Page 82 of Break Me (Brayshaw High 5)

I frown and she chuckles.

“Trust me, boy.” She smiles and walks away.Chapter 22RoyceBrielle’s little freak-out sent everything to shit earlier today, but we’re used to things going off course, so we rested and rallied and here we are, round two-ing it only a handful of hours later.

The plan was always to be slick with this guy, catch him alone so we could do what was necessary to get the truth out of him, especially since we’re playing the waiting game on the other half of this issue. I might be reckless and wild, but that’s because I don’t give a shit. I am fully fucking capable of being careful and smooth when I have to be. Sort of.

I mean I am sipping on a bottle of water right now, but as Brielle walks into the room, a bottle of whiskey starts to sound real fucking nice.

The blood in my veins runs warm, and calls for a mandatory long, slow review of the five-foot, lively little thing.

Tight black pants that reach above her belly button, hiding the piercing I got a better—not at all good enough—look at when she stripped her top off at the water, and making me want to know what’s under there even more. Her shirt reaches where her pants end and is a plain, solid red, the same exact shade her lips are tinted tonight. Shiny and plump.

Speaking of plump, that ass.

Fuck me, that. Ass.

Peachy and round.

How’d she fit the thing in that bikini?

She shifts, glancing around the room, stretching her slender neck to see beyond where her frame allows.

She’s so tiny, I could lift her ass up—literally.

Yeah, I could get it nice and high, and right against the wall, high enough to put her sweet pussy level with my mouth. I’d start with my tongue, slide it out and between her legs, free her clit of her lips and suck it between mine.

I’d bite her, but just a little.

Yeah, she’d like that. Know she would.

I groan, stretching my leg out and only then do I realize hands slipped over my thigh, inching toward my junk.

I blink, spotting a heap of blonde hair leaning near my face, a shoulder that’s too broad to be my baby girl’s in my space.

Maddoc catches my eye from his seat beneath Raven and pointedly looks to my hand, clutched tight on the arm of the chair. I let go, instead curving it around Grace’s back as she sits on an ice chest to my right.

Grace. Yeah, that’s this chick’s name, but I don’t know why she’s over here.

Nobody invited her to sit.

Grace looks over her shoulder, grinning at me, and lowers her cup to her lap. “You know I’m willing to get out of here if you are.”

A laugh leaves me and my head falls to the side. “You’d give me what you got without making me earn it?”

I tense.

The fuck’d I just say?

Her expression mimics my inner thoughts, but she attempts to laugh it off. “I’d say it’s well earned.”

Right. Because of my name and the bragging rights that come along with it.

They want it.

Yeah, they. ‘Cause she’s just one of many, and I’m the guy that made it clear it’s an easy thing to accomplish.

Wanna fuck a Brayshaw? Go for the fucked-up one with tattoos you could never understand and a mind you could never live inside, a soul you could never reach. One and done.

You don’t have to get to know him, you don’t even have to like him, and the chump won’t even care, he’s that detached.

“Hey, Brielle.” Captain’s voice is loud, pulling me from my thoughts and forcing me into right now.

Brielle is right in front of us.

She waves at Captain, says hi to Raven and Victoria, and turns to me.

“Hey.” She grins and my thigh muscles clench.

I tip my chin, bringing my water to my lips.

“Hi.” Grace leans closer to me, and I wait for a sign from Brielle.

You want her away from me?

Brielle fucking smiles at her—no bitter, jealous mouth twist or calculated look in her eyes. Nothing but a damn smile, a genuine smile. “Grace, right? I think you’re in my English class,” she says.

My eyes cut to Maddoc’s.

Grace is silent at first, and then she sits forward. “Oh my god, yes! You convinced the teacher to allow us to use our notebooks for the final essay!”

She laughs with a shrug. “I casually reminded him the scores of his less-than-interested class would reflect on him as a teacher and might not look so good during raise and review time.”

“Girl, you saved my ass from getting my credit card taken away.” Grace giggles. “Hey, you want to get a drink, I could use a refill?”

Brielle opens her mouth, but then closes it, glancing over her shoulder. I can’t see behind her, but when she looks back, unease lines her eyes and her fingers slip through her shiny, metallic-like hair, gliding through it nearer her temple as she likes to do when she’s thinking, unsure. Nervous.