next Morning


I was roused by the sound of classical music playing softly.
I found myself lying on my stomach, a large plum pillow nestled under my head, thick purple covers tucked around my body. The room was still darkened, curtains drawn and shutting out any light. A lone white candle burned on Prince’s dresser.
It was a long moment before I remembered what had happened the previous night.
What had happened with Prince...
At the thought of Prince, I looked over to his side of the bed.
It was empty, a violet colored rose lying on the pillow. Where a violet rose could have even been found, I didn’t know.
I reached over and grabbed the flower, twirling it in my hands thoughtfully before placing it under my nose, and inhaling it’s faintly sweet scent.
My mind played the entire night over…and over. It all flooded me so quickly that I gasped.
Prince’s actions, his looks, his touch, even his scent. Everything.
It seemed too good to be true…
“Ah, I see you’re awake.” A voice observed.
I rolled over to see Prince standing in the fully open doorway. Light from the hallway illuminated him from behind.
He was a silhouette.
His body was clad in a vibrant blue robe.
No scarf was on his head, but his hair was combed neatly back. He wore a placid expression his face.
A gold painted wicker tray was clasped in hands.
Hands that had once been all over me.
“Yes…good morning.” I replied shyly, pulling myself into a seated position. I discovered that a pink nightie had been put on me, covering my nude body. I was sure that it was Prince’s doing--I lacked underwear.
“Good morning.” Prince walked over, blue heeled boots picking the carpet silently. “I, uh, I made you breakfast.” He seemed just as shy as I felt.
Sitting on the side of the bed, near my knees, Prince placed the tray on my lap. His body blared the lavender scent.
It was a nice spread: On a small plate was a mound of scrambled eggs, toast topped with butter and grape jam, and a few balls of honeydew melon and cantaloupe.
A mug of hot herbal tea steamed next to the plate.
“Thank you. It looks nice.” I smiled, continuing to twirl the rose.
“Not as nice as you, though. You’re lovely.” Prince pushed my hair, surely tangled and taking on the look of a bird’s nest, off my shoulders.
A warm sensation danced up and down my body.
“Um, I didn’t know you could cook.”
I tried to change the subject, gently pushing his hand away.
“A man’s gotta know how to do a few things.” He winked at me.
I giggled nervously.
Prince picked up a honeydew ball and held it out to me. It was perched lightly on his fingertips.
Still a bit shaken, I leaned and allowed him to pop the fruit into my mouth. I pecked his fingertips. His fingertips…
“Is it sweet? .” Prince asked eating a melon ball himself. “I got it from the greenhouse especially for you.”
“It’s yummy.” I chuckled. “Thank you.”
“Here try the eggs.” Prince suggested, scooping them up with a fork and offered it to me.
“Do you plan to feed me the entire meal?” I asked, running my finger along the edge of the tray.
“If you let me.” Prince pushed the fork into my mouth.
I chewed, surprise setting in. The eggs were perfectly prepared, light and fluffy and not seasoned too heavily. I didn’t think anyone as spoiled as Prince seemed knew his way around a kitchen.
“Where’s Juan-Carlos?” I wondered, as Prince presented me with another forkful of eggs. I held the fork and continued to feed myself, barely hearing him. I wondered if he was naked again under the blue robe.
Prince seemed a little annoyed that I had taken the fork from him.
“I gave him the morning off…I wanted to be alone with you without him buzzing around.” Prince replied, picking up a piece of toast and tearing it into quarters.
“Oh…are you making dinner tonight too?” I ventured, taking the toast from him and nibbling on it. Prince wanted to spend more time with me. I wanted to sing!
“No.” Prince gave me a mousy grin. “We have some work to do today…” He dropped his voice dramatically. “Though we wore each other out last night.” He laughed.
“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” He put his hand out and rubbed my chin.
“Yeah…” I stared down at my plate blushing. “It was something.”
“I’ll say. I had your little ass climbing the walls last night.” Prince was getting cocky. His grin seemed to go on forever and then some.
“And you really did climb the damn walls--you pulled my symbol down by about four or five inches.” Prince flicked his fingers, indicating the symbol behind me.
I glanced at it; I was shocked to see that the symbol did indeed appear lower and a bit crooked.
I was speechless.
“I knew it must have gotten good to you. You bit my fucking neck.” Prince cackled.
I swung my head around to stare at him. “I bit you?”
I had no recollection of sinking my teeth anywhere into him. Not even when I was…
“Yeah, you bit me.” Prince pulled his robe off his left shoulder. At the bend where his neck and collarbone met was a blackish-blue half moon mark. And I could make out several tooth sized indentations in it.
I had bitten him!
“Oh, I’m sorry!” I reached out and touched it gingerly, afraid I’d hurt him more. I hoped he wasn’t angry with me.
“That’s okay. I kinda get off on that freaky stuff…” Prince leaned towards me, an arrogant expression making it’s home on his face.
“But I think you already knew that.” He chuckled again, a low bemused rumble.
He picked up the rose, and placed it behind my ear. Then he pulled his robe back into place.
He silently pinched my chin, continuing to grin.
“I like that little nightie on you. Pink is a good color for you.” He observed lowly.
“I know…but I think you like what’s under it better.” I winked at him.
“You know that’s right.” Prince laughed out loud and fluffed my hair.
I could feel my heart swelling, with admiration.
Without warning, Prince pecked at my cheek and mouth, causing me to giggle like a small child.
Satisfied, Prince stood and made his way across the room. He paused at the dresser and blew the candle out.
Out of the darkness Prince spoke,
“I’m gonna cut you loose in a dance studio today so you can work up some moves and get a feel for the songs you’re doing. I have a studio ready at Paisley Park for you, whenever you feel like going over there. That is…if you can walk.” Another chuckle.
I had to admit, my body was throbbing something fierce from my “extracurricular activities”. I felt like I had been through ‘Nam and then some.
“I’ll be fine.” I forced myself to say. “Um, for the jam session on Friday, who’s going to be playing in the band?” I wondered, trying to keep my mind off naughty things. I knew if my brain strolled off into it’s red light district, Prince would have more injuries than a bite mark on his neck.
The curtain to the large window running parallel with the bed flew open, dousing the room in blinding sunlight.
I squinted in the sudden light, Prince’s body forming another slender silhouette in the large uncut pane of glass.
“Just some people. I haven’t quite decided who yet, but while you’re rehearsing, I’ll be tying up the loose ends. I put some clothes in your room for you to wear while you’re dancing.” Prince nodded.
“Okay…” I sipped from my mug of tea, ignoring it’s pungent and sweet flavor.
I just wondered what I had gotten myself into.
And if I’d be able to get myself out of it.