Page 68 of Mayhem At Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 3)
The sound of Vic’s Harley pulling up alongside us registers with me, but I can’t pull away. Instead, my arms tangle around Aaron’s neck as we fall into each other. The shadowy laughter from the other cars, the faint smell of fries and chili, it all just blends into a blur of particles that mean nothing to me.
“He can’t keep us apart again; I won’t let him.” I lick Aaron’s lower lip, sucking it into my mouth as he groans and leans his head briefly against the already fogged-up windows.
“Fuck, I can’t wait. I need to be inside you,” Aaron pants, and I nod yet again, sitting up and crawling from his lap on all fours the way he seems to want. “Bare, Bernadette. This time, no condom.”
“No condom,” I agree, breathless, my lips nearly touching the window’s glass. I’m thankful for the spotty and inconsistent lighting of South Prescott, the clouds over the moon, and the condensation of our own breath. We should be fairly invisible in here. “No need.”
I’ve been taking the birth control pills that Oscar gave me, so for once, I’m actually not being an irresponsible twat. Even if I weren’t, I’d probably do it anyway, and you know what? I know why, too. Because it was never about babies or responsibility or any of that. I just want to be close to my boys.
“You’re the only queen I would ever serve,” Aaron whispers, leaning over me. I can feel his cock pressing up against the seam in my sweatpants, teasing me. He’s probably getting pre-ejac all over them, but I don’t care. This moment is worth everything to me. “And I never really served a king; I’ve tolerated him. For you.” Aaron reaches around to undo the tie on the front of the pants, kissing my ear and grinding against me. His right hand slides under my shirt and up my bare belly, finding my breast and squeezing it with great tenderness. Each press of his fingertips into my skin scalds me, stealing away any resistance or dignity I had left.
“You’re supposed to be the nice one,” I groan as he kneads my flesh, the slow undulations of his hips driving me insane. “Stop teasing me.”
Aaron chuckles, and the feel of his breath stirring my hair makes me squirm even more.
“What we do in the bedroom together has nothing to do with nice, Bernie.” Aaron reaches up and grabs my waistband, yanking the sweats over my ass and exposing my wet heat. I can’t exactly spread my legs because of them. Doesn’t matter, I guess, since the bench seat we’re on is only so wide.
There isn’t a lot of room in there, so Aaron and I are pressed up nice and close, jammed between the two back doors so he has plenty to push off, and I have plenty to push up against. There’s going to be a lot of friction in here soon.
A hard knock on the window makes Aaron growl in frustration, and my heart leaps with fear in thinking that it’s Vic. If they come head-to-head in a clash, what am I going to do? I can’t choose between them; it’s impossible.
“Shakes and food are on the roof, fucking horny ass kids,” the waitress grumbles, and I can hear the whir of her skates as she moves away. Like I said, South Prescott, raunchy shit, terrible people, we know, we know.
My fingers splay out against the glass as I sigh in relief, but it’s a short-lived expression because I can feel the heat of Aaron’s cock rubbing against me. He repositions himself slightly and then drives all the way into me, making me bite my lip as overwhelming sensation crashes through me.
My legs are squeezed so tightly together, and Aaron’s so damn big, I end up with my face pressed to the glass because I just don’t have the energy or willpower to hold myself up anymore. What is it about Aaron that makes me want to submit?
It’s because you know he loves you enough to always pull back, if you need it. That’s why. You can let go with him; you forget worrying about literally anything.
Aaron cracks a hand against my ass and then squeezes the flesh with his hot fingers. On his arm, he bears a tattoo with my name, a fact that I can’t stop thinking about as he drives me into me hard and fast. The car creaks with our movements, helping to hide the wet sound of our bodies joining together.
“So fucking pretty, Bernie,” he purrs, sliding his hand up and under my shirt again. He pinches my nipple, tweaking it and yanking on it until I cry out in ecstasy. “So pretty.” Aaron pulls back slightly and then cracks my ass with his hand again; he groans as my body clenches around his. “Do you like getting spanked?” he asks me, slowing his movements, so he can lean forward and put his palm on the window, right over the top of mine. With his other hand, he kneads my breast again. “Do you, Bernie?”
