Royal Savage Read online

  I remember seeing a bathroom on the main floor on the way up here, but that had an even longer line because people were either too lazy or too drunk to climb the long staircase.

  Fuck my life . . . and my bladder.

  After about twenty minutes of waiting in line, listening to gossip, and which guys to fuck and which ones not to, I feel like I’m about to burst. I have to pee so badly that I’m becoming desperate. I’m not below begging someone to switch places. Wait, yeah, maybe I am.

  I glance around at all the girls partnered up with their friends. This shit is ridiculous. It takes one girl to pee. One. I don’t need someone to wipe my vagina for me. I’m a big girl.

  I look around me to try to get a glimpse of the other line, but it seems to be at a standstill as well. Maybe if I go downstairs he won’t even notice; the friend I mean. There are probably like three rooms down there anyways. Why not just let me use one? I’m quick, really quick. I promise.

  Making a haste decision, I turn for the staircase and make my way back down to the main floor. I glance around, but don’t see Madison or Jax anywhere in sight, so I look around for the stairs leading down to the basement while pushing my way through the crowd.

  I go down a couple halls, see one more line to a bathroom and finally turn down another hall that leads to a staircase. I notice that no one is around it. Like at all. I don’t know if everyone knows the warning to stay away or if no one knows it exists back here. Either way, it’s a better chance that I won’t get caught using the bathroom down here and risk getting kicked out. The last thing I want to do is embarrass Madison and have her hate me. A pissed off Madison is never a good one. That bitch is crazy.

  Taking a long, deep breath, I exhale slowly and follow the staircase down. It’s dark down here, and quiet. I also notice a temperature change. It feels about ten degrees cooler, but honestly, I love the way it feels on my heated skin. I almost just want to stay downstairs and have my own party. Screw all the crotch bumpers upstairs.

  Once I get to the bottom of the stairs, I look around to see that every door in the hallway is closed. There doesn’t seem to be any light coming from under the cracks of any of the doors. My bladder just can’t catch a damn break.

  Is anyone even down here?

  Concentrating as hard as I can to hold my pee, I walk down the hall, attempting to be as quiet as my stupid stilettos will allow. It’s either take a wild guess and choose a random room or open every single damn door and hope that ‘the friend’ is gone.

  I look around me and pick a random room. Maybe the last door on the left? That looks good. I walk down the hall and place my hand to the door, pressing my ear against it to listen for any sound. Nothing, so I push the door open to find nothing but a dark, large bedroom.

  Closing the door, I walk over to the one before it and am about to waste my time listening first, but decide against it. Every room down here is dark and quiet, and the longer I wait, the closer I get to peeing in my pants. There is no way anyone is here.

  I push the door open and holy hell was I wrong. I freeze at the sight before me, not sure what the hell to do. Do I run? Close my mouth maybe? Yeah, that might be a start.

  A man is hanging upside down on a bar, his arms crossed over his chest, doing sit ups. He’s shirtless and full of tattoos, his defined muscles flexing as he moves with little effort. I can’t make out what he looks like, except that his body is lean, muscular, and splattered in ink; every exposed inch of it, only stopping at his neck.

  There’s a small lamp on a table in the corner, giving off just enough light to see that he’s there and covered in sweat.

  He stops mid lift and growls when he notices the door is open. Every muscle in his body stiffens, and before I know it he maneuvers his way off the bar and jumps down to his feet.

  He stands up straight, his sweats hanging low off his slender waist as his muscles tense up again. He clenches his jaw, before taking a step toward me and stopping, just close enough for me to see his face.

  My breath hitches in my throat at his beauty and becomes even harder to catch when I look into his pale gray eyes. All that reflects there is pain and darkness. It gives me a chill that runs all throughout my body, but makes my legs quiver with desire at the same time.

  His head is slightly tilted forward, allowing a strand of his blonde hair to fall into his eyes as they slowly roam up my body, stopping on my face. He doesn’t say a word. He just looks up into my eyes, making my blood run cold. He looks deadly; like a fucking lethal machine ready to strike. His arms are flexed by his sides with his hands clenched into fists. He’s at least six-foot-one.

