Feuds and Reckless Fury by K. Webster

 

Alister

For being in all of my classes, he avoids me like the plague. Which affirms what I already know—he came with my face in mind. Filthy fucker.

“They broke up,” Leon says, elbowing me in line at the cafeteria.

“Who?”

He gapes at me like I’ve lost all sense of reality. “Naomi and Canyon.”

I snap my head up and frown. “What?”

“Dude. It’s been all over the school. What have you been doing?”

“Apparently, my work,” I grumble. “Why? I thought they were in love.”

Guilt gouges into me. Surely she didn’t break up with him because she thought something was going on between us. That moment last night on the track was a mistake. A lapse in judgment. By the time he messaged me on Instagram later, I was back to myself again. The flirting and taunting riled him up as expected, but it was all part of this war between us.

What went on at the track was because he’d exposed a nerve when he took a swing at me. Normally, I harden myself against violence like that, but I was exhausted from trying to outdo each other. I snapped when he tried to hit me. Damn near cried like a little kid. It was embarrassing as fuck.

But then I was sitting on him in such an intimate way. His slick body was hard beneath me, and when I felt his boner, I was shocked. Slightly elated at his misery but also a bit mystified. There’s no way Naomi could have known unless he told her. I just don’t see him doing that. He gets skittish anytime I tease him about wanting me.

We make it through the line, but I’m not hungry. My stomach is twisting with nerves. I just wanted to fuck with Canyon, not hurt Naomi. She’s cool.

Once I pay for my food, I glance around the cafeteria, looking for them. Naomi sits with a group of girls from trig class. Canyon sits beside his friend Damon, his brows furled as he stares at the table. I take my usual spot a couple of tables over, my gaze never leaving Canyon. I’m just twisting off the cap of my Coke when he looks up. Because I’m a dick, I hold it up in a silent offering. His face reddens.

Guilty.

I should feel powerful and as though I’m taking charge of this battle we’ve found ourselves in, but the horny part of me can’t stop imagining it. His large hand wrapped around his thick cock. The way his Adam’s apple protrudes as his body arches up in pleasure. A pink, full lip caught between his teeth as he stifles a moan.

Fuck.

I scrub a palm over my face, trying hard to hear what Leon is saying, but it’s useless. I’m lost in the fantasy of Canyon fucking Voss stroking it.

Canyon says something to his buddies and then all but stumbles away from the table. He’s hastily trying to get away from me; that much is evident. I pull my brain back to Leon’s chattering and nod, pretending as though I even know what the fuck he’s rambling about. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and sigh.

Brother Lover: Do you miss me?

I stare at the text in confusion. He’s fucking with me. Again. Asshole.

Me: Nope.

Brother Lover: Liar.

Me: Leave me alone.

Brother Lover: Never.

My stupid heart shouldn’t skip a beat at that word. He’s obsessed with trying to destroy my life, and here I am, fucking swooning over these messages. This has to stop.

“It’s raining.” I waggle my brows at Carrie. “What do you say? Want me to teach you some things after school since track practice will be canceled?”

She chews on her bottom lip, scrutinizing me. “Do you have an ulterior motive?”

“I’m gay. I’d rather get into your brother’s pants than yours.” I flash her a flirty grin that has her face burning red, much like Canyon’s. “Promise. My intentions with you are honest.”

Your brother, on the other hand…

“Okay, I’ll meet you back here after school then,” she says finally. “I’ll see if my ride can wait.”

“Your brother?”

Her nose scrunches. “No. I rode with a friend.”

“Naomi’s little sister?”

“The guy she likes.” Her gaze shifts away, deliberately remaining vague.

My curiosity is piqued. “Who is it?”

“Gage Combs.”

“Does Canyon know his buddy is carting around his baby sis?”

Her blue eyes flicker with apprehension. “Alis…”

I pretend to zip my lips. “I won’t say anything, but maybe I can just give you a ride instead. Combs drives like a dumbass. We’re practically family. You can trust me.”

“Fine. We can practice at the house. Mom works late tonight.”

