Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #5) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,68

cigarette and raises his red brows in Sara’s direction. “Officers.” He turns back to me, effectively dismissing them as unimportant. “Get that tight ass over here and check out your new ride.”

He steps back and holds out a tattooed hand to indicate the driver’s seat.

Personally, I’m rooted to the spot, as if the ivy spilling down the side of our rental house has trapped my ankles, bound me to Prescott soil so I can feel the dark but vibrant energy of the neighborhood.

“Probably stolen,” Constantine murmurs, but I ignore him. If he’s stupid enough to think the Havoc Boys would bring a stolen car around with the VGTF on our dick, then there’s really no reason to worry about him at all.

“Hael …” I start again as Megan sings about being a bad bitch.

“Blackbird,” he warns right back, reaching out and snatching my wrist. He yanks me up against him, putting his lips up to my ear and sucking the lobe into his hot mouth. My hands come up of their own accord, fingers curling in the front of his t-shirt. When he left this morning, I assumed he was checking on his mom. This … I did not expect this at all. “Stop questioning your good fortune. Sometimes, good things happen. Just smile and say thank you baby, yes I’d be happy to suck your dick later and call it a day.”

I smack him in the chest, and he laughs, but we both know that we each owe each other oral sex. Regardless of the giving and receiving, neither of those scenarios is a punishment for either of us. As I bury my fingers in his shirt, dragging the neckline low enough that I can lick the Hot Rod ink on his chest, my eyes close and I summon up the memory of us fucking in the front seat of the Camaro. Or on the hood of it in Aaron’s driveway.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, thinking of the fuzzy pink dice he got me for Christmas. They’re admittedly hideous, and totally tacky, but I see now that they’ll go perfectly on the rearview mirror. “Actually, it might be the most beautiful thing that anyone has ever done for me.”

I press my face into his chest as he bands his tattooed arms around me. As always, he smells like coconut and motor oil, like grease-stained Prescott dreams dotted with vintage cars and inked hands and scrappy determination. Havoc owes its existence to Hael as much as to anyone else because without him, and his constant desperation to maintain cheer, to joke around when everything else seems to be falling apart, this would never work. He tempers the rest of us with a strength I don’t think even he knows he has.

“Shall we go for a drive?” he asks, and I nod, still pressed against him. Really, there are a lot of other ways I’d like to thank Hael Harbin—most of them involving either my pussy or my mouth wrapped around his dick. Unfortunately for both of us, the decorous officers of the Violent Gang Task Force are still standing here.

“Come inside for a minute,” Cal murmurs, moving up to stand beside us. As he does, and his heat joins with Hael’s, I start to wonder about combinations of boys. Like, does a Hael/Cal sandwich taste any different than a Hael/Vic sandwich? What about a Cal/Oscar with a side of Aaron? Will they enhance each other’s flavors or just cancel each other out?

Only one way to find out …

“Inside,” Hael says, working his jaw briefly. “Okay.” He leans down and kisses my cheek with an affectionate ferocity that leaves me trembling slightly in my pj’s. Hael Harbin makes me feel safe, and excited about life, like we might do something crazy at any moment. Hold hands and dive into an ice-cold stream. Wake up at five in the morning to make pancakes. Pack an overnight bag and jump on an international flight. “Let’s go inside for a moment so you can get dressed? Then we’ll look at the car.”

I pull away from Hael just in time to see him lift a dark gaze and a scowl on the officers. They’re standing there, looking around the neighborhood and making notes on Sara’s phone. They even write down the license plate of the Eldorado which annoys the fuck out of me.

As Hael puts a hand on my lower back to guide me away, I catch a glimpse of said license plate, and my lips