Break Me (Brayshaw, #5)

by Meagan Brandy

“You don’t want to do that, baby girl.” “Yeah, I really do.”

“I’m not as strong as you seem to think I am.” “You’re stronger than you know, but you don’t need to be right now.” “Fuck,” he growls. “Careful.” “I’m tired of being careful. I want to be—” “Bad.” He kisses my jaw. “Naughty.” Another kiss. “Dirty?” “Free. Valued.” My breathing is picking up now. “I want to know what it feels like to be wanted.” No, wait, that’s not right... “I want you to show me what that feels like.” “If I touch you, I might get addicted.” Please get addicted.

“Listen to me, Tink.” He kisses directly over my heavy beating pulse there. “I need to know every fucking thing you like and dislike. What’s good and what’s better. You think something in your head, let it out.” I feel his smirk against my skin. “Not that you’re real good at hiding your thoughts.” I grin. “Got it. Royce?” “Hm?” “Touch me,” I demand instantly. “And not over my jeans.”

I’m consumed by him and his every move.

“Tell me what you like.” He slams his head back onto the blanket, only to lift it again with a growl. “You put that mouth on me, it’s mine.”

It might sound pathetic, but all I’ve ever wanted is to be wanted for real, and for Royce to be that someone is more than I could ever ask for. He is more than I could ever ask for.

“I’m far from fuckin’ playin’. Last chance. Touch my cock, you’re mine.” “Then stop talking, Playboy. Let me make it official.”

“Fuck me, that mouth. I knew it was made for me,” he pants.

“This right here, I need people to see it, Tink.” His lips brush mine. “Let them see.” Let them see his mark on my skin.

“For the record, as far as I’m concerned you were already mine, and baby girl... know that I’m yours.”

I was a good-ass sitter—he didn’t even wake up.

“Hey, little bro,” I whisper. “You got milk drunk last night and didn’t get a good look at me. I’m your favorite uncle.”

“Your pops is gonna try to teach you to dunk, but when he’s not looking, come to me. He’s got the perfect shot, but the dunk is all me, my man.”

“Me and Zoey Bear, we’re gonna show you all sorts of stuff, ain’t that right, Zo?” I look over, having sensed her eyes on the two of us and a wide smile takes over her lips. I jerk my head and she runs to us, so I lift her onto my knee.

“I love you, Phoenix Brayshaw.”

STOP

Of all the mornings for my brother to call, he chose this one. It was just after seven-thirty, when I’d normally be on my bus ride to school, but this morning, at seven-thirty, I wasn’t on a bus or in a town I was forced into. I wasn’t with a family who didn’t really want me there or at a school where kids weren’t sure what to think about the sad little weird girl who came in with a bald spot and puffy eyes.

This morning, I was wrapped in a cocoon of tattooed arms, barricaded by long and lean muscles, and held on to with a comfort I wasn’t sure existed.

“Yeah, brother. I’ll stick to the plan.”

If she hurts him I’m done

“Smile wide at the fucker.” His lips curl in what’s meant to be a grin but is far, far from it. “Get closer, let him see what my cock did to that filthy little mouth of yours.”

“What are you doing?” “Me?” He slides forward with a nasty chuckle, now hovering over me, caging me in—a wild animal and its prey. The ruler and the stray. The vein in his jaw tics angrily. “What are you playin’ at, Brielle?”

He was ready to celebrate, and not with just anyone. With me.

“They see,” I whisper, reminding him of what he asked of me last night. To show them, them being everyone.

Slowly, his muscles loosen. “They see, but do they know who put it there?” I shrug, baiting him with my smirk, knowing how much he loves to bite. And bite he does.

His arms sling greedily around me, lifting me from the floor, and my legs wrap around him. His eyes bore into mine with a silent demand, one I’ll gladly meet. I press my lips to his, right there in the middle of the room, and he growls...

It’s not. She deserves better, I know this. But Brielle, she doesn’t hold it against me.

She’s kind when others aren’t, forgiving when she shouldn’t be, because she’s fucking light and she can’t help but shine it over everyone. She always understands what I want and what I need, when I need it and why. It’s fucked-up to have to deal with my bullshit, but she does it with stride.

