God of Fury (Legacy of Gods #5) by Rina Kent

He stops a few yards away on the dirt road and I get a front-row seat of his side profile. Is he sure he’s not interested? Because he dressed up so prettily for me. Though he does wear the same clothes in different colors, there’s something about today’s color. Blue brings out the blue in his mysterious, snobbish eyes.

Though I’d rather he go shirtless so I can get a front-row seat to his body and possibly sink my teeth into it.

Figuratively, of course.

Who the fuck am I kidding? It’s definitely literally.

I’m about to close the distance between us when a convertible Audi stops right in front of him.

A blonde bombshell jumps out of the car, wearing skimpy shorts that reveal the crease of her ass and a sports bra that barely covers her big tits.

Her lips are unnatural as fuck and she’s wearing more makeup than a drag queen.

She lunges at Brandon in a ferocious hug, her entire body gluing to his front. “Babe!! I’m so happy you decided to give this a go again. I promise everything will be better this time. You know how much I love you, handsome.”

He pats her back, but there’s no enthusiasm behind his movement. His expression doesn’t change, not even a little.

Like a robot.

I got a better reaction from him by plucking out his AirPods, blondie.

Not that I care.

I don’t.

And yet my hand twitches, demanding I throw her off the nearest, steepest cliff.

How dare she interrupt our morning ritual that’s been going on for three days?

Two.

She pushes back, smiling like a model, her face soft as she coos at him and kisses the corner of his mouth. Disgusting.

Oh, look at that. Brandon’s favorite word.

“Do we have to go on a run, though?” She pouts like a goddamn toddler. “You know I don’t like that, or waking up early, actually.”

A lot of you knows are thrown around.

Who is this chick?

I probably saw her on his IG that I spent a whole night going through, thank you very much.

Though the only occurrence I remember was two years ago when someone who looked like her, sans the bleached hair, was hanging on his arm.

The reason she caught my attention is because he never posts pictures with girls who aren’t his friends.

Considering I acquainted myself with his female—and male—friends, I knew she was not on the list.

Clara.

I remember the name because I made a note to visit her IG as well, but I didn’t have time since it was already five and I needed to get here.

Who the fuck are you, Clara, and what’s your favorite way to die?

I’m about to step into the scene and ask her just that—or maybe just scare her away. That shit comes naturally to me.

Leaves crunch beneath my shoes and Brandon’s head tilts in my direction, but he doesn’t look at me.

“You don’t have to run, Clara.” He sinks his fingers into her hair, drags her head back, and slams his lips to hers. Her tongue peeks out and he resists for a fraction of a second, keeping his lips shut, before he opens, just the slightest bit, and she shoves it inside his mouth.

I stand still, head cocked to the side as I watch him kissing her.

Or is it the other way around?

His muscles ripple and roll, his back rigid, his biceps bulging, then his long fingers tighten in her hair.

Fighting.

That’s what he’s doing. He’s not enjoying the act. He’s fighting.

What are you fighting, lotus flower?

He seems to be struggling to kiss her, or maybe he’s struggling to keep his libido under control.

My gaze slides down to his shorts, and no. There’s no erection in sight. Kolya would’ve gotten that in a few seconds after a heavy make-out session.

Old Kolya, that is. The new one is clearly an idiot who will be written out of my will.

Brandon whirls her around, so I’m greeted by her back as he deepens the kiss. I don’t even look at her meaningless presence, my gaze zeroing in on his face that barely contorts.

Barely moves.

Barely feels—if at all.

He’s Frenching the fuck out of the girl, but his eyes are wide open. Not once closing or getting lost in the act like she is.

His gaze flies to mine and I hold it, locking my eyes with his robotic ones as I cross my arms.

Show me what you got, straight boy.

A frown appears between his brows as if he can hear my thoughts while I remain there watching, not the show, but his face.

I relish the subtle change, how his expression morphs from control to conflicted emotions. Hate? Lust? Both fucking hot, if you ask me.

I reach down and adjust my dick, then keep my hand there and clutch it through my shorts, showing him the damning effect he has on Kolya.

He didn’t even speak to me, but a mere look is enough to turn a man into the worst sinner.

Bran’s eyes widen, and yeah, he’s definitely not focusing on Clara one bit right now. Not even a fraction of his attention is on her.

Just to fuck with him, I roll my bottom lip beneath my teeth, then mouth, “Wanna give me a hand?”

His eyes spark a bright shade of blue as he jerks away from Clara almost violently.

“Whew, that was intense, babe,” she breathes out and I’m about to bash her head in and send her over that cliff in her convertible.

He faces away from me, but not before I see the evidence in his shorts.