Mayhem At Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #3)(40)

“Oh, Hael,” I moan, and he curses in French, thrusting his hips up toward his hand. “Fuck me harder.”

“Push me too much, and I might just do it,” he grinds out, our eyes meeting as we work our own bodies just the way we like. I take note of his grip, the speed of his hand, the way he keeps flicking his piercing, and I file it all away for next time. “Work that kitty cat for me, Bernie.”

I obey his command, thrusting up and riding my own fingers like they’re his pierced shaft instead. My body clamps down, pulsing desperately, milking Hael’s fictional cock.

“Okay, fuck this,” he finally says, reaching out and grabbing me by the hair. “Use your mouth, don’t be greedy, Blackbird.” Hael pushes my face down over his dick and comes hard on my tongue, filling my mouth with his salty seed. He finishes himself by pumping his hips a few last times, and I sit back hard in my seat, swiping my arm across my mouth while he sits there panting and gazing at me with satisfaction.

“You’re an ass, you know that?” I growl out, leaning back and fucking myself with tattooed fingers until I finally feel my own release. Hael watches me as my climax takes over, and my body shivers and twitches with pleasure.

As soon as I’m done, Hael tosses me his shirt, so I can clean off my fingers.

“I’ve been with married women before,” Hael says, and I give him a sharp look that very clearly says do not fucking bring that shit up with me. He just flashes a shit-eating smirk back at me. “But never one as pretty as you.”

“Just hope Victor doesn’t find out about this until after he comes to his senses,” I grumble, picking my top up and resisting the urge to groan when the pert, pink points of my nipples brush against the fabric. Hael ties the strings behind my back and at the base of my neck, tickling his fingers down my spine before I find the courage to move away.

If we keep touching each other, I won’t be able to hold back.

“He won’t find out,” Hael reassures me, still smiling. I notice he doesn’t make any move to put his shirt back on. “Now, let’s start this lesson before I decide there are other things I’d rather teach you.”

“Ass,” I murmur, but I’m smiling now, too. “You sure I’m not going to kill us both by crashing into the sea?” Hael laughs at me and shakes his head, sitting up in his seat.

“Listen, just take it easy. You can't exactly fuck this up, you know, since we're stripping the car for parts. It doesn't matter. Relax and let the Ferrari speak to you. We’ll leave it in sport mode and just get you used to being behind the wheel.” I press my foot down on the brake as Hael reaches over to push the button that starts the engine, releasing the parking brake at the same time. “I want you to press the gas down slowly and turn the wheel toward the road; there’s a bit of multitasking involved but I bet you can handle it. It's just like when you're going down on a guy, and you grab his dick in one hand and suck the tip with your pretty red mouth.”

I give him a look that could freeze the Sahara Desert.

“Hael Harbin, what do you know about sucking dick?” I ask, and he winks at me.

“I've gotten mine sucked enough to know all I need to know. Now focus.” He gestures with his chin in the direction of the wheel. “Grab on, Blackbird, and let's do this. Once you get a taste of the open road, I think you'll like it. Driving is like, the ultimate freedom. You can go anywhere; you can do anything.”

I look back out the windshield; we're parked in the little half-circle parking lot in just such a way that I don't need to back up to get out. A little gas, a turn of the wheel. You've got this, Bernie, I tell myself, releasing the clutch when Hael tells me to. The car thrusts forward, and then shoots off onto the road with a screech.

I scream, but Hael just lets out his usual howling laugh.

“Ah, little bird, if you could only see the look on your face. Oscar would probably pay to have that expression framed.”

“I'd flip you off if I could,” I grumble, trying and failing to keep a consistent speed.

“You're lucky: this car has an adaptive suspension and a smooth-shifting dual-clutch, so it's basically an automatic transmission. The Eldorado might be a bit trickier for ya.” He nods like that's that. “Now tell me: what song will set you free, Blackbird? Drive me to the saltwater taffy shop in Newport, and I'll play it for you.”

It only takes me a split-second to make a decision.

“Trouble,” I say, and my heart seizes. “By Valerie Broussard. That's the right song. It's what I need to hear right now.”

We buried my past when we buried the Thing; I'm starting to actually look toward a possible future.

“You got it,” Hael says, selecting the song and pressing play. The music comes thumping out of the speakers as I brake too hard and we fly around a bit in our seats. But Hael is most definitely right about one thing: there is nothing so electrifying as the feeling of being free. “You got this, Blackbird,” Hael says again and then—and the wind almost steals this last bit away from me—“And I got you. Don’t be scared, little bird.”

I bite back tears, exhaling sharply as Valerie sings about boys that are like poisonous thorns.

Those are my Havoc Boys, that's for fucking sure.

The Ferrari whips around the curves, the mountain on our left, the beach on our right, the world stretched endlessly out in front of us.