Page 31 of Royal
Running is usuallythe one surefire way I know of to clear my mind. I missed it like crazy when I was in prison. An hour a day outside with a bunch of other assholes didn’t cut it. Since getting out, I’ve gone right back to my old habits, pounding the pavement whenever things are overwhelming or there’s lots of shit on my mind.
Only now the shit on my mind is right in front of my face, and even a good run isn’t enough for me to feel better about it. I ran myself hard, too, the evidence of it pouring down my chest and back. As I enter the house, I hear voices coming from the kitchen area. Don’t particularly feel like talking to anyone, but I need water, so fuck it.
The moment I enter the room where a couple of the guys are gathered, my jaw locks and my eyes harden. Case in point. Fucking Davis is right here. In my kitchen. Talking to people I know and acting like everything is all good. Motherfucking ex-friends are the worst.
“What’s up, Royal?” Dan, the big motherfucker who’s a year ahead of me, grins. He’s kinda happy-go-lucky most of the time until he’s pissed off. At that point, he’d probably chop the offender’s toes off and feed them to a dog. No one wants to be on his bad side. Makes me wonder what his life was like before SIN. Fucked if I’ll ever ask, though.
I nod at him. “Nothing much. Need water and a shower.” I turn to the fridge and open it, staring inside as if the appliance holds the answers to how to deal with the bastard that is my ex-friend watching my every move. I can’t even fucking concentrate with the douchebag in the room.
“You always did like to run.” Davis’s voice is low. And I fucking hate that he thinks he has a right to pretend like he knows me anymore.
We might live in the same house, but I don’t owe him a damn thing. Paid my dues. Survived the system. All I want to do is put my troubling past behind me. His ugly mug in my face 24-7 isn’t going to help, as it’s a reminder of how angry he was with me at my drunken confession and how fucking stupid we were in the moments that followed. I deserve to feel whatever way I want about him. And right now, I’m pissed. He’d best stay out of my way. I grab a bottle of water and walk out without another word, heading upstairs to my room.
“Yo. Royal. Is that you?” Wilder pokes his head out of his doorway, toying with a necklace he often wears. “I wanted to talk to you for a sec.”
“Yeah?”
“Just wanted to make sure you were aware of a couple things.” He rubs his hand over a smooth-shaven cheek. “It’s about Echo.”
My brows immediately knit together. His tone is a bit off. It’s setting off alarm bells in my head. I blow out a hard breath, swiping one hand through my sweaty hair. “Can it wait until after I shower?”
He shrugs. “I guess. I’ll be studying. Already had a heap of work piled on me today.”
“Well, that sucks. I thought you were taking it easy this semester.”
Huffing out a laugh, he shakes his head. “Only in that I’m finally fulfilling that arts requirement, so I get to doodle or whatever a few hours a week in an art class. The rest of the courses I need before nursing school are all fucking tough.”
“That sucks. Mine are fine so far. Probably for the best because I have enough shit to deal with at the moment. I’ll be quick, then we can talk. You seen Beckham around?”
“Nah, not since this morning.” He inhales deeply, and he may think he hides it well, but I can see I’ve moved into territory he’d rather not be discussing.Interesting.His gaze skirts away from me.
“Cool. Give me ten, and I’ll join you,” I grit out, then duck into my room. Inside, I toe off my running shoes, then peel off my socks before making a beeline for the bathroom. I don’t have a fucking clue what makes me do it, but I glance out the sole window, only to stop dead in my tracks. Echo. I can see directly into her bedroom from here. The other day, I actually watched Beckham peeping on her, just like I’d asked him to. Sick fuck was under her window in a black hoodie and mask. I know he gets off on this shit. He’s a bit obsessive. Can’t help but wonder if it has something to do with why he’s at SIN in the first place. Could be fucking anything, though.
I bring my attention back to the girl across the way, sprawled across her mattress. It looks like she’s reading a textbook or something, and she’s got a notebook on the bed with her, too, pencil in hand. My eyes roam from what she’s working on to the dipped curve of her back, then up and over the rounded one of her ass, and down her shapely legs. If I’m not mistaken from the concert tour info on the back of her T-shirt, she’s wearing the same outfit she had on earlier. It’s a Metallica T-shirt. She used to wear it all the time in high school.
Shucking my athletic shorts from my hips, I stand there, buck naked, continuing to watch her alternately tap her pencil against her lips and jot things down in her notebook.
Fuck. My body stirs as I look at her, the way it always has—it’s undeniable the pull I have toward her. The need I have for her. Even when it was wrong. Even when I shouldn’t have been fucking looking at her at all.
It’s enough to make a man insane. She most definitely isn’t the kind of girl I want. She ripped my heart out. And now? She’s playing with my head by being here. And it’s so fucking tempting to retaliate.
With a disgruntled groan, I turn on the water and step into my walk-in shower. The water is cool, just how I like it post-run, but it does nothing to soothe the heat rolling through my veins. I squirt some soap into my hands and run them over my body, unable to think of anything else. I can’t get the mental image of her out of my head, not even when I close my eyes. She’s there, like a plague to my system, a sickness that I can’t remove. It wouldn’t matter if I tried to hack my need for her out of me with a knife. It’d just come back, and with a vengeance, like it has ever since she got to Kingston University.
I’m so fucking aware of her proximity, I can hardly catch my breath. My hands roam over my body. This is what she’d felt. It’d been fucking ecstasy to have my hands on her. Touching her. Slipping my fingers along her wet pussy.Fuck.She’d always been wet for me. That’s how I knew no matter what she said or did, she wanted me. That her hate-filled words were all a motherfucking game.
I rest one hand on the tiles of the shower, reaching between my legs to grasp my aching cock. It wants her so badly it weeps for her. I run my thumb over the moisture beading at the tip, and smear it over me, knowing it’s all for her. With a heavy groan, I begin to stroke myself. It feels so fucking good. Italwaysdoes.
I swear when she decided I wasn’t enough for her, she cursed me so that I’d want her until the day I fucking died. And now? She’s here, within my grasp again, and I want more. It’s a strange mixture of hatred and lust that’s spinning around in my head, making me a feral beast. I want to chase her down and take a motherfucking bite.
I gasp as my dick twitches hard in my hand. It knows what it’s been missing. I want to plunge deep into her tight little cunt. Feel the velvety soft walls clamp down hard, trying to hold me inside. Pull out. Ram back in. Listen to the snap of my hips hitting her ass cheeks. Watch the way her eyes become unfocused as I fuck her so good her legs quake as she screams my name. Remind her of everything she threw away. Remind her how she treated me like trash. She never reached out. Not once.
My heart pumps the blood through me so hard, I wonder if I’m going to pass out, hard dick in hand, before I can finish. But I keep going, imagining her legs spread out before me, her pink pussy on display, glistening with arousal. Dripping with it. I want my face between her legs. I’d feast on her flesh, lap up every bit of her juices, make her lose all control. Make her beg for the orgasm.
And then, I’d leave. Like she left me.
I tighten my fist around my erection, until it’s almost too much, then fuck my hand like a brute, hips pistoning fast. The wet squelching sounds created by what I’m doing, well I’ll pretend that’s the sound of her cunt taking my dick. And with my eyes clamped shut, I can imagine it’s her. I’ve had so much practice going somewhere else in my head while I sought release. Because if I hadn’t, I’d never have survived.
Such a good little princess. Such a good girl. Give me that tight, wet pussy. Squeeze me tighter, baby. You know you want me. You know you like this. Take it. Take every fucking inch. Milk me dry.