A thrill runs through me at the thought of being in Canyon’s house. If he’s not there, I can nose around and see what I can dig up on him. And if I can’t, I’ll fish for information through Carrie during our lesson.

“Great. It’s a date.” I wink at her and then take my seat. “I’ll pick you up out front. You know my car?”

“The fancy white Range Rover.” She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I know the one, spoiled brat.”

I knew Ryan Voss was loaded from the few times I’d been over at his house with Dad over the years, but seeing it again, I’m reminded of just how much money he makes. The house is massive. I’m curious to explore since I’ve only ever been in the living room. Canyon’s car isn’t in the driveway, so I eagerly follow Carrie inside, hoping to catch more peeks of my opponent.

I should take a picture of myself in his bed and text it to the whole school. A laugh snorts out of me, causing Carrie to cast me a confused look over her shoulder. Swallowing down my humor, I survey the nicely decorated home littered with family pictures. It smells like citrus and vanilla. Warm and inviting.

“Want something to drink?” Carrie asks, gesturing for the kitchen.

“Do you have Coke?”

“Yeah. Let me grab you one.” She points up the stairs. “My room is the first on the right.”

I climb the steps a little too quickly, nearly tripping over my own feet in my haste. Her bedroom door is open along with several others, but it’s the one at the end on the left that has me curious. Quickly, I walk over to that room and twist the knob. As soon as I crack open the door, I’m met with his scent.

Oh my fucking God.

Why does he have to smell so good?

If I didn’t want to punch him in the nuts, I’d roll around in his bed just to bathe in his scent. I’m half hard over that image until I notice the state of his room.

What the actual fuck?

He’s so…messy.

A shudder trembles through me as I study the clothes all over the floor, the unmade bed, and the bottle of uncapped lube sitting on his end table among books and other gadgets. There are framed, signed posters of what looks to be Japanese manga art hanging on the wall and several hand-drawn pieces. It makes me wonder if he drew them or if he bought them. Either way, I’m a little confused to see art on his walls rather than, I don’t know, football crap.

“That’s Canyon’s room,” Carrie says from behind me. “He’s such a pig.”

“No shit. When our dads get married, you can move in with us because you know how to make a fucking bed.”

She laughs. “If he keeps being a dick, I might just do that.”

Ohhh, here we go.

Slowly, I turn and accept the Coke from her. I twist the cap and sip on it as I follow her back to her bedroom. “I thought he reserved his dickheadedness for me and only me.”

“You should be so special,” she teases and sits down on her bed. “He’s like an asshole fairy, sprinkling his salty attitude all over the place.”

I take the desk chair and make myself comfortable as she pulls her violin out of her case. We spend the next half hour going over different things she can do to develop her playing. By the end of our lesson, she’s improved dramatically. I like that she listens to instructions and makes the appropriate changes. I’m actually enjoying myself enough that, for a moment, I forget why I’m here.

Her phone rings, and she shoots me an apologetic look. “Sorry, it’s Paige. She’s sent me a few texts. I think she’s upset about something. This will only take a minute.”

She takes the call and disappears from the room. I follow behind her until she’s descending the stairs. Turning on my heel, I make a beeline back to Canyon’s room to snoop. I have the urge to pick up the mess. He has a hamper, for fuck’s sake. Why the hell doesn’t he use it?

Before I can stop myself, I set my Coke down on the end table beside his lube and start picking clothes up off the floor—looking for clues into this psycho, of course. I place them inside the hamper when I’ve deemed them useless. After I’ve picked up all the clothes and stowed the shoes away in the closet where they belong, I close the dresser drawers and tidy up the piles on top. Next, I maneuver over to his bed to do something about the chaos there. I grab hold of the sheet and blanket, flinging them out and getting a whiff of his masculine scent. It’s dizzying as fuck.

I’m high on his stupid ass cologne.

Ignoring the heat burning through me as I imagine him naked and writhing in his bed, I make up the covers just like I do at home and take extra care to fluff the pillows. The room is finally in order and a sense of calm washes over me as I admire my work.

