Risky and Wild(3)

“Your sister said that Brent's death came as a bit of a shock?” he says, but he's not even looking at me, his eyes on his computer as he focuses on whatever it is he does in here. I make a noise that's half-acknowledgment and half-dismissal. “This isn't the greatest news, obviously. But I have a contact that says Brent was facing criminal charges as well as looking at a dismissal from the FBI. It makes sense that he'd want to take his own life, and why not here? In beautiful Trinidad. Just steps away from Heaven.”

“You never miss a chance to grab an angle, do you?” I ask, pointing my finger at my dad and trying not to scream. I'm upset about Brent, not devastated, but upset. My dad doesn't even care. Does he have any idea what his son was up to? That he and Brent were screwing around with the Alpha Wolves? God. What a mess.

I reach up a hand and find my bun has come undone again. Not a surprise. My neat, little life is about to turn into a shit storm.

“Life is all about turning tragedies around on their head,” Philip continues, looking up at me with a mild half-smile on his face. “Like you did with the Wolves. Now that we've got everything settled up on paper, we'll put their name on a plaque and assign them a highway to clean up, get them to do a holiday toy drive or something. The public will see that I'm cleaning up the city both physically and metaphorically. You've done well, Lyric, although I'm sure you know that.”

I stare back at him, but I don't feel like I've done anything but stir up trouble. And death.

“Stop by the hospital on your way home and visit your brother, will you?” he asks as I sigh and drop my hands to my sides. I nod, but my skin is itching to see Royal. I want his hands all over me, his mouth on mine, his body buried inside of me.

But I also kind of want to pretend I never met him.

I stare at my dad for another minute before I realize that he's just effectively dismissed me.

Great.

I head back to my desk and work until everyone else is gone, until the sky is dipped in inky darkness speckled with stars. I have no phone so there's no way for Royal to contact me. Since it's after five, if he calls into the office, he'll get my sister's desk and it'll go straight to voice mail.

I take comfort in that, in knowing that the downstairs doors are triple locked and covered with security cameras. The whole time I'm working, I know that I'm really running. From Brent's death. From Royal. From yesterday.

Never thought I'd say this so bloody soon, but … you got it, love. I'm yours.

I sigh and put my head in my hands.

“Yesterday feels like a fairy tale,” I whisper as I rub my temples in slow circles.

“We can always recreate that,” Royal says and I scream, standing up so quick from my desk that the rolling chair topples to the floor. When I glance up, he's just … sitting there and staring at me with a stupid smirk on his face. With a creak of leather, Royal rises to his feet and moves over to me, putting his palms flat on my desk. “Come on, love, how about a kiss for your old man?”

“How did you get in here?” I choke, deciding to ignore the old man comment as he reaches his right hand back to his jeans and slides out a ring of keys. I recognize the Victoria's Secret PINK keychain as Kailey's.

“Pinched it off your sister,” he tells me, tossing them in my direction. “You didn't hear me come up?”

“I was too busy thinking about Brent's suicide,” I snap back as I curl my fingers around the silver keys and glare at him. Even if—and this is a very slim if—he didn't have anything to do with Brent's death, I'm sure he knows all about it. “Something you failed to mention to me while you were sucking on my tits yesterday.” I color at the words, but I use them anyway. Something about Royal McBride makes me feel bold.

“That would've killed the bloody mood, don't you think?” he asks me, staring back like this is no big deal. At least, that's what his mouth says, but his eyes … his pupils are dilated and the muscles in his cheek twitch ever so slightly. “I thought you said you hated that tosser anyhow?”

“You're avoiding the question.”

Royal comes around the desk suddenly and pushes me back with his body, right into the wall of glass windows that lead to my dad's office. The breath whooshes out of me, and I feel like I'm on fire as I crane my neck back to look up at him.

“You didn't ask one,” he states simply, leaning down and capturing my mouth as the fingers of his right hand slide along my jaw. Royal nibbles at my lower lip with his teeth, dragging a groan from my chest that I can't seem to keep quiet. Oh. Now I remember why I agreed to date the asshole.

I lift my hands up and put them flat against his chest, the soft cotton of his t-shirt strained over those taut muscles. Before I know it, they're roving up and under his cut, over his shoulders, fingers squeezing tight.