The moment I step inside it, lights flick on.
Running along the bars at the bottom and trimming along the tip-top of the net, soft white lights shine, illuminating the area. And then they change to pink, and then blue, green, and purple.
I grin, spinning as I wait for the next color to show itself.
Royce is back as quick as he disappeared, large puffy blankets in his hands.
He shoves them in, and I grab one, laying it along the bottom.
I notice there are two more, one for him, one for me, maybe, but I leave those on the side and drop onto my back.
Royce climbs in, a bag of candy and two water bottles in his hand. “We were out of Yoo-hoos.”
“The travesty,” I gasp playfully.
We lay back, and after a few minutes, both of us let out a long sigh.
“It’s calming, isn’t it? The sky.”
“It’s dark.”
I smile. “There are so many colors.”
“It’s a pit of darkness, like my soul,” he jokes.
I laugh. “If that’s the case, let’s look closer, find what you can’t see.” I scoot my head toward his, my hands lifting above us to point out the varying shades. “In this darker spot, you can’t see many stars, but you can see the deep, dark blue—”
“Blackness.”
I grin. “The blue that takes up this space.”
“Anger.”
I grin into the night. “Okay, fine, but here.” I run my hand left. “That darkness, or anger, blends into the lighter, more royal blue we’ll call loyalty. Then a deep violet shade, devotion.” I make a wave with my fingers. “And then you get here, just before the edges of the stars that allow for the most unsuspecting part, a softness. An almost gentle-like baby blue. Tenderness, maybe?”
Royce’s hand comes up to encase mine, and our eyes meet.
He holds my gaze. “Don’t forget the silver.”
I swallow. “Silver?”
He nods slowly. “It’s in there, too. All over, everywhere.”
Everywhere.
Jesus.
“Thousands and thousands of specs of silver, too many to forget.” His eyes fall to my lips. “Too many to leave out or let go.”
The stars.
The shades of his soul.
Silver.
“See?” I breathe. “There’s so much more than darkness.”
A faint smile falls over him and he faces the sky again.
Mere minutes pass, and he’s already falling asleep... his hand in mine.
It’s times like this, when the lights go out or when he thinks no one can see, that his heart opens.
At the end of the day, he’s just a lonely boy who doesn’t understand how he can have so much, brothers and more who love him, who are there for him when and if ever he needs, no matter what, yet still, at night, after dark, he aches.
Like a lonely boy.
Like a lost boy.
I could take away that pain, if he’d allow it.
After all, lonely recognizes lonely.
I’m not sure how much later it is when I wake up cold, but before I can lean over and grab a blanket, one falls over me, and then a large, strong and warm body presses into mine.
Royce’s arm wraps around me, holding me there, so I scoot back more, tucking myself farther into him and when I do, I feel his need pressing against my ass cheeks.
He’s hard, and large and while my body shivers, I’m no longer cold.
I’m hot all over.
Pulling in a deep breath, I push into him more, and his face buries into my neck in an instant.
“You don’t want to do that, baby girl.”
“Yeah, I really do.”
He chuckles, but then I do it again, and that chuckle becomes a low groan.
His hand flattens on my stomach. “I’m not as strong as you seem to think I am.”
“You’re stronger than you know, but you don’t need to be right now.”
“Fuck,” he growls. “Careful.”
“I’m tired of being careful. I want to be—”
“Bad.” He kisses my jaw. “Naughty.” Another kiss. “Dirty?”
“Free. Valued.” My breathing is picking up now. “I want to know what it feels like to be wanted.” No, wait, that’s not right... “I want you to show me what that feels like.”
“If I touch you, I might get addicted.”
Please get addicted.
His shoulder tenses and then shakes in silent laughter.
I roll my ass into him again and a sharp hiss heats my ear. It serves as a lightning bolt, sending a shock wave down my spine.
Royce’s hand dips lower. Completely flat against my stomach, he glides over the V of my jeans while biting at my earlobe.
