Page 31 of Chaos at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 2)
“You're lying,” I snap back at him, moving to stand up, to storm out, to get the fuck out of this house and away from these boys. I don't know what to think when I'm around them, how to act. But Aaron doesn't let me go; his hands tighten on my ass, bruising me, holding me in place. In retaliation, I stick my thumb into his wound, and he grits his teeth so hard I'm afraid he's going to break one off.
“Why the fuck would I lie about that?” he snarls back at me, using his hands to guide my hips, so that our pelvises grind together. It's been years since I last slept with Aaron, since right before we broke up. Well, except for that one time … I don't let myself go back to that memory, focusing instead on the ardent intensity of the moment.
“Because you thought I'd enjoy such shallow sentimentality?” I quip back, cocking a brow and then reaching down to curl my fingers beneath the bottom of the t-shirt. With an indolent sensuality, I strip it off and toss it aside, leaving my breasts bare and right at the level of Aaron's face. He exhales, and his warm breath feathers across my nipples, hardening them to fine, pink points.
“It isn't sentimentality, Bern. It's just how I fucking feel.” Aaron gathers me close, wrapping tattooed arms around me. They feel like home, those arms, but like I've walked into an entirely new renovation. I'm liking it, I'm just not used to it, not yet.
My head falls back as I groan, tangling my fingers in Aaron's auburn hair as he swirls his hot tongue around my nipple. His arms hold me tight, almost possessively. No, not almost. Definitely possessive.
Well, if Aaron wants to take me away from Vic, he's going to have to stand up for himself. He's going to have to fight.
I'm not expecting him to bite my nipple, and I cry out, clamping my hands over my mouth and closing my eyes as I remember the girls are upstairs. I told them to stay put, but … Shit. The fact that we could get caught should make me stop. But I can't. Guess I'm just that weak.
My hips seem to be moving of their own accord, stroking Aaron's bulge against the torrid heat between my thighs. It's not enough though, not even close. Just a fucking tease.
Aaron lifts his head up, running his tongue across his lower lip. The sight of that just undoes me. I drop my head to his, thrusting my tongue between his lips as his arms tighten around me. Our hips start to move faster, his pelvis coming up off the couch to grind against me. Our mouths feast on each other, like two hungry beasts in desperate need of a mate. I can taste Aaron on my lips, like sweet cherries and heartache, that's what he tastes like, what he's always tasted like.
Someone like Vic is easy, because you always know what to expect, where you stand.
Someone like Aaron is dangerous. He's unpredictable, his morals mean too much to him, and he has the potential to crawl inside your soul and ruin you, wreck you from the inside. I let him in once; I let him have all of me.
And he threw it away.
For Havoc.
For motherfucking Havoc.
“Havoc,” I murmur, and Aaron groans against my mouth as we kiss. “I'm calling Havoc.”
He grabs a handful of my panties and then simply tears them off, rending the fabric and chucking them to the floor. His right hand finds its way between my legs, stroking my wet folds and making my hips buck with pleasure. When he slides two fingers into me, I work my pelvis even harder, grinding into him and fucking his hand like it's his dick.
The movement of my body is working Aaron down there anyway, my ass rubbing up against him as he flicks his thumb across the swollen nub of my clit. His mouth envelops my right nipple again, scalding me, chasing the pert pink point with his tongue. My breath is coming in shallow pants as I hold his head against my chest, his tongue greedily lapping at my flesh.
“So good,” I murmur without even meaning to, my mind flickering back to a moment I’m not particularly proud of. It’s a moment I try to pretend doesn’t exist, that I’ve attempted to wipe from the narrative of my life. But it’s there, and I can’t forget it. Neither of us can, I bet.
“Shit, Bern,” Aaron growls back, curving his inked fingers against the back of my neck and giving me goose bumps. He pulls my face back toward him, kissing me again and then pressing our foreheads together. Our breath mingles as my eyes close and I’m reminded of that time in tenth grade when, in the midst of all Havoc’s bullying, Aaron and I fucked each other.
