Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,123
as pinning. He responded with the comment: writing for shock value, no substance. I got an F. Pretty sure he was just being petty.
“Why are you in my face?” I ask, and Vic narrows his eyes on me, jaw clenching. I infuriate him like nobody else. I wonder if I melt some of his numbness away, like he does to me.
“Because you piss me off,” he says, but he's leaning in way too close for somebody that's simply pissed off. He puts his face up alongside mine, and I have to close my eyes. Emotions arc through me like shooting stars, and I have to resist the urge to squirm. When Vic breathes across the side of my neck, I shiver and goose bumps spring up across the surface of my skin.
“The feeling's mutual,” I manage to grind out as Vic puts his lips against the curve of my shoulder, and I find that I can't keep my hands to myself. My nails end up digging into his biceps as I cling to him. It's been a long two weeks, with him ignoring me the way he's been.
“All I can think about is your body wrapped around mine,” he murmurs, slowly flicking his tongue against my skin. I'm aware we're standing in the hallway, but none of the other students will bother us. They know better than that. “I've watched that video of you and Hael every day this week and jacked off to it.”
“Liar,” I mumble, but then I open my eyes and Vic moves back to look at me.
“I came so hard every time I watched it,” he grinds out, and my nails dig even deeper into his biceps. “And I imagined that I was coming inside of you again.”
“We can't keep doing that,” I say, and he pushes off the wall, grabbing one of my hands and pulling me down the hall.
“Like hell we can't,” Vic says, storming over to the girls' bathroom and barging right in the door. “Okay, ladies, out.” He hooks a thumb in the direction of the door, and all the students scatter, snatching up makeup and stumbling out of the stall doors.
Nobody wants to be left in here to face the rumbling thundercloud that is Victor Channing.
The room empties in a matter of seconds, and then Vic's yanking me into the stall on the far end. He closes and locks the door behind us as the scent of bleach wafts around me. At least it looks like it was just cleaned in here, I think as he turns back to face me.
“Turn around and put your palms on the wall,” he commands, and I do it. This is my deal with Havoc, I think, but really, that's not why I'm here and we both know it. His hands skim the curve of my waist and come to rest on my hips. “You make me chase you, Bernadette, which is just fine by me.” He wraps his fingers around the front of my neck and puts his hot lips up against my ear. “If that’s what you want, I’ll do it; I’m quite good at the chase.”
“You’re such a royal piece of shit,” I snarl as he reaches down and unbuttons my leather pants, shoving them over the round curve of my ass. “I fucking hate you.”
Victor chuckles, and I can feel his knuckles brush against my throbbing heat as he undoes his own jeans.
“We were both in the room that night, baby. Don’t lie to me.” Vic kisses the edge of my mouth and then mounts me with one, hard thrust, taking over my body with that way of his.
He fucks me into the wall, my fingers curling against the tile, my mind obliterated by his heat, his incessant need, his demand. I want more, even though I know I shouldn’t. Part of me wonders if my obsession with Vic Channing is going to get me killed one day. But it’s too late now, isn’t it? I’m embroiled in Havoc’s world.
We don’t bother keeping quiet. Why should we? For a moment, I let that thought wash over me: Vic is king of the school, so that would make me queen in a way, right? We’re engaged, after all, and everybody fucking knows it.
“I want to see that wedding dress of yours,” he growls, like he can read my thoughts. “Oscar is lording it over me, and I don’t like it.” Vic yanks me harder against him, burying himself in my wet heat.