Everything: A Singed Wings Novel (5 page)

“Everett, please,” she whimpered, peering down at me through her lust-heavy lids. “Kiss me. I need your mouth on me.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. Holding her snug against my chest, I quickly rolled us over so that she was on her back and I had free rein to explore her sexy-ass body. Her entire body flushed pink under my predatory gaze, making my dick pulse with gratification.

My mouth descended on one round globe as my hand massaged the other. I gave her
nipple a firm suck first then flicked my tongue over the slick bud, watching her mouth fall open and her head loll to the side. Humming with satisfaction, I trapped the darkened peak between my teeth, tugging until her back arched up off the bed of the truck and she cried out with pleasure.

“Oh, my God, yes,” she moaned, tangling her fingers in my messy mop. “Don’t fucking stop, rockstar. That’s it.”

Stop?
I chuckled to myself. As if I could.

Kissing my way over to the other nipple, I repeated the routine to give both equal treatment. My cock was lined up precisely over her center and as I worshipped her tits, I couldn’t help but rub myself against her, the heat from her pussy radiating through her jeans. Jeans that needed to fucking go…

I reached down between our bodies, my fingers fumbling with the button and zipper, then slid my hand inside the denim and silky lace, groaning when my fingers found her drenched to the core.

“So fucking wet,” I mumbled, her nipple still captured between my teeth.

“Yessss,” she hissed, as I started to glide my fingers through her arousal, spreading her juices all over her pussy and clit.

I slipped one finger inside her tight, slick core and she moaned loudly, pulling my hair forcefully. Returning my mouth to hers, I kissed her slow and sensual, matching the rhythm of my finger stroking in and out of her. My dick throbbed even harder, desperate to know how mind-blowing it’d feel to be surrounded by her sweet heat.

“Driving me crazy,” I rasped against her lips, mustering up the courage to tell her. “I need
—
”

“Everett! Are you out here? Where the h
ell did you go?” Ashlynn shouted from the parking lot, her voice reaching us seconds before I heard the crunch of gravel under her feet.

“Fuck!” I growled, hastily rolling off of Belle while trying to cover her with the blanket at the same time. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

Quickly pulling my pants up from around my ankles, I shot up to standing, hoping to keep my sister from coming any closer.

“I’m right here,” I announced, my chest heaving and my heart pounding. “What’s going on?”

Ashlynn stopped mid-stride and crossed her arms over her chest, scowling. “It’s almost time for the big countdown and we’re supposed to be on stage for it. Remember?”

I glanced down at my watch and saw that it was fifteen ‘til twelve. Fuck, I’d forgotten all about Uncle Marcus telling us he wanted us to lead the countdown. “Yeah, okay. Give me just a minute and I’ll be there.”

“What are you doing out here anyway?” my sister asked, cocking her eyebrow suspiciously. “You been gone all night. Are you—” Her eyes grew wide as they focused in on my still raging-hard erection beneath my jeans. “No fucking way. Say it ain’t so, big brother.”

“Ashlynn, go back up to the bar. I’ll be there in a minute,” I gritted through my teeth, before stealing a peek down at where Belle lay unmoving, clasping the blanket over her bare chest.

Rolling her eyes, my sister shook her head and turned around, sauntering back toward the party. As soon as she was out of earshot, I turned to apologize, but Belle was already frantically putting her shirt back on and fastening her jeans.

“Hey, wait, slow down,” I coaxed, reaching out to gently grab her arm.

“I’m sorry, Everett,” she whispered, moving out of my reach, refusing to look up at me. “I don’t know what got into me. I don’t, uh, usually act like this. I just need to go.”

Then, before I could think of what to say, something to make her stay, she jumped down out of the truck and disappeared into the bright lights of the bar. Grumbling, I locked up the truck and trudged after her, blue balls and fucking all.

My plan was to do the stupid countdown, kill my cock-blocking sister, and then hunt down Belle and finish what we’d started. Only when I got back to the bar, my sexy little pixie was nowhere to found, and by the time I finished the countdown, her friends had disappeared as well.

Pissed off beyond belief, and now, physically in pain from the predicament my body found itself in, I stormed off to find Ashlynn. I’d always wondered what it’d be like to be an only child.

Oh, and Happy fucking New Year.

I TILTED THE
rearview mirror down so I could check my reflection one last time before going inside. Even though the students wouldn’t return until the next day, it was still my first day at a new job and I was nervous as hell. I wanted to make a good impression with both my coworkers and supervisors, in hopes of landing a permanent gig for the following year.
Assuming I like it, of course.

First, running my tongue over my front teeth, I smiled brightly and gave myself a pep-talk. “You’ve got this, Belle. Go in there, charm them with your personality, dazzle them with your intelligence, and own this motherfucker like the badass bitch that you are.” I waited a few seconds, hoping I’d actually believe the words I’d just spouted, then grabbed my messenger bag and opened my car door.

Cold, blustery wind whipped all around me as I dashed inside the front entrance of the high school, and I instantly wished I’d worn pants instead of a skirt. Only several days earlier, when I’d first arrived in Houston, the temperatures had been nearly twenty degrees warmer, feeling much more like September or October instead of the beginning of January.
I sure wouldn’t have been topless in the back of a pickup truck if it felt like this outside.

A shiver raced down my spine, but it wasn’t caused by the outside freezing temperatures. The thought alone of what I’d done Friday night with Everett made my entire body hum with desire. Every nerve ending awake and alert.

