“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?

  Canyon

  Everything in me screams to go after him. I can hear him gagging in the other room, for fuck’s sake. But, based on the warning glare Dad is giving me, I need to tread carefully. Since I’m not about to have this conversation half-naked, I set my clothes down on the table. After yanking on my jeans and shirt, I cross my arms over my chest, aiming my stare toward my father.

  “I can’t fucking believe you,” he mutters, bitter disapproval in his tone.

  Quinn’s face is red with anger, and he can’t look at me. He’s begun pacing beside Dad. My gaze drifts back toward Alis’s doorway, but Dad’s voice commands attention.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Dad spits out. “Is this some ploy to get back at me?”

  Hot fury explodes inside me, making my limbs tremble. “Are you serious? Not everyone is an asshole, Daddy Dearest.”

  Dad takes a step forward, quickly losing his cool. “Do not take that tone with me, Son. You want to act like a fucking man, then I’ll treat you like one. Trying to make me pay for what happened between your mother and me is one thing, but going to these lengths to ruin their lives is too fucking far.”

  “I’m not trying to do anything, Dad, and I’m certainly not going to ruin Alis’s life. This isn’t a game to us. It’s not all about you, for fuck’s sake!”

  “You’re goddamned kids who are more interested in getting your dicks wet than what will happen to this family when it blows up in your faces!”

  “You sure as hell weren’t worried about what happened to this family when you got your dick wet with your best friend!”

  Quinn grips Dad’s bicep, keeping him from moving toward me. Dad and I keep our scowls locked on each other. It’s not until we hear a soft voice that the tension breaks.

  “What’s going on?” Carrie asks, hugging her middle as she walks out of her room. “Why is everyone yelling?”

  “Nothing for you to worry about,” Dad clips out. “Are you still feeling sick?”

  If Carrie and Alis caught a bug, it’s inevitably coming for me next. At this point, I’d prefer to escape their disgusted glares in exchange for hugging the toilet.

  “Yeah,” Carrie mutters. “I—”

  “Dad, I love him,” I blurt out, cutting off Carrie. “I love him so fucking much.”

  “No,” Quinn barks. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. Stop talking. Just. Stop. Talking.”

  I swallow down my words, choosing to stare down at the floor, trying to hear past the blood rushing in my ears as panic unapologetically consumes me. In my head, this all went down a lot smoother. Not like this. Not with such angry disgust.

  Alis doesn’t deserve this.

  I don’t deserve this.

  The thing between us isn’t wrong like they’re making it out to be.

  “What’s happening?” Carrie demands, confusion written all over her face as she comes to stand beside me.

  We’ve been pissed at each other for months, but she clearly senses an “us against them” situation. And, like it was on that boat this summer, she chooses my side, past arguments cast aside. Having my sister at my side gives me the strength to say my next words.

  “I love Alis. He’s my boyfriend,” I explain, my voice tight with nerves, but relief flooding through me at saying them.

  “He’s. Your. Brother,” Dad roars, his chest heaving. “Your fucking brother, Canyon.”

  “Goddammit, Dad,” I cry out. “Stop being so melodramatic! He’s been my stepbrother for all of three days. If you’re going to try and make me feel bad for that, save your breath. You don’t give two fucks about that. You still see it as some personal vendetta against you. That’s why you’re pissed. It’s not, though. Are you even listening to me? I love him. I love Alis—”

  Dad rushes forward, his blue eyes blazing with almost hatred in them. I nearly stumble back from the weight of it. Carrie stops him dead in his tracks with her words.

  “Dad, I’m pregnant.”

  All three of our heads snap in her direction. As soon as I see the guilty expression on her face, I know exactly whose baby, too.

  “Damon,” I mutter out in disbelief.

  Tears well in her eyes, and her bottom lip trembles. “It was just a meaningless fling for a couple of months, and now it’s over. God, I’m so stupid.”

  My own troubles are quickly forgotten as I pull my sobbing sister into my arms. She whimpers out apologies to Dad and me both.

  “My children have lost their fucking minds,” Dad snarls, storming out of the suite, slamming the door behind him.

  Asshole.

  “Come on,” I grit out, guiding Carrie out of the living room toward my room. “Let me grab a quick shower. Then, we’ll get you something to eat and talk about this.”

  “We’re not done having the conversation about you and my son,” Quinn calls out to me. “Not even close to it being over.”

  Ignoring him, I shut the bedroom door behind me and hug my sister to me once more.

  “It’s okay,” I assure her, though I don’t know I even believe my own words. “Everything is going to be okay.”

  It’s the biggest lie I’ve ever told her.

  Nothing is going to be okay.

  Everything is all fucked-up.

  By the time I’ve showered and dressed, Carrie is no longer crying. She’s also no longer wearing her pajamas and is dressed, waiting for me on my bed. Seeing her face red and puffy from crying makes her appear younger than her sixteen years. If we were back home and not all the way in Canada, I’d drive my ass over to Damon’s and beat the shit out of him for this. As it stands, I’m in another country, unable to do anything but support my sister the best that I can.

  We leave my room expecting to see Quinn and Alis, but no one is there. The door to Alis’s room is shut. I can hear his familiar voice through the wall, low and shaking. I ache to go in there, stand beside him against his dad, but I also don’t want to make things worse. They’re not yelling, which is a good sign. If anything, Alis seems fairly calm. Carrie needs me right now, and Alis will get me later. He would want me to go to her since Dad lost his shit.

