Royal(67)

“You’re a teacher. You can get a job anywhere.” I kiss the tip of her nose, moving to the sides of her mouth and trailing down her neck. I could eat her alive, she’s so fucking delicious.

“Royal . . .”

Sliding my hands down her thighs, I cup her ass and lift her on top of the counter. Our stares hold, and her eyes wince like she’s concentrating.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

“I told my parents about you.” Her words come in one long exhale.

“Ah, shit.”

“Or at least Dad and Derek.”

“And?”

“Dad freaked out. Said you did something disgusting.”

“Of course he said that.” I smack my tongue, hooking my hands on my hips and staring off. Those were the words he used that night, too.

“And Derek knows,” she says. I glance up at her, watching as she chews the inner corner of her pouty lip. “He’s known since law school. Guess he had access to some confidential files. But he wouldn’t say much. Legally . . . he can’t.” She inhales, her entire body shifting. “Did you hurt someone, Royal?”

“No.” My hands find hers. “Demi, how much do you know?”

“I don’t know anything.” Her hair drips down her shoulder when she tilts her face to her left side, her eyes never leaving mine. “But I want to know . . .”

She lifts my hands and drops them in her lap, dragging her fingers between mine.

“These hands . . .” she says, interlacing hers with mine. My hands have touched her lips, traced her body, knotted in her hair, and pleasured her from the inside out. “How bad can they be?”

“I wouldn’t touch you—I wouldn’t come anywhere near you—if I was a bad person, Demi. I swear to you.”

“Then why’d you stay away? Tell me the truth.”

I clear my throat. “We’ve already had this conversation. Your dad warned me to stay away from you. And you seemed happy. Happy without me.”

“Bullshit. I don’t buy that.” Demi releases my hands, folding them across her chest. “Those are weak reasons, Royal.”

“It’s more complicated than that.” My body grows hot, then cold, then numb. And my stomach churns. The heaviness consuming my chest steals my breath.

I have to tell her . . .

. . . I have to tell her everything . . .

. . . before I lose her forever.

“Society has labeled me a monster,” I begin, bracing my stance.

Three loud thumps on the door send my heart into my chest.

Demi slides off the counter and tiptoes to the foyer. I stay back, out of sight, and watch the flash of red, white, and blue lights from the driveway shine in through the front windows.

“What’s this about?” Demi asks.

“Ma’am, this is your eviction notice,” a sheriff’s deputy says.

“Seriously? Are the lights really necessary?” She yanks the paper from his hand and peers up and down the street. I’m sure her neighbors are all peeking out from behind their custom Roman shades. “A little overkill, don’t you think?”

“You have twenty-four hours to vacate the premises.”

Demi slams the door and shuffles back, her hands digging into her scalp and the eviction notice floating to the floor in a crumpled ball.

“How can Brooks evict you?” I ask.

“He owns this house, remember? When we moved in, he made me sign a lease. You know, to protect both of us. But I never paid rent. He never wanted me to me pay a single penny. This was just a formality.” She slumps over the island. “So yeah, legally, since I haven’t paid any rent to him—ever—he can serve me with an eviction notice.”

“Fuck that asshole.”

She turns to me, dark hair covering her face, and huffs. “Fuck him so hard. In the ass. God, I hope he goes to prison. Screw it. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure he spends time behind bars, and it’s not going to be some white-collar minimum security retreat either.”

“Demi.” I grab the flap of a cardboard box and drag it off the counter. “Let’s channel this energy on productive things. Like getting you all moved out before that asshat deputy comes back tomorrow with a padlock for the door and a pair of handcuffs for you. You’re too pretty for jail anyway. Those women would fucking feast on you . . .”

I slip my hands behind her ass and cup her perfect cheeks, pressing her against me.

“Stop.” She tries not to smile as she smacks my chest. “Fine. Let’s pack. And let’s make sure we accidentally pack some of his shit.”

“Which will of course get lost in the move, because that’s just what happens sometimes . . .”