Stone Cold Queen: Sick Boys Book 2

by Smoke , Lucy

  “That’s right, baby,” he pants in my ear, the sound of his deep, masculine voice tight as he keeps fucking me. “Come around my cock. Clench that sweet pussy on me.” The dirty talk does something for me because I haven’t even touched my clit and my whole body tightens as that orgasm racks up another notch. My eyes roll back into my head, and I shudder as he drives in and out of me.

  I can’t breathe. I can’t see. I can’t do anything but feel as he powers forth, thrusting into me until his movements pick up speed, and then suddenly, he stills within me. His hands come down hard on my hips and grip, holding tight as he spills himself inside of me. The wash of his hot cum fills me up. Another groan leaves my lips, and he half collapses against me. My bare chest rubbing against the wall as he tries to catch his breath at my back.

  His mouth touches my shoulder, skimming back and forth as if he can’t help himself, and then, in his raspiest voice yet, he speaks. “Stay, baby,” he says. “Please. Just stay.”

  I hate him. I hate the way he makes me feel. The way he drives me insane with lust. The way he can get me off so easily. But I hate most of all that I want to do as he says. I want to stay. I blow out a breath and give in, letting my forehead press the wall.

  “For now,” I tell him. “I’ll stay … for now.”

  23

  Avalon

  I push open the double doors from Greavers Hall—one of the many buildings set up for exams—and take a step into the fresh air. The hot sun pounds down at me, and I take a moment to reach into my bag and find the cheap shades I've had for years and slide them onto my face, blocking out the worst of the blinding light.

  If it weren't for the fact that the guys all have their own exams to take as well as meetings with their football coach to discuss summer practices before the start of football season next semester, I wouldn't be alone. I'm thankful, though, that I am when the sound of a loud, barking laugh catches my attention as I descend the steps.

  My eyes trail over and spot two familiar heads pressed together. Neither of them are laughing, though. That noise comes from two brunette freshmen walking past with their arms interlocked. I ignore the girls and focus on the two that I recognize. What the hell is Rylie doing with Jake?

  I watch as Jake nods and then pulls out a few bills wrapped in a rubber band and hands them over. Rylie takes it, and without counting it, slips it into her bag, and then starts talking. My feet begin to move on their own as my curiosity and suspicion mounts.

  "Avalon!" I freeze at the shout of a new—albeit also familiar—voice.

  Rylie's head comes up, and she spots me across the way. When she doesn't blink but says something that has Jake jerking his head up, and over my way, I arch a brow. Jake frowns and then turns back to her quickly. She nods at whatever it is that he says, and then Jake is turning, waving my way, and striding away like the coward that he is. He knows I want to know what the fuck that was all about, but he's running.

  Rylie, on the other hand, crosses her arms over her petite chest and arches a brow back. I start across the sidewalk when a feminine hand latches onto my arm. I freeze. Shit, I'd momentarily forgotten about the girl calling after me. I look down at Corina as she pants and gasps for breath. Once again, she's dressed to kill in a light summer dress, wedge heels that she must have been running in if she's so out of breath, and teardrop-shaped earrings.

  "I was calling for you," she pants. "Why didn't you answer?"

  "Got nothing to say, Cor," I snap and then shift my arm in her grasp. "Let go."

  She does so immediately. "Well, in light of recent events, I'm not going to take that comment personally," she huffs, pushing the strands of her hair back out of her flushed face.

  I roll my eyes. "Take it personally, or don't," I reply. "Doesn't matter to me. Later."

  "Wait!" she half-shrieks as she dives for my arm once more. "I still need to talk to you."

  I tip my face slowly down until I'm, once a-fucking-gain, staring at where her perfectly polished nails are resting on my person. "Do you want to keep that hand?" I ask, keeping my tone even.

  She must have lost a few brain cells since we last spoke, because she ignores the question. Instead, she chooses to latch on even harder and look up at me imploringly. "I know you're still upset with me," she says.

