“You’re going to leave again, aren’t you?” I say.
His face scrunches, and he stops, his cock buried inside me.
“Demi, what the hell are you talking about?”
“After this.” My hands skim down his back, resting just above his perfect, tight ass. “You’re going to disappear again.”
“Never.” He kisses me long. Hard. Our lips dance as his hips thrust again and again. “I’m never leaving you again, Demi. I love you.”
When we were younger, the first time he told me he loved me was the first time he’d ever said it to anyone. It wasn’t easy for him to say then, but I don’t know this Royal.
Royal fucks me, his strokes deeper, harder, like he wants me to feel his love. I cup his face and bring his lips to mine, relishing in his taste.
I’m not going to tell him I love him.
No need to complicate this any further.
Besides, the Royal I loved was nineteen and charismatic and sweet and funny. I’m not entirely convinced that man and this man are even the same people. For all intents and purposes, I’m basically fucking a stranger. A dark, handsome, seductive, tragically sexy stranger with a familiar gaze that makes my stomach somersault.
And the man I love—the one I’ve ruthlessly pined for over the last seven years—he doesn’t exist anymore.
Only the one on top of me, inside me, all over me. Infusing his broken, damaged spirit with mine and weighing me down so I don’t float away.
Eighteen
Demi
* * *
I clean up in the bathroom, staring in the mirror at a version of myself I don’t quite recognize.
My body’s reeling, and if I’m being honest, I could run right back downstairs and climb on top of Royal and go another round.
Guilt rests at my surface, but I’m choosing to ignore it. At least for now.
I wash my face and mentally list all the reasons why fucking Royal was a perfectly justified thing to do.
I’m single. Technically.
Brooks is a cheater.
Brooks is a fraud.
Brooks is a liar. And an asshole. And a control freak. And a pretentious son of a bitch.
I take back that last part. Brenda’s not a bitch. Far from it. She’s the only good thing about Brooks.
A little voice in the back of my mind shames me for seeking quiet vengeance on a comatose man, but I shut it down. Just because someone’s not conscious does not mean they’re immune to all the ways they’ve fucked people over when they were conscious.
Giving myself a once-over, I consider brushing my hair into a topknot, but I kind of like this lived-in, sex-hair look going on. It’s almost cute. And I don’t want to make it super obvious that I did anything to my hair, because then Royal might get the wrong idea.
As of now, it was only sex. It was only one time. And I don’t have the energy to try and figure out if it meant anything.
“Hey,” I say when I return to the living room.
He sits on the edge of a sofa cushion, all dressed, and flipping through a classic car coffee table book of Brooks’s.
Royal’s lips pull at one corner when he sees me, and I’m relieved when I realize this doesn’t have to be awkward. I take a seat next to him and fold my legs beneath me. His hand goes to my knee.
“God, I missed you, Demi. I missed fucking you and kissing you and being with you and . . .” he leans in, sweeping my hair from my face and cupping my cheek. His lips find mine, and once again, I find it hard to breathe.
“Let’s not complicate things.” I come up for air, gasping. “You shouldn’t have any expectations.”
“I don’t.”
“And I’m still mad at you for everything.”
“You have every right.”
“I’m not in a position to be with anyone right now.”
“Of course.”
I check out his hair. It’s all mussed up from running my fingers through it, but damn, is it sexy. It’s short on the sides and long on top, thick and lush. He always had the best hair.
“I don’t think you should stay over,” I say, not wanting to set a precedent. Last thing I need is some nosy neighbor telling everyone I’m entertaining gentlemen every night.
“Didn’t plan on it.”
His fingertips trail my arm, leaving a path of goosebumps. I shiver the moment they overpower me. Funny how much power this man still wields over me.
A knock at the door sends my heart into a freefall, and a quick glance at the grandfather clock in the corner tells me it’s almost ten o’clock at night.
Royal rises, and I fly to the door, my mouth dry and heart pounding in my ears.
On my toes, I peer through the peephole, take a deep breath, and pull the door open a few inches.
“Brenda,” I say. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
Her curious, green gaze falls on my disheveled hair, then the healthy flush on my cheeks, and then she glances over my shoulder.
“Is everything okay with Brooks?” I ask.
“Sweetie, I’ve been trying to call you for the past ninety minutes.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Brooks’s latest EEG came back. They’re going to start the process of waking him up. I didn’t think you’d want to miss it, you know, in case he wakes up tonight.” Her brows lift, but she’s not smiling. This isn’t like her.
God, I really hope I don’t smell like sex.
Okay. Now I feel guilty.
Now I feel like a shitty human being.
Not once while Royal was deep inside me was I thinking about how this would affect Brenda if she ever found out.
“I’ll pack an overnight bag and meet you down there soon, okay?” I offer a smile and try my damnedest to act elated about all of this. “And I’ll call my family and let them know. I’m sure they’ll want to be there when he wakes up.”
Brenda still won’t smile, and it makes me feel about this big.
I can’t hurt her.
I’ll deal with Brooks and the consequences of what just happened as soon as he’s healthy and well, but the last thing I want is for Brenda to look at me like that again. Like I’ve crushed her sweet soul.
She turns to leave, and I spy her looking at the parked Challenger across the street. Her heels click along the sidewalk until she reaches her Audi, and I give her a wave and close my door.
Royal’s waiting around the corner of the foyer, and he comes to my side.
“Did you hear that?” I ask.
He takes my cheek in his hand, and I place my palm over it. Now’s not the time to let myself enjoy how good it feels to be touched by him again, but God, does it feel good.
“I did.” His jaw sets, his gaze narrowing. “They’re waking him up. Good. He can pay off all those fucking credit cards now.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” I blurt my words before I have a chance to change my mind.
“Demi, what are you talking about?”
“You coming around,” I say. “With everything going on . . .”
“Wait.” He pushes a forced breath through flared nostrils. “So now that Brooks is going to wake up, you want to try and make it work with him again? Is that what this is?”