Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High 4)

My gut twists, but when Victoria’s hand finds mine on the mattress, I take reprieve in her touch, lacing my fingers into hers and lean across her body, locking my lips on Mallory’s, tasting Beauty on her, and a low rumble settles in my chest.

Mallory smirks against my mouth, slowly pulling away.

She leans down, preparing to kiss my girl, but I can’t take it and nudge Mallory’s shoulder.

I want her away.

She doesn’t get angry as I thought she might, but a smile covers her lips and she glides her hand along Victoria’s thighs until she can grip around the back of her leg, holding onto it as she falls beside her on the pillow.

She’s opened her for me, and when I look to Beauty, she silently begs me to take my place, so I don’t hesitate slipping between her thighs, my arms at her sides, shielding her. Guarding her.

There’s a heavy strain between her eyes, one that only gets worse when Mallory’s hands slide between us, and we allow her to unclip my belt, pop the button on my jeans and unzip them. They fall open.

Mallory’s hand glides across me, and the muscles in my back clench.

I’m about to snap, tell her to get her fucking hands off me when she pulls away on her own.

“Let her feel,” she whispers, lying back again.

She watches Victoria watch me.

I lower my body, applying the slightest pressure to Victoria’s center with mine and she gasps, but she doesn’t touch me, and fuck, I wish she would.

I want to feel her hands on my skin, I need to feel her hands on my skin.

Her warmth.

Her forgiveness.

Her heart.

But right now, I’ll settle for her heat if it’s what she wants.

Anything for you, Beauty.

I take my knuckle, feathering it along her panty line, and straight down until I meet her clit. I barely touch her, the smallest shortest of grazes, but still she gasps, those thick red lips parting.

Mallory hums beside her, her own hand disappearing between her legs. “She likes that.”

“I know what she likes.”

“So show her. Give her what she needs, Captain.”

My body shakes.

Victoria’s hands on me shake.

Do we shake in rage or fear or more?

Am I really about to fuck the girl I’m in love with for the first fucking time with the girl I thought I loved right beside us?

“She’s ready for you,” Mallory whispers, her shuddered breath fanning over us both.

Anger builds in my chest.

Who is she to tell me?

Victoria is mine, not hers as her twisted mind is trying to convince her.

A shadow falls over me, one that seems to blanket Victoria the same.

“Go get us drinks,” the command flies from my mouth before I can stop it, and everyone freezes.

My eyes meet Mallory’s.

Ever so slowly her frown slips in place, her body pulling away from us both as a gauged gleam slowly fills her eyes.

“Please,” I force the word out, doing my best to keep my tone calm when I’m about to lose my shit.

I can’t do this. I fucking can’t.

At my side, Victoria squeezes, and then lets go of my hand and my attention snaps to her.

A dark, tortured demand of acceptance she’s granted herself burns in her eyes, one that has me holding my breath.

Victoria’s left hand slides into Mallory’s hair, tugging her close.

White, hot jealousy threatens to blur my vision as Victoria’s tongue, a tongue I haven’t thoroughly tasted, disappears into Mallory’s mouth. With each passing second, a heavy tension carves deeper and deeper into her forehead until she finally pulls back to meet Mallory’s eyes, a dead look in her own.

“Make us a drink?” she whispers.

Her approach is much different than mine, and more effective.

“You want a triple, Vee?” she asks her.

Victoria nods and just like that, Mallory stands from the bed and walks out.

It’s us now.

Me and her.

My eyes fly to hers, and I open my mouth to speak, but her hand quickly comes up to cover it.

“Not a sound,” she rasps my own stupid, fucked up rule, sadness lining every inch of her.

Instantly, I feel like even more of a piece of shit.

As far as she’s concerned, I gave her so little of me and took even less of her. I touched her, but only if she was quiet.

She touched me, but my lips were off-limits

I took away as much emotion as I could.

She must think I did all that to show her how little she meant when that’s so far from the truth.

I did it to keep as much of myself as I could, as long as I could, because I knew if I wasn’t careful, everything inside me would quickly be hers, and I wasn’t ready for it.

I was fucking terrified of it.

Of her.

Of us.

Not anymore.

Never again.

I have to show her.

I lower until our bodies are flush against each other, pelvis to pelvis, heart to fucking heart, and her bottom lip starts to tremble, but she pulls it between her teeth to try and hide it.