Arm Candy Warrior: A Dark High School Romance (The Heights Crew Book 2)

by E. M. Moore

  He backs up and turns before slowly lowering me to the couch. I arch into him, drawing his head back to my breast. He quickly flicks his tongue across my nipple several times until I grind against him. His stupid pants are in my way, so I use my feet to push them lower. When I can’t quite get the grip on them I need, I use my hands, pushing them down, before grabbing his ass and forcing him to my core.

  “Fuck me,” Johnny shivers. He presses down until we’re fucking grinding like we’re actually having sex, except we’re not. I cup Johnny through his boxers, and he jerks. “Fuuuck.”

  He’s bigger than a handful. Much bigger. Hard. Straining. I slip my hands under the waistband of his boxers and run my palm down his hard ridges. Pre-cum brushes over my wrist. He pushes into my grip, then slides back, his hot mouth encasing my breast again.

  Leaning on one hand for support, he reaches up to pull my dress out of the way and move my panties down. I kick them off once they’re past my knees, and Johnny and I lock gazes. I run my fingers along the top of his boxers and then slide them over his hips, finally freeing his dick. I stroke him toward me. He’s so close, I can almost feel him. I lift my hips, searching for him. The silky skin of his head brushes over my entrance, and I lose all thought. My fingers sink into the skin of his ass, pulling him toward me like a crazed druggie looking for her next fix.

  Johnny pulls back. I’m so shocked that I peek up at him. His whole demeanor has changed. The air in the room shifting already, going from fuck me now to I need a breather. “Johnny, don’t stop.”

  He drops his head to my chest. His hot breath coats my already wet nipples.

  “We can’t,” he breathes out.

  Frustration rears its ugly head, but I try to think clearly. I place my palms on his cheeks and make him look at me. “I want you,” I say. “I’m with you. Not your dad or the Crew or some stupid rule.” I lick my swollen lips. Surely, he can’t want to stop now. He was just eating me up. “I want you inside me. I’m dying for it.”

  He slides his palm down his length, angling his head toward my entrance. He presses into my clit, and I gasp. He circles the head of his cock there until my core clenches. I grip his ass again, waiting until the teasing relents and he pushes inside, but instead, he sighs. This time, his expel of air is angrier. “Fuck.” He releases his dick and swirls his thumb over my clit, making rapid circles.

  I blink at him. Don’t get me wrong, it feels fucking amazing, but he’s not going to fuck me, and I’m—I’m…Christ, I don’t know. “Johnny?”

  “I’m going to make you come.” His brow pulls together as he focuses on my clit. He flicks his tongue over my nipple again, but it doesn’t have the same effect. I push his hand out of the way and try to sit up.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s okay,” I tell him, trying to pull my dress back up so my tits aren’t in his face. I press my knees together and attempt to squirm my way out from underneath him.

  The throb between my legs tells me my body hates me right now, but Big Daddy K is not going to rule my bedroom. I’m drawing the fucking line there.

  Johnny sits back and presses a hand to my thigh. “Stop trying to get away from me.”

  My face flushes. I just threw myself at him, and he…turned me down? I try not to think about how he was all too willing to stick his cock inside the girl at the dress shop. I know this has nothing to do with that. This has everything to do with his loyalty to his Crew. His dad laid the law down. He follows it. He doesn’t think beyond that.

  “I fucking want you,” he growls, pinning me in place.

  I can’t find anything to say to him. I can’t tell him I don’t give a fuck about the Crew or that I’m not following the Crew’s stupid rules and never have been. He might see through me. The only thing that’s changed in this scenario is me. I should’ve known he would’ve put a stop to it. “It was dumb,” I say. “Forget it.”

  “It’s not,” he bites out. “I’m going to spend my life between these legs,” he says, caressing his fingers down my thighs and back up again. “Just not yet.”

  Instead of placating me, his words piss me off. It’s my shit, and I should have the say in what happens. “Is your father always going to be in our bedroom?”

