Broken Kingdom (Royal Hearts Academy #4)(78)

I shake my head. “Later.” I chew my bottom lip wryly. “There’s something else I really want right now.”

His lids lower. “That so?”

I’m about to answer, but his palm starts traveling up my thigh.

My heartbeat grows erratic as his hand slides up my shorts.

“Do you want to go to your bedroom?”

His throat works as his fingers make their way inside my panties. “No.” He teases my clit with the pad of his thumb. “I want to make you come for me right here in this chair.”

Oh, God. I’m so turned on I can’t even see straight.

Mouth parting, I watch the tendons in his arm flex as he pumps those long fingers inside me.

My head lolls back as shivers race up my spine. “Jesus—”

A knock on the door cuts me off.

Undeterred, Oakley continues to work me. “Whoever it is will go away.”

“Open up, Oak. It’s us,” Dylan calls out.

“We brought you birthday treats,” Sawyer adds.

“Shit,” Oakley mutters as he removes his hand. “I forgot that was tonight.”

I mentally curse Dylan and Sawyer for ruining my impending orgasm as I fix my shorts. “Forgot what was tonight?”

“Girls’ n—” Oakley starts to say, but another loud knock cuts him off. “Relax, I’m coming.”

Too bad I’m not.

The moment he opens the door, Dylan and Sawyer bounce inside, carrying a shit-ton of stuff in their hands.

“I know you said you didn’t want to go to the bar,” Dylan begins. “But we still wanted to celebrate with you.”

Smiling from ear to ear, Sawyer adds, “So instead of having a girls’ night out…we’re having a girls’ night in.” Her smile widens when she sees me. “Hey, Bianca. I didn’t know you were here, but it’s perfect timing.”

I raise a brow. “Perfect timing for what?”

Sawyer and Dylan quickly proceed to empty their bags.

From the looks of things, it’s safe to say they raided every beauty product aisle at the local dollar store.

I have to stifle a laugh when I catch the horrified look on Oakley’s face.

Visibly distressed, he holds up what appears to be a face mask. “What the fuck is this shit?”

“It helps clear your pores,” Sawyer answers cheerfully. “We also brought stuff to do your nails.”

He backs away like a wild animal caught in a trap. “Nuh-uh. Not fucking happening.” He slaps his chest. “In case you two are blind, I’m a dude. Get this girly shit out of my house.”

“Relax,” Dylan says with a roll of her eyes. “One spa night with us won’t revoke your man card.” She grins. “Plus, we also made a big jug of margaritas, so you’ll be nice and relaxed soon.”

My chest coils.

It’s been almost a week since Oakley promised me he’d try and he’s been doing really well.

Sure, he still works for Loki and at No Name, but I haven’t seen him so much as pick up a beer lately.

The first few days of his newfound sobriety he was downright miserable and stayed in bed, but he was strong enough to get through it.

However, I’m worried he’s going to give in to temptation soon—especially now that he and his closest friends are twenty-one so having a few drinks while hanging out is pretty much second nature now.

I can tell he’s fighting an internal war with himself as he mulls this over.

Come on, Oakley. Stay strong.

Blowing out a breath, he squeezes the back of his neck. “Fine. Nix the margaritas and I’m in.”

And just like that, the tension in my chest dissipates and swells with pride.

Dylan shrugs. “Okay. We can make daiquiris instead if you—”

“Jesus Christ, Dylan,” I snap, trying my hardest not to throttle her. “Quit forcing him to drink.”

Dylan’s eyes widen in surprise. “I’m not. I just…” Visibly uncomfortable now, she shuffles her feet. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t,” Oakley interjects. “But I…uh. I’ve been trying to cut down.”

Her face perks up. “Really?” She wraps her arms around him. “That’s awesome.” Expression serious, she peers up at him. “I’m proud of you, Oak.”

Sawyer picks up a jug and pours the liquid down the sink. “Me too.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Oakley grunts. “Don’t you two go all after school special on me.” He pats his stomach. “I’m just trying to work on my abs.”

Dylan and Sawyer roll their eyes before all three of them share a laugh.

I hate that he felt the need to turn something serious—something he should be giving himself credit for—into a joke, but it doesn’t surprise me.

Sawyer holds up two packages. “What kind of face mask does everyone want? I have charcoal and cucumber aloe.”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” I say, heading for the door.

Oakley frowns. “You’re leaving?”

“Come on, Bianca,” Sawyer whines. “Stay.”

Dylan goes silent.

Feeling’s mutual, bitch.