Feuds and reckless fury, p.13
Feuds and Reckless Fury, page 13
While Canyon dresses, I slip off the bed and rush toward the bathroom to deal with my dick. After washing the lube and leftover cum off, I pull my briefs and jeans back up, stealing a glance in the mirror.
Wrecked.
That’s the only way to describe the state I’m in. The unruliness of my hair, the pink splotchiness around my mouth from his scruff, and the reddening places on my neck and around my nipples are all evidence of a terrible mistake.
It. Was. A. Mistake.
For a perfectionist like myself, I sure am eager to make another one.
My dick is halfway back to erect, which is pissing me off. I can’t keep fucking around with Canyon like this. I can’t. It’ll end in disaster.
After splashing some water on my face, I pat it dry with a towel. Digging deep, I try to remember why being around Canyon is a bad idea.
Dad.
Because if Dad knew what I did, he wouldn’t kill me or be disappointed in me. He wouldn’t ground me or forbid me to see Canyon. He wouldn’t cry or yell.
He would turn me away.
Back out into the cruel world.
Alone.
Liar.
My heart fully believes he wouldn’t do that. That, despite being adopted, he loves me and would keep me around no matter my shortcomings. It’s my brain that has the problem. Logically, I know it would be the ultimate sin in Dad’s eyes. The cleanliness, overachieving, and excelling at everything I do are all efforts to make him realize he didn’t make a mistake taking me in. That I’m worthy of his love.
But a sin like this?
Kissing and touching and sucking off his fiancé’s son?
It makes my gut churn violently.
Sucking in a calming breath, I exit the bathroom. Canyon lingers nearby, his arms crossed over his massive chest and his brows pinched as he stares down at his feet. A flare of heat courses through my body, making me feel shameful and stupid considering the stern talking-to I just gave myself.
As soon as he disappears into the bathroom and I hear the sink running, I throw on my tank top and then busy myself with straightening my bed. The bottle of lube gets stowed away in the drawer once more, hiding the evidence of my wrongdoing. I’m pacing the floor beside the bed when I feel his electrifying presence.
“She lied.”
I freeze, all my inner berating ceasing as I jerk my attention to him. “Who?”
His eyes close, and his jaw clenches. “Mom.”
Before I can stop myself, I stalk over to him, aching for his nearness. He doesn’t shy away from my touch when I palm his cheek with gentleness.
“What did she lie about?” I ask in a husky tone, searching his pained sapphire eyes.
He swallows, the sound audible, and closes his eyes. “About having to work. She missed my meet because she had to work, but when I went there, they said she hadn’t been in.”
“Maybe she called in sick,” I offer, though I feel like there’s more to it based on the hurt in his expression.
“They said she hasn’t been in for weeks.” His brows crash together as his gaze darts back and forth between my eyes. For someone always so sure of himself, he seems younger in this moment. Vulnerable and heartbroken. It makes me want to pull him into my arms and not let go. “I was confused and worried,” he continues, “so I went home.” His nostrils flare. “She was dressed in her baking clothes…”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, realizing where this is headed.
He leans forward, resting his forehead to mine, his eyes pinching shut. “I confronted her. Things got heated.” His breath hitches as though he’s overcome with emotion. “She wanted me to leave her alone.”
Unable to keep my promise to myself, I pull him to me, hugging him tightly. His masculine, soapy scent invades my every pore, and I greedily gulp up everything of him I can. I tilt my head up, seeking his neck to press a comforting kiss there. He roams his palms down to my ass, settling them there in a possessive, familiar way that makes my heart stumble over itself.
“It’s all Dad’s fault,” he murmurs, raspy and broken. “He did this to her. To us. I just…I just want him to hurt too.” A heavy sigh escapes him. “But that means hurting Quinn. You.”
“This is all so fucked up,” I agree, with a low, harsh chuckle. “All of it.”
“I wanted to break you, Wonderland.”
“And now?”
“I can’t break you. I don’t want to. I just want you.”
