Brazen Mistakes (Brazen Boys #3)

16. Jansen

Chapter 16

Jansen

I ’m coaxing Clara upstairs when Walker stomps out of Trips’ room, that awful picture in his hand. It wasn’t even scandalous this time, but that’s weirdly worse. The creep is just watching Clara sleep now? Disturbing.

But on the good side of things, Trips was there, cuddled up next to Clara, so that’s something. It’s at least a solid start.

Walker’s anger stalls out at Clara’s tears, rushing down the stairs and pulling her into a hug, even while she’s still got my hand in a death grip. “Princess, it’s not that bad. We knew he was going to send more. We’ll find some way to nail him, I promise,” he says.

She rubs her nose against his sweater. “It’s not that. Not entirely.”

I help her out. “Emma knows something’s up and is being really supportive.”

“And that’s…” he starts, confused.

“Really hard because she has to lie to the one person who’s always been on her side.”

A sob wracks through her, and Walker scoops her up as I rush ahead to open my door, the three of us piling onto my tiny bed.

Moving her mass of curls out of the way, I rub her back, offering her some comfort and calm, even if one of those emotions I can only access after hours of meditating. Whatever I’ve got, I’ll give to her.

It takes a long time, but eventually she quiets down, lying so still I wonder if she’s passed out. I pop up and catch Walker’s eye, pantomiming sleeping and pointing at Clara, and Walker nods, sorrow blanketing his features.

She’s been exhausted for weeks. I’m starting to think she’s forgetting to eat, too. She’s falling to pieces.

I want to talk to Walker about it, talk to anyone really, about how I can help. She needs something, and cuddles and naked sprints around the house don’t seem to cut it. I’m trying to silently act out my worries to Walker when both of our phones buzz.

Shimmying mine out of my pocket leads me to a text from RJ asking for a ride back. I show it to Walker, and Clara shifts in his arms, a whimper escaping her as she turns and burrows into my chest.

Walker reads the text, then presses a kiss to her head. “I’ll go,” he whispers.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s your bed, so you get to stay, you lucky bastard. ”

“Damn right.”

He huffs out a laugh, lingering beside us, not wanting to head out. I get it. Totally. But I’m not offering to switch places.

One more kiss and then he’s on his feet and out the door. Trusting me with Clara. Just the two of us. Using all the grace of which I’m capable, I slip out of bed and switch off the light, lock the door, strip down to nothing—it is my room—and slide back to where I was, Clara snuggling closer the second I’m under the covers.

Lying there in the dark, my mind races, a constant hum that needs an outlet.

Tomorrow will help. A theft will smooth out the damn bumps in my brain. But until then, I’m stuck with the urge to hunt down Bryce and bring him back to the house half dead, like a cat with a mouse, and leave him on the couch as a present for the rest of the team. I could do it. I know I could. I know where he lives and how to get in and out unseen.

Poor RJ. He’s not going to like that Bryce was back here, that there was another note while he was away. And with his dad starting up again? Bad timing all around.

I’ve got to focus on the good, though. The alternative isn’t a path I want to visit again. So, twirling a curl around my finger, I celebrate that Clara’s joining us. For real.

I’ve never really taught anybody anything before, but walking her through the basics of a lift earlier? That plus my naked apology sprint around the house, well, it calmed my buzzing brain and body just enough for me to lie still beside her now. And I’ll do anything to keep her comfortable while she gets some of that sleep she’s been missing out on since Chicago.

Pressing my nose to her head, I force my eyes closed, but sleep isn’t coming. I’m too wound up .

I’m planning what neighborhood I want to hit up tomorrow when Clara whimpers, her legs twitching under the blankets. Her upper body locks and her breaths come in pants.

“You’re okay, you’re safe, I’ve got you,” I whisper into her ear, but still she twitches.

“Clara, it’s a nightmare. You’re home. Wake up, beautiful.”

