Reckless at Westbrook High (The Kingston Brothers #2)

by Bethany Winters

  I don’t.

  My mom’s still dead.

  It doesn’t matter what we do, she’s gone and she’s never coming back, and even though I’m happy we’re no longer living under the same roof as the evil little snake who killed her, the pain remains the same.

  “There’s a party at Ryan’s house tonight,” Kai tells me, pulling me from my thoughts. “You wanna go?”

  I nod, forcing my features even to hide the way my heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing Levi. Spending the last few days with him while he was half naked and wet most of the time was fucking torture for me and my cock, but I can’t deny I’ve been counting down the hours until I get to see him again.

  Fuck, I’m such a girl.

  Kai cocks his head at me but I ignore it, tipping my chin at the curved staircase in the corner. “How long do you think they’ll b–”

  Just then, Callie screams like Damon’s killing her and I laugh lightly, hopping down off the counter to go grab a hot shower.

  “That’s only the first one,” Kai informs me, grinning while he follows me upstairs. “Bet you fifty bucks he makes her come three more times before he does.”

  I snort and bump his fist. “Deal.”

  Chapter Five

  Levi

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  Ryan tears his eyes away from the fiery red head across the room and looks at me, frowning. “What?”

  “Rachel,” I explain, opening the fridge to grab the cheesecake Stella made for me. “The fuck is she doing to you?”

  He hides a grin and I raise a brow, cutting myself a huge slice before grabbing the whipped cream from the top shelf. I take my plate and drop down next to him at the kitchen island, squirting a shit load over my dessert until it’s completely covered.

  “Fuck, she’s killin’ me,” he groans, leaning his elbows on the counter to run his hands through his hair.

  I laugh lightly and follow his line of sight, watching her roll her hips to the slow beat of the music on the makeshift dance floor in the living room. Wearing a little black dress with her tits and ass on full display for all to see, she smirks and lifts her drink to her lips, purposely sliding her tongue over the edge of the cup.

  “She wants you,” I point out, speaking around my food. “And you clearly want her.”

  “Yep.”

  “So why the fuck are you still sitting here?”

  “Because she told me to,” he says simply, shrugging like that explains it. “I can’t move until she says I can.”

  “Okay..” I draw out, confused. “Wait, what?”

  He sighs and snatches my fork to steal a bite, still looking at her while he speaks. “I told her she was mine when we got back earlier and she got all defensive and shit, said she thinks I only wanted her in Cancun because she was the only girl there besides Callie.”

  “That true?”

  “No,” he says quickly, wincing a little bit when I cock my head at him. “Maybe.”

  I hide a laugh, snatching my fork back. “But..”

  “But I fucking like her man,” he admits, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I never looked hard enough to see it before but she’s not the girl she pretends to be. She’s funny and smart and beautiful and sexy and– fuck, she’s driving me crazy,” he growls, biting his fist when she dips her finger in her rum and coke just to suck it clean.

  “I still don’t get why you can’t move.”

  “She said if I can do as I’m told and get through tonight without sticking my dick in a cheerleader she’ll be my girlfriend.”

  I laugh for real this time, shaking my head at him because I honestly never thought I’d see the day. Ryan’s a straight up player, has been since the night he lost his virginity to the senior prom queen back in sophomore year. He gets bored easy, never fucks the same girl twice, and he sure as shit doesn’t do the girlfriend thing. Right now, though, he’s only got eyes for her. There’re a hundred other girls in this house who’d be more than happy to keep him company tonight, but I haven’t seen him look at a damn one of them.

  He’s serious about her.

  Just then, Rachel walks over with a big ass grin on her face and I tip my chin, shoving a fork full of cream into my mouth. “You’re evil, Rossi.”

  “Thank you, Matthews,” she teases, hopping up onto the counter to drop her ass down between me and Ryan. “Can I have some?”

  I nod and pass her my fork, leaning back in my seat to watch the show because that’s what any other eighteen year old straight guy would do. Ryan knows I’m gay, has done since the night I lost my mind and said some shit when I was drunk and confused a few years back, but he’s one of the only people who do.

  Rachel dips my fork in the cream and lifts it to her mouth, smirking at Ryan while she makes a point to lick it all off. I fail to hide my amusement and he fists his hands on the counter, locking his jaw so hard I’m sure he’s about to crack his own teeth.

