Royal(68)

“You’re bad.”

Her smile fades for a second, and maybe she’s replaying our pre-eviction notice conversation in her head.

I need to think fast. Distract her. Anything to keep from having to tell her yet. We’re on the right track. I think she could love me again. I just need a little more time with her, a little more time to remind her that I’m not what they say I am. I didn’t do anything wrong. And I love her just as much now as I ever did before.

And maybe the truth is, I’m the one who’s not ready. Because if I tell Demi what happened, and she doesn’t believe me?

I’ll lose her.

All over again.

Forever.

And I can’t fucking live without this woman.





Chapter Thirty-Six




Demi



His lips silence my thoughts, absorbing my curiosity, albeit temporarily. My hands hook his broad shoulders and my nails snake through his soft, thick hair, raking his scalp. I pull back for a moment because I want to look into his eyes, and when I do, I see a bad boy and a good man, and I’m not sure how that can be.

His metallic scent fills my lungs, and the thought of his dirty hands all over me makes my body hum with life. His fingers tug at the hem of my shirt before boldly slipping under and caressing my breasts.

I draw in a slick breath and hold it as he massages the ache in my peaked buds. Lifting the shirt, he brings his mouth to one of my nipples, drawing it in with gentle, warm sucks and flicking it with his tongue.

I can’t breathe, my head falling back.

The window by the breakfast nook is uncovered, and I’m sure the Manchesters across the street are getting an eyeful, but I’m too preoccupied to care. I never did like them anyway.

This street is pretentious as hell, and I never really belonged here anyway. This was all Brooks’s doing.

Royal’s hands clutch my sides and he wraps my thighs against his side. He kisses my neck before cupping my ass and sliding me off the kitchen island. I hook my arms around his neck as he carries me toward the foyer.

“Where are you taking me?” My words are a breathless whisper, and certainly not a protest.

He doesn’t answer. He only carries me up the stairs, one by one, making me feel light and weightless in his hold. My stomach swarms with butterflies, and my heart pulses with each step.

Turning the corner at the top, I slide off him, and his hands press into my hips, guiding me backward until we hit a wall. A framed portrait of Brooks and me falls, the glass popping out of the frame.

When I glance down to look at it, Royal cups my chin and redirects my attention to him.

“Fuck that guy,” he whispers before claiming my mouth again. His kiss is harder this time, more in control than ever before. But I have to admit, he was always in control.

This man is my weakness.

I’m addicted, and he’s my fix.

Royal’s mouth drags from mine, his thumb pressing into my collarbone as he lowers his mouth to my belly. Pushing my shirt out of the way, he unbuttons my jeans and slides them down, along with my panties, and peels them off.

Spreading my thighs, the next thing I feel is the warmth of his wet tongue invading my damp center. His finger slides between my seam, pressing inside me as he circles my clit.

I have to brace myself against the wall when my thighs shake. The scruff of his five o’clock shadow brushes against my inner thighs, creating a sweet trifecta of sensations.

He’s completely focused on me. My needs. My pleasure.

I’d almost forgotten what it was like to have a man put me first. His licks and strokes are equally tender and heart-stopping. A sweet, yet painful reminder of everything I’ve missed the last seven years.

My sex aches for more, for him, for that connection I crave so deeply it terrifies me.

Royal abandons me seconds before I reach my peak, rising slowly until our eyes meet and his heat radiates through me.

He kisses me once more, and I taste myself on him. I taste what he does to me. His hand cups the side of my face, his fingers behind my neck.

“Come on,” he whispers, his mouth still pressed against mine.

His hand drags down my arm until he laces his fingers into mine, and then he leads me into my bedroom, guiding me to the center of the bed I’ve shared with Brooks for years.

The discordant feeling I get when I sprawl across the center of this bed is quickly overshadowed by the ripe rush that floods through me when I watch Royal yank his belt open and unzip the fly of his gray work pants.

In an instant, he’s naked and on top of me, his thick erection grazing my trembling inner thighs. I want to feel him inside me, all of him, with nothing between us.

His hips buck and move, his cock teasing my slit. He presses his half-open lips against mine, dragging my lower lip between his teeth and releasing it. When he claims my mouth again, I feel him smile.