Even in the dark, I can see the moment her eyes fly open, skipping from my face to the wall behind me to the blanket twisted under her arm. “Damn it,” she murmurs, blinking away the terror.

“Hey,” I say, running my hand the length of her arm as she takes shuddering breaths, staring at the ceiling.

Her eyes flicker closed for a moment, and I lie there, watching her, not sure what to do.

Pressing my lips to the side of her head, she turns and directs my mouth to hers. “Hey,” she says after the softest kiss I think we’ve ever shared.

“You okay?”

She huffs out a breath, not answering.

“It’s okay to not be okay.”

With a soft shove, she rolls me onto my back, straddling me, pinning my arms to my mattress, and all my nerve endings flare. Her lips are pressed in a line as she stares down at me. “I don’t want to talk. I want to forget. So shut up and fuck me, Jansen.”

She dives for my mouth, and I meet her halfway, careful to keep my arms where she obviously wants them. If this is what she needs, then I’m here. I dive into sensations, the warmth where her body meets mine, the slow drag of her nails over the pulse at my wrists .

Pulling back to strip off her shirt and bra, shimmying out of her pants and underwear, she keeps her gaze locked on me, and it’s like I can see a plan forming. I can’t wait to find out what it is.

If she needs to feel in control again, I’m happy to let her. I’ll be whatever she needs, whenever she needs me. This girl is the center of my world. And I can’t wait until things calm down enough that I can finally show her, tell her.

Flicking on my bedside lamp, she sits back on her heels, her ass brushing against my dick as I suck in a breath at the tease. Her fingers tap on my chest, then she nods. “Jansen, I want to try something.”

“I’m game.”

“I haven’t even said what it is.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m game. We’re both naked in my bed, and I can feel you getting wet just looking at me. Only good things can come from this.”

A flush covers her, and my dick gets even harder, if that’s possible. Untouched, and it’s almost throbbing. “Well, tell me no at any point and I’ll stop.”

“I trust you.”

She runs her palms up my arms, so my wrists are pinned again, avoiding my kiss and nipping my earlobe. “Good.”

She rolls off of me, hands on her hips, all that damn skin on display in the half-light. “Stay,” she says.

“Yes, ma’am.” I flash her my most innocent grin, and she chuckles, rolling her eyes before marching to my closet. Moments later, she returns with my only two neckties. Fuck yeah .

Her brows furrow as she delicately wraps my wrists in the fabric, tying my hands above my head to my bedframe, checking in with me, making sure they’re not too tight, that I’m comfortable, while my fucking cock is getting so hard there’s no way I’m going to last nearly as long as she deserves.

Once I’m restrained, I give the bindings a few gentle tugs, just to test, and she tsks. “Stay still. Let me look at you.”

Every point her eyes touch, I swear I can feel it. Then her fingers trace across my skin and I groan, tugging at my bindings unconsciously, wanting her in my arms.

“Shh,” she whispers, her lips following the lines she’s marked with her gaze, her fingers venturing down my body, around my nipples, making me pant.

“Clara—” I start, not realizing how much I need to touch her until I can’t.

Her lips meet mine, and there’s nothing sweet in this kiss. This is about control, and she’s taking it, from my tongue, from my body, from me.

She pulls back. “I said, shh.”

I nod, caught in the inky black of her eyes as her hair shadows her face. Agreement received, she nips at my jaw, and my hips flinch up, needing contact with more of her, but she’s sitting too high on my body, and I feel like a landed fish, flopping around on the dock looking for someplace nice and wet to dive into.

Her finger draws in the divots between my ribs, the warmth of her tongue leaving lines of cooling awareness across my chest as she inches lower .

I wait for the moment we touch, for the delicious pressure of entering her, of hearing her gasp as her muscles clench around me.

It doesn’t come.

She slips farther down my body, her questing hands finding my dick, drawing torturous circles around my rigid length as I moan and twitch, trying desperately to get some pressure, some release.