  I don’t know whether I want to run away or into his bed, wherever that may be. His eyes are so powerful and demanding that I can’t even talk. It’s like he has some kind of power over me. I just stare back like a fool and hope that I won’t fall to my knees.

  That is until I feel a hand on my shoulder, shaking me out of my revelry. I jump and a small scream escapes my throat as I turn around to see Jax. He looks pissed and I know that I’m in trouble.

  “What are you doing down here, Avalon? Didn’t Madison tell you to stay the fuck upstairs? Fucking shit.” He looks past me at his friend that is still looking at me; his eyes cold, dark, and demanding. “Sorry, Royal. It won’t happen again. I told everyone to fucking stay upstairs.”

  I see Royal swallow before he pulls his eyes away from me and sets them on Jax. He doesn’t speak though. He just nods his head as Jax pushes me out of the room and into the hall. “Shit, Avalon. What the fuck are you doing down here? Now is not the time to fuck with him.”

  I swallow hard and look back and forth between him and the door, just wanting to get one more glimpse at Royal. “I had to use the bathroom and all the ones upstairs were full. I didn’t mean to disturb him. I’m sorry.”

  He pushes me down the hall a couple doors down and points. “That’s the bathroom. Go quickly and I’ll stay here. I think it’s best that Madison takes you home for the night. I’m sorry, but this shit is not cool.”

  I apologize to him one more time before disappearing into the bathroom and finally catching my breath. When I do, all I smell is man; pure, sexy, masculine man, and my heart goes crazy all over again. What the fuck was that and what the hell did I get myself into?

  Madison is going to kill me . . .

  I COULDN’T TURN MY EYES away. I wanted her, needed her . . . and desired her. One glimpse into her big, curious eyes and my cock twitched, wanting a fucking taste.

  When I saw her watching me, I wanted to rip that tight little skirt off of her and tie her to the wall as I bury myself deep between those trembling thighs. I want her to feel me; every fucking inch of me.

  Feeling the madness build up inside of me, I walk back over to the bar, grab it, and do pull ups until my arms are shaking so hard that I can no longer hold on.

  The music has since faded out upstairs, letting me know that it’s well into the night now. This is when I know it’s okay to come out of this cage I’ve put myself in. Avoiding people at all costs was my damn plan tonight, but someone decided to fuck that up, and now I need some fresh air to breathe.

  Reaching for my leather jacket, I throw it on and pull out a cigarette, before shoving the rest of the pack into my pocket.

  I light the cigarette, taking a long drag as I make my way through the dark house and outside to where my Harley is parked out back.

  Letting the smoke fill my lungs for the first time in twelve hours, I walk around my bike and inspect it for damage. I have zero trust for the assholes that come into my home, but I allow it for Jax.

  He can be reckless sometimes, but he’s done a pretty decent job with keeping my shit together, both here and at the bar. I have to be thankful for that shit.

  Seeing that there’s no damage, I toss my cigarette aside and straddle my bike, speeding off into the dark night. Feeling the wind on my face is one of the only two good feelings that I have left. The other one is fucking, and even
that I don’t enjoy sometimes. I do it as a quick escape from my fucked up head.

  Pulling up at my bar, Savage & Ink, I park my bike and pull out my key, letting myself in through the back door.

  The place smells of old cigarette smoke and a freshly smoked blunt. I can hear Blaine, along with at least four other voices as I make my way past the tattoo parlor and into the bar.

  Blaine nods his head in my direction when he notices that I’ve now joined them. “Hey, Royal. What’s good, motherfucker?”

  I nod my head in greeting and take a seat on one of the old, leather stools. I empty out my jacket pocket onto the stool next to me and get comfortable. “Whiskey. A whole fucking bottle.”

