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“Fucking…perfect. I feel you squeezing me as you come.” His guttural snarl. And then he was coming, too. She felt the surge of his hips. Her eyes opened to see his shadowy form above her. Powerful. Dark.
“Finally…” Another hard thrust into her. “Mine.”
He had not been in control.
He had not played that cool.
More like, he’d been so desperate for her he’d fucked her up against a wall. The first time. The second time I actually used the bed. Even as he’d basically shouted that she was his.
But maybe she’d missed that part.
Darkness filled the room. Beau was pretty sure that Avalon slept beside him. Her breathing was nice and easy. Her silken body relaxed against his.
All he wanted to do was keep holding her. And never let go. But his freaking phone was vibrating with a text. He could hear the damn thing, and if he didn’t get his ass out of that bed soon, Avalon would hear the sound, too. She needed her rest.
And, he, hell, had it been twenty-four hours since he’d slept? Longer? He needed to crash, too. Especially since he now had an early morning appointment with a serial killer.
Without waking her, he slipped from bed. Naked, he scooped up his discarded jeans—and the phone that vibrated in the back pocket. He eased from the bedroom, shut the door behind him, and made his way into the sitting area connected to the suite. His gaze darted to the piano. Had she played it that day? She was really wonderful on the piano. He’d caught one of her recitals before she went to college.
His phone vibrated again.
Setting his back teeth, he hauled the phone out and swiped his finger over the screen. “Royal,” Beau muttered as he put the device to his ear. “What is it?” Better not be another fire.
“You want more guards on her tonight? The first shift is ending, and I’m checking in for new orders.”
He looked back toward the closed bedroom door. Extra guards had been at the hotel that day. Royal had stayed close, too. Because I thought the bastard might target her. “I’m staying the night. No one will get in her suite without going through me.” He’d like to see the bastard try.
A pause. Then, “Got to ask, is reality better than your fantasies?”
“Don’t be an asshole.”
“I’ll take that as a resounding yes.”
“Take it as me telling you to fuck off.”
Rough laughter. “Love you, too, man.” But the laughter faded. “I’m sorry about the bar. I know how much the place meant to you.”
“Just wood and booze. It can be replaced.” He turned to look at the bedroom door. She can’t.
“Guessing our extracurriculars are on hold for a bit?” A delicate cough from Royal, when he was far from a delicate man. “Until we put this particular bastard in the ground, that is.”
Beau’s spine straightened. “We’re gonna slap a fucking red bow around him and bury him so deep that no one will ever find him.”
Another pause. This one lasted a bit longer than the first. “You don’t…quite sound like yourself.”
Because he’d just admitted to planning to kill someone? “You know me best, Royal.” Better than so many others.
Even though the story they gave the world was a lie.
Royal wasn’t his brother—not by blood. Not a half-brother. Not even a stepbrother.
“I think you know,” Beau continued grimly, “that I sound exactly like who I really am.”
“Be careful.”
Ah, was that real worry in Royal’s voice? Sounded that way. “I know what I’m doing.”
“I don’t think you do.” Gruff. “I think you’re pissed as hell right now. I think this prick wants you that way. When rage blinds you, you can make mistakes. He is playing with you. Pushing all your buttons.”
