When she blinks, the moisture that was building in her eyes falls, and my knuckle flies up to catch it. I bring it to my mouth, rubbing her tears across my lips, tasting a tiny piece of her.
Big fucking mistake.
I crowd her, fully and completely, and the little sliver of a thread left, the one wrapped around my sanity, the one that’s been thinning and splitting hair by fucking hair since the day she took over my mind... it snaps.
Splits in fucking two and all that’s left is her.
Me.
And greed.
I slam my mouth to hers and she gasps, but not a second’s hesitation comes from her.
She opens up for me.
My tongue drives inside, raring to explore every bit of her.
Desperate for more.
Starved for it.
I might fuckin’ pass out, the need’s too strong.
A need to get closer.
To kiss longer.
To taste more.
Have more.
Take fucking more.
Her chest swells then, right against mine, and it’s too fucking much. Suffocating. Overwhelming.
What the fuck am I doing?
I tear away, put some distance between us and force the barest, blankest of expressions as I watch the wonder on hers die.
She understands me, so she knows what’s coming and her hand lifts to her chest in preparation.
“What do I want from you?” I rasp, my eyes hard, hers tense and tangled, even more so when I slowly slip away. “Absolutely nothing.”
There it is.
The sting she can’t hide.
It’s only fair she feels it when I do.
Who is she to make me ache?
Nobody. That’s who.
Chapter 23
Brielle
Freshly showered, mind muddled, and emotionally spent, I step from my bathroom.
I don’t get a foot onto the carpet when a hand slaps over my mouth, shoving me back into the wall.
The sudden surge of panic has my vision blurring, but after a long, hard, blink, it returns. Panic has my heart rate climbing, but I quickly focus on the familiar face shoved in mine.
Royce stands in front of me, body pressed to mine, alcohol blanketing his breath and hazing his brown eyes. Eyes that grow darker the longer he stares.
His hand slides down the wall near my side, and then it’s wrapping around my left thigh.
In one quick move, he dips and lifts me, pressing me into the wall with his hips.
I lock my legs around his back, my robe falling open slightly around my legs, and he groans, running his fingers along the soft skin there. He squeezes, growing against me, hardening, stabbing at my stomach and creating heat within it.
His arms come up, fingers gliding along my neck and throat.
“Baby girl,” he rasps, and his eyes slam into mine.
Anguish, absolute and complete, stares back.
I want to take it away, always.
Royce’s focus falls to my lips, a hostile glare written across him and knotting inside me.
His tongue slips out to wet his lips, and when I do the same, every muscle in his body locks.
He fights it, his want, and he fights it well.
But I don’t want him to, and he came here for a reason.
Because just as I felt tonight, his kiss of anger wasn’t enough.
We need more.
We need real.
I want him to kiss me again, to devour me.
I want him to break me.
It’ll be worth it.
So, I dare pull his chain from beneath his shirt, my fingers gliding along the expensive item.
He instantly slaps my hand away, but there’s a sense of wonder in his eyes almost imploring me to push him further. To take what I want.
Demand and receive he once told me.
So when his eyes fall to the silver around his neck and hold, I ever so slowly try again.
I slip my fingers behind it, allowing it to rest on my palm, and read the inscription etched into it, his family’s motto.
My palm closes around the crest, the strength of the words now locked inside my fist.
My grip is tight, and his chest expands.
I tug it toward me, tug him toward me.
Chest to chest, my legs wrapped tight around his hips, I press down, my ass meeting the head of his swollen cock. And my god... does he respond.
His breaths turn ragged, his hand shoving into my hair, and then the world stops turning.
The sun meets the moon.
And my soul, it wraps around his.
Royce takes my lips in a deep, devilish, exhilarating kiss.
There is no anger in it this time.
It’s a pure, thrilling—terrifying—need to drown in one another.
It’s intoxicating.
He is intoxicating.
Royce’s mouth molds to mine, his tongue sweeping in greedy, hungry grazes.
He moans, and groans, and growls against my mouth, pressing his body into mine and when he slopes a little lower, his cock rubs right along my center.
I gasp, my eyes slamming closed, my head falling back, and he dips, sucking and biting on my neck.
An unfamiliar, exotic sound seeps past my lips and he tears back, looks me in the eye and then slams his lips into mine again.
His kiss is hard, rough, and so so good, but after a few moments, something shifts.
His hold loosens, his lips growing lax.
Royce kisses me slow, lazy, and long. And somehow, this kiss is more than the ones before.
It’s honest.
It’s an apology.
It’s us.
It’s him.
It’s more.
When he pulls away, he rests his head in the crook of my neck, and my fingers come up to glide along his fade.
“My little Tink,” he rasps. “Help me fly...”
An unquenchable tingling stirs low in my stomach as he brings himself closer.
“Help me fly, ‘cause this lost boy is on his way down, baby girl...” He quiets, his hold tightening.
Those tingles, they turn into fireworks.
He’s on his way down...
He’s falling.
My pulse thuds wildly in my ears, anticipation of what this could mean and fear of what will likely follow sending a shudder through my heated body.
