Rival (24 page)

Licking my lips, I pinched my eyebrows together in confusion but didn’t push it.

Who the hell cared right now? The couch, the chair, the floor . . .

Grabbing my hand, he pulled me over to one of the other leather couches, swung me around, and brought me down on top, straddling him in his sitting position. His erection rubbed between my legs, and then . . .

Whoa!

He slid both hands into the string of thong at my hip and ripped them clean off.

My panties were gone, and my core pulsed so damn hard that I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

I was uncontrollable. I dove into him, sliding my tongue across his lips and lifting up as he rubbed his tip into my entrance.

“Oh, Madoc,” I panted.

Damn, that felt good.

I held his face in my hands and looked into his eyes, unable to stop grinding on him. “Why did you leave me in here alone that night?” I ventured. I assumed that’s why he was uncomfortable with the other couch. Maybe that was why he hated this room.

“I didn’t mean to.” His eyes were apologetic. “I covered you up,” he breathed out, shutting his eyes with the pleasure of my movement on him, “and went to get a shower. I’d planned on coming back down to wake you up, but by the time I got back, you were gone.”

All this time I thought he’d had his fun and just went up to bed, leaving me.

“I hate this fucking room,” he finished. His mouth closed but then opened again, looking like he wanted to tell me more but didn’t.

I grabbed the remote and turned on the stereo. Lorde’s “Team” came on, and I clutched the leather sofa behind him with both of my hands and lowered myself onto him slow enough to drive him crazy. “I’m going to make you love it again,” I promised.

He filled me up, and I dropped my head back at the feel of him inside of me.

He let out a low growl and hooded his eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

MADOC

“T
here you are,” a voice says behind me, and I tense.

Turning around, I see my stepmother, Patricia, and I don’t hide the frown at seeing her in her short white silk nightie.

Clutching the bottle of water, I slam the refrigerator door shut and try to keep my eyes averted. My head feels staticky from the liquor at the bonfire, but it doesn’t dull the awkwardness of this situation.

Her long blond hair hangs loose, but it looks freshly styled as does her makeup, and her posture isn’t modest. One hand on the kitchen island, another hand on her hip, she sways playfully and smiles.

“Where’s my dad?” I snip.

“Asleep,” she sighs. “In his room. Did you have a good night?”

Why was she being so nice lately?

“Yeah, up until now,” I answer flatly.

I’d just gotten back from a race and a hell of a win against Liam. And I got to see Tatum Brandt race for Jared. Along with the bonfire afterward, it had been an entertaining night.

But I am tired and not in the mood for whatever poison Patricia wants to spew.

I walk around the island, heading out, when she steps in front of me.

“Madoc.” She puts her hand on my chest, and I inch back. “You’ve gotten big with the working out. You look good.” She nods her approval and gives me innocent eyes. “Did you know that your dad’s having an affair?”

Jesus. What the hell?

She definitely isn’t hiding much in that nightie, either. I can see inches of her cleavage and the tan, smooth-looking skin of her arms, legs, and shoulders. Patricia works out a lot and takes care of herself very well with my father’s money. At forty, she looks much younger.

A ten-ton brick crashes in to my stomach when her lips inch in for my neck.

What. The. Fuck?

I push her hand away. “Are you for real?” I’m almost breathless with shock.

Walking past her, I stomp down the hallway and dive in to the theater room. The only place I want to be anymore. Slamming the door, I walk over and plop down on the couch—the one Fallon and I were last together on—and drop my head back, closing my eyes.

My heart is thundering in my chest, and my whole body is hot with anger.

I can’t believe it. My stepmother just came on to me.

With my head swimming, I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to get my head straight from my alcohol-induced blur. The cool leather at the back of my neck calms my breathing.

I don’t understand why, after all this time, I still end up sleeping in this room most nights.

Fallon left. She never really liked me, so why did I want to be reminded of her betrayal?

But still . . . this is the place where we spent the most time together, sometimes in silence and one time not-so-silent.

“Look at me,” Patricia says, and I snap my eyes open.

“Get out!” I shout, my lips tight in seeing her standing in front of me.

Why didn’t I lock the fucking door?

I stand up and get in her face. “This is my room. Get out.”

Her eyes flash with excitement. “You’re in a mood. I can see why Fallon feared you.”

