Royal Savage

Taking a few deep breaths, I close my eyes and everything from last night hits me all at once, making me feel like a damn fool for the way I acted.

Yanking the covers off of me, I look down to see that I’m still completely naked. My temperature rises from embarrassment.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! I can’t believe this.”

Jumping to my feet, I quickly look around to be sure that I’m alone while reaching for what’s left of my clothes to quickly get dressed.

It’s amazing what liquid courage can do for you. I can’t believe that I seriously suggested that Royal pleasure himself for me last night, and I can’t believe that he actually did. That insanely hot image will forever be in my head, making it hard for anything else to ever compare. That thought is sort of scary.

Breathing heavily and feeling a bit insane, I look up at the doorway to see Royal standing there, watching me. He looks a mess, as if he hadn’t slept at all last night. I have to admit that a mess looks sinfully sexy on him, and that alone makes me realize that I need to go before I do anything else stupid.

“Let’s go.” He grips the doorframe and takes a few seconds to look me up and down, before turning and walking away.

I walk outside a few minutes later, expecting him to be in his truck waiting, but instead he pulls up next to me on his motorcycle, looking damn sexy and dangerous; a lethal combination that I can barely handle right now.

After my dream of him this morning, just the thought of touching him sends me over the edge. This man seriously has no idea of the effect he physically has on me. I don’t even get it.

“Shit,” I whisper. “Don’t think about last night.”

“Hop on,” he yells over the sound of the bike, while pulling me to him and sliding the helmet on me. His eyes meet mine, but he quickly clenches his jaw and turns away, leaving my heart sinking.

Feeling anxious from his cold shoulder, I jump on behind him, but grab onto the bike instead of him.

“Arms around me,” he demands. “And hold on tight.”

He leans his head back and stiffens a bit when my arms wrap around his waist, before finally taking off in a hurry.

When we reach my car, I quickly jump off and hand him his helmet. I really just want to get away from him right now. He’s so damn hard to read and hard to deal with this early in the morning. “Thanks for letting me crash in your bed, Royal.”

He nods his head and slides his helmet on, looking me over. “Better my bed than Colton’s,” he says stiffly.

I’m not really sure what to say to that, so I just pull out my keys and walk over to my car, trying my best not to glance back at him as I hop inside and start the engine. He waits for me to pull out and take off before I notice him following behind me.

He’s behind me for a few minutes, following closely, before he finally turns off in the direction of the bar, allowing me to breathe for what feels like the first time since dinner last night.

“Holy shit.” I breathe out. He’s so damn intense. I’ve never met a man so powerful and heart-stopping in my life.

I grip the steering wheel and take a deep breath when I pull up at a stoplight. I’m supposed to work in less than two hours and I have a feeling that it’s going to be extremely hard to concentrate now.

There’s so much running through my head right now that it’s giving me a headache. The thing eating at me the most is that I need to meet up with Colton and break things off completely. If I don’t do it as soon as possible, it’s only going to get harder, and then I’m going to explode with anxiety.

My plan was to go home, but instead, I find myself parked outside of Colton’s home. The first thing I notice is the red BMW in the driveway that isn’t his.

This is supposed to be when I feel some kind of jealousy or anger or something, right? That feeling that you would get if you were in love with someone . . . but all I feel is relief. I knew when he introduced me to his business partner that there had to be more there. The problem was I just didn’t care to question him on it.

I want to do this, but I want to do it right and say it to his face. I know that’s most likely not going to happen before work, so I send him a quick text, ignoring the handful of ones that he sent me last night.

Avalon: We need to talk in person. Are you available to meet up?

Setting my phone in the passenger seat, I drive back home and park, before checking for his response.

Colton: I can’t. I’m already at the office. We need to talk about yesterday, Marie. I am not happy with you or the little stunt that my brother pulled. Meet me for dinner tomorrow?

Avalon: Yes, we do need to talk about yesterday. Dinner tomorrow will work.

Colton: Good . . . I miss you. I miss us . . .

I know he’s probably waiting for me to respond with I miss you too, but that’s not happening. I just can’t lie and pretend anymore. The truth is, I stopped missing him months ago.

I WATCH FROM THE CORNER of my eye as Claudette walks around examining each of our stations. She always does this when she stops in for her three-hour inspection every Thursday and it drives us all crazy.

Madison bumps my shoulder, stopping me from sweeping. “Where were you last night? Please tell me you weren’t with Colton.”

I flash a fake smile when Claudette looks my way. “No,” I whisper. “I’ll tell you when Claudette leaves.”

“You suck,” she hisses.

“Madison,” Claudette calls out. “Now would be a nice time to clean your station. Is it not?”

Madison huffs in my ear and backs away to her station. “On it.”

The salon is pretty much uneventful for the next hour; everyone working like good little robots until Claudette finally walks out the door for the day.

“Oh thank God!” Madison screams, while plopping down in her chair. “I haven’t had a client in thirty minutes and she expects me to just stand here like a damn stiff with a smile plastered on my face. How does her husband deal with her? She must give some damn good head.”

A few of the other girls laugh and a couple of clients actually join in on the chuckling as well. It’s no secret that no one here can stand Claudette. Even the regulars seem to steer clear when they know she’ll be dropping in for her weekly inspection. I don’t blame them, because I wish I could too, but unfortunately, being the manager doesn’t allow me that pleasure.