Feuds and reckless fury, p.16
Feuds and Reckless Fury, page 16
An ache forms deep inside my chest.
Why is life so unfair? Of course the guy I actually truly like would be considered untouchable. He’d be the one guy I’m not allowed to have—the one who has the power to destroy my family.
A ball of emotion clogs my throat, and I desperately try to swallow it down. His fingers, still on my chin, reluctantly slide down my neck, and then he curls his hand into a fist in his lap.
“Talk to me,” he murmurs, his brows furrowing. “You’re upset.”
Beyond upset.
I want him. I want to shout it to the world. I want to kiss him in front of his old team and his new one. I want to grab his hand, march us into the kitchen at home, and tell our dads we’re seeing each other.
But I can’t.
I won’t.
The turmoil inside me is nauseating. Sweat drips into my eyes, making them sting. It could be tears, but there’s no way in hell I’d ever cry in front of the football player fuckfaces. Definitely sweat.
Canyon, though, sees right through it.
He has an uncanny ability to cut into me with just one look.
How he exposes me feels dangerous. Like a scalpel slicing through layers of skin to reveal a pulsating carotid artery. One tiny nick, and it could be over. That’s how I feel around Canyon. He’s a blade tearing through my life, digging so deep I’ll never recover. While he hasn’t done anything detrimental yet, it’s inevitable.
And then I’ll bleed out for him.
For Dad.
This life.
It’ll hurt and, in the end, it will be the death of my happiness.
“Do I need to take you home?” he asks, his voice tight with worry. “You’re kind of freaking me the fuck out right now.”
Absently, I brush my knuckles over his fist, needing his touch like I need air. “I’m fine.”
“You haven’t gotten any more texts, have you?” His worry transforms into something possessive and protective, wrapping its claws around me and sinking in.
“No,” I rush out. “I blocked the number like you said. It’s just…”
“Just what?” His brows crash together as he studies me. “Tell me.”
“Never mind.”
“Don’t do that,” he growls, his voice low. “Tell me.”
I feel like such a dick. It’s his birthday today. We had plans to go to dinner with our dads and then make it a marathon night of Mubōna Ikari. I was going to give him the best birthday blowjob—since we’ve yet to move to anything past that—and give him the present I made.
Not have a mental breakdown at track practice.
“I don’t want this to end.” My head drops, and I suck in a deep breath. “I like it.”
Canyon squeezes my thigh in a comforting move, uncaring how it might look to those around us. “It’s not going to end. I promise.”
“Faggots.”
The sneered word behind us has Canyon jumping to his feet, a furious roar rumbling from his chest. I jerk my head back in time to see Gage looming over us, his wicked glare burning into us from behind his football helmet. Canyon is seconds from knocking his ass out. I’m about to intervene when we hear a loud squeal of tires.
A car flies into the parking lot going way too fast, plowing right through the fence. Collective yells of surprise sound out all around us. It all happens so quickly, in the blink of an eye.
A vehicle barreling across the track.
Coach getting clipped and flying up in the air before the car nearly takes out two of our teammates.
It rams into the bleachers behind where Canyon and I’d both been readying ourselves to sprint just moments before. The crash of the car is a deafening cacophony of shattering glass and bending metal. I don’t realize I’m barely standing on two feet until Canyon releases his death grip on my arm and takes off in a dash toward the accident. Gage and several other football players do the same. I shakily follow, hoping no one is hurt too badly.
Canyon and Gage both head toward the car while I rush over to Coach Davies. He groans in pain, clutching his hip.
“You’re okay,” I tell him, assessing him for more life-threatening damages, and then holler over my shoulder, “Someone call an ambulance!”
“Is…Is anyone else hurt?” Coach Davies asks through gritted teeth, his face pinched in pain.
“I think everyone managed to move in time,” I assure him, though I can’t be certain. He had his back turned to the car, so by the time he heard the noise, he wasn’t able to move away in time.
“The driver?”
“Not sure.” I glance over my shoulder to see the crowd that’s formed around the car. “Where does it hurt?”
