Royal Prick (A Stepbrother Romance)(10)

By: J.L. Beck

I felt like I was being sized up. Like I was silently being judged.

“Noelle?” His voice was husky and thick. Though there was a warm tone to it, one that made me want to do things I know I shouldn’t, and as my name rolled off his tongue I felt the need to beg him to say it again. Which was strange since I didn’t beg anyone to do anything, especially someone like Royal.

Like I said—bad things. Very bad things.

My nostrils flared as I forced my chin higher. This guy was a class A asshole. He knew what he was doing, and it didn’t bother him one bit. He was getting amusement from seeing me flustered.

“Yes, I’m surprised you could remember my name or the fact that there are other people living in this home.” My voice was all snark, and I could see the ghost of a smile lingering against his lips as I spoke. He wanted to give in and smile but didn’t. That small smirk forming into a scary snarl as he forced his way into my space forcing me to take a step back, or be chest to chest with him. My back hit the door that was behind me causing it to slam shut, and the feeling of being trapped overwhelmed me. “I just wanted to see if you could turn your music down a bit; I’m trying to study,” I squeaked out quietly

“This might be your house, princess…” The look in his eyes was feral. I could feel the heat of his stare against my skin. “But it doesn’t mean you can barge into my fucking space and order me around.” Sweat formed against my brow, and my teeth sunk into my bottom lip without thought. It was as if I was no longer under control of my own body. Once again I found my stare lingering all over his body. Across his slick and tone shoulders, down his impeccable chest, and over his eight pack of washboard abs.

Royal had the physique of an athlete, someone who took the time to strengthen their body. My insides quivered with a need that I didn’t understand. My eyes honed in on the droplets of sweat that were clinging to his body; the small drops gliding over his muscles and down toward his black basketball shorts, which seemed to sink lower on his hips with every single movement he made, revealing the very top of his….

“If you wanted me to take off my shorts all you had to do was ask…” he interrupted my thought before I could finish it. My heart was racing out of my chest as his agile fingers gripped the sides of his shorts. What the hell!

My eyes grew wide with fear and maybe a tinge of excitement as he shoved his shorts down his long toned legs. I averted my attention to his face knowing that all his junk was on full display. I forced a breath into my lungs and narrowed my eyes at him trying to show him that anything he did, didn’t affect me as much as he wanted it to.

“This is my house, too.” My words trembled, teetered on the very verge of not even being said. I tried to take another step away from him, keeping my eyes on the stupid smirk that started to form on his face.

“You want my cock, Noelle?” His words were dirty, hell he was fucking dirty. I shook my head now, causing my hair to fly into my face shielding my emotions from him.

“Just….” I stuttered again. “Just put some damn clothes on, Royal, and for fucks sake please keep your music down.” I turned on my heels, pulling the door open as quickly as I possibly could, running from his bedroom and straight into my own slamming and locking the door behind me.

I could practically hear the laughter escaping his lips. There was no way I could handle him. He was so much more than I ever expected.

So intimidating.

So dark.

He had a story to tell but was too afraid to tell it.

I was going to have a heart attack if I had to deal with this kind of behavior every single day. I really thought there was some good in him, but maybe my mom was right? Maybe some people were a lost cause? If he refused to even be civil then what was the point?

“Deep breaths…” I whispered to myself leaning against the wall. Royal didn’t give a shit about what I had to say… The loud pounding of his music all but said it. I ran a hand down my face in frustration. This wasn’t going to work. He was bad, very bad; the worst kind of bad. The kind that I spent my entire high school career avoiding.

I wanted to stomp back over to his bedroom and remind him that it was me who fought to make sure he could stay here but didn’t. It would be pointless. He didn’t care about anything but himself. Instead, I threw myself down on my mattress as another song started, the beat of it causing a dull ache to form at the back of my head.

My thoughts lingered back to what had just taken place. Did he really just take his shorts off in front of me? Did I want him to? I couldn’t think about anything else for the rest of the night as I sat in my bedroom wondering what it was he was doing across the hall.

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