His raw, honest words carve themselves into my heart. I’m supposed to be blocking this out, but I can’t. I don’t want to. I want to capture each thing he says to me, each tender touch, and hoard them. My life was rotten for so long, I crave to take some good for myself. To be selfish for once.
I tilt my head up, peering into his electric blue eyes. “If my dad finds out about what we’ve done—”
Lips brush against mine in a sweet, caring manner that has my knees weakening. Canyon is rough and mean and competitive. Not gentle. Not kind. Not this. My mind loses its logical reasoning to the way my heart thunders in my chest. His tongue swipes across mine, eagerly tasting me like I’m something new and forbidden that he can’t seem to get enough of.
He tugs at my bottom lip with his teeth while squeezing my ass and pulls slightly away to search my gaze. “Alis, he won’t.”
I internally weigh my options here. I can push him away and keep my distance. Try and be a friend—a brother—to him.
Or…
A needy sigh pushes past my lips as I seek his, eager to feel his promise of secrecy within his kiss. As though he can see inside my mind, he devours me with his lips and tongue, kissing me so I’m wrapped in a cloud of Canyon protectiveness.
I want to bask in how it feels.
Nothing, not sports or orchestra or art, has ever made the anxiety and uncertainty of my future fade away before.
But, with Canyon, all I can think about is him.
Everything else is just background noise.
This is bad. So bad. Fuck, it feels good, though.
“Come on, Chibi, it’s imperative I share the world of Mubōna Ikari with you.” Canyon’s devilish grin as he pulls away has me submitting to this ridiculous shit with a groan. “I knew all it would take was getting my hands on your dick to convince you.”
Asshole.
“Chibi?”
“Chibi Miyazaki. Daisuke’s adversary.” He shakes his head as he turns on the television. “You have a lot to learn, man. So much.”
“I literally can’t wait,” I deadpan, earning me a poke to my stomach. “And, seriously, don’t call me Chibi again, Daisuke.”
The boyish grin on his face is enough to have me waving my white flag of defeat.
He can call me whatever he wants if I get to see such stark happiness on Canyon Voss’s handsome face.
All playfulness has evaporated by the time dinner rolls around. Canyon is back to being his broody, closed-off self in front of his father, despite spending the past couple of hours watching his admittedly interesting anime show. It’s more fun watching him explain all the characters and their importance versus watching the show itself. I like how the two main characters remind me of the two of us. Daisuke Kinoshita is a brat for sure, with a tender, caring side hidden beneath all that asshole exterior, totally reminding me of Canyon.
“We’d love for the three of you to come to the ski resort with us in Canada,” Dad says, clutching onto Ryan’s hand. “More of a family vacation than anything.”
I blink away my daze and frown at them. “You want us to go on your honeymoon with you?”
“It sounds silly,” Ryan says in a sheepish tone, “but you’ll all be off for Thanksgiving break anyway. The resort will be beautiful, and skiing could be a lot of fun to do with all five of us. Of course, we’d get a separate suite for our honeymoon and all, but we’d really like it if our children came along with us.”
I may not be considered Dad’s kid anymore at that point. Especially if he ever finds out about what I’ve been up to with Canyon.
“I don’t know,” Canyon grits out, the pure honesty in his voice tugging at my heart. “I’m just coming around to the idea of the two of you marrying. Going on family vacations together feels like…too much.”
I want to reach over and take his hand, but I don’t.
“Is that the real reason or are you worried about my impressive snowboarding skills?” I ask in a smug tone, though I don’t feel it, hoping to goad him back to familiar territory where so much pain doesn’t bleed from him. I’m yearning for my dad’s favor and Canyon’s happiness just as much as Ryan is. “It’s okay if you want to pussy out.”
Canyon’s brow lifts in that challenging fashion of his that gets my dick hard, which is incredibly uncomfortable sitting at the dinner table with our dads. “Are you taunting me, Wonderland?”
