Page 21 of The Spare

His brow lifts, and he narrows his eyes. "Didn't I tell you I was going to catch you?"

"Yes."

"And what did I tell you I was going to do when I catch you?" His hips nudge me firmly, causing me to become slick between my legs.

My brain whirls, remembering the things he'd taunt me with as we'd run while he chased me down over these last four years. "You said when you caught me, you'd…you'd…"I trail off at the look of absolute hunger in his eyes.

My God, he looksravenous.

His head dips down, and he brushes his lips ever so softly against me."I said I was going to fuck you,"he whispers against my lips, before sealing his mouth to mine in a deep kiss.

Gasping, I jerk out of my dream and sit straight up in bed, drenched with sweat and panting hard. The flesh between my legs throbs; my inner thighs are slick with the evidence of my excitement. I blow out a breathe and hold a shaky hand to my head, squeezing my eyes shut. This is the first time I've actually seen his face in my dreams in four years.

Leaning over, I flick on the bedside lamp, casting a glance at Karissa who's fast asleep under the covers and reach for my diary in my nightstand to get out my feelings. An hour later, I feel a little bit better, and I pull out my cell, sending out a text. I drop it to the bed on a frustrated huff, irritated at seeing it immediately bounce back as undelivered.

"What's the matter with you?" Karissa asks from her bed, still laying down.

I shake my head. "Howard's messages won't go through," I say irritably, referencing my latest love interest. If you could even call him that. It's been two weeks without a single word from him.

Just like the other four men who've mysteriously come and gone out of my life.

She scoffs, flopping back on the bed and rolling to her side to face me."So?Stop trying and move on to the next one."

My mouth parts at how dismissive and rude she is. "Karissa," I admonish, narrowing my eyes at her. "All my boyfriends keep disappearing. Can you show a little sympathy, please?"

She snorts, covering her hand with her mouth. "I'm sorry, Melody, but can you really call them yourboyfriendif you've never even slept with any of them? Come on, now. That's cute."

I roll my eyes."Rude."

"No, I'm a realist. Now, forget about all them fucks and go find yourself a real manand actually crawl under him, please.I'm tired of you being a virgin."

My jaw drops."Karissa!"

"What?"she whines, sitting back up. "Melody, you're missing out on so much! It's killing me. We're in our prime!"

I heave a sigh and shake my head, lamenting at my free-spirited, albeit very self-centered best friend. "I don't have time for this today. I have to go."

"Fence with daddy?" she says sarcastically. "Damn, I feel sorry for you."

Her words pierce me right in the heart, and I look at her sharply."Don't,"I snap as hurt fills my being. She knows how bad it hurts I don't have a dad, and how sometimes going to these fencing sparswith Richard helps keep the pain away. Why she'd so carelessly say something so hurtful is beyond me.

Karissa's eyes go wide and a wince crosses her face. "I-I'm sorry, Mel. You know I didn't mean it like that."

Sure she didn't.

Scooting off the bed, I head to my closet and grab my usual uniform of leggings and a plain t-shirt. "Gotta go, Karissa."

"Oh, Mel," she says in a sad voice, sitting up and giving me a pleading look."I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-"

Picking up my phone, I hoist my bag over my arm and slide my feet into a pair of sandals. "It's fine. Talk to you later."

Every other Saturday I fence with Richard, his way of bonding with me. He fences, and I was curious enough to pick it up as a hobby. He has his own thing with each of us girls. We fence, he travels around the world shopping for interior design furniture with Isobel, and he sits for all the fashion shows that Teresa drags him to.

I feel like an asshole for admitting that though Richard puts forth every effort, he's no replacement for what I've lost. It doesn't stop him from trying, though. He's very involved with us women. His sons, not so much.

It's weird, and I can't for the life of me figure it out even after three straight years of sleuthing. There's a missing piece of the puzzle I just can't find.

Every family gathering I sneak off to the library to delve into the journals that are locked up within The King Dynasty archives. There's dozens of meticulously documented accounts of relationships, marriages, families… but, I haven't gotten a clue toRichard'spast. His parents’ journals are missing for some reason, and something tells me they hold the answers to the questions I have regarding why Richard is so mistrusting of men, to include his own sons.