Chapter Thirty-Nine
Marina
I drag the last bite of roll through the gravy and pop it into my mouth before standing to take my plate to the sink.
“You want a beer?” I call to Royce, who has made his way to the couch and is fumbling with the TV remote.
“Sure.”
I grab two bottles from the refrigerator and crack them open, handing one to him. I settle onto the couch beside him and curl into his side.
He stops on a ball game and turns the volume down. We sit in silence as the game flickers across the screen.
The quiet feels good.
I take a sip and stare at the bottle in my hand.
“I got a call from Blaze tonight,” I say. “That’s why I was running later than planned.”
Royce’s head turns toward me. “What did he want?”
“He found out the condo was being sold and wanted to give me shit about it.”
His jaw tightens.
“Among other things.”
I tell him everything. The twelve missed calls. The demanding texts. The accusations. The questions about where I was and where Ryder was. The threat to call the police.
By the time I finish, Royce is staring straight ahead, his expression hard. “That son of a bitch has some nerve.”
I let out a tired breath.
“He hasn’t bothered to call his kid in six months, but suddenly, he finds out you’re selling the condo, and he’s got questions?”
“It doesn’t surprise me. Honestly, I should’ve seen it coming.”
Royce shakes his head. “He doesn’t get to disappear whenever it’s convenient and then demand answers when something changes.”
“I know.” I take another drink.
He doesn’t really care. It’s all about control. Leaving was his choice. He made the decision. Selling and moving was my choice. I made the decision, and he doesn’t like that.
I pick at the label on my beer. “I can take his anger if it somehow lights a fire under him. If it makes him start calling Ryder more often, I’ll deal with it.”
“You think it will?”
I shake my head. “No.” The answer comes easy. “He might call tomorrow and maybe even a few times after that. But eventually, he’ll realize he can’t manipulate me with threats anymore, and he’ll fall right back into the same pattern.”
Royce doesn’t say anything. He just reaches over and takes my hand. His thumb brushes across my knuckles.
I rest my head on his shoulder.
The television murmurs quietly in the background, neither of us really watching it. His arm eventually settles around my shoulders, and I burrow deeper into his side, my cheek resting against his chest.
The warmth of him seeps into me.
My body is exhausted. My mind is even more so.
The screen blurs, and my eyelids become impossibly heavy. I blink and fight to keep them open.
The next thing I know, the bottle is gone from my hand.
“Come on, Rina.” His voice is low and warm.
I mumble something that doesn’t even sound like words.
Then, suddenly, I’m being lifted.
I instinctively curl against him, my arms finding their way around his neck.
“I got you,” he whispers into my hair.
I barely notice us moving down the hallway before I feel the soft dip of my mattress as he gently lowers me onto the bed and pulls the covers over me.
His fingers brush a strand of hair away from my face, and his lips touch my forehead. Soft. Warm.
The mattress shifts again as he stands.
I reach for him before I can think better of it, and my fingers close around his forearm. “Stay.”
He goes still. Then he looks down at me. “You sure?”
I nod.
Something changes in his expression. He doesn’t ask anything else. He pulls off his shirt, jeans, and boots, leaving himself in his boxer briefs, before climbing into bed beside me.
I turn toward him, settling against his chest, and his arms come around me.
The weight of the day begins to melt away. All of it fades beneath the steady warmth of his body and the slow rhythm of his breathing.
I close my eyes.
And let go.
I wake up to the sound of a phone vibrating against the nightstand. I reach over without opening my eyes and feel around for it, but all I find is smooth wood.
Royce stirs beside me, and I sit up, blinking against the light drifting in through the window above my dresser. The vibrating finally stops, and I realize it was coming from his jeans, which are tossed over the chair by the door.
I take advantage of him being asleep and let my eyes wander over him. His hair is sticking up in every direction, a dark sprinkle of stubble covers his jaw, and his bare chest rises and falls with each breath.
It should be illegal to look that damn good first thing in the morning.
I run my fingers over the rippling muscles that vanish beneath the sheet covering his hips. His hand comes up and grabs my wrist.
“Good morning,” he mutters, his voice gravelly from sleep.
“Morning. Do you know how I ended up in bed with you last night?” I ask.
He pops one eye open. “You begged me to stay.”
“I begged?” I say. “Hmm, I don’t remember that at all.”
His lips twitch as I tug my hand from his grip and trace one of his nipples with my fingernail.
I reach down and tug my shorts off before sliding a leg over his waist, sitting astride him, and planting my hands on his chest.
He’s fully awake now.
“Nice shirt,” he says as it falls off one shoulder. He brushes a finger over the exposed skin.
“Should I take it off?” I ask, grabbing the hem of the tee.
“Careful, baby,” he warns. “It’s the morning.”
I rock my hips, my bare sex sliding over his stomach and my bare ass grazing the erection that’s currently straining against his cotton boxer briefs.
He sits up, resting his back on the headboard, causing me to fall forward.
Fisting a hand into my hair, he pulls my mouth to his, and I gasp in surprise. He glides his tongue between my lips, claiming me with a deep, hungry kiss.
I cup his face, and my palms brush over the stubble on his cheeks as I kiss him back. Not giving a damn that I haven’t brushed my teeth.
A moan rises in my throat, and he tears his mouth from mine.
“Fuuuuuck,” he groans as I sink my teeth into his bottom lip.
He lets his head fall back, giving me full access as I lick and nip my way down his throat and across his collarbone. Raking my teeth over his right nipple before flicking it with my tongue.
His cock is lying thick and heavy against his stomach beneath me, and I bear down on it as I continue nibbling at his chest.
He hooks a finger under my chin and guides my eyes up to his.
The same desire burning inside me is reflected in his hungry gaze.
He circles his hips, and I gasp as he runs a hand up my calf and the inside of my thighs, feeding it beneath the material of my T-shirt.
I go up onto my knees, making room for him to cup my damp, needy core with his hand.
My eyes flutter shut, and his name falls from my lips as I grind into his palm.
“Sexy as fuck,” he murmurs, and I open my eyes. “Rina, baby, as much as I want to play with this pretty little pussy, Ryder is in the room down the hall, and he’ll be up at any minute, wanting breakfast before you have to take him to school,” he rasps.
“Uh-huh,” I whimper.
I start to roll off his chest, but before I can get to my feet, he tugs me back down. He finds my opening and slides a finger inside of me. Pumping it in and out slowly.
He brings his lips to my ear. “I promise to take care of you later, baby, but I don’t want to be rushed, and I don’t want you to have to be quiet when I do. I want to take my sweet time, and I want you crying my name as you come undone.”
My breath hitches at his words, just as the sounds of Ryder’s door clicking open and him and Mom shuffling down the hallway fill the air. Reluctantly, he removes his finger from my soaking wet pussy, and I watch as he brings it to his mouth and licks it clean.
My body goes limp as I lean down, plant a quick kiss on his lips, and whisper, “A promise is a promise, cowboy.”
Then I step off the bed and grab my shorts. I pull them on and head to the door.
I glance back at him, and my eyes drift down. “Once that’s calmed down, come join us. I’m making pancakes.”