  We walk past Dad and Quinn’s suite down the hall to the elevators. Carrie looks a little green. I don’t know the first thing about morning sickness, but I’m betting it’s to blame in this situation. My stomach grumbles when I get a whiff of bacon and syrup as we exit the elevators. Carrie grimaces and swallows hard.

  “What’s wrong?” I demand, halting to a stop.

  “I can’t take that smell.”

  I motion for a lounge down the hall. “Go grab us a seat in there. I’ll find something unoffensive and smuggle it in there. Give me five minutes.”

  We part ways, and I stalk into the restaurant, a man on a mission as I head for the buffet. As much as I crave the juicy bacon, I’m not an asshole. If the smell turns her stomach, I’m not going to get any. Quickly, I load up a tray filled with fruit, muffins, hardboiled eggs, oatmeal, and some hash browns. I toss on the condiments, then grab a coffee for myself and an orange juice for Carrie. Several people give me curious stares as I leave the restaurant with my haul, but I pretend I don’t see. By the time I slip into the lounge, I’m thankful to see Carrie secured us a table in the corner hidden by some plants and high-backed chairs.

  “We’re not supposed to eat in here,” Carrie says, eyeing my tray as though she expects to be assaulted by the bacon.

  “Well, we’ve had a rough morning. They’ll get over it.”

  She smirks as I set the tray on the coffee table and take the seat next to her. Her eyes light up at the orange juice. She takes several sips before picking up a muffin. Once she has something in her stomach, the color returns to her face, and she picks through the hash browns I’d actually gotten for myself. Since she shoved the oatmeal off to the side, I take that and dive in, eager to chase away the angry grumbling in my stomach. I polish off the bowl at record speed and eat one of the bananas before feeling satisfied. Grabbing my coffee, I settle back in my chair, lifting an expectant brow at her.

  “I really messed up,” she mutters, her bottom lip trembling. “Like really, really messed up.”

  “Both the Voss kids are fucking failures today. At least we’re in it together.” I playfully nudge her foot with mine, hoping to cheer her up, though I feel like crying right along with her.

  “I can’t…” She frowns, staring into her orange juice cup. “I don’t want to get rid of it.”

  “Okay,” I say slowly. “What do you want to do?”

  “Carry it to term. And then…” She swipes at a rogue tear before turning her blue eyes on me. “I had goals, Canny. Big dreams. I wanted to go to Julliard.” A ragged hiccup of a sigh escapes her. “And Damon…”

  I fist my hand, swallowing down my anger. “He’s eighteen.”

  Sadness is chased off by a fierce expression. “We both consented. It’s not about his age.”

  Try telling the law that, sis.

  “He got offered a scholarship to the University of Florida. It’s close, but he can’t play ball with a baby.”

  At this point, I don’t feel sorry for Damon, but I bite my tongue. “So, what are you saying?”

  “Does it make me a bad person if I want to put it up for adoption?” Her eyes grow watery again. She’s just a kid making a grown-up decision.

  “Of course not,” I assure her. “How will you handle the attention at school, though?”

  “I can still play the violin.” She lifts her chin. “Everyone else can go to hell. Even Paige.”

  “Why Paige? I thought she was your best friend.”

  “I only hung out with her because you were with Naomi. She’s changed this year. Once she finds out I’m pregnant, she’ll want to distance herself from me. I know her. She’ll be thinking of her popularity, not me.”

  I reach over and take her hand in mine. “Whatever you do, I’ll be there for you. You know that, right? If it’s abortion or adoption or keeping it. I’m here.”

  She nods and squeezes my hand. “You’ve always been there, Canny. Always.” Her gaze darts over her shoulder before she brings it back to me. “What happened up there?”

  Dread washes over me. I pull back my hand to rake my fingers through my still-wet hair. All I want to do is drag Alis into my arms and assure him we’ll figure it out just like I promised my sister, but I can’t. At least, not yet.

  “Me and Alis…” I trail off, shooting her a helpless look.

  Her eyes widen. “But you hated him.”

  “Back then,” I agree, “but things changed.”

  “Apparently,” she says with a snort.

  “I love him.” My voice grows hoarse. “He makes me happy. Like so fucking happy. And now.” I swallow hard, dropping my stare to my coffee mug. “Dad and Quinn found out. We knew if they ever did, they’d be pissed. But they’ll get over it, right?”

  She furls her brows as she studies me. “They have no choice.”

  “They could disown us.”

  Her eyes roll. “You and Alis sleeping together have nothing on me getting pregnant at sixteen. Dad’s not going to disown me, so why would he disown you?”

  “You have a lot of faith in that man. Even after all he did to us.”

  “Which is why I believe he’ll get over it. We moved past what he did, even if it fractured our family beyond repair.”

  I like her sensible words. It has me rising to my feet, eager with the need to see Alis. She’s right, though. If we could get past what Dad did to Mom and us, he can deal with this.

  “Come on,” I say to her as I load up the tray with our mess. “Let’s get out of here.”

  After depositing the trash and dishes in the restaurant, we trek back upstairs. Once inside our suite, I make a beeline for Alis’s door and rap on it. No answer.

  “Wonderland?”

  No reply.

  I turn the knob and peek inside. They’re gone. It makes me wonder if we missed them downstairs or if they went next door to talk.

  “Not there?” Carrie asks.

  “Nope.” I let out a rush of breath. “Probably in Dad’s room or at breakfast.”

  She nods, chewing on her bottom lip. “They’ll be back, and we’ll fix it.”

  “I hope so.”

  “In the meantime…” She grimaces. “Want to FaceTime Mom with me?”

  “Scaredy cat.”

  She sticks her tongue out at me. “She’s less likely to yell at me with you beside me.”

 

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