The Ruthless Boys (Adamson All-Boys Academy #2)

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The Ruthless Boys (Adamson All-Boys Academy #2) Page 23

by C. M. Stunich


  “Do you need help? Maybe another lesson with Mr. Cruschek?”

  “Micah, don’t take this the wrong way,” I start, tearing the condom open with shaking fingers, but pretending like I’ve done this a million times before. “But shut the fuck up.” He chuckles as I fumble the slick ring over him, rolling it down as he groans and lets his head fall back.

  “I never thought you’d be touching me like that,” he whispers, pulling me forward. I rise up to my knees, fingers curled around his shoulders, and then slide my gaze Tobias’ direction. It feels like somehow he and I should do this first. And yet, I see him watching us with this heavy-lidded expression that does all sorts of things to me. This wild fire takes over, and I swear I’m burning up from the inside out, like if I don’t move forward with this, I’ll break.

  “Better hurry,” he says, smirking slightly, “sixteen minutes is not a lot of time for two guys.”

  I almost choke, turning my focus back to Micah. We’re on a boat, on a theme park ride, and there are two guys here with me. One of them is going to be watching?! It’s a big jump to make, based on my previous, uh, non-experience with the whole sex thing.

  The hormones take over then, right as Micah reaches between us and positions himself, so that all I have to do to make this happen is sit back. Our eyes meet, the flames from the pirate war raging around us flickering across his face. Faux cannonball splashes tickle my arms with cool water.

  Slowly, I tilt my body back until I feel Micah and me joining together, his body pushing inside of mine. A gasp escapes my lips that he quickly cuts off with a kiss, one that his brother interrupts by grabbing my face and turning me toward him. The three of us end up taking turns kissing as Micah’s hands cup my ass and encourages me to move in a way that makes us both groan.

  “Faster,” he whispers, biting my bottom lip. My heart is racing, the fear of getting caught mixing with the sheer pleasure his body’s bringing mine. And then Tobias drops his hand between us, and rubs my body until I feel my muscles starting to clench, working hard to bring Micah to climax. “Goddamn, Chuck, you’re so tight,” he growls out. I’m not used to being talked to like that, and it drives me up the wall. It feels so wrong and so right, all at the same time.

  Micah uses his right hand to slide up my side, cupping my breast through the fabric of my dress, and tweaking my nipple in just such a way that a small scream breaks from my throat, swallowed up by the sounds of the ride.

  Tobias grins.

  “You really are a screamer,” they say together, and I flush, my movements getting more frenzied, less practiced (not that I’ve had any practice at this at all), and soon Micah is throwing his head back, his hands tightening on my body as he comes hard. He shudders and shivers, going limp as Tobias pulls back and drags me onto his lap.

  “How much time do we have left?” he whispers, and I shake my head. I don’t know. I also know that I’m not about to stop, not until we’re climbing up that last hill that leads to the exit. Maybe not even then.

  He’s already got the condom on, so it’s just a matter of getting myself into the right position. Our gazes lock, and a strange thrill goes through me. If you’d have told me on that first day of school, when the twins sat next to me in the cafeteria, that I’d end up here, doing this, I’d have laughed in your face. Yet, it feels like this is where I was meant to end up all along.

  Instead of letting me sit back and set the pace, Tobias pulls me down, and my cheeks flush as we join together, our eyes locked. He smiles at me just before leaning in and kissing me with that cherry-tart scent of his lingering in the air.

  My body is just a bundle of nerves at this point, the sheer ecstasy of the moment mixed with that little bite of fear that we might get caught, that someone might see us, that someone might even be watching on some security camera somewhere. It doesn’t stop me, though. No, the thrill of it is what keeps me going, and I work my hips just as fast and hard as I did for Micah, maybe harder.

  “Hurry up,” Micah whispers, leaning over and lifting my dress so he can slap my ass. His mouth kisses down the side of my neck and shoulder, and he gives me a gentle, little bite that has me shivering and clamping down twice as hard. “We’ve got three minutes left, at best.”