  His face reddens. He grapples with his anger, maybe, hopefully, because of the conversation we just had. Now I just have to see which side wins. “I told you I’d make you come. Didn’t I the other night? I’ll do that,” he says seductively, trailing his fingers toward my core again. “I’ll bury my face in your pussy. I’ll do whatever you want. Just not this.”

  “That’s a shame,” I say, anger and embarrassment mixing inside of me for a tumultuous cocktail of emotions. “Because all I want is your cock inside me.”

  His shoulders sag forward. He’s a sight to see. I’m sure we both are, staring at one another half-naked. He moves forward again, dropping his head to my shoulder. His hot breath caresses my skin there. “Everything you say is perfect.” He presses his lips briefly to my collarbone. “You make it so damn difficult to be a good little soldier.”

  I close my eyes, taking in his words. This is the second time he’s insinuated things about his dad. That maybe he doesn’t look up to him as much as I thought he did. Or as much as everyone else thinks he does. I want him to keep talking about it, but I don’t want to pry either. Johnny always takes giant leaps backward when I do that. He’s not used to anyone caring about anything that isn’t surface level. Like he said, being a good soldier boy is the only thing anyone cares about.

  The sexy moment is gone, I quickly realize. He’s not going to fuck me, and honestly, I don’t want him to now, anyway. I shift to my side, facing him, and he mirrors me. Vulnerability skates across his face. Crinkles deepen the corners of his eyes, and a bone-deep tiredness sags off him. I press my hand to his chest, and he looks up at me. He frets over his lip. “I’ve never had someone I actually thought twice about before. I don’t know what it is about you, but you make me question everything.”

  “You can talk to me about stuff, you know?” I say, starting out small. I don’t need to push his boundaries too far right now. “I think that’s how this works.”

  I gesture between me and him, and he huffs. “I wouldn’t know. This life is all I know, and for some fucking reason, it feels like you’re pulling me out of it instead of me guiding you into it.”

  “I…” I blow out a breath. I have no idea what to say to that. Everything I say could be wrong.

  Johnny drags a hand through his dark hair. “For the first time, I don’t fucking understand something my dad’s told me to do. I don’t know why he fucking cares if we fuck or not. Other than that, he’s just…fuck. I don’t know.”

  His mind works. Different emotions cross his face like he’s coming to the right conclusions, but as soon as they’re about to break through the surface, he takes a step back.

  “He won’t know if we do,” I say, hoping I don’t sound like I’m begging. This just feels important. It’s not about wanting sex with Johnny, even though I really do. It’s about Johnny proving to himself that he doesn’t have to listen to everything his dad says. The Crew does not own him.

  “But I’ll know,” Johnny says, locking eyes with me. “I don’t lie to him. Period.”

  I search his gaze and find a stark contrast from the guy who second-guesses to the one who doesn’t lie. He means those five words more than anything. And I can’t blame him, really. His father is all he knows. He’s been his only parent for the majority of his life. Of course, he trusts him absolutely. It’ll take more than me throwing myself at him to get him to break that pact.

  A knock comes on the door. Johnny sighs and shouts over his shoulder, “Give us a minute!” When he looks back at me, instead of scowling about the intrusion, he says, “That’s probably Mag sent here by my father.”

  “I guess you better get dressed then.”

  He lowers his gaze. “It’s you I’m worried about.” He pulls my spaghe
tti straps back up, while I carefully stow away my breasts again. He finds my panties by our feet, and instead of giving them back to me, he pockets them, winking. “To remind me of what I could have had.”

  He stands, then reaches out to help me up. He pulls me to my feet, and I arrange my dress, so I look like I did before things got hot and heavy between us. The ripped seams give me a little more room in this dress, anyway. Johnny does the same, leaving his suit jacket off, but tucking his button-down shirt back in and buttoning and zipping his pants into place.

  “Alright, come in,” he finally calls out.

  Magnum walks into the room. He focuses on Johnny, but I’m not naïve enough to think he doesn’t understand what he just interrupted. “Your dad’s brought Dunnegan in. They’ve been waiting for you.”

  Johnny picks up my hand and kisses it, his lips lingering as he locks gazes with me. “I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

  Well, that’s my life now, isn’t it?

