Secret Love - The King & His Forgotten Queen (E.P)

Lay Down The Law

The sun shone high above Vegas and almost blinded Demi as she woke up. Putting her hand in front of her face, she could now see the situation her years of repressed lust had put her in. Elvis lay next to her, sound asleep, probably unaware that he had just cheated on his wife with a woman who, for once, wasn’t a stranger. Demi wasn’t stupid; she knew Elvis slept around with women all the time. But she wasn’t just any woman; she was part of the Presley’s extended family. She was Elvis’ childhood friend, Priscilla’s best friend and Lisa Marie’s godmother. This meant that the minute she let Elvis in, so to speak, she had put herself in deep shit. As Elvis stirred, Demi felt that feeling from last night wash over her. She didn’t care. And it killed her. But when his bright blue eyes looked at her, she melted. “Mornin’ honey.” He whispered. Demi smiled. She kissed his lips tenderly. “Afternoon, actually.”

Elvis waited patiently for Demi to get dressed. Joe had managed to secure some clothes for her and she had rushed off into his closet to get ready for the day. She reappeared 15 minutes later, wearing a red shift dress and black heels, looking every inch a lady. “Well, it’s certainly not something I’d pick out for myself. But it’ll do I suppose.” She muttered, walking back over to Elvis. He put his arms around her and raised an eyebrow. “Are you wearing a bra?” He asked, his hands feeling her back. She nodded, smiling. “Also not something I usually do. But, hey ho. Joe obviously thought I should look like a lady since I wasn’t much of one last night.” “But you were definitely a woman.” Elvis replied, smirking. Demi chuckled. “Don’t get any ideas, lover boy. We’re in serious shit now.” Elvis frowned, letting her go. “How’d you work that out?” He asked, wrapping the bed sheets tightly around his hips. Demi sat down at the vanity and started to apply the make Joe had also brought for her. “E, Priscilla is my best girlfriend and I’ve just slept with her husband. Her husband being you…” “I know I’m her husband.” Elvis interrupted. “I sometimes doubt that, knowing the way you carry on behind her back.” Demi replied. Elvis sighed, watching Demi as she carefully applied her eyeliner. He desperately wanted to tell she was doing it all wrong. But Demi wasn’t a pushover like Cilla. Cilla lived to please Elvis; Demi lived to please herself. “Elvis, if you’re even thinking of telling me how to apply my makeup, you’re never getting in my panties again. In fact, you won’t have the equipment to get into any girl’s panties again, if you catch my drift.” Elvis couldn’t help but chuckle. He jokingly placed a protective hand over his package and tried to look scared. “Please ma’am, don’t do that to me. I won’t be any good to you without it.” “You’ll still be able to sing to me.” Demi replied, finishing off her eyeliner. With both eyes now made up, she finished with a lick of lipstick. Turning to face him, Demi sighed. “In all seriousness: what are we gonna do, Elvis?” “Why do we have to do anything? We’ve waited this long. And we both knew, from the day we met again, that this was bound to happen. You must have known it, deep down in your soul, because you told me on that first day that you weren’t interested in being my girl.” “I still ain’t interested in being your girl.” Demi replied. Elvis chuckled and took her hand. They sat back down on the end of the bed, their fingers intertwined. “That’s the thing: you’re not a little girl anymore. You’re a grown woman. What would we have done if we’d jumped at the chance to be together back then?” “We wouldn’t have lasted, E. And you know it. You loved Cilla then… and then you met Ann-Margret and you were with all those other girls and I was just a pal, one of the boys. And, just like the boys, I’d had my fair share of one-night stands. You accommodated some of them.” “I did?” Demi nodded, her eyes gleaming and her smile mischievous. “The house you bought me in Memphis? A few fans spent some quality time with me there. There was one in the house in L.A. you also bought me… and there was one in Graceland.” Elvis should have been angry; his mother had lived in that house. But this was Demi. And his mother had always loved her. Besides, he knew what Demi was like. She was as promiscuous as he was. “Do I know the guy?” He asked finally. Demi shrugged. “We were dating. You met him once. But, as I always do, once we’d been in the sack, I tossed him away like yesterday’s leftovers. I think I did that because of you, y’know.” “Hey! Don’t blame me for your failed relationships!” Elvis exclaimed, holding his hands up. “It’s a good job I’ve seen it all, because that sheet is dangerously close to coming off you completely.” Demi pointed out. “Not that you would complain if it did.” Elvis replied, his tone suddenly seductive. Demi laughed, shaking her head. “Maybe later. I just did my makeup. But seriously: I think I tossed all those poor guys away because they just weren’t you.” Elvis sighed. That’s basically what he’d been doing too. Besides Priscilla and Ann, all his other girlfriends were just a way of distracting himself from the fact that Demi was determined never to be his. “So what do we do now? Was this just another one-night stand? Are you gonna toss me away too?” Elvis asked, trying hard not to get upset. Demi chuckled and looked up to meet his gaze. She searched his blue eyes; all she could see was love. Love for her. She cupped his cheek, and he covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry.” She whispered. Elvis tried desperately not to cry. “I’m sorry… but there’s no getting rid of me now.” Elvis’ eyes widened. Demi smiled. “I’m sorry that what we’re doing will hurt Cilla when she finds out. But I’ve dreamt of last night for years. And now that it’s happened, I don’t want to give it up.” “So… we’re together now?” Elvis asked. “I suppose. But I don’t want any of this Southern male bullshit. I’ve had boyfriends like that in the past and it’s the reason they never got into my panties. I do what I want, dress how I want, apply my makeup how I want, have my hair how I want, and so on… Got it?” Elvis nodded. “Scouts honour.” He replied. Demi laughed. “You were never a scout!” She said. “If I was, I’d have got a badge for world’s best lover.” Elvis replied, seduction lacing his voice again. “Prove it.” Demi replied, her tone matching his. “I thought you didn’t want to mess up your makeup?” Elvis replied, smiling. Demi shrugged. “You can mess up and show me how you like Cilla to do hers. Then I’ll never do it like that again.” “Is that a challenge?” Elvis asked. “It ain’t no challenge when it’s clear I’m gonna win.” Demi replied, kicking her shoes off and edging closer to him. Elvis chuckled. “You’re too much like me for your own good.” He told her, unzipping her dress.