Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“Duchess!”
Orson? Someone is shaking my shoulders.
“Wake up! Now!”
“What?” My eyes pop open and I’m met with the darkness of the room bar one lamp. Orson is standing over me, his hoodie thrown over his head. “Royce got into a fight with Derek Chambers, we’re going back to your house.”
“What?” I ask, propping up onto my elbows. “Why does it matter if he got into a fight with Chambers!” Fucking idiot boys, and speaking of idiots… that dream was—no comment.
“It matters because Royce fucked him up good and almost killed him. We’re leaving—now.”
“What?” I fly out of the covers so fast and start yanking on my hoodie. “Where’s Royce?” I swipe my hair out of my face and zip it up. He almost killed him? This is bad. Royce doesn’t need another legal stint.
“Royce is fine, he’s already on the boat. Chambers barely got a hit in.”
I didn’t ask why Orson was here and Royce wasn’t. I swipe up my phone and push it into my pocket before we make our way back down to the beach. People have long since left, and the only boat that’s docked in is Royce’s. There are a few people scattered across the shore, asleep, but for the most part, it was just a fucking mess. I feel bad for Orson’s cleanup crew.
Picking up my pace, I run across into the water and jump into the boat, when I see Royce lying on his back on one of the sofas with his arm covering his face. One leg is hanging over the chair while the other is perched up.
“He’s asleep. I’ll drive.” Orson begins untying us when I start up the boat. Storm walks out from below with a pale face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask Storm, who looks more uncomfortable than usual.
He shakes his head. “He almost killed him.”
I run my tongue over my lip, turning my head over my shoulder to cast a glance at Royce, who still hadn’t moved. I’d like to say that I didn’t think Royce had it in him to seriously kill someone, but if you give him something worth dying for, he will kill for them.
I clear my throat, my thoughts on the dream I had just minutes ago. It all felt too real. Way too real. Seeing him so soon after the vivid images that are still fresh in my head is raising goose bumps over my skin and making my heart beat faster than it ever did before.
Storm nudges his head over his shoulder. “I’ll drive. Go do your thing.” I release the steering wheel and inch backward until I’m back near Royce. The inside and outside of the boat is lit up from the neon LED lights, deep blue hues accentuating his figure. His dark jeans, military-style boots tied loosely at his feet, and the hoodie that’s pulled over his head.
“Are you gonna stand there and stare or start yelling so we can get this over with?” He shifts his arm above his head and I finally get the first peek of his chiseled high cheekbones and soft lips. Lips I felt in my dream. All too real. Why the fuck did that feel so real. “Come here.” The way his voice wraps around those simple words is the very reason why my heart drops to my stomach. His tongue flicks out and dampens his bottom lip. “Now, Duchess…”
Finally, I take a seat beside him, blowing out a steady breath of air. His arm hooks around my waist and he yanks me down onto his chest, while keeping me to his side, both arms now wrapping around me as he pulls me in close and buries his nose in my hair. From a distance, if you weren’t in our circle, it would look intimate, and it definitely feels it to me right after that dream, but I know without a shadow of a doubt that to Royce, it would just be a big brother hugging his younger sister type hug.
“Royce?” I whisper, playing with the gold curb chain that hangs around his neck.
“Mmmm?” he growls out.
I chew on my bottom lip nervously. “What happened with you and Chambers?”
I feel his body turn rigid beneath me, and I almost feel guilty for bringing it up. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”
But I do worry. I worry a lot.
“You almost killed him?” I press up from his chest, bringing my eyes level to his. The outline of his features are hard, sharp enough to cut me in half. I’m momentarily trapped in the twisted knots of his gaze, before my eyes drop to his mouth. Soft lips shaped by hard edges.
Without even thinking, my tongue runs over my mouth.
He sucks in an audible breath, and my focus comes crashing back to his. His eyes are on my mouth now, thick brows pulled in.