He’s got a tight grip on my nipple, as his palm massages my breast, the other smashed tight under his forearm.
The hand between my legs slaps against my inner thigh and I jolt, widening my legs for him, just as he requested without a word. His fingers slide down the crease of my sex until they’re gliding around himself and me, before sliding back up to my clit. My body starts to shake. He does it again, and again and then pushes on my clit, pulling both of us back until his back hits the support of the chair, mine against him. My pussy is in the air, his hand covering it and together we roll and grind and fuck, deep and bare and son of a bitch.
My legs start to quiver, my moans getting louder and louder.
He lets it happen, doesn’t fight to keep me quiet and soon his match mine.
We’re loud and carnal and covered in sweat.
His dick starts throbbing inside me, so I flex around him and he growls in my ear, biting it as he does.
My toes curl against his feet and his thighs lock under me and together, we come, hard and long and satisfying.
It’s not until our breathing slows that I realize I gave Maddoc exactly what he wanted tonight.
If I’m not careful, he might take more.
I squash the little voice that tells me he already has.
A raspy ass groan has my eyes peeling open. I push my hair from my face to find Maddoc burying his head in the pillow. When he looks up, he tosses the blankets over his head.
“You need to start remembering to close the fucking curtains. It’s too damn bright in here every morning.”
“That’s easily fixed.”
“Yeah, by closing your curtains.”
“Or ... by sleeping in your own bed,” I joke.
He jerks the blanket from his face, frowning.
I laugh lightly, looking to my window.
I never had a window that faced the sun. I mean, the first window I really had was the one at the Bray house, but it faced the opposite side, so the sun didn’t shine through it like this one.
“Hey.” Maddoc’s unexpected gentle tone has me jerking to look at him. His features match his voice and my stomach starts to turn. “You like the sun?”
I shrug, and he gives me a pointed look that has me grinning.
“Yes, big man, I do.” I look away and continue. “Our trailer had a couple windows, but I wasn’t allowed to move the sheets to let light in.” I frown thinking about it. “Not even when the electric was out.”
“Why not?”
“Plenty of reasons. She didn’t want people to see inside, didn’t like the sun in her face when she was coming down, slept through the day to work through the night. The list goes on and on.”
“So you were locked inside a small, dark space most of the time. How’s that work for someone scared of the dark?”
I lick my lips. “It doesn’t. I spent as minimal time home as possible. Once I got older, I tried to only be home when she was gone, but she was so unpredictable I never knew for sure. She’d work from home for a couple weeks then take off for one, come home and sleep for days at a time, then start over. But I mean, it was all normal to me, so it didn’t seem as fucked up as it sounds now.”
He stays quiet.
“I know nothing about her life before me other than her dad died from hepatitis from using dirty needles – it’s why she’s always stayed away from injecting.”
“And her mom?”
“A different type of lethal drug combination.”
“Damn.”
“Sounds crazy, but” – I think about the younger kids in my trailer park and the things they see, parents they live with and the vices they can’t escape – “others have it worse.”
“And you punched that girl, ready to go right back. You can’t prefer that over this place.”
“I know that place. I ran through those streets at night. Not without danger, but at least I know my role. I don’t have to think to function there, everything is second nature. I’m not saying it’s where I belong, but ... at least I know what to expect if I decide to go back.”
I look over at Maddoc.
He stares for a few seconds and I know he wants to argue, maybe even say I belong thinking I need soothing or something when I don’t, but he accepts it for what it is and nods instead.
I stretch against the mattress and flip over on my stomach, facing him.
I change the subject.
“Were you ever gonna admit you sleep better in this bed than yours?”
He groans and pulls me half on top of him, my torso laying sideways across his naked chest. “No. I wasn’t. My brothers have big mouths.”
“And big dicks!” Royce shouts from the hall.
Maddoc reaches over, picking up his water bottle from the nightstand and chucks it at the door. “Quit fucking listening by the door!”
“I was doing no such thing!” Royce shouts from the other side. “I was simply walking by and heard you talking.”
“Keep walking, Royce!” I shout and I hear his feet carry him away.
Maddoc shifts his frown to me. “Why’s he listen to you?”
“’Cause.” I grin, running my fingertip across his pec lines. “He likes an authoritative woman.”
Maddoc glares, making me laugh.
“We need to get up. You have practice and I need to go to the store.”
He lets me go, but I feel his questioning eyes on me as I stand and pull out a pair of jeans from the drawer, slipping them on. I pull a hoodie over my tank top and put my hair up into a ponytail, smoothing the top with my hands before dropping onto the mattress to put shoes on.
I stand and turn to Maddoc, finding him still staring.
“What?”
His eyes travel over me with unnerving thoroughness, and a small smile pulls at his lips. “Just like that, huh?”
When I tilt my head in question, he makes his way to me. Slipping his hands up the back of my shirt, he pulls me to him.
“You just stand, throw some shit on, run your fingers through your hair and come out looking like a fucking wet dream?”
I pop a brow. “Thanks?”
