Page 35 of Reckless at Westbrook High

That’s not hers anymore.

It’s mine.

I wonder if she knows he wrapped the hand she’s holding around my cock and fucked my mouth with his tongue while he made me come all over his abs.

Probably not.

But I do, and so does he.

He glares again but I don’t stop like he’s warning me to. Instead I bite down on my lip and shift in my seat, taunting him with my eyes because if he wants to fuck with me, I’ll fuck him harder and I’ll make it hurt.

I run a hand over my cock through my jeans and slide my phone back under the table, keeping my eyes on his while I type out a message.

Levi: I want you hard again.

His features tighten and I watch with a sick satisfaction while Freya shifts on his lap, turning her head to look up at him. He’s not looking at her, though. He’s looking at me, desperately trying to keep his shit together while he watches me lick the edge of my straw. She whips her head around to me and I raise a cocky ass brow, silently daring her to say something about it. Her nostrils flare and she opens her mouth to do just that, but then Wren takes her face in his hand and pulls her mouth up to his, kissing her right here in front of me. She moans quietly and he digs his fingers into her back through her top, damn near squeezing the life out of her, but it’s not out of want.

It’s frustration.

He pulls her head back and moves his mouth down to her neck, looking at me over her shoulder while he kisses her there. At first I assume he’s taunting me the same way I did him, but then I catch the look in his eyes, frowning when I realize what he’s saying.

See what you made me do?

Chapter Eleven

Wren

Baby, if anyone’s fucking anyone, it’s gonna be me fucking you.

I groan quietly and scrub a hand over my face, tipping my head back on the couch to blow my smoke up to the stars. I’m agitated and pissed the fuck off, which is why I’m hiding out on my balcony alone, silently cursing Levi fucking Matthews and his dirty fucking mouth – the same mouth I’ve been fantasizing about since he almost made me go off in my jeans with a goddamn straw.

Fuck, he drives me crazy.

He knows exactly how to get under my skin, fucks with my head and taunts me until I’m damn near shaking with need, and I allow it because it’s addictive.

He’s addictive.

Every time I’m around him I crave more, and the harder he pushes me, the harder it’s getting to ignore him.

I don’t want to ignore him.

What I want is to give in to him, admit defeat and let him take whatever the fuck he wants from me, consequences be damned.

I can’t do that, though, not when he has the ability to ruin me for good. I fell off the deep end when Freya broke me, and I’m fucking terrified of what’ll happen if I allow myself to fall for him the same way I did her.

More than the way I did her.

He’s so much fucking more.

My bedroom door opens and I lift my head, expecting it to be Callie or one of the boys, but it’s not. Freya walks inside wearing a thin pair of leggings and a white tank, quietly stepping into the darkness of my room like she’s afraid she’ll spook me if she makes too much noise. She closes the door behind her and turns around, but then she gets a look at the bed and stops where she stands, frowning when she finds it empty.

“Wren?” she whispers, slowly pushing the bathroom door open to look inside.

She turns to look out onto the balcony and I stare at her through the window, cocking my head when she squeals and jumps a mile.

“Jesus,” she hisses, covering her heart with both hands to calm herself down. “What are you doing out there?”

“What are you doing in there?” I throw back, raising a brow when she shrugs and looks down at her toes.

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