Cruel King (Royal Elite 0)

Why is there someone digging near my head?

I cradle my skull and wince. Apparently, the digging is in my head.

I turn to the side and sit up slowly. On the nightstand, there’s a cup of coffee, a bottle of water and paracetamol pills.

I snatch the water and pills. The water soothes my scratchy throat enough to sip the coffee.

Eww. It’s bitter.

I still sip it anyway because I need to wake up.

Tequila shots — and whatever shots I had afterwards — were a bad idea.

If Dan was going to stop me, he should’ve done it earlier.

I’m adding that to his friendship manual.

I feel like I’m going to topple over and puke all over myself. Oh, and the hangover will last for a week.

My gaze strays to my surroundings. I’m sitting on a king-sized bed with untidy sheets. The open balcony causes curtains to flap inside and into the room.

I’ve never seen this room in Dan’s house before. And since when do they have gold-rimmed ceilings?

I stare down at myself and gasp when I find out I’m only wrapped in a bathroom robe.

With a beating heart, I stare underneath. Shit. I’m completely naked.

I’m not in Dan’s house and I’m naked. Please tell me I didn’t do something I’ll regret.

The clearing of a throat pulls me from my stupor. My head snaps to the other side. I didn’t even realise someone else was in the room.

My breath comes in short gasps. Levi sits in a recliner with his jean-clad legs crossed above each other.

He’s wearing a black T-shirt that sticks to his defined abdominal muscles. His tousled hair is pushed back giving a full view of the sharp lines in his face and the murderous look in his pale eyes.

My stupid body comes to life and tiny tingles shoot straight to my core.

Nope. I’m not going there.

Crossing the robe over my chest, I jerk off the bed, abandoning the cup of coffee on the nightstand.

A stupid little part of me is wishing for a word from him. A touch.

Anything.

But I’m not that girl anymore.

It’s the first time I take the Clifford pride seriously. Levi won’t dictate my life anymore.

Tucking in my headache and my shell of a heart, I stride to the door. The moment I open it, a hand slams it shut from behind.

A large — and a very hard — body glues to my back. And the warmth. Damn him and his warmth.

I dig my elbows into his ribs. He doesn’t back off.

If anything, he pushes his hips into me from behind, pinning me in place.

Angry tears barge to my eyes.