Page 76 of Smolder

When she reached the bottom stair, her eyes met mine, and then they dropped to the book I was holding. “Talk about porn.”

I held up my book. “Nothing aboutTo Kill a Mockingbirdcould be considered porn.”

She grinned as she sauntered over to me. The sweatsuit she was wearing did nothing to ease my need for her. It didn’t matter what she was wearing. Royal Shelton was a constant smolder. Her appeal never faded. She was always there, making me ache to touch her. Keep her close.

“I meant the sight of you sitting there, all six foot three inches of sexy man candy, with a book in your hand. That’s my kind of porn.”

I dropped my gaze back to the book. “In that case, let me read some more.”

Her laughter made my chest feel light as she sank down beside me on the sofa, curling her feet beneath her. “I used the cream you’d set out for my bottom,” she told me.

The reminder of her perfect, round red ass made my cock twitch.

Down, boy. You’ve had plenty.

“I’d have done it, but then I’d have ended up fucking you again,” I told her, closing the book and putting it on the table beside me.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

I laid my head back and closed my eyes tightly. “It will be if I fuck us both to death.”

“I think you might be a tad bit dramatic, but I digress.” She finished with her hair, folded the towel neatly, and then set it down before standing back up. “Got to brush it.”

I watched her, wishing I could see her naked red ass with my handprints on it. “Bring me the brush. Let me do it.”

She stopped and glanced back over her shoulder. “You want to brush my hair?”

I nodded.

Her lips curled up at the corners. “Okay.”

I wondered if anyone had ever brushed her hair. How much had she done for herself as a child? Her Grams seemed nice, but I didn’t know the woman she had been when she was in her right mind.

Had she done things for Royal that mothers did? Fuck knew her father hadn’t.

She didn’t talk about her mom. I knew more about the woman than she did. I wondered if she wanted to meet her. See her. Have any relationship with her. Not that the bitch deserved it for leaving her with Vinson Shelton.

Royal came back, holding the brush, with a sway to her hips. “Since we aren’t naked and crazed, can we talk about how long you think we are going to be here? And maybe you could tell me where we are.”

She held the brush out to me, and I grabbed a pillow and put it on the floor between my feet. Royal looked at it, then grinned before sitting down and crossing her legs with her back to me.

I slowly ran the bristles through her damp locks. If she was going to trust me again, then I had to trust her. After last night, I wanted to believe she wouldn’t try and leave.

“I think, under the circumstances, about a week,” I told her. Although I wanted it to be longer than that.

I also knew that no amount of covering my tracks was going to stop my father from finding me. It might take them longer than usual because I knew how they found people, but in the end, Wilder was the genius who could trace just about anyone. He just needed a crumb, and he’d find one.

“Do we have enough food for a week?”

“Yeah. Enough for two.”

“I’ll be a missing person. Probably already am.”

I enjoyed watching the brush glide through the silky strands.

“Missing people don’t send texts, telling those they are close to that they’re going to look for their dad and not take their phone, for fear he might track it. That they have a burner and will contact them in a week, if not sooner, but not to worry. That they’re fine and they have someone with them.”

She spun around and looked up at me, wide-eyed. “You sent that?”

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