Page 63 of Shattered

I hover, because I know if Trayton is here, then Brayden will be here. I haven’t quite worked out how I’m going to get himon his own yet, but I’ll think about that once I see him. I don’t even know what the fuck I’m going to say to him. I grab a beer from the ice cooler, not planning on drinking it, even if I am gagging for it right now. But that would mean having to lift my mask and there isn’t a chance I’m risking that. Trayton laughing draws my attention to him as Kal throws his head back laughing at something. When Trayton moves to the side, I see who he’s laughing at.

Brayden sitting on the couch with his arm around a flushed Lance, who of course is dressed as some kind of blooded up zombie-looking nerd. Anger fuels me instantly and before I know it, I’m barging through Trayton and Kal. I don’t think about the consequences, I don’t think about anything. The anger and jealousy consume me, and I grab hold of Brayden’s arm, hauling him to his feet, dragging him along with me.

“Bro, get the fuck off me,” Brayden hisses, his voice low and intense, as I pull him away.

“I’m not your fucking bro,” I seethe close to his ear.

Trayton’s sudden grip on my arm spins me around. “You better back the fuck off and let my boy go now before I fuck you up.” My fingers dig into Brayden’s arm, and he removes his mask, revealing dark brown hair matted with sweat. His eyes lock onto mine through the mask.

“Relax.” He smirks at Tray. “I know him.”

Tray’s eyebrows furrow as he studies Bray, then he performs an exaggerated triple blink. Brayden erupts in laughter and returns the peculiar triple blink. Tray’s shoulders slump, and he scrutinizes me from head to toe before grimacing and walking away. Kal stands nearby, brooding, his demeanor suggesting he’s prepared to tear me apart as he eyes my hand, squeezing Brayden’s arm.

“It’s cool,” he says again, and without hesitation, I pull him toward the stairs. As I glance back, I catch Lance observing ourevery step. His gaze lowered. Normally, I’d pity someone like him, but not when he’s laying claim to something that belongs to me.

Fuck that.

Ignoring the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. I pull Brayden toward the far end, pushing past some people who catcall and joke about Jason fucking with Ghostface. The last door leads to a dull cream-colored room with matching carpets, a king-size bed, and bland cream walls. Releasing Brayden, I pivot on my heels and slam the door shut.

“Scary,” Brayden quips sarcastically. I turn to face him, yanking the mask off my face, my eyes drilling into his.

“What the fuck was that downstairs?” I grind out, my patience fraying. “Did you touch him? Kiss him?” My body trembles at the thought of his lips on someone else.

He scrutinizes me, his eyes revealing more than he lets on. He enjoys my jealousy, relishes the fact that I barged in and pulled him away.

“What’s it to you?” he retorts, assessing me as if I’m insignificant. But I catch the glimmer in his eyes. He enjoys the possessiveness.

“What did I warn you?” My voice is edged with determination.

“And what did I say? Stay the fuck away from me. I hate you!” he spits. Closing the gap, I confront him face-to-face, our height difference barely noticeable as his rapid breaths brush my skin.

“There’s something you should already understand, Brayden.” I lower my voice, lips grazing his ear, and he inhales sharply. “I don’t stay away from what’s mine.” His audible gulp echoes in the charged silence; he neither protests nor retreats. I pull back, locking eyes with him, the turmoil evident as his gaze flickers between mine, and he clenches his jaw.I smirk. “You hate me, huh?”

“I can’t fucking stand you.” He tilts his head up, jutting his chin out as he crosses his arms over his chest.

Tilting my head, I squint my eyes, ensuring my stare is locked with his. “Those hooded, ocean eyes that drink up every inch of me while I teach suggest otherwise.” I wink, causing his resolve to slip as his breathing becomes harsher.

“I’m pissed with you,” he mutters weakly, attempting to sound harsh. A smile tugs at my lips, but I suppress it. I know that would only further infuriate him. Truth is, he’s pissed, but not as much as he’d like to be. And truth is, he couldn’t hate me, even if he tried.

“I know,” I reply, my jaw clenching as I glance around the room. “I’ve apologized at least ten times now.”

His jaw ticks, and he gazes down, then back up. “Why was she in the classroom earlier?” he huffs.

“To discuss a presentation,” I answer matter-of-factly. His sarcastic eye roll and pursed lips follow. “Nice touch with the text, by the way. Luckily, I didn’t have your name saved. Why do you even care, anyway?” I raise an eyebrow. “You’d rather fuck a pig than touch me again, wouldn’t you?” I challenge. “ Whether Ms. Banksy visited me—it’s irrelevant, isn’t it?”

Brayden inhales deeply, his gaze meeting mine, filled with regret. I understand he didn’t mean what he said that night, but those words still haunt me, driving me to drink myself into a dark hole.

“I—” he huffs, shoulders sagging. “I’m sorry for what I said. I was drunk. I didn’t mean it.” His frown deepens as he stares back into my eyes.

“You’re sorry?” he nods, our eyes locked, and I catch a fleeting glimpse of his gaze on my lips.

“Why don’t you drop to your knees and show me just how sorry you are, Bray?” His eyes widen, mouth opening and closing. I trace my thumb along his bottom lip. “Put this mouthto good use instead of talking shit for once,” I whisper, pressing a kiss against his lips and running my tongue along the edge.

He lazily closes his eyes and sinks to his knees, gazing up at me. As I lift the cape, his hands instantly find my belt, unclipping it and skillfully undoing the buttons. The slight tremor in his hands doesn’t escape my notice, though. My dick is painfully hard as his fingers graze the fabric of my boxers. Pulling down the waistband, he pulls my dick out, and a groan slips from me.

“Fuck,” I stare down at him, he licks his lips, his eyes fixed on my dick and leans forward, licking some of the pre-cum on the tip.

My eyes roll into the back of my head, and I swear I see stars. Brayden on his knees is better than I ever imagined. Warm, wet lips circle over the head of my dick and suck. His tongue grazing the underneath, and I have to grab his hair and pull on it sharply to control myself from tipping over the edge too quickly. Brayden sucks down my dick like a fucking pro and I can’t take my eyes off him. His eyes closed, swallowing my dick. He flicks his tongue on the underneath again and I moan loudly. His eyes flick up, locking with mine as he smiles around my dick, flicking his tongue over my slit.

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