“Hip.” He grimaces. “I don’t think it’s broken, thank fuck, or I’d never hear the end of it.”
“What?” I tease, though my voice is tight with worry. “That you’re an old man who broke his hip? Coach, we would never joke about something like that.”
He flips me off, which has me relaxing. “Yeah, yeah. Help me up.”
“No,” I grunt out. “You’re not moving until the EMTs arrive. Just in case.”
His eyes close, and he nods. I take his hand, squeezing it. “Just relax, Coach. Help is coming.”
“Better me than you and Voss.”
“What?”
“Had you two not taken a break…” His words trail off, and he swallows hard. “Let’s just say I’m glad you’re not hurt.”
The gravity of what he said has my stomach churning. Had I not had my little meltdown that required Canyon to pull me aside, we could have been smashed a lot worse than Coach. Bile rises up my throat, but I quickly swallow it down.
After the EMTs arrive, I step aside to let them do their job. By this point, police have shown up, and it was determined the driver died on impact. Everyone stayed late to answer questions, but I’m one of the last to get to leave, aside from Gage and Canyon, who are still talking to an officer. I’m numb by the time I make it to the showers, sick at the turn of the day’s events. I quickly shower off and wrap a towel around my waist. Silence greets me in the locker room now that everyone has left. I’ve just opened my locker to change when I see my phone light up on top of my clothes. It’s a text from a new number I don’t recognize.
Ice floods through my veins, chasing away any lingering heat from my shower.
Unknown Number: Watch your back. Nowhere to hide.
My fingers fly over the keypad as I hurry to reply.
Me: Leave me the fuck alone, asshole.
The response is immediate.
Unknown Number: You and your daddy would like that.
Dread poisons my every thought, and I gasp for air. This isn’t a random wrong number. I can feel it with every fiber of my being. This is something else, and it’s personal.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
I freeze at the sound, terror immobilizing me. I’m right back in my bed as a child, trying to hide from the mice that are everywhere. Crawling, crawling, crawling. A whimper claws at my throat as tears burn in my eyes. My skin prickles and buzzes as though the very thought of the mice has my flesh coming alive. I’m a trembling mess when the squeaking nears. A shriek of horror bursts out of me when something touches my arm.
“Hey,” the soothing voice croons. “It’s me.”
The shuddering stops as I take in Canyon’s gaze on me, concern etched in his features. He reaches up and strokes his thumb along my cheek. My eyes flutter closed. I lean into his tender touch, needing his comfort more than air right now. His hand slides to my nape, and he presses his forehead to mine, gently rubbing his fingers through my hair.
“You’re okay. Just a panic attack,” he murmurs, words like whispers along my skin. “Coach will be fine, I promise.”
Squeak.
My eyes fly open, and my spine turns to rigid steel. The air in my lungs is sucked out in an instant, leaving me gasping for air. Canyon yanks me to him, hugging me tightly.
“Wonderland, hey, it’s okay. Breathe. Breathe for me. That’s it.” He kisses my neck. “I’m here. Chill out.”
He’s sweaty but still smells delicious. I anchor myself to his scent, trying my damnedest to block out my fears.
“It’s…It’s not Coach,” I croak out when I finally find my voice. “It’s…”
I pull back and hand him my phone. His face transforms from worried to pissed in the blink of an eye.
“Who the fuck sent you this?” he demands, fury radiating from him like heat from the sun.
“I don’t know. I think the wrong number wasn’t wrong after all.”
He fiddles with the phone, blocking the number. “These texts make it seem like…” His words die off, and his jaw clenches. “So help me, if I find out someone did this shit on purpose.”
“It could be a coincidence,” I choke out, though I don’t believe it.
“Come on. We’re going home.”
“Are you going to shower?” Confusion trickles through me, tugging my brows together and making me frown.
“I’m not leaving you alone.” He stands up, his tennis shoes making those squeaking sounds as he walks over to his locker. “Get dressed. We’re going to tell our dads about this.”
