Arm Candy Warrior: A Dark High School Romance (The Heights Crew Book 2)

by E. M. Moore

  “Apologize to her that your meaty fucking paws ever touched her.”

  “I’m sorry,” Oscar says, eyes glued to the floor.

  Johnny gets down to eye level with him. “To her fucking face, Drego!”

  Oscar meets my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from making a reaction. “I’m sorry I touched you, Kyla,” Oscar says. The light recedes from his eyes, shadows replacing every last dark corner. “It won’t happen again.”

  I swallow and nod, then look at Johnny to see if that’s going to be enough for him. I hope to God it is because Oscar can’t take another kick. He probably already has broken ribs, and his last fucking football game is this weekend. My eyes well with tears, but I hold them back. This all just got so fucked up.

  Johnny stomps toward the door, whipping it open. I can’t even meet Oscar’s eyes. Not that I have that much time anyway because Johnny comes back within thirty seconds, Magnum in tow. “Now, I fucking said no one else in her room but me. How the fuck did Drego make it past you?”

  Magnum stands tall. “They were discussing school. It didn’t pose a threat to me.”

  “I said no one else, and I fucking meant it.”

  “It won’t happen again,” Magnum says simply.

  He doesn’t look at Oscar nor I, but tension wafts off him. The guard I got in trouble last time was severely punished. If something happens to Magnum on top of Oscar getting his ass kicked, I don’t know what I’ll do.

  We pushed the boundaries, that much is true. Now we’re suffering the consequences.

  “Get Drego out of my sight before I fucking drop him.”

  I hiss in a breath, but Mag walking toward Oscar covers it up. If the Crew drops Oscar, he’ll be fucked again. He’ll be in so much trouble. He’ll have to fucking leave. He’ll have to run so far away they won’t ever find him.

  Magnum helps Oscar to his feet who hisses in a breath as he attempts to stand tall. He hobbles out of the room and as soon as they’re clear, Johnny slams the door shut. He turns devil-filled eyes on me. A whole tidal wave of apprehension slams into me. He’s got that look in his eye that reminds me of the Johnny before. I try to keep a level head, but I also set my jaw. He’s not going to do the same thing to me that he did to Oscar. No fucking way. I already feel like shit that I couldn’t intervene on Oscar’s behalf, but if he thinks he’s going to give me a beating while I take it like Oscar, he’s got another thing coming.

  I step back as he approaches me, and Johnny growls. “Don’t run from me.”

  “You look mad,” I say, throwing out the obvious.

  His face morphs briefly, enough for me to see the guy underneath I hope will come out permanently. “I’m not going to fucking hurt you.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” I say dryly.

  Johnny’s chin sets. “That’s not fair. Everyone knows the rules. Oscar broke them.”

  “We were just talking,” I say. In a way, I hope I can get Johnny to come around to the idea that I can have friends. Or more, actually. That would be ideal. At this stage, I don’t want to give any of them up. Brawler and Oscar have a truce already. Johnny is practically a caveman with his territory, but — Maybe it doesn’t matter. “Actually, we had something we wanted to discuss with you until you went off the deep end.”

  “Went off the deep end?” Johnny quirks a brow at me. He grabs my wrist and pulls me to him. “I think I’ve made it abundantly clear that I’ll do all that and more for you, Kyla. I know you don’t want me to claim you, but you’re too innocent around these vultures here in the Heights. I have to claim you, and I have to show them who’s boss, so they can’t get to you.”

  I wiggle out of his hold. He’d stuck up for me before with the guy at the racetrack. I hadn’t minded that so much because I didn’t know that guy, but this is Oscar. My fucking Oscar. “Oscar’s a good guy,” I say. “You know that. That’s why you trust me with him. I’m already isolated so much.”

  “You like him?” Johnny’s voice is a cross between a threat and disbelief.

  “As a friend,” I say. “Is that so bad?”

  “You can have girl friends,” he says, his tone broking no further argument.

