Boys of Brayshaw High - Meagan Brandy Page 0,110

front of me like he would be if he were tossing my legs over his shoulders so he could bury his face between my legs.

My tongue slides between my teeth.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” I ask, but my eyes continue to travel the curve of his shoulders and down his arm.

“Letting your horny show.”

“Can’t help it.” I throw my hand forward, weakly squeezing the packed muscles of his biceps. “You try sitting a foot from a beast in the flesh with crazy eyes and dirty smirk and let’s see if your thong stays dry.”

The bounce of his shoulders has my eyes lifting.

“There’s that smirk I’m talking about.”

“Your shower’s getting cold.”

“Yeah. But I need food.”

“Can you stand?”

“I’m too lazy.”

He sighs but moves his hands beneath my arms and yanks me off the floor, and right into him.

I laugh and turn, planting my hands on the wall behind him. His brows lift just the slightest. “You ever let a girl run the show, big man?”

“No.”

“Never let her push you into a wall and pin you there?” I run a finger along the collar of his shirt. “Never let her do as she pleases, tease until you can’t hang and beg for her to wrap her lips around your dick?”

He drops his head back. “I wouldn’t need to beg. I’d push her to her knees, and she’d be lucky to put me in her mouth.”

A small hum leaves me, and I rest my weight against him, his hand coming around to keep me still. “I wasn’t talking about those lips, big man. I’m talking her pussy lips. You never begged to slide in a girl’s heat, never ‘bout died to feel her suck you in and squeeze to try and keep you here?”

He groans, and I’m quickly spun around, so my back is now to the wall.

“Like I said. No. Now you want me to take your clothes off for you or not?”

“No.”

His forehead pinches. “No?”

“No.”

“Royce said you needed help undressing.”

“I lied.”

“Why?”

“To get him to go away. He was giving me the look.”

Maddoc’s stare shifts between mine and he steps back. “What look?”

“You know, the open-eyed, flat-lipped look you guys got going on lately. Like you’re trying to figure me out. I don’t like it.”

“Maybe we just wanna know you.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to.”

“Maybe you should get over that.” Maddoc frowns and moves into the hall. “Starting dinner in an hour.”

He gets a few feet away when I call his name.

He pops his head back in.

“Is Cap ... I don’t wanna come down if he’s got that beaten look on his face again.”

Maddoc licks his lips as he searches my eyes. He nods his head. “He’s good, Raven.”

When he walks away, I peel my clothes off my body and by the time I get into the shower, Maddoc was right. It’s cold as hell, so I quickly wash and get out, wrapping the towel around me as I run into my room.

I drop back on my mattress and stare at the ceiling a minute before grabbing a water bottle off the nightstand. I down it then pull myself up again.

I pull on a pair of black sweatpants, socks, and a random shirt and head for the kitchen, running my fingers through my hair as I do.

“Whatcha makin’?” I slink beside Maddoc and he scoots over for me to see the veggies he’s cut up.

He smacks my hand when I try to snag a piece of broccoli, so I snag a piece of bread instead – it’ll help with the alcohol better.

“Quick beef and broccoli.” He glances my way as he shifts for the sink to rinse his hands. “Wanna start the rice?”

My nose scrunches. “Uhh ... sure?”

He eyes me. “You don’t know how.”

“I mean, you got instant rice? I can pop it in the microwave like a champ.”

He leans back crossing his arms. “You know how to cook at all?”

I lift a shoulder, leaning back on the opposite side of the kitchen. “I’m sure I could if I read instructions, but can I slide in here and make magic? No.”

He nods and pulls a pot from under the counter. He hands me a measuring cup and tells me what to do. We get the rice rinsed, the water measured and I look back to him.

“So how do you know when it’s hot enough?”

“What?”

“The stove.”

He frowns at me. “Have you never cooked before?”

“Made pancakes at the Bray house, but Victoria helped me out, reluctantly. What I did isn’t really considered cooking, but I have made spaghetti

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