Page 54 of Royal Crush

He swallowed thickly, then put it up to his mouth and took the smallest bite.

“Youbityour ice cream,” I said flatly. “Fucking heathen.”

“You bit yours!”

“This is a snow cone. It’s different.” I crunched into mine again as I settled back around, and I heard him slurping a couple of times because, as I knew it would, it began to melt.

“Oh God, ohno,” he whispered.

Rolling my eyes, I twisted back around again and saw a pale green streak dripping down his wrist. He was holding the ice cream bar in the air and away from his body, so I snagged him by the edge of his sleeve, met his gaze, and licked.

His entire chest heaved with his inhale.

I did it again.

“Aleric,” he whispered.

“You really like saying my name.”

He said nothing as I let him go, and his hand fell slowly toward his trousers before he seemed to remember he was holding melting ice cream. “Christ, take this thing off me. I can’t do it. It’s…it’s not good, Aleric. I’m sorry.”

I burst into laughter as I snatched it away, took a big bite of a gumball, then walked over to the bin and threw it inside. As it did when I was a kid, the gum turned into crumbly powder before firming up into something barely chewable. The ice cream tasted like sugar and food coloring—the sweet flavor of youth.

“Mine’s better,” I said as I sat back down and thrust it at him. “This one you can bite without being a heretic.”

He gave me a flat look as he took it and sank his teeth into the slowly melting ice. “Oh. That’s much better.”

I nodded and pulled one of the licorice ropes off his lap. “If you’d listened to me and trusted me like you said you did, we could have avoided the turtle problem.”

He said nothing as he pursed his lips around the ball of the cone and sucked. My dick went a little hard, and I took it out on the licorice wrapping, gnawing off a huge chunk with my molars. His smirk showed me he knew what he was doing.

That was payback.

“And that?” he asked, pointing to the candy. His tongue sounded thick with how cold it was.

I held up the end and waved it at him. “Chemicals. Red dye. All the shit that’s bad for kids these days.”

He curled freezing cold fingers around my wrist, then took a very delicate bite. His teeth were so white, a little crooked, and sharp. I damn near swallowed my tongue.

“Not bad.”

“That’s like five stars coming from you.” I set the licorice down on his thighs and went for one of the gum cigarettes. The poor man only had a handful, but they were enough to take up space in my cigarette case. I put the paper between my lips and blew.

Camillo reared back. “What was that?”

“Cocaine.” It was a struggle to keep a straight face when Camillo choked, but I managed it.

His eyes went wide. “Aleric! You can’t be serious!”

“Oh my God, no. I’m not serious. It’s sugar. Christ, is it against some royal decree to have a sense of humor?”

“I have a sense of humor,” he defended.

That was debatable, though I had a feeling there was something bigger lurking under his skin. Something a little wild and a lot precious that needed to be treasured. I swung around to my knees, knowing I’d regret that later, and I picked up one of the other cigarettes and put it to his lips.

“Blow.”

He didn’t.

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