Brazen Mistakes (Brazen Boys #3)

47. Jansen

Chapter 47

Jansen

P laying Mario Kart solo after one in the morning is probably the worst thing ever.

Maybe not ever. Obviously, there are so many things that are worse.

But still.

I’m bored, I’m awake, and my skin feels one second from lighting the couch on fire.

Tai chi was a bust. Meditation was a joke. Stealing from everyone in the house didn’t even touch the way I feel right now.

I know I’m spiraling. And while I could go get my junk pierced again or some shit, healing from that was brutal. And no sex? When Clara’s just right here?

Yeah. I might be spiraling, but I’m not an idiot.

The shuffle of feet down the stairs has me throwing down the controller and running to the hallway like some lonely dog going to greet the door.

Yup. Full-on spiral mode has activated.

Clara’s shuffling to the kitchen, and I scoop her up from behind, licking her ear. She squeals and wiggles, and I let her twist from my arms. Spinning, she jumps, wrapping herself around me, and it’s like sunshine breaking through the clouds in the middle of a blizzard. “Hi, beautiful.”

“Hi, Trouble. Whatcha up to?”

“Pretty much nothing.” I carry her to the kitchen, plopping her down on a stool before pulling out the roast chicken Walker made. I’m pretty sure he’d been hoping to tempt her downstairs today, as he’d made this whole multicourse meal: salad, sides, and rice. There are even cookies, but I’m saving those for later. Or maybe I should tempt her with them? “Walker cooked like, half the day. The other half he was busy with his sketchbook. Do you think he’s drawing dirty pictures of the two of us?”

She laughs, and it’s normal. Not strained or forced. Sleep is her magic get-better juice, and I’m going to have to find a way for her to get more of it. “We’ll have to ask.”

I load up a plate for her, and she picks at the cold chicken before I finish putting it together. Good.

“Are you just down for a midnight snack?” Please say no.

“I slept half the day and half the night. I think I’m up for a while.”

I debate not saying it. I really do. But it’s what I need. And it might be what she needs, too. “Want to go out with me tonight? ”

She glances at the clock, confused.

“Not like, to a club or something. Want to go lift a car?”

I slide the warmed food to her, and she tugs off another bit of chicken, chewing it slowly before she answers. “Is that a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You don’t have a car.”

“We’ll take Walker’s.”

“For grand theft auto?”

“Don’t mind the minutia.”

Another small laugh, smothered by a forkful of salad. I grab her a glass of water, and she takes a sip. “I don’t know if I’m in the right mood.”

“It’s probably good to go out in different head spaces, so no matter what, you’re used to the tricks your brain will play on you when you’re under stress.”

She tilts her head, some of her hair slumping over one shoulder. “Does your brain play tricks on you?”

“Sometimes. What do you think?”

She nibbles on this spicy vegetable relish I forgot to ask Walker the name of, her eyes going wide before she reaches for the water again. Crisis averted, she stares at me, and it’s like she wants to ask me something, but instead she just nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Excellent. I’ll go get our winter stuff. It’s supposed to snow tonight, so that’ll help with covering our tracks. Finish up, and I’ll bring treats for the drive over.”

“Treats?”

“Secret treats. For when you’re done with dinner.”

“You’re getting to be as bad as Trips. ”

I throw a hand to my chest. “Never!” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I rush to get everything we need. Needing this, needing her, needing to not feel like my skin’s on fire.

Need need need.

This has to help. It always does.

The LoJack’s fried, and the house is still dark as we careen out the front gates, Clara’s panicked grin as I point her into random turns making my own stretch across my face.

She stole this car.

Yeah, I helped, but she’s the one who picked the house, turned the key, opened the garage, and drove away like the police are right behind her.

She squeals as she fishtails a bit on a left turn, the adrenaline making her too quick to correct her slide.

So hot.

Unbuckling, I kneel on the seat next to her, leaning over to lick and nibble along her ear, my hand slipping into her pants.

“Jansen,” she gasps. “I’m driving.”

“I was too. Fair’s fair.”

She glances at me for a split second before moving her attention back to the road. “That was different.”

I sneak my fingers into her panties and her little whimper tells me I’m on the right track. “I fail to see a difference, beautiful. You’re already high, let me anchor you.”

When she doesn’t say no, just taps her fingers against the steering wheel, I shove her leggings and snow pants down, hooking her panties and pushing them down too, wishing she was wearing a skirt so I could sneak them off those legs and into my pocket.

Later.

My first brush against her warm wet heat has her holding back another whimper, her fists too tight on the wheel.

“Do you know how to get back to the car?” I ask, teasing slow circles around her, getting my fingers slippery with her arousal.