His eyes bounce between mine before he takes his time leaning down and catches my lips between his. He nips, then kisses me with a slow, obsessive rhythm.
“Let’s go, fuckers!” Royce shouts from down the hall and Maddoc pulls back.
“I’ll meet you downstairs.” He goes to walk out but pauses in the doorway. “Why can’t you wait until we’re done at practice and we’ll take you to the store?”
“That question sounds a lot like suspicion.”
He shrugs a shoulder, unapologetic at his inability to trust.
I appreciate it. It lets me know we’re still in safe territory when it’s starting to feel a little more than risky.
“Come to practice. We’ll stop after.”
“I guess I can wait.” I meet him in the doorway.
He grabs the ends of my hair, running his fingers through the colored tips of my ponytail.
And like a real dumb girl, I smile when he smirks and walks away.
Stupid.
I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to watching these boys play.
It’s pure heart and natural ability. They’re born athletes, but it’s their dedication to the sport that makes them shine above the others.
Every shift of their feet counts, every twist of their body is purposeful.
Everyone feels it, the passion behind the grind seeping from each of them.
It’s the end of practice and the last few shots are being taken in the mock game the key players have going, and the others around stop mid drills to watch Maddoc fly down the court like he’s running freely, as if he doesn’t even have to focus on the ball that’s effortlessly and consistently bouncing against the old gravel. One of his teammates attempt to guard, but Maddoc spins and overheads the ball to Captain who wastes not a second to shoot, purposely a little to the left as the defender pushes off from the right, and R
oyce hops up for the assist.
Swish.
Everyone claps and the team starts doing their little wolf calls as they form a tight circle to call break.
I grin and push to my feet, heading back for the parking lot to wait while they have their end of practice pep talk.
I lean against the bumper and close my eyes for a minute, letting the sun beat down on my face. It’s cold, being December, but the sun is out and soon it’ll be gone. I can’t help but feel like all this will be too.
A car door slams and my eyes pop open to find Leo standing there, glaring my way.
“I won’t let you cause problems for them.”
“For them, or for you?” I tilt my head considering him. “I honestly can’t tell what your angle is, Leo. I’m not even sure you’re a bad guy, to be honest. But let me tell you what I do know. You’re attempting to manipulate your ‘friends,’ and they won’t be thanking you for it in the end. If you have legit concerns about me, go straight to the guys and make them listen to what you have to say. Be honest. Don’t be sneaky. You know as well as I do, they won’t put up with that.”
He grins with his teeth together. “Fuck you.”
“You’re trying, but in the end the only one you’ll be fucking is yourself.”
He glares hard before dropping his stare to the ground and moving for the driver’s seat, and imagine that, Maddoc steps up in the next second.
He looks from where the car Leo’s sitting in, to me expectantly.
“He’s got a problem with me.”
“It’s called blue balls, RaeRae,” Royce teases, stepping around Maddoc and ushers me out of the way so he can lift the hatch and put his shit inside. “Trust me, I know how they feel at the hands of you.”
“Shut the fuck up, man,” Maddoc snaps and shoves his laughing brother away, refocusing on me. “What’d he say?”
I roll my eyes. “Not that it’s a big deal, but he said he won’t let me fuck shit up for you guys.”
“The fuck’s he think he can do about it if you did?”
“Guess you’ll have to ask him.”
I step around Maddoc and climb inside the SUV and close my eyes.
Leo’s trippin’ if he thinks I’m more than the girl giving these boys the female presence they so desperately crave.
Someone for Captain to care for, someone for Royce to worry about, someone for Maddoc to protect.
Eventually, maybe this week, maybe next year, one of them will meet a person who matters, and she’ll come in to take over for me, not that I’ll be here that long. But either way, she’ll belong like I never could.
The fact of the matter is if I never went home, my mother would be fine. If I left tomorrow, the boys would be fine. If I never came back, Maddoc ... he’d be fine.
A nasty little ache forms in my chest as I’m slammed with realization, it climbs up my throat, trying to choke me with my own self-honesty.
They’d all be fine ... but I wouldn’t.
“Hurry up,” Maddoc tells me as Captain puts the SUV in park.
Once in the department store and grabbing my necessities, I take a couple minutes to go through the five-dollar bin of DVDs. I find one I’ve heard of but never seen and head for the munchies aisle, spotting Bass.
“Hey.” I walk toward him, checking out his stash of snacks he’s got in his hands, choosing Bottle Caps and caramel corn for me.
He does a double take and then focuses back on the candy boxes stacked in front of him. The way his features go rigid has me squaring my shoulders.
“Something on your mind, Bishop?”
With a low curse, he turns toward me. The reserved look in his eye has me masking my unease.
“Look, I decided not to say shit after since you were shacking up with the Brays, but I think you should still know.”
“Know what?”
He opens his mouth, but promptly closes it and dips his head to whisper, “Come to the warehouses tonight. Don’t put it off.”
“What—”
An arm snakes around my middle and I’m jolted back.
I don’t have to look to know who it belongs to.
Maddoc’s body starts vibrating against me the longer we stand there, so I lift my hand and cup the back of his neck, forcing his eyes to mine.