A low moan escapes, but I bury it in the blanket.
“Listen to me, Tink.” He kisses directly over my heavy beating pulse there. “I need to know every fucking thing you like and dislike. What’s good and what’s better. You think something in your head, let it out.” I feel his smirk against my skin. “Not that you’re real good at hiding your thoughts.”
I grin. “Got it. Royce?”
“Hm?”
“Touch me,” I demand instantly. “And not over my jeans.”
The button on my pants is popped with zero hesitancy, but his fingertips, they pause at the edge of my underwear. His strong chest inflates at my back and then he slips inside.
The heat of his hand alone, the roughness of his skin, has my muscles curling.
“Tell me the truth,” he whispers into the night. “You really never been touched?”
“Do my hands count?”
He groans.
“Not even a little bit,” he rasps as two fingers slide lower, slipping between my slit and gliding along my clit. I jerk, and his heady exhale follows. “You touch yourself since you been here?”
“Maybe.”
“That’s a yes.” He scrapes his teeth over my earlobe. “And you thought of me, didn’t you? When you fucked yourself?”
My “yes” is a low moan and he responds with a bite.
“And before me?” His lips brushing over the edge of my exposed shoulder. “Who would you think about?”
I close my eyes, waiting for more. “Just the feeling.”
He flexes against me, his hold tightening. “Good fuckin’ answer, baby girl, now hook your left leg over mine.”
I do as he says, and the idea of this position has my toes curling.
“I thought of you, too,” he admits. “When my cock was in my hands, swollen and fuckin’ aching.” He pushes against me. “I played your addictive-ass voice in my head, imagined your naked little body lying under mine, your pussy...” He slips the tip of his finger inside, and his muscles grow tight. “Fuck,” he rumbles. “Sucking me in.” I clench around him, and he whispers, “Just like that.”
I grip his forearm when he pulls, my back arching, and he’s done with the lead-up.
Two of his long, strong fingers push inside me.
The pressure and the scent of him, the heat of his breath on my skin, it’s enough to make me come, but I want more.
So much more.
So I tell him, and his response is epic.
His teeth bite at the material of my shirt, his free fingers curling inside of it at the base of my neck, and like he began to promise earlier, he shreds the thing from my body.
The cool night air stings my skin, my breasts threatening to pop from my bra, and my body has no clue what to do. It’s firing on every nerve—hot and cold, wild and wanting.
I’m consumed by him and his every move.
Royce’s fingers pause, but don’t pull out as his mouth falls to the hollow of my neck. He sears a path down my breastbone, dominating my body with his lips alone.
His mouth comes back up, biting over the mark he gave me earlier, and he growls, grinding into me as his fingers begin to slip in and out with impressive speed. His thumb reaches up to roll around my c
lit, and the fire in my core builds, taking me over inch by glorious Royce infused inch.
My legs shoot straight, stiff as a board, and I moan into the air.
Royce pulls back then, and my body cries in protest.
I look over my shoulder, but I’m met with his eager lips, hard and pressing.
I tug my body free, roll over, and climb onto him.
I ride him with my clothes on, but he still finds a way to push his hand back into my jeans. He rubs at my clit with perfectly applied pressure, vibrating his fingers against me, and I freeze above him, biting into his lip, and crying into his mouth.
As my body starts to shake, his free hand comes around, pushing me down against his cock and feeling how hard he is for me, that does it.
I come and it’s not short and a quick one.
It’s bursting and breath-stealing and oh my god, Royce is underneath me.
With eyes as black as a scorched night’s forest, he doesn’t dare look away. I might bite into him harder if he tried.
I grip his hair, and his hand comes out of my jeans, gripping on to my ass, and I start grinding on him.
A heavy dip forms between his brow and when I make a circle, those lips of his part, and he grinds right back.
