Rival

I twisted to my left and saw Madoc closing his bedroom door and running straight for me.

 

A knot lodged in my throat. What the—

 

He charged at me like a linebacker, swooped me up by the waist, and threw me over his shoulder.

 

“Madoc! Put me down!”

 

“Shhh . . .” He pushed us through the bathroom door, kicked it shut and planted my ass on the bathroom counter.

 

“Madoc—”

 

But I was cut off. He snatched up my lips, wrapping his strong arms around me and nearly suffocating me with how much pressure he was putting on my mouth. Every time he took a breath, I did the same, because he came back in for more within a heartbeat. His lips moved over mine, fast and urgent, needy and ready. Both of his hands pushed up under my T-shirt, kneading my breasts, and I couldn’t help myself. My hands slid down his black pajama pants, grabbing his perfectly smooth ass and pulling him in between my legs.

 

“I’m going to apologize for my lack of coolness right now,” he gasped out, trying to yank my shirt over my head, but I kept pulling it back down. “I’m hornier than a motherfucker.”

 

“Oh, is it a morning thing?” I crossed my arms over my chest to keep my shirt down.

 

“Morning?” He started jabbing me in the stomach, tickling me to get my arms to release the shirt. “I’ve been up all fucking night torturing myself. I should never have told you to lock your door last night.”

 

He’d walked me to my room last night, ordering me to lock my door. Apparently, he didn’t always know everyone who partied at his house, and he wasn’t sure who all of the people were passed out around the place. I had only seen three bodies when I’d walked through the house, but there could’ve been more.

 

“You were trying to protect me from rapists,” I pointed out, biting my lip to keep myself from giggling.

 

“Yeah, slick move that was.” He smiled down at me, jabbing me continually in the stomach. “I couldn’t get at you, either.”

 

He grabbed my face with both hands and slid his tongue into my mouth, devouring me again. Little needles sprang up over my skin, and I shivered, heat pooling between my legs like a furnace. I grabbed his face too, kissing him back.

 

He took that opportunity to pull the T-shirt over my head in one fell swoop like a magician that pulls out a tablecloth from underneath a fully set table.

 

“Madoc, no,” I commanded pathetically, folding my arms over my chest. “I’m sore from last night.”

 

He pinched his eyebrows together and arched a lip. “Sore? From me? That. Is. Awesome.”

 

Idiot. I shouldn’t have told him that. Now he was feeling like the man.

 

“Well, then . . .” He sighed and pulled me down off the counter. “You’re safe. For now.”

 

Whatever. I blinked slow and hard. I’m in control. I’m in control. I’m in control.

 

Everything was moving in the wrong direction. He made me smile. He made me forget. We had to slow down.

 

We have to stop.

 

He tipped my chin up and his mouth came down on mine. I let him kiss me, not making any effort to return it, but I still couldn’t help breathing in his rich, clean scent. Damn, I loved the way he smelled.

 

He leaned back, smirking down at me. “It’s good to have you back, Fallon.” And then he walked out like he had everything he wanted in the palm of his hand.

 

Damn him.

 

Damn him!

 

I kicked the door shut behind him and whisper-yelled a bunch of words that I’d only ever heard my father’s dockworkers spew. I didn’t emerge from the bathroom for another half hour as I tried to get my head on straight again.

 

Things in Madoc’s life were too easy. He made it too simple to fall back into the fun. His relaxed smile, his carelessness about everything, and the way he was just . . . him!

 

There were problems in this world. Problems in families. Problems in my family and his. Our history was a problem. Why did he always appear as if he didn’t have a care in the world?

 

We’d had hot, angry sex last night after we’d insulted and upset each other. Apparently he didn’t care what had led us there, only that he got his reward.

 

Shit. I scratched my head and closed my eyes as I stood in front of my floor-length mirror. I needed some alone time.

 

Time to think.

 

A nice walk. A good run, maybe.

 

But Madoc was like a whirlwind of activity. I’d almost forgotten.

 

After I dressed in some short white shorts and a Hurley T-shirt, he’d told me to march my ass back into my room and change. After flipping him off and pouring myself some cereal he’d explained that we were going to the lake with his friends, and I needed to get in a swimsuit. When I told him to go screw himself, that he didn’t make decisions for me, he walked around the counter where I stood eating and stuck his hand down the back of my shorts, continuing to smile and talk to Addie with her none the wiser.

