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He slides his hand in my hair, bringing his lips to my ear, and I hold my breath, but no words come. His grip tightens only to fly from me in the next second as he takes a step back.
And then he takes another, all to rush forward in the end, and slam his body into mine.
“If this is some trick, you will lose,” he swears.
“Didn’t I already?”
“Is that how you feel?”
“Yes.”
His face twists, and he rumbles, deep and low, “Good.”
With that, he’s gone, but I’ve got a feeling a piece of that control he mentioned earlier broke off somewhere between the parking lot and here.
I give myself a second to breathe, walk into class, and drop into my desk.
Sensing Raven’s eyes on me, I turn toward her, and she shifts in her seat to face me full-on.
“I can’t trust you.” She frowns, confusion etched across her face. “So why the hell am I rooting for you?”
My shoulders ease, and she shakes her head.
“Fuck this up, Vee, and I can’t help you, even if I decide I want to. These boys...” She trails off, knowing she doesn’t have to say it.
“They’re your family, Raven. I get it.” I lean toward her, quickly glancing to her stomach and back. “But so am I, and I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you choose me, too.”
She glares before a small smile ghosts her lips and she faces forward to hide it. “You better.”
From his seat on the other side of Raven, Royce makes sure to catch my eye.
“Don’t forget, our bite?” A dark brow raises. “It’s much worse than our bark.”
“I thought wolves howled?”
“Don’t be cute.” He flashes. “Be smart.”
In other words...
Be Brayshaw.
The heavy thud of the door slamming against the wall as it’s thrown open has everyone’s attention snapping toward the front of the room.
Every muscle in my body locks, my neck likely burning a bright fucking red as Captain comes strolling in and in no particular hurry, a little glare testing across his forehead.
The teacher pauses, saying not a word as he does, knowing if she did it would only mean trouble for her.
I don’t have to look to know every eye in this room has shifted this way.
Captain plants one firm palm on my desk, leaning over until I’m forced to look up.
He knows I hate this... which is exactly why he’s doing it.
He grips the back of my neck, bringing his mouth to mine so he can speak against my lips, quiet and only for me. “You asked to be mine, that means you don’t look, talk, touch anyone else. Do you understand?”
“No one else...” I whisper, intentionally ignoring his entire point. “Does this mean I’ve got the golden stamp to touch you?”
“My knuckles are brass, beauty. I’ve got no use for anything golden.”
I don’t miss how his eyes cut to my hair as he says it, and his comment about Mallory flashes in my head.
He pushes to his full height, a sick satisfaction gleaming in his blue-green eyes as he gets set to push his point, making me the center of attention.
To piss me off.
Captain’s command is purposeful and clear, and loud enough for all to hear.
“Behave.”
Shit head.Chapter 11Captain“I’m fucked.” I plant my ass onto the bleacher beside Maddoc.
“Let me guess, you wanna wring her fuckin’ neck, then lick the bruises?” he gives me a quick side smirk, laughing at my expression.
Because yes, exactly fucking that.
“I don’t know, man. Thought she’d fight me, not—”
“Fight for you?” Maddoc lifts a brow.
I nod.
“Why don’t you lock her ass in a room with the fake file we have on her, and force her to talk?”
I scoff. “I lock myself in a room with that girl and there will be no talking.”
“That bad?” Royce drops beside us, nodding for a towel.
I toss him one. “I caged her in the first fucking night, ready to just—”
“Go to pound town?” Royce laughs.
I chuckle. “Ended up telling her I wanted to bend her over.”
Both grin, only for their jaws to drop when I add, “So I could picture Mallory while I fucked her.”
The shock hits but wears off quick and they bust up laughing.
“That’s cold, my man.” Royce grins, proud, reaching out for a fist bump, but I leave him hanging. “Genius, but cold. I think I’ll take credit for that one.”
Maddoc shakes his head, then shrugs. “Still say if you want her, have her. You don’t have to trust her to fuck her.”
“Damn if that isn’t a true ass statement.” Royce grins. “Only chick I trust is Raven, and she’s ‘bout the only one I can’t fuck,” he jokes, shoving at Maddoc with his elbow.
Maddoc pushes him off the bench and he hops up, laughing.
The bell rings, so we stand with him, gather our shit, and head to the locker room. As we step through the double doors, James Carpo, our former head of security for all Brayshaw operations, comes around the corner in a crisp, black suit.
