Hael's tongue dances a wicked little jig against my body as he slides his left hand under my right thigh, gripping my ass and squeezing hard. He waits until I'm trembling before he finally pays any attention to my clit. The tip of his tongue flicks across it at the same moment he enters me with two fingers, curving them against my aching insides and drawing a climax from me that's like magic. One-part skill, two-parts the thrill that we might get caught.

“Five minutes left,” he says, smirking at me and running his tattooed arm across his mouth. Hael chucks my leather pants at me in challenge. “How good are you, Blackbird?”

“Better than you,” I mock, but Hael gives that braying laugh of his, like he doesn't believe that for shit. I guess, seeing as he gave me an orgasm in thirteen minutes, he can act like that. I struggle into my pants, slip my heels back on, and then turn to find him already situated in the chair.

Hael occupies it like he’s the king of the school, one elbow on the armrest, inked fingers resting beneath his chin. His smirk is lazy and self-assured, his posture dripping arrogance, and his gaze flaming with heat. With those sexy bedroom eyes of his, and that sweet coconut smell, he’s practically irresistible.

Dropping to my knees, I tear the button on his jeans open and look up at him, freeing his cock and feeling my breath catch in my throat. Better than you, I said, but really, that's a load of crap. I barely know what I'm doing.

My hand wraps the base of Hael's cock while he threads tattooed fingers in my hair, guiding my mouth to exactly where he wants it. My dark purple lipstick is gonna stain, but maybe that's what he wants? I don't worry about it as I take the head between my lips and slide forward, enveloping his hard shaft in the heat of my mouth.

The groan that escapes Hael’s lips makes my already over-excited body tingle as I swirl my tongue around the tip and feel his hips buck up off the chair.

“I won't lie, I've wondered what your mouth might feel like,” he says, his fingers pressing a little firmer against the back of my head, encouraging me to go faster, take him deeper. “I used to grill Aaron about it.”

I ignore him, working him with my lips and tongue, wondering how many minutes we have left. We must have at least three, right? My right hand grips the base of Hael’s dick while my tongue does most of the hard work, swirling around him and working these deeply satisfying groans from his throat. He helps me along, hips bucking up off the chair to create more of that wet, hot friction.

I’m so into it, I consider reaching down to stroke myself through my pants when I hear the sound of a key in a lock and start to pull back.

“No, wait, I’m almost there, baby.” Hael holds me still as he groans, thrusting up into my mouth and coming hard before I get a chance to pull away.

“What the hell is this?” A startled male voice snaps the wild tension in the room as I struggle to swallow and wipe my lips at the same time. Hael is buttoning up his jeans like he doesn't give a shit and standing up. I turn to follow his stare and find Principal Vaughn, red-faced and shaking with one hand on the doorknob of his office. “I let you off easy last week, but we're looking at expulsion for something like this.”

“Hello Vaughn,” Hael says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a flash drive. He tucks it into the front pocket of the principal's white button-up shirt and smiles. “Take a look at what's on that drive, and then get back to us with your plans.” Hael turns and offers up an inked hand for me to take. I do, narrowing my eyes on him, my heart beating so fast I feel dizzy. But I meet Principal Vaughn's wide-eyed stare head-on. I hate this man for so many reasons, the least of which is that, when I came to him with allegations about my stepfather, he went and called the Thing personally.

Invited him to pick me up.

Called me a liar.

Called my sister a whore.

I'm shaking with rage now as Hael drags me a step forward, and then pauses to put his hand on Vaughn's left shoulder.

“Watch the videos and decide how you want to repent. Maybe next time it won't be just your car that we blow up.”

Hael yanks me out the door and into the hallway, shoving me into the cinder block wall and leaning over me. His mouth hits mine before I can even think to turn away, searing through the haze of anger and leaving me panting.

“I wanted to see what I'd taste like on your lips,” he says, and then he laughs again and pushes off the wall, disappearing down the hallway toward his next class. Everyone's staring at us, but it doesn't matter.

At Prescott High, everyone knows … you don't mess with Havoc.

I head down the front steps after school to find Hael waiting for me in his car on the curb across the street, music blasting from his speakers, one tattooed arm hanging out and tapping a rhythm against the cherry-red metal.

Like a good girl, I look both ways before I cross, skirt around the hood, and slip into the passenger seat.

“Waiting for Oscar and Callum,” Hael explains when we don't take off right away, smoking a cigarette and blowing gray smoke out the open window. He offers me the pack, and I take one, careful to avoid our fingers touching.

