Page 18 of Royal
One of the things that’s had my dick straining against this goddamn metal cup half the evening is the knowledge that underneath the skirt, she’s bare. Beckham had relayed that interesting bit of information via text, too—something about a girl coming to TZE and asking for panties. Beckham has all the luck. He watched the whole damn thing. And that means this princess, here, has pranced around the warehouse all evening with her cunt barely concealed by this tiny excuse for a skirt. And now, the thought of her arousal slicking her pussy and maybe even those soft upper thighs is almost too much to handle.
She blinks, her eyes meeting mine. “Did you— Have you been watching me? Is it you?”
“No,” I grit as I shake my head, flicking my thumb over her nipple. “If I were watching, it’d be from behind while chasing you.”
Her tongue slicks over her lower lip, and she shakes her head all while her back arches, pressing her breast to my fingers. She lets out a strangled moan. “Don’t touch me.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard that before, too. Right before you spread your legs wide for me. It’s all part of the game you like to play.” Her breath stutters out as my fingers lightly slip along the satiny flesh. Grunting in the back of my throat, I lift my hand again, bringing the evidence of her arousal between us for her to see, then place my fingers in my mouth. I fervently suck on them, the taste of her exploding on my tongue. “Even though you’re a bitter bitch, your cunt is still as sweet as ever.”
Somehow, maybe because I got a little lost in her stare, she wrestles a wrist free, and before I can secure it again, she shoves me hard in the shoulder, which gives her just enough room to swing her arm. Her loud huffed exhale is only trumped by the sharp crack of the slap she lands on my cheek. The sound of it ricochets off the walls of the room.
In my shock, I step back, and she wrenches herself from me, tugging the fabric of her bikini top back into place as she throws open the door. “Don’t you dare fucking follow me.”
TEN
WILDER
I’m sippingon some bourbon that I’d grabbed at the warehouse bar before they’d closed shop when I sense a disturbance behind me. I suppose I’d call it a sixth sense, but no matter, I’m not wrong. I swivel around just in time to see Echo barge through the crowd. I nudge Beckham, and he glances over his shoulder, his eyes widening. There are still plenty of people here—mostly those who placed bets and won. Understandable that they’d want a few more minutes to celebrate and maybe another round of drinks with friends before they go.
“Oh, shit.” Beckham clears his throat as he watches Echo fly past us. Her gaze darts frantically around the huge space, and if there’s a bet I’d be comfortable making tonight, it’s that she’s looking for Freya. I tried to keep an eye on Echo’s big sister throughout most of the fight. Didn’t need her venturing over and fucking things up for us by calling us Beckham and Wilder in front of Echo. Fortunately, Freya had been occupied sucking face with the same guy she’s with now. In any case, it’s clear Echo doesn’t see her and also that she’s very frustrated.
A moment later, she spots us watching her and shoots me a tight-lipped frown when I hold up my hand in greeting.Oof.Not a good sign. There’s no connection that she knows of between me and Royal, so it’s not that. She’s clearly upset enough that she’s not even willing to stop for a goodbye before she takes off.Fuck.She’s a girl on a mission, heading for the exit, even though it’s not the way she came in. Can’t say I blame her for not wanting to plow her way back through the crowd to get to the back exit.
Beckham brought her. Freya’s with her man. And whatever happened back there with Royal has her messed up in the head. This one’s up to me.
As she pushes the door open and heads out into the night, I turn back to Beckham. “Another opportunity. I’m on it.”
With a shrug of his shoulders, Beckham jerks his thumb in the direction of the dressing rooms. “I didn’t think that was going to go over well, the way he hauled her out of here. I’m gonna grab a bottle and hang out with him for a while. Get a little drunk. We’ll take an Uber.”
I nod, sliding the rest of my drink to him. “I should be good to drive. I barely had two fucking sips. I’ll see you back home after I drop her off.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Beckham throws back my drink, then his, points to a bottle of Herradura Legend that is Royal’s favorite tequila, and gets a nod from the familiar bartender, so he goes ahead and swipes it. He knows we’re with Royal, even if Echo doesn’t.
I move quickly toward the door, hoping I can figure out where she’s taken off to. As I exit, the humid August air is like a wall of invisible wet heat, and I don’t immediately see her, which is concerning. She may have circled to the back of the building to get her bearings since that’s the way she came. I hurry in that direction, then once I’m in the back parking lot, I scan the area.
My eyes immediately land on her. The light from the sole lamp illuminating the darkness bounces off all the glitter and sparkly shit on her outfit. There are no cars out here because everyone is parked in the deck across the street, so that little ass of hers is pretty obvious as it speed walks across the empty lot. Her head is angled down, and I can only assume she’s texting someone—probably Freya. If she’s doing what I think she is, her thumbs are busy hammering down on the phone screen. She pays zero attention to her surroundings as she continues to pick her way over the gravel, making it very easy to creep right up on her.
I get some strange looks from people heading for the parking deck, as it’s obvious I’m following her. The closer I get, the more I can make out. It’s odd. Her breath comes out in pants and strangled moans, but she’s also very clearly muttering to herself. She’s getting herself worked up like my sister does all the time.Such a dick. No right to do that. None at all. What am I going to do? Come on, Freya. Whereareyou?Then there’s more stuttered breathing, like she’s attempting to get herself under control as she picks her way toward the sidewalk.
When I place a hand on her shoulder she whirls around, mouth open, ready to scream.Yep.I was right, her phone is clutched in her hands at her chest. There’s no denying the fleeting look of irritation on her face that she tries to hide when she sees it’s me who has deigned to stop her. “What are you doing, Emory?”
“I saw you leave without Freya. And I know Benneti is inside. I thought I would offer you a ride.”
She doesn’t say anything at first, simply stares at me. Her face is a sort of mottled reddish pink, and she’s tense, her body rigid as she frantically swipes a few fingers over her cheeks. She’s notcryingcrying. She’s so angry she can’t stop the tears from sneaking out. And, oh boy, does her body language ever tell me that it’s pissing her the hell off that I’m witnessing it.
“I don’t need a ride. I’m fine. Really.” She turns and almost stumbles in the ridiculously high heels she’s wearing, but keeps right on going, her back ramrod straight.
“Are you sure? Because my truck is right there in the parking deck.” She keeps moving, so I follow a few paces behind.
“I’m not your concern.”
Technically not, no, but— I can’t let her walk around in the middle of the fucking night all the way back to campus. “I’m concerned because you’ve already demonstrated that you’re so involved with your phone and so upset that I was able to put a hand on you before you knew I was there. That makes me fucking nervous.”
“I’mnotupset,” she tosses over her shoulder as she stalks away from me. Her body disagrees. It gives an involuntary shuddering quake from head to toe.
Could’ve fooled me.
A slurred voice rumbles out from somewhere behind me. “Hey, baby, looking good tonight.” He lets out a low whistle that has Echo picking up speed.