“And Naomi called me the stalker,” a deep voice rumbles from the doorway, making me nearly jump out of my skin.

I snap my eyes to where Canyon leans against the doorjamb, an unreadable expression on his face. His stare is intense and probing as he rakes it over me. Getting caught having one of my OCD fits was not at all what I wanted to happen when I decided to come into his bedroom and snoop. Instead of me finding shit out about him, I served him a slice of imperfect me for free.

“I, uh,” I croak out, tearing my gaze from his. I notice my Coke sitting beside the lube. With a steadying breath, I walk over to it with as much calm as I can muster and pick up the Coke. “Ahh, my prize from last night.”

I lift a brow at him and wiggle the bottle, reminding him of what I said last night about him owing me a Coke if he jacked off with me on the brain. His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t lose his cool like I expect.

“You cleaned my room.” He steps away from the door, approaching me much like a lion stalking his prey.

But I’m a lion too.

Straightening my spine, I keep my eyes locked on his intense blues. He walks until he’s inches from me. His scent is stronger now that he’s standing right in front of me. I try not to inhale him like a fucking creep.

Why does he have to be so damn hot?

His dark hair is always styled as though he put no effort whatsoever into it but still looks good and trendy. Up this close, I notice a few tiny freckles on his cheeks. The dark stubble along his jaw is tempting, and my fingers twitch to scrape the pads of them along the hair there. I tighten my grip around the Coke bottle to keep from doing anything stupid, like caress his face.

“You live in a shithole, Voss.”

“Not everyone lives in a palace like you,” he growls, his temper flaring at my words.

“No, your house is nice. Your bedroom is a pit.” I poke at his abs that are so hard a flash of annoyance shoots through me. “It’s nice to see you’re not perfect everywhere.” His abs, though, are totally perfect. Fucker.

“I can assure you,” he rumbles and runs the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip, “I’m perfect where it counts.”

I swallow hard, momentarily at a loss for words. I manage to dig deep and find some strength. “Would you like to prove it?”

His nostrils flare. “You’d like to get on your knees for me, Wonderland. But what would your precious daddy think if you sucked your brother off?” He grabs the bottle of Coke from my hand and tosses it away from us.

“Fuck off,” I snap, shoving him.

Since he’s solid muscle from years of football, he barely moves. A deep chuckle rumbles from him. With a firm hand on my chest, he pushes me all too easily until I land on my ass on his bed. The way his eyes track me like he wants to pin me and eat me has me playing dead for him. I fall back on his freshly made bed with a soft thump, unable to look away from how he looms over me. The artist in me wants to freeze the moment so I can sculpt his perfect, intense features.

“Why are you in my house?” he asks, his voice low and curious, not at all angry like I would expect.

“Just giving our sister a little one-on-one in her bedroom.” I waggle my brows at him in a suggestive way. “You came home just in time to make it a family affair.”

He sighs as though he’s frustrated, but the fury is missing. “You never quit.”

“It’s like you don’t even know me, Voss.”

His head cants to the side, his attention keeping me pinned to the bed with the weight of his stare alone. “Actually, I’m learning that I do know you. You’re pretty easy to pick apart. Like with winning.” A devilish grin tilts his lips up. “I know you have to win in every aspect of your life except…”

Except what?

I don’t voice my words because he stuns me speechless when he places a knee on the bed next to my hip on my left and then the other one on my right side. He falls forward, his palms planting beside my head.

“Canyon.” I’m not sure if the word even leaves my mouth.

He hears because his eyes narrow, tracking the sound to my lips. I swallow in a desperate attempt to calm the insane way my heart is beating.

“Except what?” I murmur.

He lifts one hand from the bed, grabbing mine and pinning it. I stare at him in shock as he grabs the other wrist too. Testing the limits of his restraints, I try and move my hands to no avail. When I lift my hips, he sits down on me, trapping me. A needy groan escapes my throat, ragged and wild, as his body rubs against my dick in an infuriatingly teasing way.

“Except this.” His smile is vicious and victorious. “You want to be overpowered by me in this bed.”

Fuck.

This asshole just found my Achilles’ heel.