I still couldn’t believe I’d been so brazen in my actions, throwing caution to the wind and surrendering my integrity to carnal urges and desires. I’d acted like a totally shameless slut. If his sister hadn’t interrupted us, there’s no doubt in my mind I would’ve rung in the new year stuffed full of rockstar cock. And loved every minute of it.

But instead, I’d gotten embarrassed, feeling like a pathetic groupie, and fled the scene. I’d passed by Everett’s sister as I hurried up from the back parking lot, double-checking that all of my clothes were on properly and finger-combing my tousled hair, and she’d snickered knowingly, shaking her head. Luckily, Lindsey and Michael were ready to go home as soon as the midnight toast was complete, so I was able to keep myself out of sight until I could escape completely.

Only then, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Curious if he would’ve asked for my number. Skeptical that he’d felt the same overpowering force of attraction that I had. Wondering if he’d thought about me at all in the past two days.
Pondering how icy my nipples would’ve been if it had been this cold.

Lost in my heady daydream, when the main door of the school flung open, I jumped back awkwardly on the three-inch heels of my boots to keep from getting slammed in the face and somehow rolled my ankle in the process.

“Son of a…” I yelped, bending down to clutch where the sharp pain sliced through my lower leg.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?” a man with a thick British accent exclaimed as he rushed over, grasping my elbow to help steady me. “I didn’t mean for it to fly open like that. The wind must’ve taken hold of it.”

Standing up straight, I grimaced and shook my head. “It’s okay, no big deal,” I gritted out, trying my best to ignore the throbbing. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
So much for being a badass.

“Well, either way, I’m still very sorry. My mum taught me to hold doors for young lasses like yourself, not knock them down with one.” He smiled apologetically then tipped his chin toward the building. “Here, let me help you inside, out of this bitter cold so we can mind your foot.”

Still shaken up from the incident, I allowed him to lead me hobbling through the door that had just nearly taken me down for the count and into the welcoming warmth. Immediately, that distinct smell of “school” hit me and my stomach flipped nervously.

Ready or not, I was about to be a figure of authority to a bunch of teenagers, most of who were physically bigger than me. Though teaching high school wasn’t my dream job, it was still a good place to start and offered a decent paycheck for a single gal who was student loan and debt free. And with the exceptionally reasonable cost-of-living in Houston, it appeared I’d be able to get a pretty nice apartment.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Can you put weight on it?” he asked, drawing my attention to him.

“Thank you. I’m fine, promise. No worries at all. See?” I lied, taking a couple of steps back once I realized he was still holding on to my elbow.

A younger guy, around thirty or so I guessed, the friendly British stranger was attractive, if you were into that professor-hipster look. Average height and weight, he sported one of those dirty blond man-buns that I was still on the fence about, had thick, black-rimmed glasses that framed striking blue eyes, and wore trendy jeans paired with a paisley button-down shirt and a brown wool coat, and wait for it… penny loafers. Yes, the kind with a real copper penny inside. I wasn’t aware that stores still sold those.
Maybe it’s a Euro thing?

“Are you a new student here?” He blatantly looked up and down the length of my body, taking in the black pencil skirt and matching knee-high dress boots I’d opted for that morning. Both clearly a gross error in judgment with the arrival of the cold front overnight and my inability to walk in heels like a grownup. “The front office is right around that corner, if so.”

Snickering, I hoisted my messenger bag back up on my shoulder from where it had slid from and shook my head. “No, I’m actually a new teacher. I’m taking over Ms. Wallace’s Art History classes for the remainder of the year.”

His head snapped back as his eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, wow,” he murmured, then quickly recovered by introducing himself. “I’m Liam Carroll, English Lit and Poetry. I apologize for the assumption. I meant no disrespect. You just look so…”

“Small? Young? Tiny?” I finished for him, trying not to sound annoyed.

It wasn’t like I didn’t get this type of reaction on a regular basis when people found out my age, but it wasn’t exactly the first thing I wanted to hear the moment I arrived at the job. However, I also didn’t want to come off as rude to one of my new coworkers. Little did I realize when I’d accepted the position how massive Houston Independent School District was, so I’d anticipated that Michael would know people I would be working with. But with forty public high schools alone, which was thirty-nine more than the small town I hailed from, he had no ties to the campus I was at, which meant I didn’t either. Making as many allies and as few enemies as possible was imperative in my first few days to ensure a smooth start.

“I feel as though this first impression couldn’t have gone any worse.” Crinkling his forehead, he frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. “And I’m sure Principal Gentile won’t be pleased to learn I’ve nearly slammed our new faculty member in the face with the door, almost caused you to break your ankle, and offended you by calling you a child all within the first five minutes of you arriving. It’s not our standard greeting, I must say.”

Not wanting him to feel bad, I smiled brightly and stuck my arm out in his direction. “No worries, let’s just chalk it up to a Monday morning, and Principal Gentile will never have to know. I’m Arabelle Sloan, or Belle as most people call me. I’m the new Art History teacher.”

The worry washed from his face as he took my hand in his and shook it firmly. “A pleasure, Ms. Sloan,” he replied in his charming foreign accent. “Welcome to the HSPVA family. If you need anything at all, I’m in room four-oh-seven upstairs, right down the hall from where your classroom is. Don’t hesitate to ask for help. These kids can be a bit overwhelming even on the best of days.”

I’m not sure why, but British people always sounded rich and smart to me, like every one of them was born to nobility and an Oxford graduate. When I had studied for a summer in Paris while working on my post-grad thesis, I’d studied with half a dozen people who called England home, London primarily, and could sit for hours just listening to them talk, especially if it was about art or music.