  But that’s not me. “This jealous, possessive routine is getting old,” I tell him, pushing my luck. I’m hoping to show him that this is all so stupid, but I guess to do that, I have to show him that he’s the only one I want. It’s a must if I want to save Oscar or Brawler, or hell, even Magnum. Anyone else and I could give two shits about. Johnny opens his mouth to say something, but I place my hand there. Then I take his hand and pull him to the couch. I push him until he’s sitting, then I straddle his legs, placing my arms around his neck. “Wasn’t it me that was begging you to fuck me the other day?” I pin his hands above his head. “It was me panting for it. Taut and ready. Do you think I give a fuck about Oscar?”

  God forgive me for this lie, but it’s necessary right now.

  Johnny tries to free his hands, but I hold on tighter. “Nuh-uh. You’re a naughty boy.”

  “How’s that?” he asks, voice cracking.

  “You come home after being gone for days, and instead of just wrapping me up, placing your sexy as fuck lips on me, you decide you want to get in a fistfight.”

  I drag my finger over his lips.

  “A one-sided fistfight, I might add,” I say, reminding him that Oscar didn’t even fight back. He took it like the good little soldier boy he’s supposed to be. I lean over to brush my chest against his. I’m trying to work on him, but that doesn’t mean I’m also not working myself up too. They’re called hormones, and they peak when Johnny’s around. There’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  “Did that turn you on?” he breathes.

  I shake my head, and he pouts. “What would’ve turned me on is if you’d picked me up, carried me into the room, and showed me how much you missed me.”

  “I did miss you,” he says, finally freeing one hand despite my attempts to try to keep it locked up. He brings it to my hip, splaying it over the bare skin between my halter and leather pants. “I hurried home because I missed you. I’ve been waiting.”

  “And you got antsy and started making up reasons in your head for why I wasn’t here,” I say. “Whereas, if you had just called me, I would’ve made Magnum bring me straight here to see you.”

  “I was trying to surprise you.”

  “I would’ve liked that,” I tell him, nudging his nose with my own in a playful gesture. “But I was at Candy’s helping your business like a good little girlfriend.”

  He traces his fingers over my stomach and then to the apex of my leather pants. He presses his thumb down there, and I moan. “I want to bury my head here,” he says, tweaking my clit right through the thick fabric. “To thank you.”

  I nip at his lower lip. “Someday soon,” I tell him. I crack a smile. “Now it’s that time to back away before I get myself in trouble.”

  He groans as I move back but grabs my ankle as I move to the other side of the couch, stopping my retreat. “Take your clothes off, Kyla.”

  My heart hiccups.

  “I’m so sick of jerking myself off in the shower thinking of you, I’m going to watch you play with yourself. Imagine it’s me.” He arches his hips up into his hand. The bulge in his pants is unmistakable. I completely downplayed the situation. I’d be giving myself more props except for the fact that I’m turned on too.

  I lower the zipper at my hip and shimmy out of my stiff leather pants.

  “Your panties are damp,” he groans, getting restless on the couch. He puts his back against the arm, facing me, so he can get a full-on view.

  “Is it that obvious?” I breathe.

  He reaches his hand under his waistband and gives himself one long stroke.

  I watch as he does it, and more juices flood my panties. Unclasping the back of my halter-top, I pull it off. Johnny’s hips jerk up. “You’re not wearing a bra. Fuck.”

  I sit there in my panties, watching Joh
nny run his hand down the length of his cock in the inside of his pants, biting my lower lip. “Can I see you?”

  He fumbles with his zipper only because he’s trying to take it down quickly. He shoves his pants and boxers down and his cock springs free. I hook my thumbs around my panties and move them over my knees, shucking them to the side.

  “Spread those knees, baby,” Johnny orders. “Pretend it’s me.”

  I do as he says, giving him ample view as I reach my hand to my clit, swirling the pad of my finger there. I buck, biting down on my lip.

  “No, no,” he says. “Let out those beautiful sounds. I want to hear everything.”

  I do as he asks, releasing my lower lip, watching as he strokes his hard cock in movements that match mine.

