Feuds and Reckless Fury by K. Webster

 

Alister

He loves me?

Pain lances through me, shredding my heart and making my stomach twist violently. It doesn’t matter. Things are getting too out of hand. I almost kissed him at dinner. In front of our dads. Then, later, he tried to hold my hand in front of them. We’re going to get caught, and I can’t handle the fallout. Not now. Not when my life feels so brittle and wrecked. Dad will kick me out. Send me packing to go live with my real dad.

I try to imagine a life in St. Louis with Colin. He paints a picture of me going to college and then coming to work for him. Of us doing father-son activities to make up for the years we lost. He claims it’s where I belong. With him. As his son.

I’d been fighting it tooth and nail because I don’t want to go there. I feel like I’m being forced to choose between Quinn and Colin as my dad. There’s never a question. Quinn is the father I know and love. Being out in the open with Canyon means giving my dad up. Writing one person out of my life to write a new one in. I shouldn’t have to choose. The longer I’m with Canyon, the harder the choice will be. As it stands, I could keep them both in my life—even if Canyon hated me for it—if we broke up. I could still live here and see them.

The alternative is Colin.

“I can’t lose him,” I tell Canyon, my voice quaking as tears burn at my eyes. “I can’t.”

A dark look clouds over his features. “But you can lose me?”

“No,” I choke out. “I keep you both this way.”

His blue eyes flare with rage. “Fuck you, Sommers.”

He starts to shove away from me, but I’m not done with him. Hell, I don’t think I’ll ever be done with him. My fingers latch onto his shirt, yanking him to me. His forehead presses to mine, but he makes no moves to touch me. He’s trembling. With fear or anger, I don’t know. All I know is it makes me want to pull him into my arms until the shaking subsides.

“It’s for the best,” I lie even as the tears of my truth streak down my cheeks.

“No.” Canyon shakes his head, but since it’s pressed to mine, my head moves with his. “I already promised you. Roommates, remember? We’re getting a cat.”

The desperation in his voice is like acid on an open wound. I flinch from the searing awfulness of it. Because I’m responsible for the sound. Strong, unflappable Canyon Voss is close to begging. It’s more than I can handle.

“They can’t find out, and they will—”

“They won’t,” he hisses. “I swear it. Please, Wonderland, for fuck’s sake, don’t do this to me.”

Someone sobs and I don’t know if it’s one or the both of us in pained unison.

“But, you said—”

“Forget what I said,” he whispers. “I take it back. We can stay a secret forever as long as there is a forever.”

Forever feels too good to be true.

It always has.

Since I was ten years old, all the good parts of my life felt temporary. The inevitability of my harsh life was to return when I least expected it.

His thumbs swipe away the wetness on my cheeks, and then he captures my lips in a rough, possessive kiss. As though he can keep me rooted here by writing it into law with each nip, suck, and caress of his mouth over mine.

I want to believe in his unspoken promises.

That we can remain a secret, and I can keep Dad too.

He pulls back long enough to peel off his shirt, and then his lips are on mine again. We fumble at each other’s pants, both of us eager to be skin on skin. It’s a scramble to see who can get naked faster, all while never breaking stride with our kissing.

I don’t want to lose this. I need Canyon. He fills me up with heat and happiness and him. I get drunk off his taste and smell and touch.

“You’re mine,” he growls, kissing down my naked torso as he kneels in front of me. “Don’t ever try that shit again. You can’t make me go away.” He grips my dick and licks the tip where my piercing is. “I won’t let you.”

I groan in pleasure as he expertly begins making love to my cock with his lips and tongue. I’d never admit it, but he’s most certainly the better of the two of us at giving head. I’m driven to madness anytime his mouth is on my dick.

“Wherever you go,” he breathes against my cock, “I go. If you leave, I’ll find you. We share custody of an imaginary cat. I’m not letting you off your fatherly duties without a fight.”

I chuckle at his words, but then it dies in my throat. He swallows my dick down like the champion he is. My fingers slide through his soft hair, tugging and ripping at the strands. I buck my hips, eager to fuck his tight throat. His groan around my thickness rumbles through each nerve ending, making the world seem to spin. With purpose, he massages my balls, pressing into the sensitive places that drive me wild with need. It doesn’t take long before I’m jerking back, needing to see this moment and burn it into my mind forever.

Canyon Voss.

School’s hottest jock and my stepbrother.

On his knees with his dick jutting out, jerking it roughly with one hand while he strokes my own with the other. His sapphire eyes sear into me as he sticks out his red, waiting tongue. I curse as my balls tighten. Cum shoots out, hitting his upper lip and tongue. All I can do is stare at his handsome face as he lets me aim my release at his waiting mouth. It collects on his tongue, yet he doesn’t swallow. Not yet. Canyon is too filthy not to make a great show about it. It’s one of the things I love about him—his ability to drive me even crazier with pleasure, even after I come.