His hands shoot up to my shoulder and he yanks me down. We kiss with such a savage harmony it aches deep in my chest. I don’t want to stop, but I know this might not be enough for him, and I refuse to end this night without earning his orgasm, something of his I’ve wanted for weeks.
It’s beyond wanting him to know I can make him feel good. I need him to know that I can.
I can give him all he needs, even if he has to show me how to do so first, and something tells me he’ll be more than willing.
So I lift, slipping my hands into his basketball shorts, and he doesn’t protest.
He lets me take him into my palm, and when I crawl off of him, he follows me with eyes as dark as black satin.
I’ve watched porn, I’ve seen raunchy movies.
I know how to give head, or I know enough to know how to start.
“Tell me what you like.”
He slams his head back onto the blanket, only to lift it again with a growl. “You put that mouth on me, it’s mine.”
My heart hammers in my chest.
His words are enticing and bury themselves deep into my bones.
It might sound pathetic, but all I’ve ever wanted is to be wanted for real, and for Royce to be that someone is more than I could ever ask for. He is more than I could ever ask for.
I dip my head, and his hand shoots out, gently wrapping around my neck and leading my eyes to his.
They’re firm and hooded like a hawk.
“I’m far from fuckin’ playin’. Last chance. Touch my cock, you’re mine.”
“Then stop talking, Playboy. Let me make it official.”
His jaw sets, those eyes searching mine, and a curt nod follows. His hand on my neck spreads out, curling around to the side of my face, and while he doesn’t guide me down, he leaves it there as I lower myself.
My lips meet the head of his cock, and I relish in the soft satin of his skin against my mouth, skimming back and forth over the tip, and hard breaths has his nostrils flaring.
I run my tongue along the underside, twisting and testing his reaction. His shoulders pull forward, his core curling, so I take that as a good sign.
I wet my lips and pull the head into my mouth, but I don’t stop there. I glide down as far as I can and suck in my cheeks, slipping back up to the tip and dip down again.
I repeat this several times, rolling and gliding my tongue along him as I go and his head slams back.
“Fuck me, that mouth. I knew it was made for me,” he pants. “Like that. Just like that.”
I do as he asks, and after a minute or two, he begins pumping into my mouth. Slow at first, and then a little quicker. His body curls up, his hands gripping on to my face and right when he’s about to come, he tears me up his body, one hand flying to his dick to help it the rest of the way, allowing it to spill all over my stomach.
His thumbs spread it in, dragging his cum and circling it around the diamonds of my micro dermal piercings on my hipbones. His eyes lift to mine, and then he’s gripping the back of my neck. His mouth lands hard on mine and he groans into it. Sucking my tongue and twitching as he rides his wave.
We kiss until his breathing calms, and then he strips himself of his shirt, using it to clean up the mess.
He tosses it aside, tugs me into him, his knuckle trailing over the hickey on my neck. “This right here, I need people to see it, Tink.” His lips brush mine. “Let them see.”
Let them see his mark on my skin.
I’m too afraid to pause and think beyond tonight, so I pour all my focus into this moment.
He kisses me again, slower, softer, and my chest tightens when he whispers, “For the record, as far as I’m concerned you were already mine, and baby girl... know that I’m yours.”
I don’t even remember falling asleep, but we must have, because the next thing I know, I’m waking up beside him.
Chapter 27
Royce
Raven has to stay in the hospital for another day because of the emergency C-section.
When the doc came in and told her so, he said two more days, but the girl refused, and used Maybell as her excuse, not that she needed one—she said she had a nurse and a gang at home and didn’t need to be here that long.
The doc couldn’t argue, so he moved onto the next bit of info, mentioning Raven was to refrain from ‘sexual intercourse’ for six weeks—something they both knew but pretended would never come. Maddoc argued she didn’t push a baby out and we laughed our asses off at his expense.
He decided not to debate the point with the doctor and gave Raven a look that said that wouldn’t be happening, a look she gave him right back.
