Page 41 of Anarchy at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 4)
“Faster, harder,” he orders, and I comply, even as pain ripples through my side and I cry out. The movement of my hips slows just a little as I place a hand over the bandage on my side. This is probably a stupid idea, to fuck Aaron like this, when we’re both injured the way we are.
I hear Oscar make a sound behind me. Something like a laugh, nothing like I’d expect from him.
Sweeping my pink-tinged hair over my shoulder, I glance back and see him watching us.
“What the hell do you want, pervert?” I shoot out, wondering what this tight feeling inside my chest is. Aaron’s body stiffens up beneath me, but he can’t possibly be jealous, not with the way I feel about him. When he was missing, I felt like an Egyptian mummy, my heart stolen and placed in a ceramic jar.
“Maybe I want to fuck you?” Oscar asks, voice so mild that it’s become acidic. Like, nobody is that even and straitlaced. When you hear a sound so perfect, you know you’re looking into the face of either a thespian or a psychopath. “Maybe, after he’s done, I want a turn?”
“Hah.” I work my hips in a slow, delicious roll, making Aaron groan in wicked agony. “Like I’m a pony to ride? Fuck you, Montauk.” I turn back to Aaron, digging my nails into the bare skin of his chest. He’s bruised like crazy, wicked purple marks that look like butterflies in the flickering light of the TV screen. I lean down and put my lips near his ear, hissing a bit in pain as my stitches pull.
Fuck, I hope it scars. Weird thing to want, maybe, but I feel like I need a physical blight that proves this whole crazy life I’m living is real. For the rest of my life, I will wear Kali’s pain on my skin.
“You deserve worse,” she breathes, the specter of a memory crouching on the floor beside the bed. I stare at her for a moment, my blood slow and my brain thick with THC. But even a dead monster can’t hold my attention for long, not when my body is stretched to accommodate Aaron’s massive cock.
I look back over at him and words come tumbling through me, pausing to perch on my lips like crows, like the ones in the pioneer cemetery that took off when Aaron pulled the trigger on Kali.
“Whatever you’re going to say to me,” Aaron growls out, surprising me with the ferocity in his voice. He’s staring up at me like he can read my mind. I almost wonder if he can, the way he’s looking at me right now. “Don’t. Not tonight.”
He leans back into the pillows, and I start to move my hips again, taking the beauty of his hard body in, eating it up like dirty candy, sipping it slow as fine whiskey. The bruises, the cuts, the cast, it could make Aaron look like a bitch for sure. What can a man in a cast do to defend himself or his girl?
But I’ve seen it.
I can sense it.
The predator in me smells the predator in him. Our gazes lock, and I understand exactly where he’s coming from. Don’t tell me anything important tonight. Don’t tell me all the beautiful things that will remind us both why we breathe. Not tonight, when we’re both too busy punishing ourselves.
“No, not tonight,” I agree, tossing my hair back and curving my neck like a swan’s. You know what I was going to say, right? I was going to tell you that you’re a part of me, and I can’t live without you. You knew that. But not tonight. Not tonight.
I close my eyes, my pelvis moving in the most basic rhythm there is. It’s like, the human race was built on this movement, so I’m going to be fucking good at it. That, and I’m not dating five guys to be a vestal virgin. We’re not just a group of high school friends. This is blood in, blood out, fucked-up family and fucking. As much as I truly believe these five men are in love with me, they’re not going to be happy with kisses on the cheek and quiet nights in the missionary position.
The bed dips behind me and long fingers slide across the front of my exposed throat, squeezing just tight enough that I freeze. Shit, I almost forgot about Oscar.
Not many people make that mistake and live to take another breath.
My body stops moving altogether, muscles tense as warm breath teases the side of my throat.
Oscar could kill me right now if he wanted to. Even if Aaron tried to stop him. Or Vic or Hael or Callum. No, if Oscar ever wants me dead, I won’t make it to the next sunrise.
