Page 71 of Silver Tears

“You!” She points at me, continuing to pace. “This is all your fault.” She hurls the rolled-up ball of paper my way and I catch it with one hand. I open it and straighten it out. It’s a test paper with a grade C written in red ink.

“I don’t understand,” I tell her. I really don’t. Why is she showing me this?

She scoffs and looks at me with incredulous eyes. “It’s a C grade! I’ve never got a C grade in my life. It’s all your fault,” she hisses, snatching the paper out of my hand and shoving it into her school blazer pocket. “Making me go on dates and go to parties when I should have been at home studying.” She tugs at her hair as she angrily twirls it around her finger. “I can’t show my dad this. He’ll be so disappointed in me.”

Precious is about ten seconds away from a full-on meltdown and all because of a C grade.

“This is bad!” she exclaims. Frowning, she places her hand on her chest. “My heart is racing. I can’t breathe properly.”

I grab her by the shoulders to get her to stop and look at me. “Mills, look at me. You need to calm down.” I guide her backwards until she hits the back of a desk. Placing my hands under the back of her knees, I lift her and sit her down in front of me.

“Just calm down, okay?”

It’s clearly the wrong thing to say. I have no idea how to handle women when they get like this. Is there something you should say?

“Calm down?! Don’t tell me to calm down. This is all your fault. You hear me? Your fault, Sebastian Collings.” I can see her struggling to take in a breath. She’s halfway towards a panic attack. “Grades might not matter to—”

I slam my lips on hers. Words I’m not good at, but this, this is my language. She seems surprised, but then grabs my blazer lapels and pulls me closer. I explore her mouth with my tongue, deepening the kiss, making her forget all about her none-issue grade. I part her thighs with my hands and step into her space. My fingers trailing up her soft skin until I reach her panties.

“You need to come, Mills. All this tension needs to be released.” I growl as I roughly pull aside her knickers and plunge my fingers inside her. She gasps at the sudden intrusion. I pump my finger in and out of her. Precious doesn’t need gentle right now, she needs fast and furious. She moans against my lips, still clinging on to my blazer as I wreck her with my mouth and my fingers. I love it when she moans like this. I slide another finger inside her, filling her up as I fuck her with them. I moan, thinking about what it would be like to slide my cock deep inside her and feel her come. “It’s just a grade, baby girl. There are bigger things to worry about in this world than a C grade.”

“Just shut up and make me come!” she growls, her hips rocking against my hand as she tries to find what she needs.

I smile against her lips. Look at precious getting all demanding. I kind of like it. A lot. My dick strains against my trousers, wanting to be inside her. With my thumb, I play with her clit while she rides my fingers like a greedy girl.

“Ahh, fuck!” I grin as I cover her mouth with mine, drowning out her loud moans. Even if a teacher walked in right now, I couldn’t stop. I’m on a mission to make her come and take away all that tension she was feeling. “Faster,” she pleads. I curve my fingers inside her, finding that sweet spot that has her panting and her eyes rolling in her head. That’s it, my precious. “Come for me,” I whisper against her mouth. She swears under her breath before she tightens around my fingers and moans my name against my lips as she comes undone. Mill’s slowly releases her tight grip on my blazer, and I withdraw my hand and bring it up to her mouth. “Lick them clean.”

She glances at me before staring at my outstretched hand. I expect her to tell me to shove my fingers where the sun doesn’t shine. So, fuck me sideways when she grabs my wrist, places her mouth around my wet fingers and sucks and licks them clean. All the while, her big expressive eyes challenge me in defiance.

“Fuck, precious.” If I was hard before then now, I’m painfully so.

“I guess I hate you a little less right now,” she tells me as she slides down off the desk and taps me to step back and give her space. I’m so shocked at her blatant show, I move away, and watch dazed as she picks her schoolbag up off the floor. “It’s still your fault that I got a ‘C’ by the way,” Mill’s says, giving me the finger before she sashays out of the classroom. She leaves me with my tongue hanging out of my mouth and my dick begging me to chase her down and fuck her senseless.

“Fuck! I seriously need to get laid,” I say out loud to myself. But why is it that the thought of stalking the corridors to find a willing female to give me what I need doesn’t appeal to me?

The sound of my phone ringing in my pocket pulls me from my dazed and confused state. It’s Dan.

“Everything okay?”

“The boy is fine. My guy is keeping watch. The old lady took him to school this morning.”

I nod my head and breathe a sigh of relief. “And the mum and her screw-up?”

“Passed out back at his place. They did a fair bit of coke and weed last night, Dan tells me. Sad to say, it doesn’t shock or surprise me. Their drug habit has been getting worse as they lose themselves in a cocktail of drugs and alcohol. “And the dealer Andrea owes?”

“It’s the Brownlee boys.”

I snicker. Of course it is. The Brownlee boys have been slowly building their little drug empire over in Droyton. They stay away from the Bay, because, well, they want to stay alive. “Keep me updated if there’s anything else.”

“Will do. Speak soon.”

The line goes dead, and I pocket my phone away. That’s what I like about our P.I. He’s like Rafe, blunt and to the point. He doesn’t pussyfoot around; he just gives you the facts as they are. Looks like I need to ask the boys to pay a visit to Droyton tonight.

* * *

The three of us sit in an unlit car park at the back of an old disused mill over on an industrial estate in Droyton. In the short while we have been sitting here, many people have entered and left as they pick up their fix for the night.

“Are you going to tell us what this is about?” Rafe asks me as he closes his pocketknife and places it back in his jacket pocket.

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