Chaos at Prescott High by C.M. Stunich Page 0,83

no idea why he’s telling me this, especially right now of all times, but it seems important.

“Of course,” I respond, trying to kiss him again, but Vic stops me with a finger on my lips.

“Our safety word is mare’s nest. Do you know what that means?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer; he knows I don’t. “It means bullshit. If you need to tell us something is wrong without alerting anyone else, just say that you need to untangle a mare’s nest.” Victor smirks, his face shadowed and scary in the half-light. “It can also mean disorder, havoc.”

“Telling me all your secrets today?” I ask, choking on a sudden flood of emotion. Between Aaron and that strange flickering feeling, and this push-and-pull with Victor, I’m going to come apart at the seams. I think about Halloween night, about how quick the boys showed up at the house, not long after Aaron and I did.

He must’ve called them in the SUV, before we came inside. Chills creep down my spine at the thought; it’s proof that they think of everything. Speaking of, that stolen SUV was gone when I woke up the next day, like it’d never been. Efficient. I guess the Havoc Boys would have to be, considering they play such reckless games.

I’d still love to know how they managed to get showered up before appearing like shadows in the night. Maybe later though, when my pussy isn’t aching for Vic’s cock.

“I want to tell you everything, Bernie,” he breathes back, sliding his mouth against mine but withholding his kiss on purpose, just to make me squirm.

“Fuck me,” I command, and Vic grins, as sharp as a knife.

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” he snarls, tearing his belt off and tossing it aside. He shoves his pants down his hips like they’ve personally offended him. When Vic tries to grab me and start off on a wild power-fuck the way he does, I stop him with a hand on his chest.

“Condom,” I tell him, looking him dead in the face. The way he snarls, you’d think he was a wild animal. “Now, or no deal.”

“You use a condom with Aaron?” he hisses at me, but I just frown.

“Condom,” I repeat and Vic growls, reaching past me to shove the glass lid off a small ceramic jar that I just assumed held, like, cotton balls or something. Instead, it’s full of condoms.

Wow.

This really was a house run by bachelors, wasn’t it?

Not anymore.

Victor puts the condom on his dick in a way that I can tell he’d murder the latex if he could, drown it in the goddamn toilet or something.

“You are such a bitch,” he purrs as he wraps an arm around my waist and drags me close, pressing my cunt to his hard lower belly. The way he says bitch, though, it’s clearly affectionate.

“How’s this for a boss bitch move,” I begin, adjusting myself and lifting my legs up to put my feet against the side of the doorjamb on one side, and against a shelf on the other. Good thing it’s screwed into the drywall because I’m about to abuse the hell out of it. “Don’t move, Victor. Seriously. Stay where you are.”

“The hell?” he murmurs, because he’s such an alpha dick that he can’t imagine not doing the thrusting. But I’ve already been fucked today; it’s my turn to fuck someone else.

I start to move before Vic can question me further, and that shuts him up real quick. Wrapping one arm around his neck, I use the other to grab his cock, pushing my hips forward and impaling myself on his monster dick.

“Oh, god,” I groan, letting my head fall back. Bracing my feet on either side of him, I start to move, pushing off the shelf and the wall to get the movement I need to stir up friction.

Victor quivers as he struggles to stay still, his hands on my hips, encouraging the movement. It feels so good that I lose myself, moving faster, pushing harder. Vic ends up stumbling back against the door as I attack his mouth.

The bathroom is so small that when I put my feet against the wall on either side of him, I can also brace my arms against the wall behind me. I rock my hips forward and back, my body soaked in sweat, trembling with fatigue. But I’m doing it, I’m fucking Victor Channing against a wall.

“Shit, darling, you really are my little Havoc Queen, aren’t you?” he murmurs

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