Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,81
to gain some semblance of control.
My head is bowed over because of the low roof, so I end up wrapped around Hael as he teases both nipples until they're painful and aching. When he pulls back, the wetness on those pert pink points makes them feel icy cold, and I put his hands right back where they were.
“Let's get some of these clothes off,” he purrs, reaching down to undo the button on my jeans. As soon as he does, he slips his hand in to see what we're working with here. Lucky for him, I'm soaked through already. “Fuck,” he groans as I grab his wrist and push his inked hand under the silken fabric of my undies, the same ones Vic gave me that I washed last night.
Hael's fingers tease my folds as he looks up at me with eyes the color of honey, and runs his tongue over his full, lower lip. I won't lie: I've wondered before what it might be like to fuck Hael Harbin. And I have to say, so far I'm not disappointed.
Using my own wetness for lube, Hael works my clit with his thumb, this strong, steady pressure that has me quivering and sweating before the song's even over.
Scrambling for the door handle, I press down on it and push Hael's hand away at the same time.
He must know what I'm up to because he just grins as he strips off his shirt and chucks it into the back seat. There I am, bare-breasted and stripping my jeans off in a deserted parking lot, my heart thundering like crazy as I wonder who might be watching.
When I climb back in, shoving my jeans into the passenger seat, I find that Hael's already one step ahead of me. He's not only undone his own pants, but he's in the process of fanning out a sea of condoms for me to look at.
“Your choice, baby,” he says as I straddle his thighs and yank the door closed behind me, trapping us together with the smell of leather and sex. “I've got different colors, ribbed options, different flavors …”
“Don't get too excited,” I say, snatching a red condom that matches his hair. There's a hitch in my voice, a breathless sort of quality that belies my insistence that this is all a chore, that I'm doing this out of duty. I'm here because I want to be here. “There's not nearly enough room in here for a blow job.”
“Tomorrow morning then?” he asks, as I reach down and wrap my hand around his shaft, giving it a squeeze. “I'll pick you up before school?”
I meet his eyes and then lean forward, letting a bit of saliva well up on the edge of my lips and drip to the head of his cock before working him with my fist. He's got a piercing on the tip that I tease with my thumb, mimicking the way he touched me first.
“Maybe.” I look down at Hael, lounging back on his red and black leather seat, ink tracing his muscular arms. He doesn't have nearly as much work as, say, Oscar, but it's impressive, for someone who's not-quite-eighteen to be sporting so much skin art. Technically, it's illegal to get tattooed under the age of eighteen in Oregon, but illegal doesn't mean impossible. I'm sure he has his contacts the same way I have mine. “Put this on,” I say, handing over the condom and giving him a few last pumps with my fist while he opens it.
It occurs to me that we haven't kissed yet.
It occurs to me … that maybe I don't want to.
There's a certain distance here that I can handle. I can stay numb on the inside while my body burns on the outside.
Hael finishes slipping the condom on, and then reaches out for my hips, dragging me just a bit closer. The space is so confined that my knee is digging into the door on one side, the gear shift on the other, but it doesn't matter. When Hael pulls my panties aside with two fingers and encourages me to slide over him, I don't have to think. I don't have to feel my emotions breaking into pieces and cutting me up from the inside.
The music continues to blare from the speaker, one sexy song after another. I realize Hael must have some sort of playlist set up. None of this is random.
I position him at my opening and start to settle back. He