  “Pretend I’m licking that slick pussy.”

  “Ohh,” I moan, thrusting my hips in the air and swirling over my clit faster. I’ve always needed clitoral stimulation to come. It’s just my body, and from personal exploration, I know it won’t take too long to throw myself overboard by concentrating here. “I want you,” I tell him, locking eyes briefly before I return to watching him pleasure himself. His movements become more hurried too. “Fuck, Johnny.”

  “Do I feel good?” he asks, eyes laser focused on my wet folds.

  My toes curl into the leather. I imagine him forgetting everything and just coming over, entering me bareback. “Yes,” I breathe, throwing my head back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes, it feels good.”

  His breathing quickens. I peek at him. I’ve never watched a guy jerk off before and it’s hot as fuck. Especially because it’s Johnny losing all his inhibitions. Letting his guard down for once. Just living in the moment. I’ve no doubt he’s an amazing lover.

  I reach with my other hand to tweak my nipple and let out a low cry.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.”

  I work myself faster. My orgasm is within reach, coming up fast. “Johnny, I’m going to,” I warn him.

  “Yes, come on me, baby.”

  It hits, and I’m suspended in air for a moment. Johnny’s gaze trained on my fingers makes the heights of my pleasure that much more. I cry out. “Yes!” My fingers still swirl, urging every last wave I have in me to hit. Before mine’s even finished, Johnny opens his mouth. The noises he releases are so fucking hot that my core still throbs. Rivulets of cum squirt onto his shirt.

  We stare at one another. I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do with Johnny Rocket, but he’s imprinted on me now. If I lose him, whether it’s to him being a terrible guy or to me being a terrible person, I’ll be heartbroken.

  31

  It’s Johnny who remembers I wanted to discuss something with him. So later that night, I tell him everything we saw. Then, I back it up with the pictures and the audio of us in the car. I tell him all of us were trying to help the Crew until I think he officially feels like shit for punching Oscar. Okay, maybe only a little like shit. He’s definitely not going to be knocking Oscar’s door down to apologize but it’s a start.

  I keep Oscar’s mom out of it because I can’t tell him we were at the costume party, but I do tell him we were so concerned that they were fucking over the Crew that Oscar broke into Dunnegan’s office to steal some files because of his loyalty to Johnny, not to Dunnegan.

  “Who has the files now?”

  “Oscar,” I tell him. “I think. Unless he gave them to Magnum.”

  I watch him carefully, and it’s apparent he knows nothing about what’s going down at Candy’s. He can barely stomach when I tell him that the girl—without using her name—was obviously drugged up.

  Johnny pulls me closer as we lie together in bed. “I don’t want you going anywhere near Candy’s until I get this straightened out. If they did that to you, I’d burn the fucking world down.”

  “If your dad doesn’t know about this, he’s got to stop them.”

  Johnny pierces me with a look. “There’s no way my dad knows about this.”

  I swallow. I saw the man fucking kill someone by shooting them pointblank in the face, but Johnny never saw that the way I did. Like his father, he believed it needed to happen. What if his dad thinks this needs to happen? What then? Will he try to talk Johnny to his side?

  I just have to pray that Big Daddy K’s sick ways don’t go that fucking far. Not that murdering innocent people is any better.

  Suffice it to say, I don’t have as much confidence in his father as Johnny does.

  “I can’t believe you did all that for me,” Johnny says.

  I look away. It wasn’t technically all for him. It was for the victims, and it was for myself, but yeah, as fucked up as it is, it was Johnny who I told first, not the police. But I guess that’s normal behavior in the Heights even if it is far from how I grew up to think. Except, I don’t have the best faith in the police myself. They couldn’t take Big Daddy K down even though they knew he was the one who killed my parents, so why would they be able to take care of this? The Crew has the reach to make this right. Let’s just hope they fucking do.

  “I said it before. I want to be your partner, Johnny.”

  “You’re definitely not Trophy Wife material.”

  “Unless that’s me winning fighting trophies and bringing them home for our mantle, that’s a no.”