His jaw clenches, his features tightening even more as he glares. I push up while pulling his face down and skim my lips over his. His hold though only grows tighter, more possessive.
“Move on, Bishop,” Maddoc tells Bass, his voice jarringly calm.
“Later, Raven.” Bass walks away without acknowledging Maddoc.
I snag a second box of Bottle Caps and make a move for the registers but Maddoc spins me around to face him.
“You really gonna stand there and make me ask, Raven?” He frowns. “Why is he always near you? Why do you always have to fucking stop and talk to him?”
I take a deep breath, eyeing him, agitation taking over impulsion. “Careful, big man. That sounds a lot like jealousy.”
“I don’t need to be jealous, you’re already mine.”
“Yet here you are, working yourself up over nothing.”
“You better hope so or I’ll make sure shit’s fucked for him. No more fight money, no more Bray house. I’ll even make sure no small-time bookies around here will take his sorry ass in if he so much as taps you on the shoulder.” He steps back.
I don’t say anything, but slide past him and head for the line, his shadow taking over mine.
If I address what he said it’ll lead to me telling him to fuck off and then I’ll really have no chance of getting to Bass to hear what he has to say.
Maddoc told me not to fight, but he never said anything about going to watch other people fight.
I slip through the cut-out part of the metal fence at the farthest end of the rusted buildings and slowly make my way around, following the sound of music and shouting.
A few people recognize me from my couple fights out here and as I squeeze through the crowd, I get a few waves, couple head nods – respect, self-earned.
I find Bass toward the back, where the fighters drop their shit and collect payment at the end of their fights. He’s cashing someone out when his eyes lift and he spots me.
He motions for me to wait, so I hop up on the crate closest to me and turn to watch the next two on tonight’s card getting ready.
Looking from one to the next, the common eye leads you to believe the pick for winner is a no-brainer, but to anyone who knows a damn thing about fighting beyond a good swing would know, these two are more equal than they appear at first glance.
The ignorant choice would be the six-foot monster with roadmaps for arms, not the one warming up across from him with a lean torso and tight muscles, not to mention a good four inches shorter.
But the giant one, he’s bouncing his shoulders, ducking his head, and swinging at the air, showing me he’s betting on a solid hit to take the other guy down, while his opponent shifts on his feet, practicing bobbing and weaving around, working on combo punches.
He’s quicker, more likely has better cardio than his opponent. He’s focused, sees and hears nothing around him, while the guy he’s bound to beat the shit out of tonight is laughing and high fiving the people who are starting to form the large circle as it grows closer to go time.
Bass hops up beside me.
“Bets still open?” I keep my eyes on the fighters.
He looks at his watch. “Two minutes.”
“Put me down for five.” I glance his way and he tilts his head.
“I don’t—” He starts to deny me, but I cut him off.
“Is my money not good, here?”
He glares a minute, then asks, “On the big guy?”
I level him with a blank stare, and he laughs, bumping my shoulder, taking the money I hand over.
“Bunch of fools out tonight.” He shakes his head, looking around. “More than half these fuckers bet against your guy.”
; I laugh lightly. “Figured so.”
The crowd is told to shut the fuck up by the new dude on the megaphone and the rules are laid out, but I tune him out and turn toward Bass.
“So, what’s up, what was with the secret shit earlier?”
He eyes me. “You with Maddoc?”
I rub my lips together at his question, considering what answer to give him, not that I owe him one at all. I go with the easiest answer.
“Yeah.”
He nods, having no choice but to accept my response. “All right, I can’t say for sure, because it hasn’t hit my boys’ hands yet, but word is there’s a video of you coming. And not just in the it’s almost here way, Rae.”
Confusion has my forehead wrinkling in thought. The sound of the crowd going wild pulls my attention and I glance to the center of the makeshift ring. My guy’s dominating.
“Rae.”
I shake my head and look up at Bass. “A sex tape?”
“Yup.”
“How do you know it’s me?”
“Said it was my new girl, long black hair, fucked shit up out here and disappeared.” He lifts his hands as if to say, ‘who the fuck else what they mean.’
Fuck.
A video of me is coming ... is in almost here and ... coming.
“Okay...” I trail off. “If there was one, why would anyone care to wait to show it off?”
“You’re not the only one in the video. This isn’t some random fucking scene of you handling yourself. I asked if you were with Maddoc. Supposedly, this video tells a different story. It’s you with the Brayshaws, all three of them.”
Fuuuuck.
I bury my face in my hands and Bass lets out a low whistle.
“So it could exist?”
“It’s not what it sounds like ... exactly.” That’s when it hits.
Shit!
I rush down and right when I do the crowd freaks out, my bet’s hand is raised as he’s announced winner.
I turn back to Bishop and hold out my hand.
Concern lines his brows as he slaps a grand in my palm.
“Look,” I start. “If the video’s real, it’s more than what you’re hearing. It can’t be seen.”
“Why not?” He narrows his eyes, way too fucking smart to even consider this is about embarrassment.
Boys of Brayshaw High Page 34