Page 36 of Royal's Reign
“Hey, no.” I mumble like a kid who’s just remembered he has a dick and what effect a pretty chick can have on it. “I was talking to myself.”
“Ahh, you know what they say about that, don’t you?” she catches the eye of the bartender. “Rum, neat on the rocks.”
“What do they say?” I ask knowing exactly what she’s about to say, but for some strange reason,against my previous need to be left alone, I want to keep her right here. And the only way to do that, barring handcuffing her to the chair, is to keep her talking. Her voice is pure elixir and has an effect that’s new to me.
“Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness.” Fumbling in her purse, she takes out a ten-dollar bill, holding it between glossy painted fingernails, and presents it to the bartender.
“I’ll get that,” I wave him away from taking her money. “Add it to my tab.”
“Certainly, sir,” he acknowledges before moving away to serve someone further down the bar.
“So, what’s the second sign?” I watch as she places her pretty lips to the glass and takes a sip of the amber liquid.
“Oh, that’s answering yourself. When you get to that level, it’s time to book in with a shrink, kinda shit.”
I can’t help but laugh, and to be honest, it feels good. The distraction, it feels real good.
“You have a tab running.” She lifts the glass to her mouth again, this time brushing the smooth edge against her bottom lip. “You planning on getting drunk?”
“You care to join me?” I counter. Her response is a slight tilt of her head, a narrowing of her eyes as if weighing up the options. Another sip of rum and she comes back at me.
“Do you make a habit of it? Getting drunk, that is?”
“Would it bother you if I did?”
She flings back her head, and a deep rumble of a laugh fills the air. Far deeper than what you expect from such a sweet lyrical voice.
“Tell me, do you always answer a question with another question?
“Is that a sign of madness too?” I respond this time, keeping my face stoic. She stares at me for a beat, her expression mimicking mine, then a smile cracks across her face and once again, her head tilts back and she lets out that crazy laugh. This time for longer, giving me the perfect view of her beautiful neck. The urge to put my mouth against the soft skin right where I would feel the jumping of her pulse against my tongue makes me hard. I blink away the notion.
“Do you come here often?” she suddenly asks, a smile still playing on her lips.
“Jesus, is that your best chat-up line?” I snigger back, because this girl is witty, sort of cool, not to forget sexy and so damn beautiful. She certainly has my full attention.
Still laughing, she picks up her drink and knocks back what’s left in the glass before placing it back on top of the bar, then slides off the stool, getting to her feet.
“Hey, where are you going?” I ask quickly, catching hold of her arm, not wanting her to leave. I’m enjoying the interaction between the two of us, which has taken me by surprise. It’s been a long time since I came upona woman that I regarded as anything other than an option to get my nut sack emptied. Conversation wasn’t a requirement. But when it comes to her, it’s different. I’m intrigued. I want to get to know more about her.
“Hey, enough.” Her hand comes over mine, and she slides it from her arm. “Stop the question thing, funny at first, but the joke’s getting a little stale.” I hit her with a questioning stare. “Not that it’s any of your business where I’m going, but if you must know, I’m hitting the bathroom, so unless you want me to disgrace myself in front of everyone here in the bar?”
“Are you coming back?” I sound desperate. Funny thing is, I don’t want to let her go, but rather than looking like a complete psycho, I do.
“Again, with the questions,” she throws her arms out dramatically, but she’s smiling too. “You going to rack me up another drink?
“Will a double do it?” I laugh back.
“Then, in the great words of Arnie, ‘I’ll be back.” She shoots a finger at me then turns to walk toward the bathroom. I take the chance to watch the way she moves. The swing of her hips, the gentle bounce of her ass cheeks under the fabric of her fitted jeans, the lines of her lush body. She’s a curvy girl and, fuck, she’s absolute perfection.
I openmy eyes only to slam them shut again; the brightness of the sunlight is like a hammer to my head. Turning my head away from the window, I tentatively lift open one eye to survey my surroundings, because at this precise moment, I have no fucking idea where I am.
The pain in my head rears up again, but not quite as bad, so I push myself up onto my ass and swing my legs over the side of the bed I find myself in. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that I’m in a hotel room, alone. But the two used glasses sitting on top of the dresser, the upturned champagne bottle stuffed into an ice bucket, tells me that at some point, I hadn’t been the only one here ruffling up the bed sheets. Images flash in my head. Leaving the clubhouse after learning about Royal and Gio. Checking in at the uptown hotel that charges way over the odds per night. The bar, the bourbon, the beautiful woman that had me under her spell. I rack my brain for more details. We’d drunk too much, that I do recall, but did she come back to my room?
Is that sex I smell in the air, or just my wishful thinking?
I get to my feet, head spinning as I frantically tread my way to the bathroom. The urgency partly in hope that the woman is still here, freshening up. The other is, my bladder is going to burst if I don’t take a piss real soon. A pang of disappointment hits me when I find the room empty, but I let out a sigh of relief when I relievemyself.
Standing in the doorway of the bathroom looking back out into the bedroom, I look for further signs of what could have gone down. It looks like any other hotel room that’s been slept in. No condom wrappers, no used ones either, and I’m pretty sure that even in a drunken haze, I wouldn’t forget to bag up before sticking my dick into any hole. Even one as sexy as … “Fuck,” I grumble to myself. “I didn’t even get her fucking name.” I do remember that we spent a few hours together, drinking, laughing. The flirting was off the charts hot, but her name? If she had told me, I can’t remember for the life of me.
