Page 8 of Royal
What. The. Hell. I glance down at my chest. My stomach flips over, wondering what is going to be expected of me. Have I been thrown to the lions?
Once the door clicks shut, I stand up, putting my hands on my hips. “When you say ‘fight night’—what is that, exactly?” I exhale hard, waiting for an answer, and when it’s not immediate, I continue. “I don’t think I fully understand what’s happened. How much trouble is drawing my name for this going to cause?”
Freya moves to stand beside me, throwing an arm around my back and giving me a side hug. “It’s going to cost us a metric fuck ton of bitchiness around here.”
Cassie sucks in some air through her teeth. “But don’t worry about that right now. Better to tell you what to expect so you can mentally prepare yourself.”
I scrape my teeth over my bottom lip as Freya gives me a reassuring pat on the shoulder as she releases me to perch on the edge of the coffee table.
“So, technically”—Cassie’s eyes travel to Freya, and the two of them exchange an odd look—“no one is supposed to know about the cage fights that happen on Sundays. Or, at least we aren’t supposed to talk about them. But a lot of guys from the fraternities like to fight at these events. There are winnings for the victors—and we even get a cut, too—but for most of these guys, it’s more about the status it gives them.”
“So, this is about the honor and notoriety of being chosen for this particular duty.” I nod, beginning to truly understand why the new girl getting to do this is a problem.
Cassie grins through clenched teeth at me. “And our brother frat—the SIN brothers?—they are something else. Different. The bad boys of campus. But totally…”
“Hot. The word she’s looking for is hot.” Freya gives a dainty shrug. “I said what I said.”
I exhale slowly. “So, it’s not only about being seen, but being seen by these guys in particular.”
“Yep,” Cassie confirms. “You’ve got it. There are only so many fight nights per semester… and we’re limited to sending one girl to perform cage girl duties for each SIN fight.”
Freya gives me a wickedly excited smile as she wriggles her brows. “And honey, this first coveted spot—it’s all you.”
FIVE
WILDER
The bruise inflictedby Royal last night is now featured prominently on my smoothly shaven jaw. It fuckin’ hurts like a bitch. I like it. I’m sick like that, though. Turning my head to inspect the damage, I rub an open palm over the purple-hued skin. Thatfucker.
I shake my head, laughing to myself. It’s all good, though, anytime he wants to go a round or three, I’m down. Working my jaw to the side, I push away from where I’d been leaning forward against the sink and ease back to splash my face with water. A gasp of air erupts from my lungs as the biting cold of it snaps me out of my mind’s wanderings. Time to go inspect the rest of the injuries that were inflicted. It’s always something around here—it’d been a typical night for SIN. Maybe even a mild one, compared to some nights.
On the way to the staircase, I rap a few roughed-up knuckles on Beckham’s door—relishing the pain—but there’s no response, so the asshole is either still sleeping like a log or is downstairs scarfing down something for lunch, I guess, since it’s nearing noon. But the man is like a human garbage can. It’s completely normal to find him eating a huge bowl of pasta before leaving for class first thing in the morning or a bowl of ice cream at 2 a.m. Fucking weirdo. Anyway, my bet is on him being in bed still since we had a late night, but I’m not going into his room to find out.
Flashing back to last night, my mind fills with the heady sensation of his firm lips on my mouth, his slick tongue seeking. It’d all been part of the plan, Beckham’s grand fucking idea—ofcourseit had been—to pretend to be a gay couple. We’d been tasked with distracting Echo from what’d just happened to her at Royal’s hands, and I think we did a bang-up job. Pun intended.
I’d told him, the only way I’d go along with it is if I got to play the part of the aggressor, pushing him up against a tree. And yeah, I’d rubbed up on him, in control one minute and out of control the next. The friction between us had been lethal, and the hotter things got, the more prominent Beck’s erection became between us, the bastard. Lust shot through my veins as my dick responded in kind. Right there, for anyone to see if they chose to come looking for us.
This thing between Beckham and me—I’m not ready for other people to know about it yet. My jaw tightens and twitches as I consider how I almost hadn’t heard Echo’s approach because I was so fucking into it. Beckham does something to me that I haven’t quite come to terms with, especially now that we’ve veered into new territory.
Shaking myself free of my lingering confusion, I steer my thoughts back to Echo.
Last night, she’d been frightened. Chased. Captured. And oddly enough, released. I hadn’t taken Royal for one to delay the inevitable, but perhaps he has a reason for drawing out her punishment. Because punishing her is, indeed, what he intends to do.
I blow out a harsh breath. If I were him, I’d probably have fucked her right there on the forest floor. Hot and dirty and rough. It does things to me, simply thinking about it. He hasn’t told us the specifics of what led to this. And he doesn’t have to, but he wants our help with it. I’ll offer mine freely, especially if it means getting to play with Echo and make her scream. I’d like the chance to swat her fine ass. Feel it warm with each delicious strike of my hand. Chuckling internally, I shake my head. I’m getting ahead of myself.
We all have pasts here at SIN. Plenty of us don’t want to breathe a word about what brought us here, and I’d wager every one of us has at least one secret we’re hiding.
In any case, Royal’s given us free rein to do what we want to Echo to help him get her the fuck out of here, and I intend to take him up on that offer. Just have to play my cards right and I’ll have her eating out of “Emory’s” hand in no time flat. Beckham might be the ladies’ man, but I have charm oozing from my pores when I need it to. Women are attracted to a bad boy, and that’s me to the fuckin’ core. With all manner of unholy thoughts swirling through my head, I drop a hand to my dick, giving myself a slight readjustment.
Downstairs, I come to the conclusion that Beckham is still asleep, as he’s nowhere to be found in the kitchen or dining room. I head for the den and discover Royal sprawled across one of the plush leather chairs in the corner. A coffee cup rests on his chest, held steady with one hand, as his gaze remains trained on his phone.
I dart forward, and as I swipe his phone from his hold, he grunts, his brow furrowing at my audacity. I laugh at the rage immediately bubbling from him as he shoots from his seat. “Calm the fuck down. I just wanted your attention.” I chuck the phone back at him, and he catches it in midair right before it plows into his chin. The look he shoots at me is disgruntled at best. Too bad I didn’t nail him. That would have been quite the entertaining start to our morning. Besides, splitting his chin wouldn’t be so bad. He could use a scar on that pretty face of his.
I sit on the arm of the couch to his left and from under hooded eyes I study him. My lips twitch, but I can’t hold my comment in. “I banged up your cheek pretty good, huh?”
He flips me the bird, rolling his green eyes to the ceiling.
At that moment, the front door opens and closes with a slam. I frown. Making that kind of noise before noon on a Saturday is really fuckin’ annoying. And the only one of us who is ever out and about this early is Royal because he likes a midmorning run, even when hungover. So I have no clue who the fuck just walked into our house. Frowning, I wait a beat as there’s some shuffling, then what sounds like luggage rolling on wheels down the hallway.