  Tobias grabs my face between his hands and kisses me like every feeling he’s ever had for me is in his lips, his tongue. The gesture is so expressive that it hits me like a ton of bricks, and I shudder, climaxing on top of him and clinging on for dear life. He holds me, grabbing my ass and encouraging my hips to keep moving until he’s coming, too, and we’re both left panting together, bodies still joined.

  I don’t want to move.

  I could sit here forever.

  The clicking sound of the boat being pulled up the track startles me into action, and I scramble off of Tobias, snatching my panties from Micah’s pocket and putting them on with hands that are shaking twice as badly as they did before.

  By the time we hit the top of the ride, and climb off toward the exit, I’m sure my face is crimson.

  “Did you see the way that employee was smiling at us?!” I whisper, and Micah glances back to wave. I slap his hand down, and he laughs at me.

  “Nobody saw anything, Chuck, calm down.”

  “We were very discreet,” Tobias teases, pinching my ass through my dress.

  “Very discreet,” Micah repeats, and then does the same. I slap them both away, blinking into the warm darkness of an LA evening as we step outside and find the others waiting for us. One look at the twins’ faces, and Spencer’s mouth drops open in shock.

  “You didn’t?!” he chokes out, but the twins are grinning like maniacs, and I’m blushing like crazy.

  “Look,” Micah says, removing the condom from his pocket and pointing to the knot he’s tied at the end. “Keeps all the cum in. Isn’t that what you said, Spencer?” He tosses it into the trash before Spencer rushes him, and they end up in a tussle that’s not entirely real, but not entirely fake either.

  “Well, well,” Church says, pulling his phone from his pocket, the flickering lamps nearby turning that honeyed hair into a burnished gold. “I better make some calls, so we can be certain none of this leaks out.”

  “None of it will leak out,” Tobias says, removing his own condom from his pocket. “I tied the knot tight.”

  I groan and put my face in my hands, but I’m not entirely unhappy.

  Actually … I’m sure of it now.

  This really is the best day of my life, hands down.

  Too bad things that go up must come down …

  My mother’s apartment is not in the best part of LA. In fact, it’s not even really in the okay part of it. No, it’s sort of in the worst of the worst.

  “Fuck, I knew being poor was hard, but this is … next level.” Spencer looks around at the squat, little houses with bars on their windows, and then redirects his attention to the two story apartment building in front of us. The air is hot and dry, and the sky is gray with smog. A frown curves my lips down as the twins gaze at me with sympathy.

  “Poor Chuck,” they coo, clasping hands and looking up at the second story where my mother’s door stands half open, her bubbling laughter drifting out and down to where we’re standing. The only decorations she has are a dirty welcome mat, and a dead cactus. Like, I get we’re in LA, but how much effort does it take to keep a cactus alive for fuck’s sake?! “This is the true face of poverty.”

  “Seriously, if you guys don’t stop making poor people jokes, I’m going to kick each one of you in the balls.”

  “Good for you,” Ranger says, but even he doesn’t look convinced, his sapphire eyes tracking the movement of a pedestrian with a shopping cart. True, my family didn’t have a lot of money growing up, but we did okay. Where my mother lives now is nothing like the apartments I grew up in. And even then, there’s nothing wrong with being poor.

  I need to educate these rich dickheads.

  “Shall we?” Church asks, indicating the staircase
with his long fingers.

  We just checked out of the Disneyland hotel this morning, and I almost cried at having to say goodbye to the fairy tale suite. It was truly magical, the whole thing was. Even the threesome with the twins. I get choked up, and force myself to move up the stairs, so I don’t spend too much time obsessing over it. That night, I crawled in that luxurious bathtub while Spencer relaxed on our bed, and I let a bath bomb fizz over my fingers while I obsessed. At first he seemed a little freaked-out. Like, he kept touching me and asking all these questions, and I decided it was best to just be honest. He got a play-by-play of the whole scenario, and then sat cross-legged on the bed, quietly fuming for a while.

  “Was it better with them than it was with me?” he’d asked, and I shook my head no. It wasn’t better. It wasn’t worse either. It was … the same, in the best way possible. Since I didn’t exactly know how to answer that question, I distracted him by curling up against his side in my towel, smelling like lemongrass from my bath, and we fell asleep together.