Fuck Bass and the bullshit before this, fuck everything. All I want is this. Her. In the morning and at night, every hour in between.

I told her I’d get addicted, and I was at first taste... if I wasn’t before that. Pretty fucking sure I was.

“Stay with me again tonight.” She kisses me, but pulls away too quick, a slow smirk growing. “We’ll see.” “We’ll see.” I frown. “We’ll see? Tink, swear to God—” Her lips crush mine and we’re done fuckin’ talking.

I might be a sinking fucking ship, I can’t deny that, but if I do go down, she doesn’t have to drown with me. And now she won’t. This girl, she’s brave.

She’s perfect And she’s mine.

“I take these off, I’m sliding in.” “I might beat you if you don’t.”

“Lie back on my bed, baby, let me look at you.”

“This is my bed, Tink. My room,” he rasps. “You look damn good in it.” “Want to know how I feel in it?” He nods, the muscles of his arms flexing. “Lonely.”

“I’m gonna take you now,” he promises. “While you’re drippin’ for me. Hear me, baby, once I slide in, it’s gone. Regret doesn’t allow for a redo.”

Creases pull at his forehead. “I’m not small, baby girl. This is gonna hurt.” “Then make it hurt good.”

“Kiss me while you come, Tink.”

“Black on black. I could have guessed as much.” “Like my soul.” His lips run along my collarbone. I grin into the night. “Like your eyes while you fucked me.” “Mm,” he moans. “You said fuck again.”

“I didn’t fuck you, by the way,” he tells me. “I stole you.” My brows jump teasingly. “Stole me?” “Yeah. You don’t belong to you anymore.” My throat grows thick as I stare at the boy beside me. “Is that right?” He nods. “You belong to me and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

My blood runs warm, my chest squeezing. “I think I’m okay with that.” “Wouldn’t matter if you weren’t.”

“Lie down, baby girl. Let me show you what you do to me.”

My head snaps toward the sound and I suddenly have a desperate need to disappear. Not one, not two, but all of the Brays are scattered around in the kitchen. Raven and Maddoc lean against the counter, coffee cups in hand. Captain has Victoria wrapped up while she stirs something on the stovetop. Zoey sits at the bar, holding on to the little pink wolf and then there’s Rolland, the boys’ dad. He’s sitting beside Zoey, his new grandson in his arms.

“Well.” My shoulders fall. “This is embarrassing.”

Maddoc reaches over Raven, pulling another coffee mug from the cupboard, and holds it out for me. “Oh... no, I... just no.” I shake my head, spin on my heels and yelp, my hand flying to my chest. Royce grins in front of me. “Scared?” “Dying inside,” I hiss, but not in a whisper. I know he’d only say it louder, so I let them hear and another round of laughs follow. “Good. Now next time you won’t try to sneak out.” “I wasn’t sneaking. I was, you know, quietly leaving.” “Sneaking.” He pushes closer and good god, he’s shirtless, and oh look, my bra’s in my hand. I stuff it beneath my shirt—more laughs.

Royce crosses his arms. “So, did you not catch how I said ‘next time’?” “What—” I tilt my head. “Yeah, I did...” His head tugs back, a look of pure confusion on his face.

“And nothin’?” He crosses his arms. A laugh bubbles out of me. “Do you really think I’d be here if I wasn’t positive this wouldn’t end here?” “Yes.” This time, I’m laughing with his family and his glare snaps their way.

“You’re adorably wrong, Playboy.” His hold tightens, I fight the sigh that tries to escape.

“And you’re annoyingly naïve if you think you’re walking out that door right now, so park that ass, Tink, and get ready for some Brayshaw breakfast.” He releases me and walks into the kitchen.

As I dare to inch closer, it’s Raven who spins toward me with a brow raised and hidden wink. “Coffee?” “Hot Chocolate?” Her grin is wide and instant, her eyes tight and something else I can’t note. They shift to Royce, to the glass set out on the counter that must have been for him, something hot and steaming already inside it, and drops the one Maddoc pulled out for me directly beside it, a low and self-murmured, “perfect” following.

“So she cooks and has a green thumb.” Victoria drops into the seat beside me, giving her a perfect view of Brielle and Zoey in the garden. I scoff a laugh. “She’s got it all, VicVee.”