Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High 4)

“How about my future?”

“What’s your future look like?”

“You tell me,” she dares.

“I’ve got an idea.” I trace the curve of her body with the pads of my fingers. “But I’d be lying if I said I knew for sure.”

Victoria doesn’t close herself off at my words. She’s not a needy girl who wants promises, likely doesn’t even believe in them anyway.

Instead she finds my belt loops and tugs me closer.

She leans in, the rise and fall of her chest mixing with mine as she pushes to her toes, her lips now on my neck.

She tastes me, and her body quakes, causing my groin to tighten.

Remembering my rule, she swallows her moans, eyes glossed over and begging.

Heat runs up my veins, and before I can stop it, my hand is sliding into her jeans, past her underwear.

“Warm and wet,” I groan, my forehead falling to her shoulders. “Just the way I like you.”

“So.” A harsh breath comes from her nostrils as she fights away her whimpers, pushing into my hand. “You like me, huh?”

A chuckle makes its way up my throat, but it quickly cuts off as she begins riding my hand.

I let her set her pace, not moving an inch, but applying pressure where she leads me.

I’m straining in my jeans, aching.

But all I want right now is to drown in her raspy hums, to force the filth I’ve denied myself of into the air.

I want to hear her screams, feel her screams like a pulse beneath my skin, but before I can beg her for them, before I shred my own rule, a not so swallowed moan breaks through our little shelter, a deeper, heavier one following and we both freeze.

My head pops up when Maddoc groans, “Fuck, Snow.”

Victoria’s eyes fly to mine, but she doesn’t laugh or pull away.

She keeps chasing what she wants, intruders be damned.

Her pussy clenches around me, so I shift the slightest bit, letting her play on the tips of my fingers instead of my palm.

“Cover your ears,” I demand. “Your orgasm belongs to me.”

That has her eyes rolling back, her muscles squeezing.

I push two fingers inside of her, keeping my thumb up to push against her clit and she starts to shake, the ivy beside her quivering with her, alerting the others they aren’t alone either.

She comes, biting into her lip as her eyes slam shut, her walls flexing against me, and I press my hard-on into her leg, my thigh muscles tightening to chase some relief.

Heavy steps against dead leaves follow, but she doesn’t hear them, and I don’t dare pull out of her, not yet, not when she’s still riding out her orgasm.

And when her eyes finally open, they’re focused over my shoulder.

She doesn’t get embarrassed, tug away or bury her face.

She gives a hard, bratty blink, a heavy eye roll following as her body begins to sag.

“Raven wasn’t kidding,” she pants. “There are literally no secrets between you guys.”

I shift my head, looking over my shoulder without moving.

Royce and Maddoc are standing there.

“I’ll admit.” Royce nods his head, crossing his arms as he looks from Maddoc to me. “Hide and seek was a shit idea with a kid.”

“Hide and go seek is for kids,” Victoria corrects him.

“Yeah, okay.” He scoffs, and starts walking away. “And chocolate syrup was made for ice cream!”Chapter 21VictoriaChloe dashes by, grabs my arm and yanks me close with a wide smile and red cheeks.

I tear free from her. “What the hell?”

She grins. “If my dad asks, I was with you!”

“What—”

“Chloe!” is boomed in the empty hall, echoing across from one end to the next and she clamps her lips shut with a laugh, yanks her loud-ass heels from her feet and disappears into the bathroom the second Mr. Carpo steps around the corner looking full-on mob boss.

He skids to a stop. “Ms. Vega.”

“Mr. Carpo.”

“Did you see my daughter come this way?”

“Yeah, we were in the bathroom, but she left a few minutes ago,” I lie.

His eyes narrow, so I add, “I pissed off a Brayshaw, she was, you know, taking a minute to rub it in.”

He frowns, nods, and then the poor guy apologizes, and I have to fight back a laugh.

“She’s working on...”

“Manners?” I quirk. “Yeah, I noticed.”

He chuckles, running a hand down his face. “Well, I guess that’s a good thing. Lunch is in fifteen minutes, go back to class, all right?” He turns toward his office.

Suddenly Mac pokes his head out of a door down the hall, grinning when he sees me standing there, his hair a tangled mess on the top of his head, pink lipstick on his neck.

I cross my arms and he laughs as he saunters this way.

He nods his chin. “Vee.”

“Mac.”

Chloe comes out, hair back to perfect and wraps an arm through his.

She smiles. “Thanks.”

And off they go.

I make it back to class just a few minutes before the lunch bell rings.