Love.

Fuck.

Intelligence and awareness gleam in his wicked stare. He runs the tip of his tongue along his top lip, collecting the cum he finds there and then swallows it all down. He drags any remnants left on his face over to his mouth with his finger, not wasting any of it.

“You taste like—”

“Margaritas? Limes? Key lime pie?” Lately, he’s obsessed with describing how I taste, and I find it endlessly amusing.

“You taste like mine.”

I stare at his beautiful face. Dark lashes bat against his slightly freckled cheeks, and his mouth quirks into a lopsided grin that makes my heart stumble all over itself. He grabs his jeans, fetching his wallet. Once he’s produced a packet of lube, he rips it open with his teeth and then coats his dick with it. He rises to his feet, towering over me. Slick fingers dig into my hips, and he twists me around. I gasp at the touch of his fingertips brushing down my crease. Easily, he presses into my body with one finger and then two. Rocking against his hand, I chase the delicious sensation each time he massages my prostate. I’m damn near ready to come again when he pulls his fingers back out.

The loss is gutting.

I need him inside me.

Forever.

Always in tune with me, he teases at my clenching hole, offering it what it wants. Not so gently, he pushes into me. With one hard thrust, he fully claims me. I cry out, bending some to meet his thrusts. The angle has him hitting me in the best possible way. My dick’s only half-hard, but I feel like I could come again. That’s what Canyon does to me. He takes me to new heights, and we leap off together.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he chants, his breath hot near my ear. His teeth sink into my shoulder, causing me to cry out, and then he sucks away the hurt.

A few more bucks into me, and I’m seeing stars. My ass clenches around him, which only serves to push me off the edge. Heat sears through my body lightning quick. I cry out, my body spasming with another release. Hardly any cum shoots out, but the orgasm is every bit as intense as the first one. I know when he finds his own pleasure because he groans against my neck, his thrusts becoming slow, sensual, deep grinds. His dick swells and pulsates, filling me with his hot semen.

Forever.

I want this forever.

We can have it forever as long as we both keep our mouths shut about it.

Some secrets are worth keeping, and this is one of them.

He pulls out and presses a sweet kiss to the back of my head. Cum runs out of my ass and down my thighs. Canyon’s fingers find the wetness, and he collects it before crudely pushing it back into my sore hole.

“I like it when it stays in here,” he murmurs.

“Me too.”

He eventually pulls away and guides me over to the bed. After a hot kiss, he leaves me to grab a wet washcloth. Quickly, he cleans us up the best he can and crawls into bed with me. His massive body curls around mine, holding me close like I might run away at any second. I burrow into his warmth, treasuring the feel of it as it anchors me in place. Cum continues to trickle out, but I don’t mind. I know by morning he’ll have made sure he’s at least come inside me a couple more times to make up for it.

Our fingers thread together, and I pull our clasped hands to my chest.

I fall asleep, drunk on bliss and love and Canyon Voss.

I wake to soft breathing across my chest. We always start out with Canyon spooning me from behind but wake up with him draped across my chest. I secretly love it because I can play with his hair and enjoy the weight of him before we have to pretend we aren’t completely obsessed with one another.

“Why do you like it there?” I ask once he stirs and skims his fingers over my lower stomach, the telltale sign he’s awake.

“Here?” He pats my chest. “Because I can hear your heartbeat.”

It must speed up at his words because I can feel his grin against my skin. I’m aching to have him inside me again, but I’m sore from our all-night sex marathon.

“Greedy.” He chuckles, vibrating the bed, reading my mind. “Is my dick all you can think about?”

I think for a second. “Pretty much.”

He sits up, straddling my thighs, and threads our fingers together. The sun hasn’t risen yet, so there’s a grayish, purple hue filtering in through the window. It gives me just enough light to see him, but only shadowed outlines of his face and body.

“I think about your dick all the time, too,” he murmurs. “Sometimes I think about it inside me.”

My dick jolts at his words. Fantasies of fucking Canyon take root in my mind, growing wild and fast. Pre-cum leaks from the tip of my cock. I’d been perfectly fine with always being the one on the receiving end, but now that he’s mentioned it, I want it more than my next breath.

“Say something,” he growls. “If you don’t want to—”

“You know I fucking want it. Grab the lube.”

“We’re doing this now?” His voice grows hoarse. “Like right now?”

“You’re ready,” I assure him. “I finger your ass all the time when I blow you.”

“I know, but your dick is…”

“Huge? Massive? Fucking beautiful?”