What would he say if he knew I hit the ground long ago?
He hums against my skin, his tongue flicking me there, and I feel him grin against me.
Slowly, he lets my legs drop, his hands coming up to cup my face and hold my eyes on his.
He stares a long moment, and then leans in, his lips pressing into the corner of mine. He doesn’t let go or pull back, but a strangled, whispered, and maybe even unaware, “What are you doing to me” follows.
My breath lodges in my throat, and I don’t respond. I don’t think I’m meant to.
And then he’s gone.
I go to bed having no clue what tomorrow will bring, but knowing one thing for sure.
Royce Brayshaw has the ability to feed my soul... or feast on it.
And me?
I must be as sick as my mother was... because I’m pretty sure I’d let him do both.
Chapter 24
Brielle
Holy hickey!
I gape at the mirror, pushing my hair aside and lean closer.
It’s big, like the size of a freaking baseball big!
How?!
He was only there for a few seconds, right?
But he has skills, Brielle.
I turn my head more.
Okay, maybe not the size of a baseball, but definitely a golf ball. It starts farther back on my neck and higher up, almost to my hairline, and comes down like a jacked-up J, right into that sweet spot he found.
My core heats at the thought of last night, at the taste of his lips, the strength behind them.
He was all in, giving me a tas
te of what he can do to me, and I gladly accepted, begged on the inside, not that I’d be opposed to begging on the out.
I’m starting to realize, though, Royce can only work off what his mind allows.
No one can dictate his next move for him, maybe not even him half the time. To try and force something on Royce messes with his mind and leads to frustration. Annoyance. And that’s when the hardheaded, foul words follow.
He’s kind of like a child in that way, unsure of what’s coming at him, so he acts out, but not for attention.
It’s the opposite really.
“Oh, you think you see me?” —fires a missile, straight to the jugular— “well how about now? Did you see that coming?”
It’s the only way he knows how to keep out what he’s afraid to let in.
Possibility.
Hope.
Love?
He’s afraid to feel. Afraid to hurt once he does because he believes that’s all that follows. So, he spends his time with gorgeous girls he has no desire to know, who have no wish to know him either, and he tells himself he’s okay with it.
He’s not.
I see it when he looks at his sister-in-law, at Victoria, and his brothers.
He craves what they have, but he doesn’t believe he can have it, too.
This world, it can seem tame at times, but there is always more going on under the surface waiting to be weeded out. The boys’ past is only one example of that.
Royce is no stranger to darkness, the pain it can bring, and the unscalable mountains that rise from ash.
Pain recognizes pain.
I run my fingers over the purplish-red marking he left behind for me to find this morning, knowing I’d replay how it came to be.
It’s dark and angry, like him.
The corner of my mouth lifts, and I glide my fingers from the hickey to my lips. I trace over them with the pad of my middle finger. I think they’re still a little swollen. Raw.
I look into my eyes, at the turquoise within them, at the hint of red fogging up the edges, but I don’t care.
The light will still shine through.
My hand comes up to my hair, subconsciously reaching for my scar, but I spot it in the mirror and force it back down.
I step back, smiling at the girl in the mirror, and unexpected moisture fills my eyes, because for the first time, the girl who smiles back?
I believe her.
I help with breakfast at the home but skip out on the chores since Maybell continues to remind me it’s not my job to help. I feel bad about it, but not bad enough to stay behind this time.
I walk to the main street of town, grab a donut from the donut shop Raven told me about, and spend some time checking out the shops.
As a kid, I don’t remember ever coming to town. Our parents kept us on the outskirts, away from people, so it’s all new to me.
The stores are smaller, independent-like places. There is nothing commercial or mainstream here, not even the grocery stores. They’re all family named and owned, if I had to guess. Members of the Brayshaw community who understand the rules and want to be a part of it, following generations before them.
I walk across the park and into the market located beside it to grab what I came out for. Once I have it, I head back for the house.
“Brielle?” My name is called.
I turn, bending to allow myself to see through the open window, and the guy inside of it pulls his glasses off, pushing his hat up to show his blond hair. “August, hey. How’s it going?”
He nods with a grin. “Not bad. Let me give you a ride.”
I pause, my eyes dropping to a pile of treats in the passenger seat. “I’m okay, thanks, besides it looks like you have some serious gorging plans. I’d hate to keep you from all that chocolate.”
His eyes dart down, and a stiff laugh leaves him. “A gift for a friend.”
“Nice.” I smile.
“Get in, I can spare you one. Give you a ride wherever you’re headed.” He unlocks the door, waiting.
I shake my head. “I appreciate it, but I’m really enjoying the sun. And hey, nice car. No more bus for you, huh?”
“Turtleneck, huh?” His eyes fall to my top in a pointed look, but he grins a little.
I laugh, heat creeping up my neck, not that he can see it. “At least it’s sleeveless. I feel like I finally understand why such a shirt exists.”
He nods, the corners of his eyes tightening, but he smiles through it. “You might be on to something there.” He looks forward, drumming on the steering wheel a few times before he turns back to me. “You sure you don’t want a ride?”