I want to argue with him because involving our dads seems like a terrible idea, but I’m also scared shitless. With Canyon and our dads at our side, I feel like I could handle anything.
“Your birthday is ruined.”
He yanks his bag out of the locker, shooting me a soft smile. “You didn’t get hit by that car. I don’t give a fuck about my birthday as long as you’re okay.”
Being with Canyon may be my worst idea to date, but right now, it feels like the best one.
It doesn’t feel wrong or twisted or sick.
It feels reckless…but right.
Canyon
Our dads are on us the second we walk in the door. Word spread like wildfire about the accident. If they hadn’t seen us on the news in the background of a broadcast covering it, they would be a lot more worried. Though we’re okay, it still doesn’t stop them from drilling us with questions.
“Who was it?” Dad asks at the same time Quinn says, “Do they know who died?”
I cut my eyes to Alis. Just as he was at practice, he’s withdrawn and lost inside his head. If we were alone, I’d kiss him and bring him back to the now. But we’re not. Kissing him, or showing any sort of affection toward him, would be blatantly obvious. And as much as I’ve wanted to hurt Dad, I can’t do it through Alis. Not exploit the very thing I promised him I wouldn’t.
Why?
Because things have changed.
I’ve changed.
I fill them in on everything I know, which isn’t much. The police didn’t release the person’s name, but liquor bottles were found in the front seat of the car. It was pretty evident the person was shitfaced.
Dad and Quinn are too busy discussing how awful the situation is to notice Alis is sinking further into himself with every passing second. I’m desperate to get him alone because he’s unraveling fast.
“Can we take a raincheck on my birthday dinner?” I ask, interrupting their conversation. “We’re both a little shaken up over the accident.”
Dad nods, pride shining in his eyes that makes me want to simultaneously shy away from and run toward. “Understandable. I’ll order in barbeque from Stoney’s.”
My heart twists painfully inside my chest. I’m reminded of any time Mom didn’t feel like cooking and Dad would save the day by ordering Stoney’s. It’s such a small, stupid memory, but it punches hard enough to knock the breath out of me.
While Dad orders over the phone and Quinn grabs his wallet so they can pick it up, I motion for Alis to head upstairs. He goes straight to his room, but rather than dropping his bag and violin case in the doorway like a normal human would, he stows them both neatly away in his closet. Because I’m not OCD as fuck, I do drop my bag in the doorway and walk over to him, more eager to hold him than anything else.
“You’re sweaty,” he complains as he clings to my shirt, inhaling me. “You smell like ass.”
I smile, kissing the top of his head. “And you’re into that shit, which is why you’re sniffing me like I’m a snack.”
Our playfulness fades as Alis sighs heavily, sinking into my arms as though I can hold him up forever. I’m in no hurry to let him go, that’s for damn sure.
“Come on. Let’s shower,” I murmur, giving his ass a smack.
“I already showered.”
“And I dirtied you up.” Stepping back, I take his face in my hands, tilting his head up so I can peer into his captivating mahogany eyes. “Let me take care of you.”
His Adam’s apple bobs hard as he swallows, and his nostrils flare. He’s barely holding his shit together. It makes me want to do it for him. Just gather him up and keep him close, whispering assurances until we both believe everything will be okay.
Because it will be.
It has to be.
I pull away from Alis to grab more clothes from my room and check to make sure our dads left to pick up the food. Once it’s clear, I follow the sound of the shower running. Alis stands under the steamy spray, shoulders hunched and staring at the ground. Even though I give him shit about being smaller than me, he’s always seemed larger than life. Bigger and better. Right now, he’s so fragile. It hurts seeing him so wrecked. All I want to do is fix it.
Stripping out of my sweaty clothes, I join him in the shower. Since he’s seemingly lost, I grab a bar of soap to lather him up. It pulls him out of his trance, once again bringing his magnetic eyes to mine. With the water plastering his white hair to his forehead and droplets running down his face, he’s downright lickable. I pause in my efforts to clean him to press my lips to his wet ones. Our kiss is soft. I try to convey to him with my lips and tongue that I’ll make it better. Somehow. I don’t know how to undo his mood, but I want to try. I’m determined to do so.