  “I like having a partner,” he admits. “A beautiful soldier.” I know he likes that part. The shit he told me about how he grew up, whether he realizes it or not, is fucked up. Subconsciously, he needs me to be by his side, whether he’ll actually admit it to himself or not.

  “You know I want to be here for you,” I tell him. “I really wish you wouldn’t beat up my friends though.”

  Johnny glares at me. I probably shouldn’t be bringing this up so soon, but it needs to be done. I need to open his heart to them. “What’s done is done.”

  I turn his face back to mine after he looks away. “Just imagine not only having me, but others you can count on no matter what happens.”

  “That’s what my dad’s for,” he says.

  A trickle of unease climbs up my throat. I can still work on him, but as I suspected, it’s going to take a lot to get him to see the kind of person his dad truly is. If I lost Johnny to him, I’d be devastated. I want to save all of these guys, and it’s possible Johnny is the one worth saving the most. I can’t stand that he’s basically been brainwashed his whole life into being a terrible person.

  I smile at him, then lay my head on his chest. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  He holds me to him, squeezing me to his side. “You have no idea.”

  My eyes dart open at the change in his voice. “Is everything alright?”

  He kisses the top of my head. “Nothing for you to concern yourself with.”

  I want to protest, but I’m exhausted and worried and I’ve already pushed Johnny far enough today. His father has had twenty-plus years with him. I’ve only had a couple months. Turning him won’t be an easy task, but I’m also not going to give up.

  The dinner that we were supposed to have on Wednesday has been moved to today. Apparently, there are now fewer people attending since the date’s been changed. When I wake in the morning, Johnny’s already gone, but it’s the text he sends me later that alerts me to the fact that there’s still a dinner. I spend the rest of my day in my apartment, climbing up the walls and wondering what’s happening over in Big Daddy K’s suite. Is he telling K what the guys and I found out? Did he already know? Is he as furious as he should be? I’m almost giving myself an ulcer and wish I could be there to know what’s fucking happening.

  In the same token, I’m also not a fan of spending time in Big Daddy K’s presence. Which, I know I’ll have to get over. Keep your enemies close. I mean, that’s like the moral of every gangster movie. Hundreds of people can’t have gotten it wrong.

  I talk to Oscar on the phone. He’s beat up, and even though I tell him it’s all my fault, he assures me it isn’t. He tells me we all got lazy and that we n
eed to be more careful. When I ask him about football, he shuts down. He didn’t go to the hospital like he should’ve, and when I ask him about it, he says, “How will I pay for that, Kyla?” I told him I’d give him the money, but he doesn’t want to hear it. He knows what I have that money saved up for, so I’m not surprised. In the end, it’s more about getting all of us out of here than what’s happening right this moment.

  He ends the call by saying Johnny is on the other line, which only spikes my anxiety. He’s probably calling about the file he stole from Dunnegan’s office, which means they already know what we found out.

  I really fucking hate being left in the dark.

  An hour later, after I’m trying to drown myself in Netflix, there’s a knock on the door. I practically skip to it, hoping it’s someone who’s going to tell me something. I yank the door open to find Magnum standing there. “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey.” He steps forward, and I let him in. He looks the same as he always does. The same as when he picked Oscar off the floor last night. The same when he’s driving me places. The only time his guard comes down is when we’re completely alone. “You’re attending the dinner as planned,” Magnum says.

  “Okay…” I thought I was, so I don’t know why he had to come over to tell me.

  His jaw hardens. “I’m sorry about last night. Have you heard from Oscar?”

  “I talked to him,” I say, realizing that maybe what he just said was his excuse to come over. “He’s okay. Still in pain though.”

  “He’ll be at the dinner, too, so—” He gives me a warning look. “—behave yourself.”

  I wish I could act affronted at that, but I can’t. Having Oscar come into my apartment last night was fucking dumb. We should’ve finished talking in the car and then he could have been on his merry way instead of injured during the most important time of the year for him.

  Magnum looks me up and down, but eventually concentrates on my face.

  “What?”