Instead, she laps up the underside of my dick, and I almost come. Which is absurd.

I want more.

I want to give her more.

Shimmying my hips, I lock my legs behind her, and she swats my inner thigh gently, the reprimand making my damn dick twitch. “No. Stay still. I want to play.”

Dragging my legs from her, I plant my feet, ready to take things as far and as hard and as fast as my body is demanding of me. “I don’t know how long I can last like this, beautiful. Please. Please, let me fuck you like you need. Like you asked for,” I pant out as she draws designs on my cock with her tongue, still not giving me enough.

Instead, she laps at my balls, and I can’t help the way my hips arch up, looking for more, a pained groan falling from my lips as I catch the mischievous glint in her eye as she grins from between my legs. “I asked you to stay still, Trouble,” she says, then her sharp teeth nip the inside of my other thigh, forcing a few more damn useless air thrusts. I recite freaking street names, alphabetical from east to west in my head, just to keep from exploding across my stomach .

She chuckles as she finally slips those soft lips around me and sucks me deep, the vibration plus finally getting some pressure leaving me with a pained moan. She releases me, looking up my body as she licks precum from my tip, making me shiver. “No coming until you’re in me. Understood?”

“Then you’d better fucking get up there. I don’t think I can last any longer.”

In response, her hand grips my balls, and gives them a gentle tug as I shudder. “Just a little longer. I promise.”

She pulls me deep again, and I don’t even care how stupid I sound. I’m staring at the ceiling chanting “Humbolt, Irving, James, Knox,” like some kind of street-name savant as I try to ignore just how good her mouth feels, the way I’m bottoming out in the back of her throat, and good God. I’m dying.

But it’ll be worth it.

The ties are probably digging into my wrists, but all I can focus on is the way I’m gripping the bed rails hard enough I’m surprised they haven’t broken yet. The singular way her tongue flicks its way over my tip yet again has my hips canting into her mouth, chasing her.

Her tongue spirals around my head and I give up on streets and senseless nonsense escapes me, the urge to flip us both and pin her under me spiking, twisted arms be damned, but then, she finally, finally inches up my body, her hand guiding me against her dripping cunt.

I flex up into her before she’s even dropped fully onto me.

We both groan at the contact, her head thrown back, her hands braced on my chest as she slowly sinks the rest of the way down, shivers coursing over me, sweat following, my breath short, the bed creaking as I try and fail to reach for her, to grip her hips while I drive into her until she screams.

“Shit,” she says, grinding against me, my piercing shifting slightly with the motion as she hisses.

“Ride me,” I say, desperate for her to get some pleasure before I can’t hold back any longer.

Her eyes flutter open and she bends forward, nipping my bottom lip instead of kissing me as she rocks, and it’s so much, too much after that amount of teasing, and I grit my teeth. I hitch my hips up to meet her movements, giddy when a breathy moan escapes her, her hair a tangled mess over one shoulder, her body as slick as my own, just as ready as I am even without me doing a damn thing to her, just letting her have her way with me.

Her speed picks up, her muscles clenching me as I work hard to hold back, everything tight and ready. But she’s not ready, she needs more, and I’m the one who’s gotta give it to her.

She grinds down on me, using my piercing, my fingers itching to help, to give more, to coax her to destruction before I explode.

“Oh God,” she moans, rubbing herself against me over and over again, fluttering around me, and I’m not sure I’m going to make it.

Her fingers dig into my skin, and finally, finally, she comes, strangling my dick. I surge up into her, slamming through her orgasm, until the last of my control shatters and I’m coming, every inch of me bright with pleasure, wet with sweat, shuddering and breathless .

She moans, head back. “I can feel you,” she says before collapsing on top of me. Her breath brushes warmth against my cheek, and I give in to another urge, wholly unexpected, as my eyes drift shut, sleep stealing me, surrounded by her scent.