  The bar closed about forty minutes ago, yet three guys and some blonde female in a small, skin tight dress are occupying one of the tables, looking baked out of their damn minds. I was expecting the place to be empty. I can’t deal with people today. All I wanted was one fucking night to grieve for Riley and I can’t even get that shit; not in my own home or my own damn bar.

  “Who the fuck are they?” I question Blaine when he returns with a bottle of whiskey and an empty glass.

  He walks around the bar and answers me as I pour myself a much-needed glass. “My guy Jake and a few of his friends. I told them it was cool to hang out as long as they were paying for shit and not messing anything up. They’re good business, man. I didn’t think you’d be coming in tonight. Sorry.”

  I raise a brow and throw back my glass of whiskey, almost emptying it completely. “I want them out by the time I leave tonight. No more of the shit like last time.”

  “I know, man. They’re cool. I promise. Just enjoy that fucking whiskey and chill.”

  I lean back in my stool and watch them, not trusting them for shit. I’ve never seen them in my life. That makes it pretty obvious that they have no fucking clue who I am, and I don’t like that one bit; not when in my place of business so late at night.

  The blonde female looks my way and bites her bottom lip, as if just noticing me. Her legs slightly part and she sits up straight, as if trying to push her tits out.

  “Damn,” Blaine hisses. “Looks like Kellie has you in her sights now. That bitch can give a mean blowjob and she’s picky as fuck about who she gives them to.” He pushes my arm and adjusts his dick, while watching her lick her lips. “I blew my shit within three minutes the other night. That’s unheard of for me.”

  I don’t say anything. I just watch her, watching me as if she wants to eat me for a fucking midnight snack.

  Getting bored with her, I turn around in my stool and pour myself another glass. Just as I pick up the glass and bring it to my lips, I feel a hand touch my arm and gently caress it.

  Fuck . . .

  I keep my head straight, but turn my eyes to my left, looking her up and down. She may not be as hot as the beautiful brunette that barged her way into my room tonight, but she’s definitely doable, and I need all the stress relief I can get right now.

  Cutting straight past the bullshit, I stand, look her in the eyes, and then start walking while tilting back my drink to get to the right amount of numbness that I need.

  Cracking my neck, I set my empty glass down on the nearest table and disappear into the office, knowing that she’ll fucking follow. They always do.

  When I turn around, Kellie, as Blaine called her, is walking through the door with a seductive ass look in her eyes.

  “Close it,” I demand. “But don’t fucking lock it.” I hate locked doors. I like to have easy access in case there’s ever a problem I need to deal with.

  She does as told and walks over to stand in front of me as I lean against my desk and light a cigarette.

  Taking a drag, I place my hand on her throat and squeeze. She lets out a surprised gasp and then smiles, as she looks me in the eyes.

  Not wanting to start up a conversation and have fucking small talk, I push down on her head until she’s on her knees in front of me, reaching for my belt.

  After the way I was left feeling a couple of hours ago, I need this shit right now.

  I grip the desk with one hand and hold my cigarette to my mouth with the other as I feel her tongue swirl around my tip, before she takes me into her mouth, gagging as she adjusts to my size.

  Blaine was right. She does give a mean blowjob, but there’s no way this chick will have me blowing anytime soon.

  Twenty minutes of her mouth on my cock and I’m still not relieved. She keeps going faster and harder, taking me deeper until she’s choking and digging her nails into my thighs. It’s still not doing what I need.

  Without a knock the door flings open and Blaine pokes his head inside. “Dude, what the fuck? It’s been like twenty minutes.”

  I grab the back of Kellie’s head and take charge myself, holding her head still as I thrust into her mouth.

  “Get the fuck out, asshole. Now.”

  Blaine takes a second to watch us and moans, before finally shutting the door and disappearing. He always finds some kind of fucking excuse to barge in when I’m getting off in my damn office. Horny little shit. He takes advantage of the fact that I hate locked doors.

  Right after he closes the door, I stand up straight and tangle my hands into her hair, thrusting one more time before holding her still as I shoot my hot cum down her throat.

  She swallows and wipes her mouth off as she stands up and fixes her now wild hair. “Fuck . . . my mouth is numb,” she complains.