“I was going to say scary.”

I snort out a laugh, breaking my wrists free from his hold. He allows himself to be manhandled, and I roll us to where he’s now on his back. Grabbing the bottle of lube from the bedside table, I make sure to coat my cock generously before teasing my slick fingers down his crack. He curses at the intrusion of my middle finger. The clenching around my finger becomes less intense with each rub over his prostate. By the time I ease a second and then third finger into his body, he’s practically begging for my dick.

“Ready?” I ask, slipping my fingers from inside him. “If it hurts, I’ll stop. Just talk to me.”

He nods. “Okay. I will.”

I position my body over him, pressing against his hole, and listen for any telling signs of discomfort. When he begs for more, I inch into his blissfully tight body. He’s not the only one who needs to go slow. I’m worried if I go too fast, I’ll come before I get completely inside. It feels like torture for the both of us to go at such a snail’s pace, but when I bottom out, the both of us sigh in relief.

“Kiss me,” he pleads.

Dipping down, I crash my lips to his, pouring all of my love into the kiss. I slide out and then slam into him harder. His strong fingers bruise my shoulders, and his body arches toward me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His chanting has me fucking in time with each time he says the word.

Being inside Canyon is the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. Based on his squirms and moans, I’d say he loves it just as much.

“Your piercing…” He trails off as heat gushes up between us, coating his abs with his release.

“Let me taste it,” I growl, flexing my hips in less of a rhythm now that I’m getting close to coming too. “Let me taste you.”

He gathers some of his cum from his stomach and then brings it to my mouth. I open up, sucking his salty cum-covered fingers into my mouth. Between the taste of his cum and how his ass clenches my dick, I lose control with a feral snarl. I must bite his fingers in the midst of my coming because he cries out in shock. As my high fades and my thrusting slows, I suck gently on his fingers. His ass is slick, filled with my release. Wet, squelching sounds are the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard.

It’s all too much, yet somehow not enough.

I’ll never get enough of him.

“I should get back to my room,” he grumbles. “Before Carrie wakes up.”

As much as I don’t want to let him go, I pull out of him and roll off. He kisses me deeply and then slides off the bed. Finding a discarded towel from earlier, he wipes off his stomach and dick before blindly hunting for his clothes. I reach over and turn the lamp on so he can see better, taking a moment to admire his nice ass.

He yanks on his boxers and scoops up his clothes in his hands. I grab my briefs off the floor, tugging them up over me, uncaring that I should clean myself up better. His hand is on the doorknob, but I make it to him before he can escape. I kiss him hard enough that he moans and then bites my lip.

“Go,” I tease, pulling away. “Before I don’t let you.”

He leans in and nips at my neck. “It gets harder and harder to leave you.”

My chest tightens at his words. It’s unfair. Why can’t we just be together? Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe our dads would be annoyed at first but then get over it. Hope is a dangerous game I want so badly to play.

He twists the knob and pulls open the door. With his clothes still in his grip, he starts out the door, but I already miss his touch. My lips find his again, both of us grinning as we kiss.

Someone clears their throat.

All heat and fire and lust are snuffed out in an instant as ice-cold dread rushes through my veins. Canyon jerks away from me as if that will make a difference and turns toward our visitor.

Visitors.

Dad and Ryan are both wearing matching glares. Not disgusted. Not horrified. Pissed off. Infuriated. Angry as fuck. My stomach does a somersault as I stumble over my words, trying to explain what it is they saw.

What did they see?

Their sons half-naked, sticky with cum and lube, making out like their lives depend on it.

Oh, God.

They had to have heard us fucking.

Bile rises up my throat, and the room spins. “I think…I think I’m going to be sick.”

“The bug got you too?” Dad asks, his words sharp like a blade.

“It’s not his fault,” Canyon blurts out. “I did this.”

Tears spring in my eyes. I’m moved that he’d try and defend me—to protect my relationship with Dad—but it’s too little too late. They know I was an active participant. Hell, five minutes ago, I was in charge.

Dad plucks his glasses off his face and scrubs a palm down over his pinched features. Ryan grips the back of his neck as though to steady him. All I can do is stare at them, nauseous and afraid of the fallout.

“Dad, I can explain—” I start, hot tears leaking down my cheeks.

“No,” Dad snaps, his face twisted into a furious sneer. “I’m not talking to you until you put some fucking clothes on and cover up all that.” He whips his hand in my direction, and I can almost feel Canyon’s hickeys on me glowing up the room.

A choked sob leaves my throat. Turning on my heel, I dart for the bedroom. I can hear Canyon behind me calling out, but I don’t stop. Rushing to the toilet, I fall to my knees and dry heave.

What have I done?

What the fuck have I done?