Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #4)(51)

She gasps, flying off the bed, her hand slamming over her mouth in the process.

“There you go,” I breathe. “Hide from me.”

I fucking need you to.

“You’re going to come for me, right against the brass.”

She does, her pulse beating through her pussy.

“Mm,” I moan, placing the edge of the pinky knuckle at her opening, and rolling my fist, coating my token from one end to the other with her cum.

With my left hand still playing along her center, I grab my cock with my right and pump. Slow to start, but as her legs fall open with satisfaction, I go harder, and her head lifts, her eyes falling to my arm she can’t see the end of as my lower half is hidden by the rise of her mattress.

Her gaze snaps to mine and I hold it, staring right in her eyes as I work toward my own release, thoughts of her heat in my head, her flavor on my tongue.

Her body slick on mine.

Her lips part as I pull my fist to my mouth, my tongue coming out for a heavy sweep along the brass, cleaning her from it completely. I groan, long and loud, my cum following the sound. I shift quickly, catching it with my palm.

I don’t look back at her, don’t wait for my body to settle or my heart rate to drop.

I pull up my sweats, place my knuckles back in my pocket, and walk out, but I freeze right outside her door, when her whispered words reach me, and I’m not even sure if they were supposed to.

“Hate me today, Cap,” she speaks to herself. “But careful. You might just love me tomorrow.”

Fuck.





Chapter 15





Captain



I fucked up.

I tested and tasted the deceiving forbidden fruit when I should have stomped it beneath my feet. A flavor so sweet I want more, a sight so gripping I’ll never forget.

She was accepting, greedy.

Gorgeous.

Fucking dangerous.

It should make this easier, fighting and denying, knowing there’re parts of her she doesn’t want to share—what a story the marks on her skin must tell—but it doesn’t.

Somehow, as sickening as it is to admit, it makes it worse.

She doesn’t trust me either.

What’s worse is the way the knowledge makes me ache.

I want her to give me all the things a woman gives her man.

Her faith, her heart, her heat.

For what, though?

What will I do with those things once I have them?

Even more frightening, what will she do when she realizes she’s stolen parts of mine?

I close my notebook, tucking it back into the drawer at the side of my bed, and lift my laptop from my comforter, rewinding and pressing play for what must be the hundredth fucking time, each one making her voice clearer and clearer.

“Cap. Yo,” Royce shouts from the stairwell. “You up there?”

I let the rest of the video play out, then hit pause, and toss it aside. “Yeah,” I call back, swinging my legs over the side of my bed.

He comes around the corner as I run my hands through my hair.

He frowns, nodding his chin. “What’s going down?”

I hang my head a moment before slightly lifting it and glancing up at him. “She recorded the videos.”

At first, he frowns, tilting his head a bit and then his eyes widen. “Wait, what?”

I sigh, letting my arms fall to the keyboard.

When I made my way back to my room last night, I did so after having snagged Zoey’s tablet from the media room so I could copy all the files to my hard drive.

“Listen.” I rewind it by a few seconds and press play.

Royce hesitantly looks from it to me and back, nodding.

He steps closer, watching us fuck around on screen. Like me, a hint of a grin finds his lips as Raven talks, but then his shoulders straighten and the video cuts off. I pause before it can move into the next one.

He turns to me with a frown, looks me over, easily spotting my lack of sleep. “I’m guessing you already watched it a solid dozen times to be sure?”

“It’s her, Royce. Raven must have been walking up this time, and she cut off before she was seen.”

“And she had to hide it ‘cause we didn’t know she knew about Zoey.”

I nod.

He licks his lips as his hands find his hips. “Huh. That explains the back and forth footsteps in the hall last night.”

A scoffed laugh leaves me, but a groan quickly follows, and I drag my hands down my face. I let them fall to my sides and look to my brother.

“What if she wasn’t here? I wouldn’t have been able to make Zo happy, help her feel better.”

“Stop.” His forehead tightens and he steps in to grip my shoulder, his eyes firm. “None of us have ever felt more worthless or weak or any other fucked up thought you could possibly have than we did last night. You were alone in none of it. We fucking felt it, shit, we feel what you’re feeling right now. She’s ours, too, brother. She hurts, we hurt.”

A heavy sense of comfort weighs on me, mixing with the ache of helplessness and overwhelming me to the point I have to look away.

Royce steps toward the door, and I nod, moving with him.

“Let’s go tell the others.”

We make our way down the stairs, through the billiard room, and out the backdoor.