I nod.
“Okay.” He drops his eyes to the bag in my hand. “Well, I should go. Can’t hold up traffic.”
I laugh. There isn’t a single car behind him. “You do that.”
He lifts two fingers. “See you around, Bishop.”
I nod. “Yeah, see you around.”
With that, I head back for the house.
I stuff the two sandwiches in the freezer, wrap up the box with a grin, and make my way to the Brayshaw mansion.
I’m not exactly nervous to see him after last night, but I am a little unsure, and pretty dang good at an icebreaker.
So, with that thought in mind, I slip from the trees, around the backs of the SUVs and set the shiny silver wrapped item on the porch bench, quickly slinking away.
My plan is to go find Valine and convince her to watch a movie with me, but as I step off the last stair, both feet now on the ground, the door swings open behind me. Several voices fill the air... and simultaneously cut off.
My back burns knowing they’re staring, and not knowing if they’re angry I’m so close to their home.
I consider pretending I don’t hear them, but as quick as the door opens, a soft, sweet voice shouts for them to ‘hurry up’, and then the sound of light footsteps are padding against the wood.
“Zoey, wait!” Victoria shouts, but it’s too late.
Zoey’s little shadow falls over my feet.
I turn around, and there she is, teetering on the edge of the last step, maybe three away from me, Victoria now at her side, her arms half thrown in front of her, shielding her while holding her back.
My ribs grow tight, the charge in the air a powerful one, even with a good hundred feet between her and me.
The hairs on my arms rise slightly, and I can’t fight the slight lift of my lips.
Victoria is a mother, the little one at her side her entire world.
Loved and protected, as every child should be.
I’d bet she isn’t fearful of what I may do, fully believing in Royce and the choices he makes, but as I said... she’s a mother, and her little one trumps all.
I allow my eyes to move back to Zoey, and my smile grows freely.
“Hi.” She watches me curiously.
“Hi.”
“Uncle Bro said his friend is coming today. Are you his friend?” She whips around, running back before I can answer.
My eyes follow her, straight to Royce.
He bends, ready for her when she throws herself into his arms.
“Uncle Bro, is that your friend?” Zoey smiles, laying her head on Royce’s shoulder. “I like her hair.”
She’s so cute, her pronunciation still not quite clear.
He kisses her head, his eyes hot—the good kind—and on me. “Yeah, Zoey Bear. That’s my friend, and she’s in troooouble.”
A sharp zing runs down my back, heat rising to my cheeks
Zoey’s head pops up and she gasps. “What’d you do?” The cutest, tiniest little scowl takes over her face.
I laugh, noticing the others do too, even if they try to hide it.
“Look at that mean mug, Zo.” Captain grins, shifting to take her from his brother. He kisses her temple, bouncing her lightly. “You be nice.”
Her face falls and she kicks to be let down.
Captain hesitates, looking to Royce. They have a silent
conversation that leads to Captain, very, very slowly, lowering his daughter back to the ground.
She runs right up to me, Victoria making her way down the steps behind her.
I bend, bringing myself closer and she drops her chin to her chest, her pretty blue-green eyes lifting and sad.
“Daddy said I was mean,” she whispers or tries to. It’s loud enough for everyone around to hear. “Did I hurt your heart?”
At her words, my heart does sort of feel hurt, but it’s more of an honest kind of ache.
How sweet is she?
I shake my head. “No, sweet girl, you didn’t hurt my heart, but it’s very nice of you to ask.”
She smiles, looks to her dad who has the gentlest of expressions pointed right at her. He gives a proud little nod, and her eyes light up as she turns back to me. “My name is Zoey... but I’m not supposed to tell people my last name.”
Captain sighs, Royce chuckles, and I pull in my lips to hide my smile.
“Guess what, Zoey?” I pretend to whisper. “My name is Brielle, and I don’t tell people my last name either.”
She grins, her hand lifting to cover her lips as if we now share the world’s largest secret.
I laugh and glance behind her.
All eyes on me.
Shit.
“Well, Zoey.” I look back to her. “It was nice to meet you, but I should get back before Miss Maybell comes searching.”
“But the zoo.” Her smile falls and she turns away from me. “Rora, the zoo.”
A small frown forms when it’s Victoria who steps forward at ‘Rora’.
Victoria picks her up, and they drop their foreheads to each other’s at the same exact time. “We’re going, ZoZo.” Her eyes flick my way. “Uncle Bro forgot to tell his friend, that’s all. Let’s get buckled up, okay?”
Zoey smiles and the two head for Captain’s SUV.
I look to the others and it’s Maddoc who discovers and lifts the wrapped item into the air with a dark brow raised.
Embarrassing.
“It’s... just some fun.”
Royce looks from me to it with a curious grin, snags it from his brother and shakes it. “What is it?”
Embarrassing, that’s what!
“Open it.” Or you know, don’t.
He opens it, and my stupid heart beats harder when a slow smile spreads along his lips.
Break Me Page 25