  "No, Corina," I stop her. "I'm not upset. I just don't give a fuck anymore. We're not friends." I extract my arm from her grasp, and though she takes on a wounded look, she doesn't back away.

  "But I want us to be," she says, her brows lowering over her eyes as her bottom lip juts out slightly. That might work on guys, but it doesn't work on me.

  "You can want whatever," I say with a shrug. "Doesn't mean you always get what you want."

  "Ava." She sighs. "I just came to invite you to my end of the year party. Please come. It's my birthday."

  "Hard pass." I turn to go.

  "No!" She must have a death wish or something because Corina has obviously lost her fucking mind. She throws herself at my back and nearly sends me sprawling onto the ground. Without thinking, I reach back, sinking a hand into her styled hair and yank. A gasp escapes her lips, and her back bows as she tries to keep me from ripping out the strands.

  "Looks like you have to learn the fucking hard way," I spit. "I don't want shit to do with you anymore."

  "You have to believe me, Ava," she pleads, her hands going to her hair as she holds the roots down to try to alleviate the pain in her scalp. She winces, but her resolve remains strong. Her eyes grow steely as she looks up at me. "I had nothing to do with Kate and Luc. I didn't know Kate was going to do that," she insists. "Take that picture and send it to Dean."

  Well, that explains Dean's reaction at Eastpoint's beach estate, I think, but it also doesn't absolve her.

  "Please come to my party," she says. "You can even bring the Sick Boys. Nothing bad could happen if they're there, right?" She softens her face and sighs. "I do want to be your friend, Avalon. Would I really be trying this hard if I didn't mean it?"

  I clench my hand automatically out of irritation, and she winces. Realizing it, I immediately release her and take a step back, glaring at her the whole way. I don't trust her and more, I don't know if I want to. Even if she'd been an unwitting accomplice, the fact is she does have ties to Luc Kincaid, and Dean hates Luc. I don't necessarily give a single fuck about their feud, but I’m mad at Kincaid's fiancée. Dean's ex is a bitch who needed to be taken down off of her pedestal.

  An idea forms in my mind, and even if I wanted to, I couldn't have stopped the evil grin that spread across my face. "Alright," I concede.

  Corina pauses as she straightens and tries to fix her hair. "Alright?" she repeats. "You'll come?"

  "Yeah, why not?" I force my tone to remain even. "On one condition."

  She brightens and leaps towards me, though I notice, this time, she keeps her hands to herself. "Name it," she says.

  "Invite Kate Coleman."

  Her mouth drops open in shock. "K-Kate Coleman?" she repeats the name, stumbling over it in her surprise. I nod. After a moment, she eyes me speculatively. "Can I ask why?"

  I shrug. "You're welcome to ask, but that doesn't mean you'll get an answer."

  Corina bites down on her lower lip, chewing on it as she tries to consider her options. "Just Kate?" she confirms. "Not Luc?"

  "Was Luc involved in the picture?"

  Corina shakes her head. "Absolutely not. Luc doesn't like Dean, and maybe he was being rude to you because of that, but Luc isn't a bad person. There's no way he'd be involved in anything like that."

  I didn't know about that, but the way she says it makes it clear that she firmly believes that her cousin is innocent. "Fine," I say. "Then, no, just Kate."

  "And then we'll be friends again?" she asks hesitantly.

  What is this? Fucking middle school? I think. I resist another eye roll. It'll take a lot more than inviting Kate Coleman to her birthday party so I can dish out my own brand of revenge on the stupid bitch, but i
t's a start. "We'll see," I tell her.

  "Okay, I'll do it," Corina agrees with a nod. "But please, don't set any more cars on fire—I heard about that."

  I choose my words carefully as I respond. "I promise," I say. "I won't set any cars on fire at your party."

  She doesn't seem to realize all of the loopholes I've left myself with that statement. Instead, it seems to calm her. She nods again. "Okay," she says. "Alright. I'll text you the details later." Corina backs up a step, but before she turns and walks away, she settles her gaze on me and gives me a soft smile. "We're going to be friends, Ava. I hope you see that."