 

With my heart missing every other beat and sweat breaking across my forehead, I’d relented, realizing he wouldn’t stop harassing me until I said yes.

 

Anyway, Tate was going to be there, so I looked at that as a plus. We’d also be in public, so I could count on him not to try anything.

 

Or so I thought.

 

? ? ?

 

“Where are we?” I asked as he pulled up to a small, brick one-story house. It sat in a rundown neighborhood with overgrown lawns and ugly chain-link fencing. Although the house itself appeared to be in decent shape—the porch was tidy, and the windows were clean—the brick was dulled with age and the screen door was shoddy.

 

“Come on.” He ignored my question and climbed out of his GTO.

 

Following him, I slammed the door and walked a step behind him up the cement slab walkway.

 

“Madoc. Madoc!”

 

I jerked my head and stared wide-eyed as a boy, about seven, came running toward Madoc and slammed into his body. Madoc caught him in a hug.

 

A tightness gripped my chest, and I sucked in a breath.

 

Blond hair, blue eyes, and long legs. The boy looked just like him.

 

No. I shook my head. That’s ridiculous. Madoc would’ve had to be like ten years old when this kid was born.

 

“My mom said if I wasn’t good I couldn’t go with you, but I was good,” the kid shouted, smiling.

 

Madoc leaned back and eyed him with disgust. “Good?” he repeated. “Oh man, don’t say that. Being good is like what?”

 

Both Madoc and the kid simultaneously stuck their fingers in their mouths and mock gagged. A smile tugged the corners of my mouth, and I had to cover it with my hand.

 

Nope. Madoc wasn’t good with kids. I refused to believe it.

 

“That’s right.” He patted the kid on the back and turned to face me. “Fallon, this is my spawn.”

 

I cocked my head and looked at him disbelievingly, still trying to get the picture of them both sticking their fingers down their throats out of my head.

 

“No, not my real spawn.” He knew where my mind was going. “But he has potential, doesn’t he?”

 

I put my hands on my hips and kept a pleasant tone for the kid’s sake. “Madoc, what’s going on?”

 

He opened his mouth to speak, but a woman came out through the screen door carrying a small backpack.

 

“Madoc,” she greeted. “Hi.”

 

“Hi, Grace.”

 

Grace looked young, definitely under thirty, and she had a nice head of long brown hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. She wore scrubs, so I guessed she was a nurse . . . and probably a single parent from the look of things.

 

“Here’s a change of clothes for after he swims.” She handed Madoc the backpack. “There’s sunscreen, a snack, and some water, too. You’ll have him home by dinner?”

 

Madoc nodded. “We may stop at a bar, but definitely after that.”

 

“Awesome.” She smiled and shook her head at him as if she were used to his cracks. “He’s so excited,” she continued. “Call if you have any problems.”

 

Madoc bent down and put an arm around the kid.

 

“Ohhhhh, Mooooooom,” they both whined as if her concerns were silly.

 

She rolled her eyes and held out her hand to me.

 

“Hi, I’m Grace. And you are?” Good mom. Making sure your kid is safe.

 

“Hi.” I took her hand. “I’m Fallon. Madoc’s . . . um . . . stepsister,” I stuttered, hoping she didn’t hear Madoc’s snort.

 

Technically, I wasn’t lying.

 

“Nice to meet you. You all have fun.” She waved and walked back up the steps.

 

Madoc spun around, and I couldn’t get over how he and the kid not only got along, but how much they looked alike. Both were dressed in long, black cargo shorts with T-shirts. But while Madoc wore black leather flip-flops, the kid wore sneakers.

 

“Fallon, this is Lucas.” He introduced me finally. “He’s my little brother. As in the program. I’m his big brother.”

 

I exhaled. Okay, good. I was glad he’d explained. Because that was weird there for a while.

 

“Wow, they trust you with kids?” I asked, kind of serious, kind of not.

 

“What?” He placed his hand on his chest, appearing hurt. “I’m awesome with kids. I’ll be a great dad someday. Tell her, Lucas.”

 

Lucas looked up at me and didn’t even blink. “He taught me how to tell when a woman is wearing a thong.”

 

I burst out laughing, putting my hand over my mouth.

 

Madoc pulled the kid in by the neck as we walked to the car. “I told you, women are the enemy. They don’t understand skills like that.”

 

 

 

 

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