Chapter 15 Royal
ROYAL
CONFLICTED FEELINGS
What Leticia will do is more important than what she agrees to with her parents.
I try to reassure myself, but while watching her, I slump back into my chair. I don’t want to believe what she’s agreed to do. She won’t do it. Right?
The truth is, I don’t truly know Leticia.
And as much as I want to trust her without a second thought, I lock down her text messages to her dad and brother, so all the texts will have to be approved by me.
The system I created runs off the phone I cloned when we did Late Nite Bytes and has the ability to override her real phone.
I go through the communication history back from last spring when they went to Italy for Easter and check to see if they used any other phone numbers.
Weirdly, they don’t use different lines when traveling.
Give our mate a chance. My wolf encourages me. He stands and stretches.
I should do the right thing. Informing Dad what I learned and telling Valor is the protocol-based response. It’s my job, working in technology, to share when there’s a potential data breach.
But I don’t know if she’ll breach confidentiality or not. She had every opportunity to tell them we have a family secret and that Valor promised to tell her what it is. Leticia stayed quiet on it.
My wolf pushes in my brain harder again. Our mate will be loyal to us.
Maybe he’s right, and Leticia’s loyalty doesn’t lie with the D’Medici family. Maybe she can be won over to our side.
We could protect her from her family. My wolf wags his tail. We can make her someplace safe here.
I’d previously flagged the cell phones connected to the D’Medici Wi-Fi, so I set up a program to track the ones I’ve attributed to Berto and Gregorio, who should be leaving the country, to make sure they get on their flight tonight.
I check that it’s working before looking back to Leticia’s room on the monitor closest to me. It’s still empty. The hallway camera shows her being rushed back from her mother’s room as Francesca D’Medici shoos her daughter out of the way, dragging a carry-on suitcase behind her.
Leticia ducks into her room, and I split my attention between screens, watching her family get into the elevator and down to their SUV, where my tracking software will follow them.
My phone buzzes, and I pull my attention from the monitor for a moment.
Leticia:
Please don’t be offended that I don’t know what those are.
Don’t know what they are? I squint at the notification.
The conversation we were having comes barreling back all at once, slamming into me and shaking me out of the worry about whether Leticia will cause trouble, and I’m back to the terror that I showed something so intimate to another person.
But now the question of how to respond is begging to be answered.
If I tell her, ‘That’s okay, you don’t need to know what they are,’ and we keep playing the game, it’ll probably bother her like Valor not telling her the family secret.
On the other hand, if I do tell her, that means we’ll have to have a more sexually charged conversation.
On that same hand, if we have that conversation, maybe it will shut down any further communication between us altogether, and I won’t have to worry because there won’t be anything for her to tell her family.
I choose my words carefully.
Royal:
Not offended, surprised. They’re sex toys.
I’m too anxious to not watch her on the screen. I have to know what she’s thinking. I have to see her reaction in real time.
She’s laid out on her bed again. This time not as gracefully. Her legs are spread, and her skirt has hiked up from around her ankles all the way up to her thighs.
My cock twitches seeing the extra skin. Don’t be such a predator. We don’t even know if she’s . . .
Leticia brings her hand to her mouth, and I expect her to freak out, but instead, she opens the picture back up, the telltale bright blue of the picture on her phone screen illuminating her face. Leticia pinches and zooms on the photo before texting back.
Leticia:
That’s SO cool. I’ve wanted one, but there is no way to hide it. Mom would find it for sure.
I’m hard just reading that. Throbbing in my pants at the idea of her getting off. I look at her on the screen as she looks back at the image again.
My wolf salivates, wishing she’d roll over and wondering what that skirt might do with the movement.
Royal:
It must be hard having restrictions like that. Do you get any privacy?
Is that creepy? I try to check in with my wolf, but we’re back to staring at her in the monitor again. Which, I think, proves I’m being a total stalker and probably shouldn’t be worried about what I’m texting her.
Leticia:
Honestly, no.
There are cameras everywhere. Even in my room.
I get this feeling of being watched a lot. Like someone is right there looking over my shoulder. For a while, I thought maybe we’re haunted, but now I’m pretty sure it’s the cameras.
How do I respond to that? My cock steadily begins to behave, and I try to come up with something that doesn’t acknowledge I know the truth while reassuring her she’s safe from anyone with bad intentions.
