Broken Kingdom (Royal Hearts Academy #4)(75)

Hands on my hips, I turn my furious glare on him. “I’m your sister, dipshit, not your servant.”

He pouts. “Come on.”

“Fine.” Walking over to the kitchen table, I pick up my cell. “I’ll order you a pizza.”

At that, Jace perks up. “Make sure you ask for pineapple.”

“Dude, no,” Cole argues as I bring the phone to my ear. “Pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza, you fucking freak of nature.”

“Fuck you, pretty boy,” Jace snaps before shoving him. “We’re getting pineapple.”

Cole shoves him back. “No, we’re not.”

Jace stands—or rather, he tries to—but he’s so drunk he wobbles. “Pine-fucking-apple.”

Cole staggers to his feet. “Meat-fucking-ball.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Hello,” a groggy sounding Sawyer answers after the third ring. “Bianca, are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” I clear my throat. “However, I need you to come to Oakley’s and get your boyfriend who is so drunk he’s seconds away from fist fighting his brother—who is also drunk, by the way—over pineapple pizza.”

“Shit.” I can practically hear her jumping out of bed. “I’ll be right there.”

I promptly end the call.

Mouth agape, Cole places his hand over his heart. “Traitor.” He looks at Jace. “Can you believe she called Sawyer and tattled on me?”

Shrugging, Jace plops down on the couch. “Not my problem.” Folding his arms behind his head, he places his feet on the coffee table and peers up at me. “Pineapple. Now.”

Flashing him some teeth, I bring the phone to my ear again. “Sure thing.”

Dylan picks up after the second ring. “Hi—”

“I need you to come to Oakley’s and pick up your drunk boyfriend. Now.”

With that, I hang up.

Cole snorts. “Well played, little sis.”

Reaching over, Jace smacks the back of his head. “Shut up.”

They start arguing again, but it dawns on me that Oakley’s been in the bathroom for a while now.

Leaving them to their bickering, I walk inside the bedroom and head for the adjoining bathroom.

The door swings open right before I reach it.

Oakley’s expression is almost painful. “You.”

“Me.”

Next thing I know he’s shoving me up against the wall in a kiss so sizzling my skin breaks out in goose bumps.

“Do you have any idea what you fucking do to me?” His hot mouth skates down my jaw. “How much you fuck me up?”

I’m about to remind him that my brothers are in the next room and they can walk in on us at any moment, but I lose all sense of logic when his mouth dips to my neck and he starts untying the drawstring to my pants.

“I was supposed to have fun tonight,” he rasps against my flesh as his hand disappears inside my panties. “But all I could think about was coming home to you.” I’m trying to process his words, but he grinds the heel of his hand against my clit. “How much I crave this tight pussy.”

A hiss escapes me when he slips a finger inside my slickness.

He groans low and deep. “I love how you’re always so goddamn wet for me.”

It takes every ounce of willpower not to moan when he picks up his pace, teasing me into oblivion.

“Fuck. I could take you right here, baby girl.” My entire body trembles when his teeth sink into my neck, hard enough to leave a mark as he adds another finger. “Bury my dick inside you and make you mine forever.” Something obscure passes in his gaze. “That way you’d never forget me.”

I open my mouth to tell him to do it, but he freezes…right before he starts shaking and falls to the floor.

Shit.

“Oakley’s having a seizure,” I shout.

My heart’s in my throat as I rush to grab a pillow off the bed and place it under his head.

A moment later Jace and Cole are at my side.

“Is he okay?” Cole asks.

“How long has he been seizing?” Jace questions.

“About twenty seconds…so far.”

My mind is spinning trying to figure out how one moment we were fooling around and the next…he’s having a seizure.

Oakley has epilepsy, so seizures aren’t exactly foreign—but I also know his seizures are almost always triggered by severe emotional distress…or drugs.

My stomach drops. “Were you guys with him the whole time tonight?”

Jace and Cole exchange a confused glance.

“Yeah,” Cole answers. “Why?”

“Go,” I tell them. “You two are drunk. I’ve got this.”

They start to protest, but the look I shoot them tells them I mean business. “I mean it, assholes. Get out.”

I wait for Oakley’s seizure to end before I shove my hand inside his pocket.

A ball of dread lodges in my throat when I pull out a tiny plastic bag. It’s empty, but I notice a faint white powdery residue.

Oakley blinks up at me when he comes to. He looks so disoriented I almost forget how livid I am with him.

“You had a seizure,” I whisper, running my hand along his forehead.