Page 59 of Boys of Brayshaw High (Brayshaw High 1)

“He knows what he’s doing.”

“He doesn’t do PDA.”

“This isn’t PDA.” I look to Leo who raises a brow. “It’s not. She’s sucking his dick. He’s not touching or rubbing or kissing on her. No claim or mark is being made. He’s simply receiving. PDA would be him showing everyone else what he’s got.” I look back to the two, fire growing inside me – not sure if it’s the angry or horny kind – as I watch the free porn. “There’s no pride in this.”

I look to Royce, his mouth fused to both girls, one hand in one’s shirt, the other under the second’s skirt, then to Captain, who may or may not be finger-fucking blondie against a tree.

“No pride in any of this. It’s using pleasure to pretend.”

“Pretend?”

I nod.

“Pretend what?”

Pretend they’re not worried and unsure. To pretend they’re not confused why it bothers them what I do or who I talk to.

To pretend they don’t hope I’m not like the rest.

For some reason, these boys think they need me.

Maybe it’s to help them in some way, a pawn of sorts, or maybe they crave the presence of a female constant, one who doesn’t require anything of them. One who doesn’t judge.

Or maybe I’m completely trippin’ and way off the mark. Who knows.

What I do know is, these boys in front of me, sure they act like sluts often, but this, right now, while not totally out of character for each is them acting out.

They’re angry, maybe hurt, little boys who don’t know how to process the emotion.

Damn it.

Running my hands down my face, I stand and pass my beer back to Leo, who sits back, eyeing me wearily.

He can’t figure me out either, but he doesn’t need to.

I go for Captain first. Yes, I look like the jealous girl, but oh well.

He puts up zero fight and allows me to pull him away by his hand, completely ignoring the girl when she whines from where we leave her.

I lead him into the house and deposit him on his bed. He falls into the mattress with ease, kicks his shoes off and tucks his face into his pillow.

Next, I go for Royce.

He glares at first, but when I offer him a small shrug and smile, he smirks drunkenly and wobbles to his feet. He’s a little harder to carry inside, but eventually, we make it to his room.

I push him onto the bed and when he makes no moves, I untie his shoes and pull them off for him. He grabs my hand before I can leave and pulls me in so he can kiss my cheek. I give him a wink on my way out, leaving him there to fall asleep.

And last, I go for Maddoc, who still has his dick down the chick’s throat.

I mean ... clearly she’s doing something real fucking wrong if he still hasn’t—

No.

No. Not thinking about that.

I tap her on the shoulder, and she jolts, releasing him with a pop as she jumps to her feet.

Maddoc doesn’t even flinch, not even a blink as he sluggishly drags his eyes to mine.

“You think you’re allowed to get jealous?” he rasps, the alcohol making his tongue slip a bit. “You better reel that shit in quick, Snow. Not sure what role you think you play here, but pathetic girlfriend isn’t it.”

He glances at the girl, then looks pointedly at his dick.

And the chick actually takes a small step for him, ready to drop back to her knees, but when my feet take an involuntary step toward her, she freezes where she stands.

“I got you,” I start, purposely waiting to the last second to pull my glare from hers to his. “You want me to let you entertain this bitch.”

His lips part, ready to pop off, I’m sure, but his drunken state has him a step behind.

“And don’t claim nobody lets you do anything because hear me, big man. I’d pull her and any other girl away from you by her neck, if I wanted.” I look back to the girl whose eyes are wide and rattled. “But I’m thinking that won’t be necessary.”

Her cheeks heat under my stare and she tries to stand tall and proud, but her shoulders hunch instead. She ducks her head before hustling off, as she should.

I shift my eyes back to Maddoc.

He stares, his head still dropped back, dick out and all. But with the shadow of the cabin over him, he’s not completely exposed.

When I make no move, suddenly a little uncertain of how to handle the big man, he shifts his legs and stands to his full height.

His pants slip a little, so he grasps a hold of the waist to keep them up, but he doesn’t tuck himself back into his boxers.

There’s a challenge in his eyes. He doesn’t think I’ll do it, and really there’s no reason for me to, especially when it might still be wet from some bitch’s spit, yet I step forward anyway.