Page 51 of Royal
After shifting back and forth on my feet for way too long, I come to the conclusion that she’s not home. None of them appear to be. I should probably thank my lucky stars Mr. Madden isn’t here to whip open the door and strangle me where I stand.Fuck.I grip the back of my neck with both hands and turn around, surveying the neighborhood. It’s getting dark now. I guess I could drive around a bit. If she spent all day here, it makes sense that she could be walking back to TZE now. Groaning, I stalk back to the truck and drive off.
I turn over in my head where else she could be. And ponder the disappearing act. I get that Beckham must have scared the shit out of her somehow—don’t even fucking want to know what he pulled in there—and made it so she didn’t want to sleep in her room. But to be MIA the entire day is bizarre.
A fit of frustrated, frenzied anger slams through me, and, almost as if I’m not in control of my body, my fist smashes down on the steering wheel. My chest clenches hard, and my jaw clamps down mercilessly. I’m definitely not reacting well to having been unsuccessful at finding her. I make a loop around the neighborhood and drive down a few side streets, but there are very few people out and about other than those getting home from work.
I end up taking a street that borders the woods on the backside of Greek Row toward the north entrance to campus. And that’s when I spot her walking along the road with her backpack slung over her shoulders. A moment later, she veers off the pavement and into the trees.
What the fucking hell does she think she’s doing? True, it’s the fastest route to campus, and if she travels in a straight path through the wooded area, she’ll eventually emerge at the clearing on the other side and find the half wall that runs behind Greek Row. Then it’s just a matter of climbing over and walking across the back lawn to her sorority.
Not if I fucking catch her first, though.
TWENTY-FOUR
ROYAL
I throwmyself out of the truck, my chest heaving as I peer through the trees in the direction Echo took. It sends my mind back to every other time I pursued her along wooded trails after practice. The memories expand and contract in my head until I have no choice but to allow myself to sprint after her. I’m rocked by a wicked mixture of anger and lust, and it shakes me to my very core. My breathing is ragged, but I don’t care if she hears me coming. Stealth is not the point. It’s always been that she likes the idea of me capturing her. And I’ve always fucking loved catching her to take what I want. She once told me it made everything so much more intense for her—and no matter what, she wanted me, so I should keep coming. And she was fucking right. The times she pretended I was like an animal hunting her—those were the best and gave us the biggest rush.
I’m sure she’ll probably regret all that now, but I don’t give a fuck. I dash headlong through the trees, hearing the crunch of leaves under her feet and the rustle of branches up ahead of me. It all feeds into that place in my brain that screamsChase her.
When will she realize I’m here? I’m not being quiet in the slightest. To my surprise, I catch up to her, finding her squatted down, tying her shoe. Her backpack sits at her side. A deep chuckle rolls from me. Perfect. But she doesn’t respond to my laughter, and that’s when I realize why she hasn’t flipped out—my girl has her earbuds in. She doesn’t have a fucking clue I’m here. Time to turn the terror up a notch.
I creep forward, never hesitating as I bend over her to pluck out an earbud. She yelps, her body jolting in surprise. Scrambling around on her knees, her hand flies to her ear while her panicked eyes meet mine. I make a show of putting her earbud in my ear. Music floods my senses. “Little Girl Gone” by Chinchilla. Appropriate.
“How’d your shoe come untied? Did you forget about runner’s knots, princess?”
She jumps to her feet, backing away. One step. Two. “Wha-what are you doing?”
Is she serious? I leer at her, stalking forward. One step. Two. “Chasing you.”
Her eyes go wide, and without stopping to pick up her backpack, she spins around, automatically racing away from me. Almost as if we’ve done this a million times. My heart thuds in my chest at my girl willing to play our game.
I’m off like a shot behind her, marveling at her speed and agility. She jumps over dead trees, darts left and right. She’s trying to lose me. There’s no way that’s happening. I smell her fear. Her sweat. Her lust.
Squinting, I catch sight of her up ahead. She’s stopped behind a tree for a breather. She used to do that all the time. Pause for a bit to let me find her, then she’d be off again. She’s so fucking beautiful the way she looks with her chest heaving for air.
“Better fucking run, baby,” I grit out, loudly enough that she hears me. Her head whips around to spot me advancing on her, and she pushes off the tree and bursts into a full run. That might be her downfall. It’s too fucking dark. She’s bound to trip and fall at some point. Or she’ll pretend that’s what happened. I haven’t forgotten for a second—and clearly neither has she—that she’s the prey and I’m her predator. This has always been the game.
Only now, the stakes are higher. She doesn’t feel the same way about me anymore. And I want nothing more than to punish her for every time over the last three years that I thought of her and knew I wasn’t good enough.
Air punches from my lungs as I realize she’s slowing. Tiring? “If you keep that pace, I’m going to catch you, Echo. Is that what you want? I won’t be disappointed if you do.”
“Leave me alone, Royal!” she gasps out as she continues to run. I love the way the moonlight shines through the trees, leaving a dappled pattern of brightness on her red hair. Her eyes are wild as she twists around to see how close I am. The answer: too close. She gives a shriek of dismay as she pushes her legs to move faster.
“You don’t mean that, and we both know it.” She’s within my reach and because of that, I’m aware that she can hear every one of my ragged breaths, every steady footfall behind her.
Stumbling, she lets out a frustrated cry. I catch her before she goes down to her hands and knees. My body curls around hers, my arms banding her tight against me. My lips coast over the shell of her ear, letting my hot breath cascade over her skin. It elicits the body-racking shiver I’d expected. She hasn’t changed. “I always catch you, don’t I?”
Her chest jerks, and she struggles, the back of her head colliding with my chin. I grunt hard, not expecting the sudden move. Spinning her around, I push her up against a tree, hands secured over her head in one of my mine.
She pants, our eyes locked on each other. “Why are you doing this?”
Through gritted teeth, I growl, “Simple, princess. You’re mine.” I mold my body to hers as my mouth crashes down to claim her lips in a brutal, bruising kiss. I can tell by the rigid set of her body that she wants so badly to deny me. I nip. I lick. I bite. And when I don’t get a response, I rub my cheek against hers, inhaling her scent and letting a low growl rumble from me. Bringing my hand up to her throat, her pulse flutters madly against my thumb. “Mine.” I swipe my tongue boldly over her bottom lip.
A whimper slips from her, and I take the opportunity to plunge my tongue into her mouth.
The taste of her. I never forgot. Sweet and uniquely Echo. I’ve kissed her so many times, but this feels like a first.
The way she continues to struggle against me, trying to free her wrists and bucking against me… it makes my blood so fucking hot, I slip my hand from her neck to thread my fingers into the hair at the back of her head, holding her at the precise angle I want her. And fuck I want her. My head goes hazy as my tongue and hers battle, and our bodies war as we continue this sinful dance of hunter and prey.