“Wonderland?” Ryan asks, his gaze dancing back and forth between us.
“Alis,” Canyon says, his eyes dropping to my lips. “He’s a wonder, that one.”
“What’s the worst that could happen if you go?” I smirk at Canyon, ignoring his heated gaze. “You’re already used to getting your ass beat by me. What’s one more thing?”
“My track record for beating your ass is great,” he throws back. “I’m sure today, at the meet, was proof.”
“They’re insufferable,” Dad jokes to Ryan, and then to Canyon, he says, “We really would love to have you and Carrie both.” He grows serious as he studies Canyon. “We know it’s difficult, but we want to do right by you kids.”
The muscle in Canyon’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t lash out like I expect. Instead, he gives Dad a clipped nod. “I’ll think about it.” He glances up at the clock and pushes his plate away. “I need to get back home.”
Ryan’s shoulders slump in defeat, but Dad gives one of them a supportive squeeze. I know it hurts them that Canyon is resistant to come around, but I understand his hurt too. He feels betrayed by his father and is dealing with the ripple effects with his mom.
“I’ll walk you out,” I murmur to Canyon.
Dad winks at me, clearly thankful for my efforts to get along with Canyon. I feel like a dick because my reasons are purely selfish. I want to kiss Canyon once more before he leaves.
This is such a potential fucking disaster, and I don’t know how to stop it from happening.
Canyon
Mom is exactly where I left her.
In bed. Still dressed. Sleeping her life away.
I may be pissed at Dad for causing this, but I can’t help the resentment stirring in my gut. Choosing not to go to my track meet was on Mom. Flipping out on me earlier was all her. Lying about her job was a decision she made all on her own.
“Hey,” I greet from her doorway. “Mom, wake up. You hungry? I can make you something.”
She lets out a yawn, stretches out her limbs, and shakes her head. “No.”
“Can we talk? I feel like we never talk anymore.”
“What’s there to say, Canny?”
Her words sting. I know she means her marriage and Dad leaving us, but it feels like I’m somehow included when I didn’t do anything but try to hold what was left together.
“For one, how you’re feeling,” I say softly as I approach her bed. “Why you’re so out of it all the time.”
She shrugs. “I’m tired.”
“From what?” I clip out, anger bleeding into my tone. “You don’t do anything but sleep. How could you possibly be tired?”
“You’re such a child,” she snaps back. “You don’t know anything about pain and suffering.”
Her words are a slap in the face. As though me and Carrie haven’t been struggling as well. I want to be pissed, but mostly I’m trying to keep my emotions at bay. My throat aches and my eyes sting with unshed tears.
“I think you should see a doctor—”
“Canyon,” she barks out, sitting upright and pinning me with a severe glare. “That’s enough. I will not have you waltzing in here pretending to be your dad. You are my child. I know what’s best for you, not the other way around. Quite frankly, it’s insulting to be questioned at every turn.”
My lip trembles and I bite down on it hard enough it distracts me from doing something embarrassing like cry. “Mom…”
“If you must know, I’m on medication because of your father. It makes me sleepy, okay?”
“Maybe the doctor can give you something else for it—”
“Jesus Christ, I said that’s enough!”
I flinch at her outburst, feeling like a child who screwed up. “I’ll, uh, make you something to eat.” My voice is hoarse and barely audible.
She flops back down on the bed with an aggravated growl. Slipping from the tension in her room that’s nearly suffocating, I head back to the kitchen to heat her up something to eat. While the soup cooks in the microwave, I text Naomi.
Me: Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning.
The dots move immediately.
Nae: Don’t go under. Need me to stop by? I’m leaving work now.
An ache forms inside my chest. I miss her. Not because we dated for a year but because she became my closest confidant. I’d grown reliant on having her available when my emotions were going haywire.
Me: Please. It’s unlocked. I’ll be upstairs.