  “What happened to you?” she asks me, purposely ignoring him to tip her chin at my face.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing,” she repeats dryly, sliding her ankle over the edge of Ryan’s thigh. “Doesn’t look like nothing.”

  “Rach..” he warns, fucking desperate to reach out and touch her, but she just shakes her head and goes back for more.

  “Sorry, Ry,” she feigns a pout, taking a strawberry from my plate to wrap her lips around it. “I’m not hungry for you yet.”

  He groans and I move to stand, pressing my chest to his back to look at her over his shoulder. “He might not be able to touch you,” I taunt, snatching her left ankle to lift her leg over his head. “But I can.”

  She squeals and Ryan smirks like a madman, leaning back in his seat to admire the space between her open thighs. He moves his eyes over her body and she licks her lips, her eyes never leaving his.

  “You hungry yet, Rossi?”

  She doesn’t answer me so I reach around him to grab the backs of her knees, pulling her off the counter until she’s straddling his lap. The fork slips from her hand and she wraps her arms around his neck, breathing hard while he stares up at her with a look I’ve never seen on him before. I move around them and stand at her back, sandwiching her between us to look down at him. He nods and I take her waist with both hands, leaning over her to speak in her ear.

  “Cause’ your boy’s fucking starving over here,” I tease, lifting her up a little bit to rub her pussy on his cock.

  They groan as one and his hands fly to her thighs to keep her there, but she doesn’t call him out on it. Instead she digs her pointy red nails into his neck and drops her mouth to his, dry fucking him right here in the middle of the kitchen. I smirk to myself and slide my plate from the counter, grabbing a clean fork from the drawer to leave them to it. I finish my cheesecake and place my dishes in the dishwasher, then I grab myself a beer from the fridge and make my way outside. I take a seat on the cushioned couch in the corner and lift my drink to my lips, hiding a grin when I hear the familiar sound of three Lamborghinis pulling up out front.

  Wren.

  Not a minute later, the crowd inside the house splits in half to clear a solid path for their kings and the newly crowned queen of Westbrook High. Damon stays on her back with his hand in hers, Kai stays on her right with his arm wrapped around her neck, and Wren stays right there on her left, leaving her dead in the center of their human triangle. With his phone in one hand and a pre rolled joint in the other, he’s wearing dark jeans and a black t-shirt that stretches across his solid chest and tattooed arms. His dark brown hair looks even darker than usual tonight, probably still a little damp from his shower, and I don’t miss the way he scans the house from left to right like he’s looking for something.

  Me.

  He’s looking for me.

  Just like he always does.

  Ever since the night I sucked his cock in my bedroom here upstairs, I’m the first person he looks for in a room. I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing
it half the time, and I’m not sure whether it’s because he wants to be near me or to make sure he’s as far away from me as possible, but the fact still makes my dick hard all the same.

  He makes my dick hard, period.

  The girls keep their distance for now while a few of the boys step up to talk to them, probably congratulating Damon and Callie on their wedding. Out of instinct, my eyes drop to the waistband of her ripped jeans and I lock my jaw, pissed she’s not carrying her gun in a big crowd like this after what happened last weekend. She’s not my girl, though, and it’s not my job to tell her what to do, no matter how much I want to.

  She’s not mine.

  Just as I think it, her eyes find mine and she raises a cocky ass brow, probably wondering why I’m staring at her, what happened to my face, and why I’m sitting over here by myself, watching them from the shadows. She gave me that exact same look the first time I saw her in the hall of Westbrook High all those weeks ago – the last fucking place I expected to see Callie O’Conner. I bumped right into her on her first day here and froze like a deer caught in headlights, unsure what to say or do, but luckily for me, she didn’t give me the chance. She just gave me that look and walked around me, throwing something about my fine ass over her shoulder while she moved for her locker to switch her books out.

  She has no idea who I am or what I know, and I intend to keep it that way for as long as possible.

  She cocks her head at me like she thinks she’s about to guess what I’m thinking so I flip her off, making her laugh. Keeping her mouth shut, she looks away with a grin and steps aside to get away from the now growing crowd surrounding her, tipping her chin at the boys to let them know she’ll be a minute. She moves for the kitchen but Damon snatches her waistband, pulling her back to his chest to speak in her ear. Whatever he says has her rolling her eyes but she does as she’s told all the same, allowing them to go get a drink with her.