  Johnny walks from the room, but Mag lingers. In a regular voice, he asks, “Is there anything I can do?” I give him a look, but when we both hear the door across the hall click shut, Mag closes the door, securing us together in Johnny’s suite. He lowers his voice even though there are now two doors separating us from them. “I was a dick earlier. I’m sorry.” He looks me up and down, and I swear he can tell I’m not wearing any underwear. He nods to himself. “You can’t let Big Daddy K know you—” He gestures toward me. Or maybe a little toward my pussy. It’s hard to tell. He drops his gaze, but then immediately moves it back up. “—You fucked. You’ll be out before you know it. No fighting. No Johnny. Or Oscar and Brawler for that matter.”

  “We didn’t,” I say, automatically, only because I’m so shocked that’s what he’s brought up after apologizing for his behavior earlier. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “It’s the whole Crew’s business, Kyla. You don’t think everyone knows what the deal is with you two? That’s how Big Daddy keeps everyone on the straight and narrow. Trust me, there are more than a few people who’d love to see Johnny get taken down, so be careful who sees what. You’re a target for everyone. Johnny haters. Johnny lovers. Johnny’s enemies.”

  “So, you’re saying I’m screwed?”

  “I’m saying you should have listened to me when I said I could get you out.”

  His threat lingers in the air, but it doesn’t faze me. I’m the one who put myself in this position, and I wouldn’t have done it if I was going to run away scared. I don’t have time for that.

  12

  Like yesterday, Oscar meets me at the front of the school. The crowd parts for him as he makes his way to the sleek black car. Magnum and I haven’t spoken the entire trip here. There’s so much he already knows that I’m scared to say anything more that he can use against me. He picks up on the littlest things, so I’ve done nothing but stare out the window the whole drive. Now, I’m preoccupied again as Oscar Drego swaggers his way across the sidewalk. He tilts his head to the side as if he’s asking what the hell I’m still doing in the car, and I realize I could be getting out, but I was too distracted. By him. And his cocksure attitude.

  I push the door open, but before I get out, Mag asks, “I’ll pick you up after? Take you guys to the gym?”

  “Yeah,” I say distractedly. I even remembered to bring gym clothes today. It’s practically the only thing in my backpack besides a notebook and a pen. Johnny was right when he called school in the Heights a farce.

  I go to get out, but Magnum speaks again. His voice is low, making me strain to hear. I even turn toward him to watch his lips move. “Remember what I said about people watching.” He drags his gaze to Oscar and then back to me. “Just be careful.”

  “I will.” My throat is suddenly dry because I know I didn’t even handle myself well already this morning. As soon as I saw Oscar, all rational thought went out the window, and I practically drooled all over myself.

  Oscar leans into the car, flashing a smile at me. “What’s up, Mag? Princess and I are ready for another intellectually stimulating day at Rawley Heights High.”

  “I bet,” Mag says. “I’m sure nothing’s changed.”

  Oscar moves back so I can get out. We keep an appropriate distance between us as we head to the front entrance. Sneaking a glance over my shoulder, I ask, “Mag went to school here?”

  “Born and raised. You can’t tell?”

  I shake my head. Honestly, he looks a little squeaky clean for the Heights. It must be his security persona because I can’t see him walking the halls of this school, acting like most of the guys my age.

  “Trust me. You do not want to fuck with him. Why do you think he’s top security dog? They don’t just hand that position to anybody.”

  I cast a glance over my shoulder once more to find Magnum still where we left him. He’s pitched forward in his seat, watching us as we make our way past security. His face is blank, serious. He moves his gaze to mine, and it doesn’t waver until Oscar and I are ushered past the metal detectors and into the shitty school.

  As soon as we get past that, trouble waits for us. Today, there aren’t just other students walking the halls, I also see the guy who has the nerve to call himself our principal. Oscar and I skirt around him while he has his back to us, but just as we’re about to escape unnoticed, the figure he’s talking to comes into view.

  “Son of a bitch,” Oscar curses under his breath.

