Page 122 of Fuckboy Psychos (Scarlett Force 1)
“I’m gonna come, Widow,” I breathe out, my knees getting weak as the pleasure takes over me, turning my bones to jelly. “Adrian.” His real name explodes out of me along with my orgasm and I sag forward, his huge body falling into mine, pinning me in place as I shudder and shake, biting my lower lip so hard that I can taste the hot copper of my own blood.
That does it for him in a way that—even though I wish it wouldn’t—reminds me of Aspen and how he blew his load when I called out the name Ash.
Widow growls against my ear, giving me goose bumps, and then he’s slamming into me as if we’re actually fucking. When his hands tighten painfully on my tits, and he lets out this almost frustrated snarl, I know what’s happening.
He’s coming in his own pants, turning our ‘dry humping’ into something very, very wet.
He releases me suddenly and stumbles back, slamming into the bookshelf on my left. I whip around, my own body sagging into the endcap shelf, and I watch him staring down at his cock like it’s the enemy. There’s just a bit of a wet spot on the front of his gray joggers.
“Shit,” he grinds out, leaning his head back against the shelf. He swipes both of his hands down his face as I button up my own pants and cardigan, breathing heavily and finding myself immensely grateful that I wore thick-ass cotton panties today to catch all of my own juices or else I might be sporting a wet spot between the thighs.
“What the hell was that?” I whisper, a cold fear snaking through me as I look around, trying to ascertain whether or not I can feel Bohnes’ indelible presence in the library’s many shadows. But no, he’s still not here. I haven’t seen him all day, right? But … did we just break his rules? Was that sex? I mean, it was but it wasn’t. “Oh God.” I look up at Widow and he stares right back at me, breathing heavily but not running.
At least there’s that.
He’s still here.
“Let me talk to Bohnes about this, otherwise …” I trail off, turning my face away and biting at my thumbnail. Not good. This is not good. “You already have one offense on your record at the track—”
“Just don’t tell him,” Widow says, standing up straight and then grabbing a random book off the shelf to hold over his dick. It just so happens to be Cruel Prince by Holly Black. I don’t read much, but I read that one. Cruel prince. Hah. Doesn’t that describe Aspen Kelly in a nutshell? “Who the fuck is he to you anyway?”
“A fuckboy,” I respond automatically, but it feels just a little bit like a lie. “And it’s not about Bohnes and me having a sexual relationship. He knows I fuck other guys.”
“What other guys?” Widow demands, the question like a command. It snaps out between his gritted teeth as he looks me over. “Whoever they are, stop.”
“What?” I breathe out, looking at him like he’s nuts. “Screw you. You come in your pants once and now I’m supposed to, what, obey your every command? Okay, alpha-hole, let me get right on that.” I lift up both hands, palms out, and roll my eyes. “You bet Bohnes that you wouldn’t fuck me for the rest of the year. This is track stuff. I take it seriously, dude. We have to tell Bohnes and let him decide if he thinks you reneged on your promise or not.”
Widow scowls at me and then moves forward, leaning over me and smelling like fresh sweat and sex along with all that other deliciousness that must be his cologne or bodywash or something.
“I’ll race him again. I was off my game last time.” He looks me over and licks his lower lip, leaning in close to whisper to me. “Just wait. Give me some time. Not this weekend but the next. I’m working on my car to bring it up to Prescott standards. I’ll admit: I underestimated this school. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“You’re going to race Bohnes for what, exactly?” I ask as Widow withdraws slightly and exhales heavily.
“You,” he says, and I cannot even believe the level of authority he throws into that one word. Hasn’t he figured it out yet? I don’t obey anyone’s authority but my own. “I’m going to race him for you. And then I’ll race you next. I don’t want you fucking other guys.”
That makes me laugh.
“Why?” I ask, tilting my head to one side, genuinely curious. My body is sparkling and glittering from my orgasm, and I can’t imagine how much better it would’ve been if he’d actually put his dick in my snug, little cunt. “You fancy me or something Widow?”