A small moan escapes him, tossing a match on my desire for him. Fire licks a path down my spine, into my balls, and down the length of my dick as it thickens. One of his hands wraps around my cock, squeezing and stroking. I nip at his bottom lip, unable to keep from thrusting into his hand.
“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” I murmur against his mouth. “Not the other way around.”
“You are.” He pulls back, dark eyes intense and probing, no longer filled with agonizing loneliness. “Just by being Canyon fucking Voss.”
My breath catches as he sinks to his knees in the shower. This is a sight I’ll store in the spank bank for years to come—Alis naked and soaking wet on his knees staring at my dick like he wants to choke on it. A groan rumbles through me as I toss the bar of soap on a ledge to free up my hands. I want to run my fingers through his wet hair and guide him every step of the way.
“What are you doing?” I croak out, unable to keep from flexing my hips so my dick taps at his chin.
“What’s it look like?” His lips kick up on one side in a mischievous, challenging smirk that has me eager to shove my cock down his tight throat. “I’m giving you a birthday blowjob.”
I hiss as he playfully teases my tip with his tongue. Everything about Alis is too much. I feel so much with him, and sometimes it’s overwhelming. Like, I didn’t know there were all these sensations to begin with. Suddenly, I’m thrust into this life where Alis Sommers forces me to feel every damn one of them.
Now that I’ve felt what I’ve been missing, there’s no way in hell I could ever go back to a dull, numb version of it.
His pretty pink lips slide over my length, and his tongue works its magic along the way. With one hand on the tiled wall to hold myself up and the other gripped tightly in his hair, I rock my hips, needing to push deep inside him. He hums, the vibration fluttering straight to my balls, as he grips my ass, urging me to do what I want. A curse tumbles past my lips as I slowly fuck his perfect mouth. The sounds coming from him are noisy and ragged. He gags and snorts and groans. It’s all so fucking wonderful. Like him. My Wonderland. Letting go of his hair, I slide my fingertips to the front of his neck, marveling over how it bulges each time my cock drives down his throat. I’m lost in the sheer blissfulness of our sinful act. There’s no time to warn him as I come with a shocked gasp.
Jerking out of his hot mouth so I don’t drown him in cum, I finish on his face. I’m frozen at how fucking sexy he is with his swollen lips parted and tongue sticking out as he eagerly waits for the rest. The water rinses most of it away, but Alis licks my crown, clearly savoring whatever remnants he can find.
I’m in so deep with this guy.
It’s a mystery I can’t unravel—how one day I hated his guts, and now I feel as though I would do damn near anything for him.
I help him to his feet and then crash into him with a gracious, starved kiss where I eagerly taste my saltiness on his tongue. Taking his dick in my hand, I stroke him urgently while I possess his mouth with mine. It doesn’t take but a few slippery jerks of his cock to have him moaning. His heat splatters between us as his cock twitches.
Fucking perfect.
“Best. Birthday. Ever.” I grin against his lips.
He pulls back slightly. “And I haven’t even given you your real present.”
His words chase away some of the fog of our fantasy come to life. It’s weird not spending my birthday with my mom and sister. Last I checked, I didn’t have any messages from either one of them. It sucks that when I woke up this morning, the three people to wish me a happy birthday are the three I first set out to destroy.
“What’s wrong?” Alis demands, his brows furling as he studies me.
“It’s just…” My voice cracks, and I shrug, looking away from him. “Mom doesn’t care.”
He shakes his head in vehemence. “Don’t say that. She does. I’m sure she’s just going through a rough time.” He strokes his thumb over my lips. “Everyone cares about you, even when they don’t want to. But your arrogant ass already knows this.”
“I mean, have you seen me?” I take a step back to gesture at my body.
He rolls his eyes and hands me the bar of soap. “Wash up and meet me in the studio.”