  “Yeah, and so is my dick.”

  She smiles, ignoring my comment, and runs her hands down my thighs seductively. “How long do you need before we fuck? I can go all night, babe.”

  I tilt my head toward the door. “I’ll be out in a few minutes. Tell Blaine I said to make you a fucking drink on me,” I say in dismissal.

  A flash of disappointment crosses her face as she fixes her hair one last time, and then walks out the door mumbling.

  I sit in the dark for a good fifteen minutes before washing up and joining Blaine and the others back in the bar. I don’t really want them here, but I’ll deal for as long as I can.

  Blaine is too busy talking to his guy Jake behind the bar to notice what’s going on over at the table, but it’s the first thing my eyes land on.

  Lines of blow cover the table, accompanied by a pile of cash and a little plastic bag.

  The guy with a green flannel is leaning over the table, getting ready to sample the goods.

  “Get your trash the fuck out of here,” I say firmly. “Do that shit somewhere else.”

  I don’t trust fuckers that I don’t know.

  The guy in the flannel laughs and says, “Fuck off,” before leaning completely over and snorting the whole line. He stands up when done and smirks. “Don’t know who the fuck you are.”

  I hear Blaine stammer, “Oh shit,” at the same time that I make my way over to the table and grab the asshole by the back of the neck, hard.

  Clenching my jaw, I move my hand up to the back of his head and slam it into the table, repeatedly, until all of their merchandise is scattered around the table and floor, his face covered in blood.

  One of his friends comes at me, but I pull out my knife and place the blade against his throbbing neck.

  I feel Blaine grip my shoulder, but I ignore him, pressing my lips beside the little bitch’s ear, letting him know that he’s fucked with the wrong person tonight. “This is my fucking bar, and I said get your trash the fuck out. Don’t make me repeat myself again. I hate repeating myself.”

  I slam his head into the table one last time to make sure he gets the message, before releasing him and turning to his friend, who is now standing with his hands up.

  “Get the fuck out of here.” I point to the table and start walking over to pour myself another drink, before I end up killing one of these assholes. “Clean that shit up first.”

  Blaine approaches me, but I throw him a look that tells him he’s about to lose his life if he takes another step. Tonight is no
t the fucking night to cross me.

  He backs off, knowing not to push me right now. I know it’s not his fault, but he knows how I feel about strangers dealing drugs in my motherfucking bar.

  That shit has already fucked me over once. It’s what got me here in the first place . . .

  I SEND A TEXT TO MADISON for the third time today since I’ve left the house. Twenty minutes later and I still have no response from her over dramatic ass. I’ve been looking at my phone like an idiot for most of the day now, just hoping she’d cool off by this point. She barely even spoke to me before I left this morning to go to Colton’s; pretty much just said good fucking morning and have a fantastic time at the boring dinner party tonight. I feel really bad about what I did, but I seriously had to go. I couldn’t help it. Maybe next time I should just pop a squat in a nearby flowerpot. I just hope she gets over it soon. I hate a pissy Madison.

  Colton is having a party at his house tonight; more like a business dinner to show appreciation and hopefully draw more people in. All of his top clients as well as their friends and family will be showing up any minute now for overly priced food and wine. Honestly, most of it looks unsatisfying and sort of gross to me.

  I feel completely out of place here, but Colton suggested that I help set up and stick around for the party. I only agreed since I haven’t seen him in practically three damn days, and because Madison spent most of the morning shooting daggers my way. Plus, I thought maybe it would feel nice to spend some time with him and do something as a team, but he’s been uptight and on edge all day.

  “Hey, Marie, baby.” I look up from the bowl of fruit salad that I’m picking at and exhale, annoyed. “Mind giving me a hand with these glasses and plates? We need to hurry. A car just pulled up out front and I don’t want to keep anyone waiting.”

  Colton barely even looks at me when I make my way over to him and reach for a stack of plates. “Stop calling me that,” I complain. “I don’t like being called by my middle name and you know it.”