Royal Savage (Savage & Ink 1)

Madison spits out her drink, almost spewing it all over some girl as she walks past. The tall blonde throws her arms up in disgust and gives Jax a glare before walking off.

Jax just smiles in amusement as if he doesn’t give a shit, checking Madison out. “That would definitely be a bonus,” he says, not hiding his excitement at the idea. He turns to me and nods. “Nice to meet you,” then turns back to Madison. “Find me in a bit, yeah?” He winks before walking off to talk to another small crowd that is calling him over.

“Holy fuck, Ava.” She pinches my arm really hard and pushes me back into the house so she can make a new drink. “I haven’t even gotten to that part with him yet. We’re not talking like that! Well I want to, but shit. Now he knows that I want into those sexy ass jeans of his; not to mention that I’m a kinky bitch.”

I smile big and laugh under my breath as she tries to fight back her smile. She loves me for what I just did and she knows it. She’ll be thanking me later. “You’re welcome.” I glance around me in search of the bathroom. “Hey, I have to use the bathroom. Do you need to go?”

She grabs my drink out of my hand and waves some girl over that she must know. “No, I’m fine for a while. I don’t want to break the seal. I’m not spending all my time in the bathroom. I’ve waited for weeks to get my ass here.” I get ready to walk away, but she grabs my arm, stopping me. “Oh, and I was told not to go downstairs. His friend is hiding out for the night. I guess he had a shitty day and told everyone to stay the fuck upstairs. There has to be at least two bathrooms upstairs and probably one or two on this floor, so take your pick, babes. Got it?”

“Nice to know,” I say before walking away as Madison starts talking to the short brunette she waved over.

Once I get upstairs, it’s easy to spot which rooms are the bathrooms. There are lines to every single one. Seriously! Why do women always have to pee? You give them a few alcoholic beverages and they’re in the bathroom every five minutes instead of actually enjoying the party. I knew I should’ve used the bathroom before I left. I was just about to go before Madison announced that the cab was there.

After walking around to every single bathroom, which there are three by the way—one off of the master bedroom, which had a threesome going on in it, so we won’t even talk about that—I take a spot in line at the end of the shortest one and that still has like ten or so women and a couple guys before me.

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.