He’s a sneaky fuck, though, got her a present he said was a long time coming in the twenty minutes it took her to shower—I got to watch the little man sleep in his plastic little cube thing while he snuck out.
I was a good-ass sitter—he didn’t even wake up.
Doubt Maddoc’ll tell me how his ‘present’ worked out, but I guess that means they’re waiting that six-week mark after all, give them both time to heal.
Now, we’re all back in the room, Zoey’s sitting up in a chair the nurse brought specifically for her, staring down at her best friend.
We skipped school and have just gotten our lunch delivered when Raven’s eyes slide to me and hold.
Raven winces as she pushes up in the hospital bed, lifts the baby onto her shoulder, holding his little head near hers, and Maddoc leans over to kiss his hair. “You weren’t alone last night.”
I say nothing but put my food away, wash my hands in the sink, and make my way to her.
With a small smile, she hands me my nephew.
He’s smaller than a football, perfect in every fucking way.
I take the seat opposite of Maddoc and cradle him in my arms like Maybell showed me, making sure his head is tucked perfectly into the crook of my elbow.
I run a hand over his full head of dark hair, as black as a raven, just like his mama. He starts to stir, a small cry slipping from his lips and I freeze.
The others laugh but Raven quickly passes me a weird-ass circle pacifier, nothing like the ones they brought home when they went and bought a truckload of shit.
She holds it up to his mouth, but I take over, and the little guy settles.
His dark lashes flutter and my chest warms. His eyes are near the same shade of green as Maddoc’s, maybe a little lighter. He’s the perfect mix of them both.
“Hey, little bro,” I whisper. “You got milk drunk last night and didn’t get a good look at me. I’m your favorite uncle.”
Light laughs fill the room, but I ignore them. This is me and little man’s time.
“Your pops is gonna try to teach you to dunk, but when he’s not l
ooking, come to me. He’s got the perfect shot, but the dunk is all me, my man.”
He makes a little sound and my smile widens.
“Yeah, you know what I’m talking about, don’t you?” I grab his hand, feeling his tiny fingers, and they close around me. “Me and Zoey Bear, we’re gonna show you all sorts of stuff, ain’t that right, Zo?” I look over, having sensed her eyes on the two of us and a wide smile takes over her lips.
I jerk my head and she runs to us, so I lift her onto my knee.
“He’s so cute.” Zoey smiles at him, waving her hand, but his eyes are already closing.
She leans in and kisses his forehead. “I love you, bestest friend.” She lays her head on my shoulder and yawns, her nap time officially closing in. “Your turn, Uncle Bro.”
I lean down, kissing his right temple. “I love you, Phoenix Brayshaw.”
Brielle
Of all the mornings for my brother to call, he chose this one.
It was just after seven-thirty, when I’d normally be on my bus ride to school, but this morning, at seven-thirty, I wasn’t on a bus or in a town I was forced into. I wasn’t with a family who didn’t really want me there or at a school where kids weren’t sure what to think about the sad little weird girl who came in with a bald spot and puffy eyes.
This morning, I was wrapped in a cocoon of tattooed arms, barricaded by long and lean muscles, and held on to with a comfort I wasn’t sure existed.
I haven’t heard back from my brother, which was almost scary, but knowing he wasn’t here made it a little easier. I figure he hasn’t answered because every time he does, he’s forced to lie, or more, hide the truth.
I’ve been waiting for his call for so many reasons... and I ignored it.
I was already awake, breathing in the early morning air and letting my eyes roam the parts of the property I could see from where we were. My phone vibrated beside me, and I ignored it.
I would almost go as far as to say I was angry his call came when it did, interrupting my morning, but I had to get up, get back to the house to get ready anyway. I figured the Brays wouldn’t be at school today and I was right. I even saw Mac and Chloe leaving at lunch and figured they were headed to meet the newest member of the Brayshaw family.
Break Me Page 28