  The third night in the hotel, I had Ranger and Church stay over, so I could avoid dating politics. And well, now here we are, standing outside my mother’s apartment while my heart races, and I try to figure out how I’m supposed to survive two weeks here.

  “Let’s go,” I say as I put my hand on the sunbaked railing and walk up the pebble-coated steps to her front door, knocking briefly before letting myself in. Mom is sitting on a small balcony opposite the door, just around the corner where we couldn’t see her from outside. She has a cigarette in one hand, her cell in the other, and she’s smiling at me, gesturing me in. Her brows go up when she sees the entourage I’ve brought with me.

  “I’ve gotta go, I’ll talk to you later,” she says, hanging up the phone and pushing a blond curl from her face. “Charlotte!” My mother, Eloise Peters née Reitman, stands up and holds her arms out to give me a hug. I step up and put my arms around her waist as the boys set my luggage near the door, the bags they bought me filled with dresses, shirts, and shoes from Rodeo Drive. Yeah, Rodeo freaking Drive. We went all Pretty Woman and went shopping. “I’m so happy you’re here.” She holds me back at arm’s-length, and frowns. “Although I’m still upset that you didn’t come sooner.”

  “Mom,” I begin, turning back to indicate my friends … and boyfriends. I’m ignoring her statement on purpose, because there’s nothing I have to say. She’s abandoned me before, so I don’t feel she gets a lot of say in what I do now. “These are my friends from Adamson.” I swallow hard and exhale. “And also my boyfriends.”

  “Boyfriends?” she asks, looking confused, and the twins exchange a look before stepping forward to introduce themselves, holding out their hands in unison.

  “Micah,” Tobias says, which makes me roll my eyes.

  “Tobias,” his brother adds.

  Mom shakes their hands, but looks perplexed as hell. I don’t blame her.

  “And this is Spencer,” I add as he moves forward and nods his chin in greeting. “These are the three I’m dating. And then this is Ranger Woodruff and Church Montague, the president and vice president of the illustrious Student Council.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she replies cautiously, her brown eyes darkening slightly in suspicion. “I thought it was just going to be me and you, baby. I’ll take you out for lunch, and then we can swim in the pool at the new hotel I just started working at.”

  “I was hoping we could all go out together,” I say, knowing this is only going to buy me so much time. Dad said two weeks here, and I’m determined to play along. If Church really does have an idea on how to get me back into Adamson, I’m going to need to foster as much goodwill as I can from the headmaster before then. “Do dinner, maybe?”

  “It’d be my treat,” Church supplies smoothly, but mom is already frowning again.

  “Actually,” she starts, exhaling and looking almost guiltily in my direction. “I’m having Charlotte meet someone tonight.”

  “Someone?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

  “Well, I’ve started dating again,” she begins, and my mouth turns down in a severe frown. Dating? My mom’s never dated anyone but my father, at least as far as I know. I’m no idiot; I’m sure during some of her worst relapses, she may have slept with other men, but she’s never had a boyfriend. In fact, I’m about ninety percent sure that Archie is still in love with her. I guess some stupid, silly childish part of me thought that maybe after she got better, they’d get back together again. “He’s a great guy, I think you’ll really like him.” She looks up at the boys and gives another small, half-smile. “So tonight doesn’t really work for dinner, but maybe we could do Friday?”

  “Friday would be lovely,” Church supplies, even as the twins and Spencer exchange a look. Ranger narrows his eyes, but what can he do? This is my mom, my choice, and I do really miss her.

  I turn back to look at them, and find myself tongue-tied yet again. I’m still not over the whole three boyfriends thing, or the sex … It’s a lot. My life is sort of crazy right now.

  “See you guys Friday then,” I say, realizing then that it’s only freaking Tuesday. It feels like an eternity, sitting here in this hot apartment with its shitty window AC unit, and the roach traps everywhere.

  “We’ll send the security detail back to check on you,” Church whispers as the twins give me a hug from either side, squeezing me so tight that it almost hurts. But then, it’s the best feeling in the world, so I don’t fight it. Spencer is next, hugging me and burying his face in my hair.

  “See ya around, Chuck-let,” he says, and then I wave to Ranger and Church as they usher the other guys out of the room.