  My mouth opens to respond, but she doesn't give me a chance. She just turns around and walks away. I stare after her, watching the way she hurries curiously. There's something about Corina Harrison that makes me wonder. Is everything that she presents just a front? Or is she really just a simple-minded rich girl with an obvious need for human connection?

  I don't know, but as I turn back towards the street, and realize that in the time since Corina's distraction, Rylie still hasn't left. At least one of my so-called friends has the balls to face me after they've betrayed me. I take a step off the sidewalk and head straight for my new target.

  * * *

  "So," I say as I approach her, "Jake, huh?"

  Her green-hazel eyes roll. "It's not like that," she says. "I'm not fucking him."

  I hum in the back of my throat, stopping a few feet away as I tilt my head and look down at her. I'm by no means a giant, but Rylie is as petite as they come. Hell, I'd be shocked if she was taller than five feet even. The top of her head barely hits my nose.

  "Then tell me," I suggest. "What is it like? What's he passing you money for, Ry? I don't take you for the drug dealing type."

  A scowl curves her lips down, and this time when she looks at me, it's with a cutting edge. "Watch it," Ry snaps. "You may be their little princess," she snaps, "but I don't take orders from you."

  I step towards her, stopping only when the tips of my shoes hit the tips of her boots. "First of all," I say slowly, "don't ever fucking call me princess again. Secondly, just tell me one thing—are you or are you not dealing?" I hadn't seen any exchange aside from the money, but that could've happened before I noticed their presence. I meant it when I said she doesn't seem the type to deal, but then again, I haven't always been the best judge of character, and she's not being forthcoming. In fact, she's acting mighty defensive and almost combative. Very unlike her.

  "I'm not fucking dealing," Rylie snaps, taking a step back and averting her eyes. "But I don't need to tell you what I'm doing. You don't need to know everything about every-fucking-body."

  I watch her for a moment more, trying to figure out if she's lying or not. It's difficult. Girls like Rylie know their tells—she's more like me than I care to admit, but that also makes it easier to try and understand her. We're both girls from the ghetto. We know how to lie—to police, to social workers, and to each other. So even though I can't tell if she's lying or not, there's nothing in her mannerisms right now that makes me think it's anything dangerous.

  I take a step back. "Fine," I concede.

  Her head swings back my way, and her eyes widen in surprise. "You're just going to let it go?" she asks.

  I shrug. "I'm not completely unreasonable," I reply, earning a snort from her when she laughs lightly. "Besides, I have more important matters to discuss with you."

  Her laugh dries up. Her shoulders stiffen. Rylie squares her jaw and locks eyes with me. She knows what that matter is. "Alright, then," she says. "Let's have it out. You're pissed that I was keeping an eye on you for the Sick Boys."

  Pissed? Pissed doesn't even begin to describe the anger I feel. But all I can manage to grit out through the reminder of her betrayal is one word. "Why?"

  "Not all of us have a choice, Ava," she begins. "You can't just tell the Sick Boys 'no.' Well"—She pauses and rolls her eyes up and down my form—"maybe you can get away with it, but I can't. I fly under the radar," she says. "I told you that. Turning them down would not have gone over well for me. I still don't understand how you managed it."

  She thinks I managed it? Jesus H. Christ. She's right. There is no telling the Sick Boys 'no.' One way or another, they get you. And Dean Carter is the worst offender. I'm living in Dean Carter's house, for fuck's sake. Something she damn well knows since she used to be my roommate, and yet she doesn't see it that way.

  When I don't say anything, she finally ends her excuse with a measly. "You can say 'no' and they might listen, but I don't have that luxury."

  They didn't listen, the fucking assholes. Or if they did, then it was through selective hearing. I sigh. Fuck, I wanted to keep being mad at her, but I get it. I mean, I suppose I can still be a little mean, but with her words, I'm nowhere near the earlier version of anger that I'd been holding onto.

  "You're still a bitch for selling me out," I mutter, jamming my hands into my pockets.

  She shrugs like she expected that response.