I let Hael Harbin go down on me in the principal's office, I think, and then pull in a deep inhale to banish the thoughts with nicotine. And all for the sake of revenge. A small smile curves my freshly painted lips. I mean, there are worse ways to ensure the downfall of one's enemies.

Oscar appears in his suit, Callum right behind him, wearing a baggy blue hoodie with the sleeves cut off, like always.

They head across the street and I start to get out, but Hael beats me to it, climbing out and lifting his seat up so the other two boys can crawl in the back. They look ridiculous back there, like we're in some sort of clown car or something. It's far too small for them, but nobody complains.

“Can we please grab something to eat on the way to Aaron's? I'm fucking starving,” Callum groans, that throaty voice of his giving me the chills. He curls his fingers over the back of my seat and peers at my phone as I tap out yet another lie to my mother. His smell drifts over me, this pleasant mix of shaving cream, talc, and aftershave. “Maybe the drive-in?”

“If it's not sanctioned by Vic, I'm not doing it,” Hael says on the end of a forced laugh. “Pretty sure Blackbird and I are in enough trouble as it is.”

“For fucking in your car behind the school, or taking your lunch assignment to a different level?” Oscar asks, and I can see in the rearview mirror that he barely lifts his eyes from the screen of his iPad.

“Lunch assignment?” I ask and Callum chuckles, low and dark. There's some deep-seated pain in that laugh, but also a grudging sort of acceptance. The darkness is where I live; I've learned to be happy here.

I shiver.

“You know how hunters send their dogs in to flush out the prey?” Callum asks, and I glance back to give him a questioning sort of look. “Hael is the dog.”

“And who's the prey?” I ask, just before I come up with the answer on my own. “Principal Vaughn.” I hit send on my text and wonder how long my luck's gonna hold before Mom starts after me for being gone all the time. That, and because I've always got Heather with me. Always. Once she's done with her after-school program, we'll go pick her up. “I thought we were going after Kali next?”

“Kali's tied up with the Ensbrook and Charter brothers,” Oscar explains in that Lucullan smooth voice of his, like some sort of dark angel. Finally, he turns off the screen of the iPad and sets his inked hands over the top of it. “It's going to take a bit more finesse. Principal Vaughn is becoming a problem.”

“He hauled Vic into his office yesterday and nailed him with weekend janitorial duty for a dress code violation,” Callum explains, and Hael makes a sound of surprise, his hand tightening on the wheel.

“Why is this the first I'm hearing of that?”

“Maybe because you guys were too busy screwing each other to check the group chat?” Callum asks, leaning over me again and snatching my phone. He hits my text messages and pans up the long list of speech bubbles to one from Vic, timestamped for early yesterday afternoon. Oops. I was a little distracted last night when I glanced at the messages. I'm not used to actually being a part of a group chat that's worth checking. “Now, Bernadette, ask him if we can't swing by the drive-in? If you ask, I'm sure he'll say yes.” Cal chuckles again, and I frown.

“I'm not following the joke,” I say, but Callum just laughs and neither of the other guys offer up an explanation. Instead, we head straight to Aaron's, even as Callum bitches incessantly about being hungry. Vic is already waiting for us in one of the chairs on the lawn, smoking a cigarette and frowning so deeply I wonder if the expression might end up etched into that pretty face of his.

“Boss, let's order food,” Callum says, and Vic carefully lifts his dark gaze from me to his friend. Cal puts his hands in a prayer position and waits until his leader casually sighs and nods once. “Pizza, I think. Yeah, I'm feeling pizza.”

I study Callum as he slips his hood off. He's always wearing baggy tops, but his legs are muscular and trim under his black shorts, and he's got a much leaner build than most of the other guys. A series of deep scars mars his legs, the wounds old, the flesh shiny and healed over, but a clear sign of past trauma. I wonder what happened to him?

“He eats like a horse and still has a dancer's body,” I grumble as Callum disappears into the house, and I notice that Vic stiffens up slightly beside me, glancing my direction. “I'm a little envious.”

“How so?” Vic asks, his voice dark, sharp, dangerous. A hot thrill chases up my spine as he rakes that ebony gaze over me. “You're in perfect shape. Don't you think so, Hael?”

Hael pauses next to us as Oscar sighs and slips in the front door, leaving the three of us alone on the lawn. “I mean, you got a good look yesterday, didn't you? And again today?”