Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High 4)

“Don’t play,” he whispers, his fingertips sliding along my skin, watching me closely.

“I’m not the one playing,” I tell him. “Not sure how clear I can be, Cap, but I don’t want anyone else.”

“Get up,” he says.

My head pulls back. “Why?”

“Because I said. Get. Up.” The tone in which he gives his quiet command causes a hot ache to form in my throat.

I tap my fingers along the tabletop to delay, and then push to my feet, spinning to face him. I’m tugged into his lap.

His arms instantly come under mine, palms flattening on the inside of my thighs and nudging them the slightest bit open.

He kicks a leg out, settling in, and goes right back to talking with Maddoc at our sides.

I chance a look at Raven and the others, but they don’t acknowledge his move in any way. Raven continues to lean over Royce’s shoulder, pointing at the screen of his phone while he laughs, and Maddoc is focused on Captain.

“Breathe,” Captain whispers in my ear, leaving his mouth there to tickle against my skin.

My ass cheeks clench against him, and he squeezes my thighs in warning, but an accidental chuckle leaves me and his head jerks toward me again.

I pull my shoulder in, meeting his eyes over it.

“Something funny?” he rasps.

I shift, swinging my legs over so my side is against his chest now.

That gets Royce and Raven’s attention.

“No, Cap. Nothing’s funny, but if you’re gonna play show and tell and put me on your lap, I’m gonna take full advantage of it,” I say as I run my palm up his chest, knowing he won’t stop me, that he can’t stop me now that he’s frolicking in public.

For the public.

It’s a show, I know that.

He wants to make sure I’m watched, tracked and trailed by the many eyes of Brayshaw, and for that to happen with precision he has to show the need for it.

Captain, being a guy of few words, of course has chosen the visual.

He might have deemed me a Bray Girl, but for everyone to believe it, action has to follow.

I know him though, and that’s far from the only reason I’m sitting where I am.

He’s caving, and I’m so ready for it.

He glares, but all that drives it is heat. “Be smart, Beauty.”

I ignore him, hiding my grin as I tuck my face beside his. “Did you wash your face before you went to bed the other night, Cap?” I whisper, and this time, it’s he who clenches against me, his dick flexing along with his hands on my thighs. “Or did you roll over through the night, waking to taste me all over again… over and over… again?”

“Stop,” he hisses.

Damn, that strain in his voice...

My grin spreads. “Give me your answer, and I’ll tell you how I spent those last few hours that night, but so you know, the answer isn’t sleeping...”

His fingers wrap around my bicep and he tugs me back, a wild eagerness in his eyes as they move between mine. Around us, his brothers fight their laughter, only to cough when he gives them hardened glares.

They come back to mine a full shade of deeper blue.

He studies me a moment, frown deepening by the second. “Touch yourself again, Beauty. I dare you.”

“And if I do.”

“You won’t. You need something, say it.”

“I need something.” I raise a brow.

Surprise has him falling back.

And then he jumps from his seat, and once again I’m hanging half over his shoulder, hiding my face as I’m carried from the cafeteria on the shoulder of the gentle giant.

Captain doesn’t stop until we’ve reached the gym. He throws open the door and charges right inside, shouting, “out” to the few inside playing basketball during lunch.

They drop the ball on sight, grab their bags and go, not one batting a lash or even giving a questioning glance at the dude with a chick hanging across his body.

In the next second, I’m flipped into his arms.

I yelp, grabbing on but just as quick, I’m laid to the freezing cold gym floor. I gasp, and Captain’s hand quickly comes up to catch it.

He glares, his eyes darkening. “No sound.”

I lick his fingers and he jerks away, but he can’t keep the groan in.

He starts unbuttoning my jeans and my eyes shoot wide, flying around the room.

“Anyone could walk in.”

He freezes, his wild eyes coming back to mine. “Are you telling me to stop?”

I open my mouth, my heart pounding like crazy in my chest. I shake my head. “Never.”

His jaw clenches, a heavy crease forming along his forehead.

Suddenly my pants are at my knees and my hand flies down to hold my shirt in place.

He tenses, but only for a moment before his finger slides along the seam of my underwear.

“You touched yourself when I left, thought of me,” he rasps, slipping the tip of his ring finger through the thin cotton. “Tell me what you did.”