Trouble at Brayshaw High (Brayshaw, #2)

He licks it, blowing his warm breath over the wet spot, making me shiver.

“Maddoc...” I whisper, and he grinds against me.

“Almost, baby.” He kisses his way to my left breast and does the same, before making his way up my neck, and finally he pulls the shirt off the rest of the way.

I grip his face and pull his mouth to mine, kissing him fiercely.

Hungrily.

Fucking needy.

I shift my lower half, gasping when the heat of his head slides past my underwear.

He groans against my mouth and reaches down to shove them aside the rest of the way. He aligns himself and I lift my hips, forcing him inside me when he tries to take his time.

When I sigh, he grins and nips at my lips, but when he catches my eyes, his features shift.

His hand comes up to run down my temple, slowly sinking into my hair.

His hips move leisurely, deep full strokes that are driving me mad, but it’s such a good kind of torture.

I moan softly, and he drops his forehead to mine.

“Wrap your arms around me, baby.”

I do as he asks, and he buries his face into the crook of my neck, sighing against my skin and he fucks me slow.

“I love the feel of your pussy, baby,” he whispers. “So tight, so wet.”

I throb around him and he twitches inside me.

“So fucking good.” He grinds deeper and my head tips back. “And mine.”

My fingers twitch, and I slide them up his back, gripping the tops of his shoulders, using his body as a barrier and forcing him deeper.

“Come for me, baby.” He bites against my neck and I start to shiver. He lifts my knee, pushing it out and he hits deeper. “Come with me.”

And I do. I come as he does, both our bodies jolting against each other.

He pulls out and once we clean-up we drop back onto the bed, moving under the covers this time.

We both lie there silent for a few minutes when he finally speaks.

“I meant what I said to you,” he tells me. “His being here changes nothing between us. You’re mine, Raven Carver. No matter what.”

“And are you mine, Big Man?” I ask despite myself.

“Yes.” His answer is instant and should settle me.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t.





I didn’t sleep.

Not even a little all weekend, and now the sun is almost up as the smell of bacon wafts through the bottom of the door, but it’s when the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee hits my nostrils that I tense.

Yesterday, thankfully, Rolland spent the day in his office going over Brayshaw business and we stayed up in the media room, watching crappy movies Royce picked out.

Today seems we won’t be so lucky.

Never thought I’d be excited for school.

I slip from the bed, leaving Maddoc laying there, pull on some sweats and a hoodie and make my way downstairs.

Sure as shit, there he stands, slacks and all, dressed up already.

He doesn’t look up but says, “Good morning, Raven.”

I frown and drop on the bar stool. “How’d you know it was me?”

This time he does turn, a grin on his lips. “My sons weigh twice what you do. I would have heard them coming the second their feet hit the hall.”

I hold his eyes. “Cap likes to do the cooking in the mornings, so you should have asked him to join you or waited, and they let Maddoc make the coffee so he can decide how strong he wants it. Now it won’t be what he needs for the day.”

He rolls his shoulders to hide that they grew tense and he turns back to his task at hand – flipping bacon in a fucking crisp white dress shirt.

He clears his throat. “And Royce?” he asks quietly.

I watch his back intently. “Royce likes hot chocolate. Usually Cap makes it for him so it’s ready when he wakes up. He helps set the table. They all clean up.”

Why am I talking?

Rolland pours a cup of coffee and reaches into the fridge, producing a bottle of creamer.

He sets both in front of me. “And you?” He crosses his arms. “What is your role, exactly?”

Ha! Please.

I shrug, not up for his little game – whatever the hell it might be. “No role. I’m just some girl sleeping in your house, Mr. Brayshaw.”

He nods. “Right. Because my sons would allow some girl into their world as they clearly have you. I was afraid this might happen.”

“Well.” I lean forward. “They weren’t exactly given the choice, now were they?”

“I see you think you understand the situation.” His eyes narrow. “What exactly did your mother tell you, Raven, you know, when you convinced my sons to take you to speak with her?”

Bastard was watching from a cell.

“Plenty. And my mother’s a whore, not much of a liar, you should know this after your many hours spent with her, so I don’t doubt too much of what she shared. Oh, but don’t worry, she made sure to close her lips when she felt her cash flow would be affected. Safe to say your real intent” —I widen my eyes like an asshole— “will rot with her corpse should she croak before you spill ... so long as she gets what she wants, but I’m sure you know all about that.” I pick up the cup and creamer, lift a brow and add, “They don’t like a big breakfast before school.”

I give a shitty smile and move to the other side of the house, leaving him standing there with the smell of burnt bacon.

I end up in the weight room, and drop onto the mat, fix my cup and watch the wind beat on the trees through the window. It angrily swishes at the branches, but not to be deemed weaker, they fight back, lashing in both directions, defying their demand to fall in line.

I lift my cup to my mouth and blow, but as soon as it hits my lips, I freeze, deciding better of it and set the cup down.

A light laugh comes from behind me and I jerk to find Royce.

He leans against the frame. “‘Fraid he spiked your shit, RaeRae?”

I shrug and his smile grows.

“Smart.” He chuckles, jerking his chin. “Come on, girl. Let’s go.”

“Do I have to?”

“You want fresh coffee or not?”

“Are we leaving?”

He laughs, walking over to pull me up. He wraps his arms around me, staring. “You good?”

“No reason not to be yet, right?” My eyes bounce between his.

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