After texting that she’ll see me soon, I shove my phone back into my pocket. I grab some crackers, a bottle of water, and the piping hot bowl of soup, carrying it all to Mom’s room. She’s in the bathroom, so I set it down on the end table, leaving to avoid any conversation with her. Upstairs, I hear Carrie’s violin playing in her room, which makes me think of Alis.
Fuck, he’s hot.
His lips on my dick nearly drove me wild. The kiss he gave me in his driveway, though quick and secretive, had me yearning for more.
I make it into my bedroom and pick up the mess I’d left earlier after my meet. Knowing Alis would approve has me smiling. Turning on the television, I find an old favorite episode of Mubōna Ikari and wait for Nae to get here.
Instagram chimes with a notification of a private message from Alis.
Speak of the white-haired devil with the magical tongue and beautiful dick piercing. My elation vanishes at the rudeness of his message.
Alis: I don’t understand your play here.
Me: What play?
Alis: How hot and cold you are! The vague messages!
Last I checked, we were hot. Our kiss made us both hard, based on what I felt rubbing against me, and it was incredibly difficult to part ways.
Me: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Alis: Fuck off, Voss.
Fury swells up inside me like a volcanic wave.
Me: Did you get your period, Wonderland, because I don’t understand why you’re being a moody bitch?
Alis: Don’t text me anymore.
Anymore?
Me: I don’t have your number, loser.
He sends me a bunch of middle finger emojis.
Me: Alis, what the hell is going on?
Alis: You’ve been texting me weird shit all week!
I send him a confused gif because he’s not making any sense.
Alis: Answer when I call.
Me: Okay.
I send him my phone number so he’ll have it and wait for my phone to ring. It doesn’t. I can tell he’s read the message, but he never calls.
Me: Still waiting…
Me: Everything okay?
Me: Did you fall asleep?
Me: Whatever, man. We can talk when you’re done being a douchebag.
I plug my phone in on the charger and toss it on my bedside table. I’m still stewing about his words when Naomi peeks her head into my room.
“Hey, stranger.” She smiles, bright and happily. It’s a reminder I haven’t seen this particular smile in a long time. I really was making her fucking miserable.
“Hey.” I pat the bed beside me. “How was work?”
“Boring but then a friend came to visit, so that passed the time.” She shifts her gaze to her feet where she kicks off her tennis shoes. Then, she pads around the bed and hops onto it beside me. After stretching out and seeing what’s playing on the television, she groans.
“Really?”
“Did you expect anything less?” I roll onto my side so I can look at her.
“Unfortunately, no.” She quirks a black brow at me. “He really cleaned your room? For the record, I’ve never seen it look like this.”
“Neither have I,” I tease, earning a snort of laughter from her. “I should get some credit. I picked up my dirty clothes off the floor before you showed up.”
Her features soften as she studies me. “You didn’t call me to impress me with your clean room. What’s up? Something’s wrong. You’re sad.”
Her words are a punch to the gut. I swallow down the pain from earlier, giving her a clipped nod.
“My life is really fucked up right now,” I admit, sighing. “Great in some ways, but also confusing, and stressful as hell.”
“Your parents or the boy you stalk?”
A laugh bursts out of me. “Both.”
She reaches forward, smoothing my hair back. “Which one is great?”
“Fuck,” I murmur, fighting a grin as I scrub my palm over my face.
“Alister Sommers.” She playfully gasps. “Did you kiss him?”
“Yeah, and some other stuff.”
“Scandalous.”
“You’re not mad. You sound amused.”
“We talked about this. We’re cool, Canyon. Friends, remember?”
Relief floods through me. “We made each other…” I trail off, letting her fill in the blanks. Based on her wide eyes, I’d say she has.
“Wow. So, uh, it’s kinda hot in my head now that I’m picturing it.”
So hot. So very fucking hot.
“Something happened?” she questions. “Now you look troubled again.”
“He confuses me sometimes. One minute he’s into it and the next he’s not. It’s all weird, but before he got weird, it was fucking intense.” I frown at her. “I went over there ready to kick his ass because I was so pissed. But…”
