Page 75 of Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 1)
Hael moves his hand back to that sweet spot he found earlier, teasing my clit and obliterating the rest of me. There's nothing but my body, wrapped around his, two hearts beating while two bodies flame.
With his free hand, Hael holds my hip, kneading his fingers against my inked flesh. There's a pink dragon wrapped around a lotus blossom tree, the petals of the flowers bleeding into her scales. The piece cost over a thousand bucks, but I stole the money from my mother's wallet the day before her big Vegas trip with her girlfriends and let her blame it on the Thing.
It was money well-spent.
A sigh escapes as my body begins to tighten around Hael, my climax coming too quick and too hot to stop. The bright hot ache of perfect agony explodes in my core, and I lean forward as the pulses overtake my body. With a growl, Hael rocks his hips up, pushing himself into me again and again. My bare breasts are against his hard chest, and the urge to kiss him is overwhelming.
But I don't.
Instead, I dig my nails into his shoulders as another orgasm washes over me, consuming what little decorum I've got left.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I groan, panting as Hael lets me fall over the edge, his own climax not far behind. He grunts against my shoulder, his body slicked with sweat, shuddering as he spills himself into the condom.
For almost two whole songs, we just lay there panting.
“Shit,” he grumbles, and then pushes me over into the passenger seat—not unkindly—before exhaling and swiping his hands down his sweaty face. “Well, that was fun.” Hael looks me over appreciatively.
At least I can see that his hands are shaking, that I've had some effect on him. He sits up and turns the ignition, letting the Camaro rumble to life beneath us before bothering to remove the condom and fix his pants. He ties it off, and then climbs out to chuck it in the dumpster before coming back.
I don't say a thing, just slip my clothes on in the tight space, my body throbbing and humming, my breath still coming in pants.
“Off we go,” Hael says, revving the engine and peeling out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires. He takes me straight home, and, seeing as it's a ten-minute walk, it's all of a two-minute drive. Neither of us speaks, both lost in thought. My mind is obsessively turning over Victor's words. No clue what Hael is fixated on.
He pulls up in the driveway, parking next to my mother's car.
Fuck.
She's always home when I most need her to be away.
“Need any backup going in there?” Hael asks, his inked hands on the steering wheel. He glances my way and gives me this cocksure little smile. “I'm happy to throw your stepdad against the wall again if needed.”
“No, I'll be fine,” I say, because really, I just sort of need to get away from him. There's this strange churning in my stomach that I can't explain, that almost feels like guilt.
“Alright then,” he says, watching as I gather up my backpack and open the door. I notice he doesn't try to be a 'gentleman' this time. “Bring your stuff for a sleepover tomorrow. If you need to make arrangements for your sister, Aaron's hiring a babysitter.”
Without responding, I slip out and head inside, slinking up the stairs before Mom can assault me on them, and then settle myself in to wait for Heather's bus. Luckily, the after-school program has one that brings her straight home.
Meanwhile, I have a moment to nibble on my lower lip and think about what just happened.
I just had sex with Hael Harbin.
I'm also certain I've just pissed Victor off.
It's going to be interesting, seeing what tomorrow brings …The next morning, Hael picks me up just after Heather gets on the bus, smoking a cigarette out the window of the car. He eyes my leather pants and jacket as I climb in, and makes a sound of appreciation under his breath.
“Lookin' good this morning, Blackbird,” he tells me, starting the car and taking me just a few blocks away before he pulls into the driveway of a vacant house with a For Sale sign in the yard. After climbing out, Hael walks across the street and sticks something under the rear bumper of a white Kia Sportage.
“What the hell was that all about?” I ask, and he shrugs.
“Vic'll explain tonight,” he tells me, and then his eyes rove my body again. “You give a fuck about missing first period? Because I don't.”
“It's sort of like high school roulette,” I explain, shrugging one shoulder. “You know those automated calls they send out when you miss class? If my mom happens to answer one, she might tear me a new one. If not, all is rainbows and unicorn shit.”