  Though it feels like this conversation is drawing to an end, I don't walk away just yet. There's something more I need to know before I go. Something I need to confirm. I can understand her keeping an eye on me for them—especially under duress. But I need to make sure ... after that talk she and I had in the bathroom, that her surveillance ended with only what she may have seen.

  "Did you tell them everything?" I ask.

  Her head lifts, and she raises her hands to the straps of her bag, black painted fingernails locking around the nylon. "I just kept an eye on you, Ava," she says. "Anything else ... well, it's none of their fucking business unless you make it their business."

  Relief pours through me. My phone beeps. Time's up. Dean's probably done with his last exam and is likely looking for me. "Thanks," I say with a nod.

  "Don't thank me," she replies. "I didn't do anything for you."

  No, I suppose she needs to see it that way. After all, in our world, if you do someone a favor, you're owed one back. She doesn't want me to owe her. I take a step back and another and another, until I'm walking backwards, not knowing exactly where I'm going.

  "See ya later, Ry," I call out.

  She lifts a hand and waves and then turns and disappears into a mass of students piling out of the Greavers building I just left not too long ago. Rylie Moore is a hell of a lot more loyal than she lets on, and damn it, I really didn't want to like her when I first met her, but now I think I kind of do.

  24

  Dean

  Avalon's waiting for me beside my SUV like a good girl when I get out of my last exam. Her cheap-ass sunglasses with cracks in the temples cover her eyes. I hit the unlock button on my key fob and when I expect her to start at the sound of the doors unlocking, she surprises me once again by defying my expectations and turns towards me with a frown.

  "Hey, baby," I say, curling one arm around her side as I press her back into the passenger side door of my ride. I grind myself against her front as I tip her chin back and press a chaste kiss to her full lips. "Miss me?"

  "Not even a little bit." She deadpans. "We need to talk."

  I groan, letting my head sink back on my shoulders as I look up to the sky. With any of my past girlfriends, the second they'd said something like 'we need to talk' with that tone, I'd have dumped them without a second thought or a backwards glance. Avalon is different, though. Which means I gotta put up with being pussy-whipped.

  I sigh and drop my head back down to her, looking her over. Just because I can't fucking help myself—and also because I doubt I'll be feeling too amorous after she gets done saying whatever she's probably been planning to say since I fucked her into an agreement to stay—I swoop down and push her lips open. Sinking my tongue inside, I let my hands drift up and sink into the mass of dark hair, holding tight as I take her mouth like a goddamn Viking. I plunge into her, eliciting a small moan from her throat. Fuck, I love that sound.

  My baby, though, she's not the type to sit back and
let me do all of the work. No, she kisses like she fights—hard and lethal. Her tongue touches mine, dueling with it as she moves against me. Her body does this little roll thing, shoving her breasts and hips against me in a movement of need. I don't even think she's aware that she does it, but it's hot as hell, and it makes me want her all the more.

  She pulls back, and I move to follow, only to stop and growl as her sharp little teeth bite down on my lower lip. The sting doesn't calm me, though. No, it only makes the blood pump faster in my veins. What I wouldn't do to open the back door to my SUV right now, shove her ass in and rip her jeans so I can thrust my cock into what I'm sure is a wet, juicy pussy. Avalon's tongue soothes over the wound she made on my lip, and I taste blood, realizing that she had, in fact, bitten me hard enough to break skin.

  My thoughts are only consumed with getting into her right fucking now. I maneuver her down the side of my SUV, until my hand reaches up, clamping against the handle of the back door, and just as I'm about to rip it open and follow through with my delicious Avalon entranced daydreams, a low whistle sounds at my back.

  Avalon yanks her head back and rips her sunglasses down to glare at me as her chest rises and falls. I pull away at a slightly slower pace. When she scowls at me and attempts to move away, I grab her hips and keep her pressed against me.

  "Give me a moment," I order as I try to get my raging cock under control.

  "You can have plenty," she snaps. "As many as you want—away from me."

  "Nope." I settle my hips firmly against hers. "You made this happen, you gotta deal with it too, baby."