  My sentiments exactly. Detective Reynolds is chatting up the principal. Oscar and I both try to duck our heads, but it’s too late. He’s already seen us. “Oscar Drego and Miss Samson. Just who I wanted to see.”

  “Save it,” Oscar says. He’s perfected that bored as fuck voice like he looks down at anyone attempting to talk to him. “We’re not talking to you.”

  “No?” the detective asks. A glint lights his eyes. “Actually, you, we’re taking downtown. It’s Miss Samson we’re talking to.”

  Oscar laughs. The sound is so incredulous and laced with humor that a sliver of apprehension races up my spine. I peek over at Oscar. Dark, indignant eyes latch onto the detective’s. “What is it this time?”

  Detective Reynolds smooths out his tie. Watching him and Oscar respond to one another is like watching a battle of who can look the least affected. “Someone pulled away from a convenience store early this morning without paying for gas. Thief matches your description.”

  Oscar shakes his head. He turns toward me while the sea of students go out and around us. They act like they’re not listening, but they are. This is juicy gossip to them. “Detective Reynolds just wants a way to get to you.”

  “Detective,” the principal finally says. “You can’t just come in here and—”

  Reynolds raises a hand. “We know you’re in the Heights Crew’s pockets. Shut it.”

  A uniformed cop strides into the school. He reaches around his back and brings out a pair of cuffs that glimmer under the fluorescent lights. “Turn, Drego,” Detective Reynolds instructs. “You know the drill.”

  I look on, helplessly. Oscar turns, placing his hands behind his back. He gives me a wink, but I can tell he’s pissed. How many times has this happened to him? How many unfounded times? Go, he mouths. His gaze quickly portrays panic now that he’s not putting on a show for everyone. Now.

  I take another look of him being handcuffed; my feet rooted in place. I grew up to respect police, and honestly, I am on the wrong side here. But not Oscar. Oscar’s on the right side. Using this bullshit about him stealing gas just to get me alone is wrong.

  Oscar gives me another pleading look, so this time, I do spin on my heel and merge with the crowd.

  “Hey, hey!” Detective Reynolds calls out behind me.

  The crowd swallows me up, and as a unit, we all start running. The barricade of bodies impresses me. Even more so because they did this without being asked. “Hide,” someone urges.

  “Fucking pigs,” another grunts.

  To me, runni
ng makes it seem like I’m guilty of something. It’s the exact opposite of what I was brought up to do. I should be listening to Detective Reynolds demands for me to stop, but I can’t. Over it all, Oscar’s laugh synchronizes with our feet like he’s our escape trumpet, urging us on.

  Before we turn the corner, a louder disturbance erupts behind us. I turn in time to see Magnum Superman punch Detective Reynolds, knocking him to the ground. The angsty crowd cheers, and I raise my eyebrows in kudos. Nice fucking shot. Damn.

  Mag looks over the heads of all the students until he spots me. He steps over Detective Reynolds, who he knocked out cold, and strides toward me. The crowd once again parts, leaving me now that the threat is gone.

  I want to pout. I’m being taken from school again, and who knows if Johnny will let me come back after this. Magnum puts his hand on my shoulder and rushes me toward a set of side doors. Just before we disappear down that hall, I glance over my shoulder to find Oscar shrugging, his hard mask back over his face. I peek at Mag to ask if we’re going to help him out, but Mag only shakes his head like he knows what’s about to come out of my mouth, and he’s already telling me no. The policeman who handcuffed Oscar speaks into his radio while the principal stares at Detective Reynolds’ slumped form on the floor.

  Magnum and I step outside and jog back toward the car. He parked it like he was in a rush. The front passenger tire is up on the sidewalk and the driver’s side door is open. He ushers me inside and then runs around the side of the car to get in himself. “You punched a cop,” I say, as soon as he slides in.

  He doesn’t react to my statement. Instead, he says, “I saw the bastard parked around the corner like I wasn’t going to notice. I came back as soon as I could.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re going to be in so much trouble.”

  Magnum runs his hand over his scruff as he peels out of the parking lot. He doesn’t look as distressed as I am. Hell, he doesn’t look perturbed at all. I shift back in the seat and blow out a breath.