I shrug, baiting him with my smirk, knowing how much he loves to bite.

And bite he does.

His arms sling greedily around me, lifting me from the floor, and my legs wrap around him.

His eyes bore into mine with a silent demand, one I’ll gladly meet.

I press my lips to his, right there in the middle of the room, and he growls his appreciation, kissing me back just as hard for all to see.

As we pull away, he grins, and then Mac is beside us, offering us both a shot.

Royce chuckles and lowers me to my feet, nodding for me to take it.

So I do.

Chapter 28

Royce

I’m a bastard. I know this.

I acted like a dick, like always, but my girl... she understood where it came from—a fucked-up mind of a guy who is desperate for all she can give me but admittedly—pitifully—fearful of the fallout he knows will follow, not that that’s an excuse.

It’s not. She deserves better, I know this.

But Brielle, she doesn’t hold it against me.

She’s kind when others aren’t, forgiving when she shouldn’t be, because she’s fucking light and she can’t help but shine it over everyone.

She always understands what I want and what I need, when I need it and why. It’s fucked-up to have to deal with my bullshit, but she does it with stride.

Right now, she laughs with Chloe across the room, but when her eyes skate this way, finding mine on her, she breaks from their conversation and heads for where I’m sitting on a couch.

She slips between my legs, eyeing me.

I run my knuckles along her neck and down her breastbone, my eyes flicking to hers when goose bumps follow.

She sighs, and it heats me to the core.

Fuck Bass and the bullshit before this, fuck everything.

All I want is this.

Her.

In the morning and at night, every hour in between.

I told her I’d get addicted, and I was at first taste... if I wasn’t before that.

Pretty fucking sure I was.

Brielle’s lips hover over mine. “You have a nephew. How is he?”

Fuck me, I do.

My family grew last night.

My whole world grew last night...

I push her hair over her shoulder, and she smiles. “He’s perfect, like I knew he would be.”

I pull her forward until her mouth is in line with mine.

“Stay with me again tonight.”

She kisses me, but pulls away too quick, a slow smirk growing. “We’ll see.”

“We’ll see.” I frown. “We’ll see? Tink, swear to God—”

Her lips crush mine and we’re done fuckin’ talking.

It’s not long after that I take my baby home. As we step from my ride, I grip her and she latches on, kissing me while I carry her across the property, through the open pool gate, and walk us straight into the water.

She gasps, the cold a surprise, but her grip never wavers, and neither do her eyes.

I drag my hands along her ribs and squeeze, inhaling her exhale, and step us out a little deeper into the water.

“Lie back, onto my hands,” I rasp.

She doesn’t ask why, doing as I said, her body straight as a board and light in my palms.

I keep my hands pressed against her upper thighs and lower back.

“Close your eyes, relax your muscles, and breathe deep, baby girl. Steady.”

She does, her chest rising before me and it takes serious effort not to run my hands over her breasts.

“Let go of everything on the inside, and just ...breathe.” Slowly, I remove my hands, staying close at her side for several moments before slowly drifting away.

The water ripples with my retraction and her eyes open. I lift my hands high, so she doesn’t lose focus as she seeks me out, and her lips curl up gently.

At the sight, my lungs hollow out.

I might be a sinking fucking ship, I can’t deny that, but if I do go down, she doesn’t have to drown with me.

And now she won’t.

This girl, she’s brave.

She’s not afraid to be vulnerable, could care less of what people think of her. She wants nothing more than to simply...be.

The truth is, I wish I was like her.

I’m not.

I’m who the outside world expects me to be. Young, rich, and privileged and everything those three worthless words entail.

Like I said, I might drown in a persona of my own making, but my baby, she won’t.

She’ll float. One day learn to swim. And then this girl, she’ll soar way the fuck above me, because she’ so much more than I could ever be.

Yet here she is, smiling up at the stars in my pool, on my property, in my reach.

She’s perfect

And she’s mine.

Brielle

His lips, god I love them. So soft but rough, full and commanding, masterfully purposeful as is his every touch.

Royce must have bewitched me because I don’t know how it happens or if anyone spotted us, but when my eyes open and the lustful fog lifts a little, I realize we’re no longer in the pool, but climbing stairs. Stairs inside the Brayshaw mansion.

Royce pulls back, his gaze eager, heartbeat erratic, but his hold... tense.

For the boy who doesn’t show the world who he really is, this is huge. Tough, even if he won’t say the words out loud.

He brought me into his home, into his safe space, the only place he can be free to smile and laugh for real, to love and play and breathe.

His steps slow as we reach the top of the stairs and I glide my hand along his cheek, into his hair, holding on to him.

His eyes close, a hard puffed breath fans across my lips, sending a shiver down my spine.

“You can turn around right now and I promise you, my feelings won’t be hurt.” I slide my other hand up and case him in fully.

His pulse pounds against my fingers, his brows caving in.

I offer him a small smile and I nod in encouragement. “Turn around, Royce. Take me outside.”

His forehead falls to mine and he pauses. A few seconds pass, and then his eyes pop up, one hand leaving me, the twist of a knob sparking the nerves low in my stomach.

With every step into the room he takes, his muscles ease, his confidence rolling back in and strengthening his grip, his gaze, his being.

Gone are the creases along his face, and in their place is a smooth hint of certainty.

He grips my hips, so I allow my legs to fall from around him, and the second my feet hit the floor, his hands are tugging my soiled shirt over my head. He drops it where we stand and his fingers slide to the button of my shorts, unfastening them.

His hands glide along the waist and he pushes them down.

They fall to my feet, and I don’t hesitate to step out of them.

The pads of his thumbs find the piercings on my hipbones and a low groan leaves him as he floats across the embedded silver, curving around to my ass from there.

He squeezes and a sharp gasp escapes me, my chest falling to his, and my bra’s unhooked a moment later.

His eyes find and hold mine as he dips his head, using his chin to push the straps down my shoulder and moving over to do the same to the other.

The fan above us blows quiet and cool, hitting the wet spot left behind and causing a chill to spread through me.

Royce’s hand sneaks between our bodies, and he tugs my bra from between us, my breasts now naked against his button-up.