“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he chants, his voice raw and barely audible.
I rise to my feet, slipping my finger from his ass, and push my wind pants and boxers down my thighs. Smearing my palm over his cum, I use it to lubricate my own dick. His deep wells of brown bore into me, watching me fuck my hand. He parts his pink lips and breathes raggedly as he witnesses my filthy act. It doesn’t take long for me to come. My nuts tighten, and I grunt, sending hot semen shooting all over his wet dick and balls. It runs down, a waterfall over his puckered hole, and drips to the floor.
“I can’t believe we just did that.” His brows pinch together, panic briefly flashing in his eyes. “That was—”
“Incredible.”
A smile pulls at one corner of his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, it was.”
Our eyes hold for a long moment until I can’t help but lean forward, eager for his lips on mine. I never considered myself a particularly needy guy, but something about Alis has me continually desperate for another hit.
This thing between us is reckless.
Fuck if I can find it in me to care.
Alister
Five days later…
I’m going crazy.
Every stolen moment with Canyon is hot and desperate. Now that we’ve crossed this line, we can’t seem to get enough of each other. Twice this week, our dads have almost walked in on us making out in the kitchen.
Twice too many.
I can’t even begin to fucking think about how bad it would be if they saw us. And yet, I can’t seem to stop myself. It’d be easy to blame it all on Canyon and say he’s the one always initiating our encounters, but that’d be a lie.
I want him just as much as he wants me.
Sometimes, I pounce on him like a lion attacking his prey. I crave the taste of him so badly my mouth waters, and my hands often tremble with the need to touch him. I’m addicted to him, like a junkie who can’t seem to shake their hunger for a hit of the drug that keeps them blissed out. To the point that it’s exasperating.
That’s what Canyon is.
A mind-altering drug.
A window into a different reality.
When we’re alone together, I practically devour him inch by inch. The hickeys on his neck and chest are proof of that. I can barely keep my dick in my pants when people are present because all I want to do is jump him.
I’m fucked.
So fucked.
I’m in too deep—my heart and dick tag-teaming against me—to even consider stepping back. I should put distance between us and walk away because if Dad finds out, I’m finished.
Dread is swallowing me whole. Whenever I imagine what the look on Dad’s face would be, a mixture of disgust and anger, I feel queasy, and my temples throb, threatening a migraine.
I love Dad.
So fucking much.
He became the family I always needed.
But because I’m a horny motherfucker, I’m jeopardizing all of it to please my cock.
I don’t deserve this life. Or Dad. Any of it. Like my mother, I am predestined to be a fuckup, no matter how hard I try to be perfect in every aspect of my life.
“What’s wrong?” Canyon asks, trotting up to me on the track, a worried frown on his handsome face.
This is why everything is so difficult.
Him.
Canyon Voss.
My enemy turned lover.
If he were still an asshole, that’d be one thing. But he’s not. I can absolutely see why Nae stuck with him for so long. Canyon is a lover, not a fighter. Sure, he’s spent months being pissed about what Ryan did to their family. In some fucked up tactic, he tried taking it out on me, but now that we’ve stepped over that hurdle, he’s more than likable.
He’s more.
So much more.
So much more than I’ll ever be allowed to have.
“Wonderland,” Canyon barks, jerking me from my wallowing. “Are you going to pass out?”
Coach throws his hands up in confusion when we walk away from where we were supposed to do some practice sprints. Canyon holds up a finger at him and then leads me to a bench the football players use. One of the guys—someone who used to be good buddies with him—makes a disgusted sound and scoots farther away. If it affects Canyon, he doesn’t let it show. It pisses me off, though, that his teammates treat him like shit now.
My jaw clenches as I glower at the guy. Canyon grips my chin, turning my head to focus on him. For a moment, I get lost in his electric blue eyes. His dark hair is drenched in sweat and hangs low over his brows. I crave to run my fingers through it and make it stick up like I do when he gets out of the shower.
An ache forms deep inside my chest.