I shake my head. “Fallon didn’t fear me. I don’t know what she told you, but—”

“She couldn’t handle you, Madoc.” She looks up at me, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. “She’s in your past. You need to move on. She certainly has.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s dating someone at her boarding school,” Patricia says, and my heart rings in my ears.

I barely register Patricia’s hands on my chest, rubbing me through my T-shirt.

“She doesn’t even talk about you or ask about you, Madoc. I ask her to come home for visits. She won’t. She doesn’t deserve the man you’ve become.” My eyes close, thinking about all of the time I spend in here, all of the nights thinking about her, and I know it’s a waste of time. I fucking know it. Sure, I dated, too. I hooked up—not as much as I bragged to Jared—but there had been girls. My heart never belonged to any of them, though.

Patricia’s whisper wafts across my neck. “I know what you crave. What will please you. And I can keep secrets.”

She closes the distance, wrapping her arms around my neck, and smashes her lips to mine.

She moans, and all of a sudden I can’t breathe.

No . . .

No.

No!

Grabbing her by the shoulders, I shove her away from me.

“Jesus Christ!” I yell. “What the fuck?”

Her skin is flushed, and she arches an eyebrow. “No?” she laughs. “I don’t think you mean that, Madoc.”

I want to hit her. I actually want to slam her into a wall and erase her from the planet. Most of all, I want her out of here.

“Out,” I order.

Smirking, she walks to the couch and lays down on it. “Make me,” she challenges. “But you’ll have to touch me to do it.”

I stare down at her, lying in the same place I’d last seen Fallon. Her hand rests above her head, and she looks hideous. Like something I never want to remember.

I straighten my expression and speak low. “Leave tomorrow, or I’ll tell my dad about this.”

I should tell him anyway.

But maybe I don’t feel like protecting my father right now. Maybe I want him to suffer in this marriage. Maybe I hate him for bringing both of these bitches into our house.

Or maybe if I lose Patricia, I fear losing Fallon for good.

I don’t know.

I walk out, leaving her on the couch and get out my phone.

Are you up?
I text, but I’m already heading for my car without waiting for a reply.

My phone buzzes.
I’m in bed. You have to come to me.

I shake my head, knowing that’s not a problem.I need to blow off some steam. Jess Cullen, the cross-country captain, and I have a friends with benefits thing going, and I love her to pieces. Not love her, love her, but I respect her, and she’s a good girl.

I punch in a reply.
Be there in ten.

See you soon.
I left and never entered the theater room again. Not until tonight. Many times I even entertained the idea of hosting a bonfire for that fucking couch that’d now been ruined by that
woman’s sleaze. But after that night, she took a lengthy vacation, and I didn’t see her until yesterday morning when she threatened to take Fallon away from me.

When I’d seen Fallon’s note tonight, instead of getting excited like I’m sure she wanted me to, I’d groaned. I didn’t want to be in there, and I for damn sure didn’t want her in there.

Who knew how she’d react if I told her the truth? It certainly wasn’t important, but I didn’t want to risk something else fucking with our happiness again.

Carrying her up to bed that night, I leaned in and kissed her hair. Fallon, like me, had seen her parents living exactly how she didn’t want. Lucky for us, our vicarious experience felt like we’d already made our parents’ mistakes. We knew what we wanted now.

Even though I knew she was strong, it didn’t stop me from wanting to protect her and give her everything.

No one and nothing would stop us.

•   •   •

During the next couple of days, Fallon and I started getting things sorted out in Chicago. She went to class, while I handled the paperwork of withdrawing from one school and transferring to another. At night, if she wasn’t doing homework, we got online to look for apartments.

Fallon had been trying to contact her father to tell him about our marriage, but when she contacted one of his men, he’d said that Ciaran was “unreachable” at the moment.

Which meant he was being detained for questioning, probably. No one was “unreachable” in the twenty-first century, unless their cell phone had been confiscated.

“Daniel,” she spoke to one of her father’s men on the phone, “if I don’t hear from my father by tomorrow, I’m going to the police myself. I, at least, need to know he’s not dead.”

It was Thursday night, and she was sitting on the couch in Jared’s apartment, while Tate and I had just gotten back from a run. Fallon normally joined us, but she’d opted to stay in and make her calls.

Jared was still at ROTC training, and he’d been gracious enough to let Fallon and me have the extra space in the loft of his apartment this week.

