Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,60
too hyper-aware to have an orgasm, but Vic comes inside of me with a ragged groan, his hot breath against my neck, the searing warmth of his hand pressing into my hip. When he steps back, I’m too liquid to do anything but sink to the floor, my forehead against the wall, body shaking.
He just stands there; I can feel his presence behind me, this all-consuming demand that I both hate and crave at the same time. The way I feel about Victor Channing, it makes no sense.
“Get up,” he says, but not unkindly. “We need to get back to class.”
That’s right.
Couldn’t possibly risk losing his inheritance, now could we?
Using the wall for leverage, I haul myself up, but there’s a mess between my thighs that has to be cleaned up. Without looking at Vic, I breeze past him toward the bathroom. He didn’t use a condom, I think as I strip down and take a quick shower, careful to keep my hair from getting wet.
It’s hard to bring myself to care.
Instead, I open the door in nothing but a towel.
“I can’t wear these,” I say, tossing the underwear and jeans his direction. They land in a heap at his booted foot as he regards me with dark eyes, his expression impossible to read. Impossible. Just fucking impossible. “I’m not going back to school in cum-stained clothing.”
“Nobody asked you to,” Vic snaps back, snatching the items from the floor and disappearing into the kitchen. A few moments later, I hear the rushing sound of water in a washing machine. When Vic reappears, he can barely look at me, storming past and up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.
I lean against the doorjamb and close my eyes, completely numb.
I don’t feel a thing.
That is, until I feel his heat, his gaze, watching me. Always watching me.
Warily, I crack my eyes and find him there, staring at me. For the briefest of seconds, the expression on Victor’s face matches mine. But that doesn’t mean it’s any more explainable or understandable. He’s an enigma, a lone planet floating in a faraway galaxy. Yet if I can discern anything from this moment, it’s that as soon as he’s within my orbit, I don’t feel numb anymore.
“Here.” He hands over a pair of underwear that look brand-new as well as a pair of Prescott High gym shorts. They’re his, so far too big, but at least they have a drawstring. I step back and close the bathroom door, slipping into the undies—dude undies, but oh well—and the shorts. “How are your stitches?” is what he asks me when I open the door back up.
“Fine,” I say, but they’re bleeding a little. I mean, he did throw me into a wall.
Vic grunts and grabs an extra hoodie from a hook near the door, chucking it at me the same way I chucked my dirty jeans at him, and then we head outside to his bike. I have to hide a small grimace when I straddle it, that ache between my thighs burning now that the adrenaline of the moment has faded.
Neither of us says a word until we arrive back at the high school, parking a block away and walking back.
Hael meets us out front.
Must be lunchtime. Seniors are the only ones allowed off-campus during lunch. Either that, or the Havoc Boys have paid off the new security guard to look the other way when they break the rules, the same way they did the last one.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Hael demands, sliding his palms over his red hair, muscles in his inked arms bunching with the motion. “Shit is going down. Those Ensbrook and Charter fuckers are all over our dicks.”
“I told you to wait until I got back,” Vic snaps, ice-cold, iron-clad.
Fuck, I hate him.
And yet … when I close my eyes, I can feel him buried inside of me, and that heat I work so hard to fight back begins to creep into every single cell.
Luckily, Hael is too flustered to notice either of our strange behavior, or the fact that I’m wearing Victor’s gym shorts. His goddamn name is written across one leg in Sharpie—a school requirement since we have so many problems with theft.
“What happened?” Vic demands as we start toward the front steps where Oscar, Callum, and Aaron are waiting. Unlike Hael, Aaron notices the shorts right away, and his gaze flicks up to my face and the slightly damp tips of my hair.