But my intentions, which I don’t think are bad, are at the heart of her concern, whether she knows it or not . . . someone watching her while she’s at her most vulnerable, someone who would gladly take the opportunity to watch her pleasure herself.
I should probably feel guilty about it. I should probably shut the camera feed off and try to assure her that no one would waste time watching her room.
And while I don’t feel guilty about my obsession with Leticia, I also won’t lie to her about no one watching.
Royal:
I can’t imagine what it’s like to not have any privacy.
Too bad we’re not THOSE kinds of friends. I’d share my toys with you.
That last one might cross a line, but the gorgeous woman returned to the photo and zoomed in again. She took a closer look. Curiosity is there.
Our mate won’t back away from this. My wolf watches the screen just as intently as I do.
Leticia goes to a dresser and begins pulling some clothes out before picking up her phone. She types off a quick message.
Leticia:
Very generous. But I don’t even know what I’d like.
How far can I push this?
Royal:
Well, if you ever want to learn, I’d be glad to offer advice.
I set my phone down, the possible fallout waiting in cyberspace as the message pings from one satellite to another.
Glancing back at the screen, I do a double take. Leticia unzips her skirt and shimmies it off over her hips, revealing the most adorable blue underwear with some sort of pattern too small for the camera to discern. They’re a fuller-coverage piece, like a boy short, that hugs her ass tightly.
I’m fixated on the screen, salivating over every inch of skin uncovered. I adjust my cock where it strains against the fabric of my sweats.
Casually, she flicks the skirt into a laundry hamper and pulls on what looks like soft, cozy joggers. The material is thin and dances around her legs as she wiggles them over her butt before tying the strings into a petite bow.
She wraps her fingers around the hem of her shirt and pulls it off, and I’m treated to a fantastic view of her half-naked form — her soft stomach and her bra, the same color as the panties — as she turns the shirt right side out and also tosses it into the hamper.
Leticia pulls a long-sleeved shirt over her head, leaving her bra on.
That can’t be comfortable to sleep in. My wolf is taken aback.
It’s not too long, though, before Leticia reaches back and unclasps her bra. She shimmies her arms in and out of the sleeves before pulling the bra out through the neckline of her shirt.
She does know she’s being watched. It makes sense she’d protect herself. That doesn’t change how hard I am again.
Leticia:
Don’t they come with user manuals? I’m quite proficient at user manuals.
I laugh out loud reading her text message.
Leticia:
Though . . . who knows, maybe I’ve never been meant to know what an orgasm feels like. Could be at the mercy of someone who doesn’t believe in the female orgasm.
That sobers me fast. Never? As in, never have I ever?
My wolf growls low at that. We’re both a little hedonistic in the way we chase all the good things of the world.
Royal:
Are you meaning to tell me you’ve never, ever had an orgasm?
Leticia is pulling back the covers of her bed, phone on the nightstand, when I see it light up with my message.
She picks up her phone before walking back to the light switch by the door. When she turns on her phone flashlight, I stop.
Human, Royal. She’s a fuckin’ human, and you’re attached. Not in the least bit disillusioned, I do nothing to disentangle my attachment as I watch her walk hurriedly to her bed and pull her feet up quickly.
Why? My wolf tips his head back and forth, trying to unscramble the mystery of her behavior, but I don’t have an answer for him.
When Leticia pulls the covers up around her chest, she turns off the flashlight. The camera takes a moment to refocus in night mode.
Leticia:
I didn’t MEAN to tell you that, it just kinda came out.
And that’s enough embarrassment for me for the day.
How was dinner?
Jealous of how cozy Leticia looks, I stand from my desk chair, go to the back of my door, and pull on the plaid flannel I keep there.
Now’s the time to test Leticia’s loyalty to her family.
Royal:
Food was delicious, we had Thanksgiving again since the first one was kind of ruined with work and then a wedding and some funerals.
Company, however, just wanted to talk about work and get on my case about getting shit done.
Leticia:
So I take it your family doesn’t have a ‘no work at the dinner table’ rule? We do, but that means a lot of meals are silent because Berto and Dad don’t know how to talk about anything else.
Royal:
Nah, we talked about rugby and some other stuff too, but there are some urgent things going on that need my attention.