“Mmhmm,” she says, shooting me a side-eye that has me grinning.

“Good. Better get us there in one piece. This car should be worth a butt-load, and I’d hate to lose the money because you wrapped us around a tree as you came.”

“Like you’re that worried about the money,” she says, then squeaks as I plunge two fingers into her without warning. Panting, she continues her thought, “You’re in it for the thrill, Trouble, and we both know it.”

And with that, she sets my goal for the night: to make her mindless. Dangerous?

Hell yeah.

But we’re both excellent drivers. We’ll be fine.

And if nothing else, this fucker has one of the highest safety ratings on the books. Sensors and correctors, airbags and seat belts. We’re golden.

Even if I’m not wearing mine.

Running my nose along the rim of her ear, my fingers drenched between her legs, I respond. “You’re not wrong, beautiful. The thrill is exactly why I want to make you scream. ”

I bite her earlobe, and she shivers. Pressing my thumb against her clit, she hums.

Not enough.

Pushing her hair to her other shoulder, I nibble down her neck, my thumb and fingers working her over, the squelching sound making me grin against her skin.

We take another left, this time inching through the intersection, the only sound Clara’s labored breathing and the click of the wipers.

The next turn, I slam a third finger into her, and her moans make me chuckle.

“Fuck you, Jansen,” she manages, and I laugh.

“Later.”

“I’ll get you back for this,” she warns, and damn. That’s definitely something to look forward to.

“You’d better,” I say, digging my teeth into the juncture where her neck and shoulder meet, and she groans, my whole hand coated with her.

So close.

I pound into her, my thumb coaxing out her chant of “shit, shit, shit,” as her pelvis rocks with me, the car slowing with each murmured curse.

“Keep driving.”

“You drive, you bastard,” she bites back, blinking fast to keep her eyes open.

Laughing, I dig my other hand into her curls. “I don’t remember getting an assist last time.”

She goes nearly rigid in my arms, and as I circle her clit once again, she pulls into a random parking lot, barely getting the car into park before she’s screaming, my fingers squeezed tight as waves of pleasure ripple through her.

Wish she were squeezing something better than my fingers.

But I’m not sure fucking while driving is a good idea. Which, coming from me, probably means it’s an exponentially stupid idea.

The sweet, tangy scent of her fills the car, and she slumps back, her head resting in the crux of my arm, but I don’t take back my hand.

Tiny little hugs against my fingers linger, and I cherish every one.

“Good?” I ask.

“Dangerous.” She blinks her eyes open, looking up at me. “But yeah. Good.” Her eyes drift closed again, but then they pop right back open. “When did you unbuckle? I could have killed you!”

“I trust you,” I say, adjusting myself with my free hand.

“You shouldn’t.” Her gaze drops to my obvious erection, and the way her tongue just barely touches her lip. Man. “Dangerous choices might get you in trouble,” she whispers as I slip my fingers from her heat.

“I look forward to my punishment.” And I really fucking do.

She glances into the back seat before strangling the steering wheel. “Later.”

I lick my fingers clean, her eyes following the path my tongue takes around each digit. “Anticipation. Kinky,” I tease.

She lets out a strangled laugh before shimmying herself back into her pants. “We never did talk about that. Were you really okay with, well, me taking charge? ”

“It was hot as fuck.”

“Okay. Cool.” She pulls back onto the road, the snow piling down on the windshield, street signs hard to read.

The dang electricity that lives under my skin spikes. “Unless you didn’t like it. That’s okay, too.”

She shoots me a panicked look. “No. I did. It was fun. I just feel like I need to do research. I don’t want to hurt you, you know?”

Leaning over, my damn erection still hard as fuck, I kiss her cheek. “I’m durable. If you ever just want to take what you need, I’m your guy.”

She flashes me a grin. “Got it. But let me know if you don’t like something. Either during or after or whatever. Do you think we need one of those safe words?”

It’s my turn to laugh. “Why not? How about watermelon?”

“Why watermelon?”

I shrug. “Because it sounds good right now, but I know they’ll be super gross this time of year, so I’ll just have to wait until summer.”

“No secret desire for watermelon while having sex?”

I spit out a laugh. “God no. I was just picking an unsexy word to stop unsexy things. Made sense to me.”

Her bright smile makes all of me still. “Got it. Watermelon it is. You guys and your food code words.”

“If you’re always hungry, it’s just the first thing that comes to you.” I point to the barely visible lot up ahead. “We left Walker’s car right up there.”

“Meet you at Tao’s?”

“Yup, but you’ll get to drive it in. Your theft, your drop.”

“Really? Will Tao be okay with that?”

“He’ll love you. There’s no way he wouldn’t.”