Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #5) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,129

desperate for connections that we can count on, love that only hurts in the best possible way, and companionship.

Family.

We find it there, in that room, in the shadows with the curtains parted and the city sparkling beyond the ring of dark woods that surrounds the school.

“Question,” Hael whispers, taking up the side of the giant bed that’s closest to the windows. “How do we broach the subject of sex?”

“Jesus,” Aaron murmurs, but not like he isn’t curious himself. He’s lying on my right side, one arm banded over my stomach. Oscar is on my left, lying on his back, his profile the only part of him that I can see. Cal lies between him and Hael while Vic is on Aaron’s other side, a nightstand between him and the wall.

And I love it here.

I love this.

Does it make me selfish that I want to keep this arrangement forever and ever? I can’t decide. The only thing I know is that even if it does, I want it. I want it more than anything.

“The one thing about royalty,” I start, quoting a song by Bohnes called “Middle Finger”, “is that we love to feast.”

I turn toward Aaron and then gently encourage him onto his back with a palm to the chest. He whispers something that I can’t quite hear but that I’m pretty sure is thank fucking god before I start to slide that palm down his ripped abs, brushing across the thin trail of hair below his belly button. It’s a delicious sensation, an anticipatory moment, before I dip beneath his waistband altogether. Even though it’s dark, and I can barely see him, I’ve got the image of him in my mind’s eye, tousling his wet hair with the towel earlier, pants clinging to his slender hips.

And oh, the sounds he makes when I wrap my fingers around the base of him and squeeze. That’s poetry enough. My lips part as I scoot closer, searching out the hardened points of his nipples with my tongue.

“Oh, I see how it goes,” Hael starts, but then there’s the sound of rustling fabric and a groan from him that speaks to self-pleasure. “Hey Vicki?”

“Swear to fuck, if you call me that again …” Victor starts, and then he lets out a long, tired-sounding sigh. But not in a bad way. More like … he finally feels like he’s allowed to have a moment of rest? “What do you want, Hael?”

“Lube. I put like, four or five bottles in the drawer over there.”

I laugh, even as Aaron moans and bucks his hips up against my hand. Behind me, I can feel the tension in Oscar’s body. He isn’t sure what to do, and he doesn’t like that. Fuck, it’s a state the man doesn’t find himself in often. He always knows what to do. Just … not here, not tonight.

“Rules for sex are,” I continue as the bottle of lube makes its way from Vic’s hand to mine. Our fingers tangle in the dark, driving lust and heat and fire into my body even from such a simple touch. I briefly withdraw my hand from Aaron’s pajama pants, filling my palm with a generous amount of lube before passing it behind me. It goes right over Oscar and into Callum’s hand. “Whatever the fuck we want. Anything. As long as it stays within this group and we use a safe word for any situation that makes us uncomfortable. I think mare’s nest would be an appropriate one, if you guys are in agreement.”

Vic gives me a saucy look, likely because he remembers offering me that same safe word during our threesome with Aaron.

“There could never be another safe word,” Cal agrees, his voice as much a part of the shadows as the darkness itself. Husky, full of depth, crafted of violence but wielded with rough pleasure.

Aaron shoves his pants down his hips, giving me better access to the velvet heat of his cock. My slick fingers find purchase around the base, my hand tightening until he finally lets out a sharp gasp, his own hand lifting up to tangle in the loose blond hair at the back of my head.

Oscar shifts again, and I realize that he’s sat up behind me. When I glance back, I see that he’s leaning against the headboard, shirtless and limned in the faintest bit of moonlight from outside the window. As soon as he sees that I’m looking at him, he puts his hand down his own pants