“Shower?” I asked Fallon as I tore off my sweaty T-shirt.

She held up a finger for me to wait, still talking on the phone.

Tate was still breathing hard as she walked into the living room and grabbed her phone.

“Jared’s mom called,” she said more to herself.

After pushing some buttons, she held the phone to her ear, calling Katherine back, I would assume.

I walked into the kitchen, grabbing a Gatorade out of the fridge as they had their conversations. Jared walked in, slamming the door and just as sweaty as Tate and me.

“Toss me one of those,” he said, gesturing to the Gatorade in my hand and using the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.

Throwing him mine, I snatched another one out of the refrigerator, and we were silent for a few minutes, drinking and catching our breaths.

“This shit’s for the birds,” he grumbled, yanking his shirt by the back of his neck and pulling it over his head.

Yeah,
my throat itched with laughter.

Jared in the Army—or whatever branch he was choosing—was still weird to me.

Jared as part of a team. Jared following orders. Jared pressed and dressed in a uniform. Jared as a leader? For the good of mankind? I still shook my head at the idea.

“So get out,” I told him. “There’s lots of stuff you could do with your life. Stuff you’d be good at.”

He looked at me like I had three eyes. “I’m not talking about ROTC. I’m talking about Tate. Look at her.”

I tipped my head around him, watching her on the phone. It was October, and she was running in short shorts and a tank top. Probably to tease him.

I smiled. I liked Tate a lot. There was even a time when I wanted her. But she was like a sister now.

The kind of sister I wouldn’t screw, I mean.

“What about her?” I shrugged.

He scowled. “She’s driving me nuts, that’s what. She wears stuff like that to turn me on, and it’s working. I’m actually Googling ‘ballroom dancing’ to find out if it’s really that bad.” He looked at me, wincing. “I’m caving.”

I threw my head back, laughing. “You look like you’re about to cry,” I choked out.

“Well, would you do it?” It sounded like an accusation.

I rolled my eyes. “How long have you known me, dude? There’s not a lot I wouldn’t do.”

He blinked long and hard, knowing that that was true and then turned his head to watch Tate, probably daydreaming about all the things he was missing out on.

Fallon hung up and walked over, smiling as I put my arm around her.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

She nodded. “For now.” And then she scrunched up her nose. “You need a shower.”

I shot a look to Jared. “Can we have the bathroom first?”

His fist tightened around the Gatorade, and I felt sorry for him. He probably wanted to do the same with Tate, and he was hurting.

“All right,” Tate called. “We need to pull together for this, so listen up.”

All heads turned to her as she walked up to the bar in the kitchen.

She arched an eyebrow in Jared’s direction but withheld eye contact, and I had to fold my lips between my teeth to stifle a laugh.

“Your dad.” She looked at me. “And your mom.” She finally looked at Jared. “Are going to your family’s charity function tomorrow.” She then looked between Fallon and me, talking about our parents’ Triumph Charity for Disabled Children.

I absorbed what she said, surprised but not uncomfortable by the news.

My dad and Katherine were appearing as a couple at his and his wife’s charity function.

That would be awkward for some people. Not me, though.

“So,” she continued. “Katherine has invited us to attend, but I think it’s more for moral support.”

“Did she tell you that?” Jared asked, looking concerned.

“No, but I just got the impression. It’s her first public appearance with your dad”—Tate looked to me—“and his wife and her friends will be there.” Her eyes snapped to Fallon, an apology in them. “I’m sure there will be talk. We have a family table, so all of us will be seated together for dinner.”

I jerked my chin at Tate. “Is Jax going?”

“She said he’d be there.”

“Okay, then.” I cleared my throat. “Let’s do it.”

“Fallon?” Tate picked up her bag off the barstool. “Meet you after your noon class tomorrow, and we’ll go shopping?”

“Sounds good.”

Tate looked up to me, ordering, “And you two get tuxes.” She referred to Jared as well but didn’t look at him.

She swung the strap of her bag over her head to rest at her hip and grabbed her jacket, walking to the door.

“Where are you going?” Jared snapped.

“Back to the dorm,” she barked, rounding the wall leading to the door. Fallon and I couldn’t see her, but Jared shot her a death glare.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind about dancing,” she singsonged, taunting him.

He scowled but then his eyes widened, and he shot out of the chair. “Did you just flash me?”

We heard the door open and slam shut, and he left, chasing after her.