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Royce looks down at me from his impossible height, an amused grin on his lips. “I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
Dread pools in my chest and leaks into my stomach. He should go. Iknowthis, yet I’m tired of being alone andso damn lonely.
“Stay,” I caw worse than any crow.
The amusement leaves his face and his tone becomes deadly serious. “What are you asking, Genesis?”
“I want you…”
He quirks an eyebrow. “You want me to…?”
I shake my head and speak slower than he does. “I.Want.You.”
I notice every nuance in his body as he realizes what I mean. His mouth slightly parts. His shoulders pull back with a deep inhale. Hazel eyes blaze with heat.
“How bad do you want it?” he says thickly.
“A lot,” is my raspy reply.
Bygones are not Bygones
Royce
Thisisit.Whateverhappens next will shape my life forever.
The right thing to do would be to tell Sin about Tiffany. To tell her I am getting married to keep from disappointing my grandfather like my father before me.
I don’t.
Sin doesn’t want more and neither do I. Why ruin the moment over something neither of us needs to worry about?
I take her hand and pull her up from the couch flush against me. With one hand on her thick ass, I use the other to support her, as I devour her lips in a searing kiss.
The garlic and the basil lacing her tongue is diminished by the sweetness of kissing her again. I take my time, pushing my hard dick against her center as I explore her mouth with my tongue. When little whimpers escape her, I pull her bottom lip between my teeth and bite down hard enough to leave soft indents.
She runs her tongue over them, exciting me further.
Bed. Now.
I pull her down the hall, on the hunt for her lair. I’m bigger. Stronger. But she’s the one who has ensnared me like prey.
I enter the first room on the right.
This can’t be hers. There is a pile of men’s clothes on the floor. Beer bottles litter the bedside table and the sheets resemble broken accordions, rumpled and wrinkled to hell. I keep going even as she giggles behind me.
Further down on the left-hand side is a door that opens into another bedroom. As great is my need to have her, I stop short to take in the decorations.
The walls are a sparkly lilac shade I’ve seen only on the cover of coloring books. The fake Texas vanity plate on the opposite wall spells out PRINCESS in the same child-friendly color, and a non-descript clock hangs below it. An oak bookshelf holds no books, but a lot of figurines—of what look to be queens of old. A desk in the corner near her lone window is bare except for her work laptop and a picture of what I assume is her parents. Last but not least, there is a framed needle point above her bed of a sparkly silver crown and a date that’s too small to read from the doorway.
At least the purple comforter on her Queen-size bed is adult enough to where I don’t cringe.
And what is that on her pillow?
Magazines. Magazines with… withmeon the cover.
Fuck me. Fuck me with a lightning rod.
I drop her hand and go to the bed. She utters a strangled cry and grabs at my arm. I brush her off and pick up theMen’s Health is His Wealththat came out a year after, almost to the day, Genesis and I fucked. Then theGQ. That photoshoot took place in Paris during the week of my twenty-eighth birthday. The last one is theTimemagazine I posed for in January of this year.