  “You should get dressed,” Mom tells me as soon as the door closes, and I finally have a moment to look around. The carpet is brown and dingy, with only a square of seventies linoleum in the kitchen to break it up. There’s a bathroom on my left, a single bedroom on the right, and a depressed air to the place that makes me wish I could scoop my mother up and fly her away to somewhere else, anywhere else really.

  “Okay,” I say, exhaling and shaking my hands out.

  This is going to be a long-ass two weeks, isn’t it?

  I change into an Alice in Wonderland dress that the twins bought me at Disney, because they liked the Tweedledee and Tweedledum decals on the hem. Paired with the kick-ass red heels I grabbed during our shopping trip, and the Student Council pin I put on the pocket, I feel ready to deal with this whole fiasco.

  Mom. Dating.

  I don’t like it, not one bit.

  Mom’s new boyfriend calls a taxi for us, and we end up at a nice restaurant with night-blooming jasmine and hibiscus outside. It smells heavenly, and I find myself relaxing a little. I mean, just because her new boyfriend can afford to take us here doesn’t mean he’s a nice guy, but at least the food should be good, right? The night won’t be a total wash.

  “I thought you were still in love with Dad,” I say as we walk up the winding path, and Mom pauses, dressed in a cranberry colored dress and a fresh face of makeup that takes years off of her. She almost looks like the woman I used to know before the drugs started.

  “Honey,” she says, a slightly patronizing smile taking over her lips. “It’s not that I don’t love your dad. It’s just … we don’t work together anymore. And I got with him so young that it felt like I never got to experiment, or test my own boundaries.” She pauses and looks at me with a slightly perplexed expression on her face. “Although it looks like you’re not making the same mistakes I did.” A chuckle escapes her red painted lips, and I frown. “Three boyfriends. Does your Dad know?”

  “I told him, but I couldn’t decide if he believed me or not,” I say with a loose shrug of my shoulders. “Not that it matters. It didn’t change his decision to send me away, and it certainly won’t help him invite me back. Because that’s all I want, Mom, to go back to Adamson.”

  “Certainly not with that hanging and all that other nonsense,” she whispers, and then her eyes
widen and she stands on her tiptoes to wave at someone over my shoulder. “Over here, Ian!” She waves frantically, and I sigh, turning to see who this asshole coming up the—

  “Holy shit, it’s Mr. Dave,” I choke out, looking around frantically for a hibiscus bush to jump into. But it’s too late. He’s seen me, and his own eyes go wide at the sight. We stand there staring at each other, mean librarian bully versus annoying male student turned daughter of the woman he’s banging.

  Dear God of Holes and Other Such Things, please open up and swallow me now. I know you’ve never listened to me before, and continue to allow horrible, embarrassing things to happen to me, but just this once, could you make an exception?

  No such luck.

  Mr. Dave grumbles his way up the path, his dark eyes like spears, his mouth etched into such a deep frown that I wouldn’t be surprised if it got stuck that way.

  “You’re my mother’s new boyfriend?” I ask, looking at him with an expression of sheer and utter disbelief. “How? You live in Connecticut.”

  “I know you’ve met Ian before,” Mom says, coming around behind me to snuggle up to her new beau’s tree trunk like arm. “But I wanted to surprise you.”

  “How did you two meet?” I ask, trying to puzzle my way through this whole thing. You don’t just accidently run into someone from across the continent like this. There’s no such thing as coincidence. You know, except for like how you ran into the twins at the Boardwalk that one time … All of a sudden I’m sweating bullets, and my mind is going crazy.

  Everyone’s a suspect, aren’t they? Every single person I know.

  “I came out here to visit family during winter break, and ran into your mother,” Mr. Dave rumbles, this voice like rocks tumbling down a mountain. “We just happened to hit it off.” He glances over at her, and his face softens in an almost believable sort of way.

  “Psychopaths don't feel human emotion per se, but are extremely skilled in imitating it.”

  Church’s words hit me like a freight train, and I find myself taking a step back. No way Mr. Dave—if that’s even his real freaking name—accidentally runs into my mom in a metro area containing over thirteen million people. This is all connected back to the school, and to me, and to Jenica’s murder. I can feel it.

 

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