  This is the thing about the Kingston brothers – they don’t trust. They’ve known most of the people here since freshman year and some even longer than that, but they’ll never trust them fully.

  Not with her.

  They’re a family, bound by love, loyal as fuck and damn near impossible to break, but if you try, it’s game over.

  They don’t forgive and they sure as shit don’t forget, meaning when all is said and done here, it’s over for me. I knew that the second I realized she’d become one of them, which is the second biggest reason I hate her. I could’ve had him for life if it wasn’t for her. It would’ve taken work and a helluva lot of convincing on my part, but he would’ve been mine.

  I’m sure of that.

  But now my days are numbered.

  There’s no going back from this.

  As soon as he finds out what I’ve done and what I’ve been hiding from him all this time, he’ll never forgive me. He’ll never choose me over her and I’d never ask him to, but the thought of losing him still kills me all the same.

  I know I should stay away from him, distance myself starting now and let him live his life without me, prevent the inevitable heartache before the truth comes out and ruins us both.

  I should do that.

  But I won’t.

  Can’t.

  I’ve tried, and it doesn’t fucking work.

  He’s all I want.

  He’s all I’ve ever wanted.

  And I’m selfish enough to take whatever time I have left with him until it’s gone.

  Eyes still roaming the crowd, he splits from his family to step outside and I lift my beer to my mouth, unable to stop the way my heart thumps a little harder in my chest when I realize he’s still looking for me. He finds me a second later and his shoulders drop, almost like he’s relieved to see me in one piece, but I don’t miss the slight tick in his perfectly square jaw or the anger flashing in his baby blue eyes.

  He’s mad.

  Fuck, I like him mad.

  He walks over and I shift where I sit, barely resisting the urge to adjust my cock in my jeans at the sight of him. He’s always so calm, the quiet bad boy with an I don’t give a fuck attitude and a lazy ass grin to match.

  Right now, though?

  Right now he looks like he’s about three seconds away from wrapping his hand around my throat and squeezing, and fuck if the thought doesn’t ignite a raging fire inside me only he can put out.

  “You don’t waste a fuckin’ minute, do you?” he bites out, dropping down on the coffee table in front of me.

  “What?”

  “Why are y–” he cuts off, frowning when he gets a look at my hand. “Did go to you see Derek today?”

  “What? No. Why wou–”

  “Why you fightin’ again?”

  I shrug, forcing a grin. “Because I like it.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yep.”

  “You know, you do this thing when you lie,” he informs me, leaning his elbows on his knees to burn the end of his joint. “Your mouth moves, and you say things, but your eyes..” he raises a brow. “They say something completely fuckin’ different.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “You’re hiding something,” he states the fact, plain and fucking simple. “What is it? You get off on the pain or something?”

  I laugh lightly at that, reaching over to steal the joint from his mouth. “You don’t know shit, Wren.”

  “Tell me then,” he whispers, and I can’t help but note the plea in his tone.

  I take a hit and pass it back, leaning forward until my face is just an inch from his. “You want the truth?”

  He nods, waiting.

  I quickly check no one’s watching and slide my ass to the edge of the couch, moving in further to speak over his lips. “Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

  He locks his jaw and keeps his mouth shut, just like I knew he would, but I don’t miss the question sitting right there on the tip of his tongue.

  “Why you really mad, Wren?”

  “You fuckin’ Ryan?”

  I raise a brow at that, following his line of sight to the stupid Gossip Girl type group chat on the phone in his hand. It’s a picture of me in the kitchen just now, a cocky ass smirk on my face despite the black eye, my mouth on Rachel’s ear and my hands on her waist, my eyes on Ryan while I pin her between us. Whoever took this and sent it out obviously thought they were seeing something they weren’t, but that’s Westbrook High for you. You can’t do shit in this goddamn city without someone ratting you out for it.

  Wait..

  I blink and lift my eyes back to his, hiding a grin when it hits me. “Are you jealous?”

  He glares and pockets the phone, taking his lighter out to relight his joint. “Just answer the fucking question.”

  I watch his pouty lips while he inhales a hit, enjoying the way his mouth parts to blow his smoke out.

  I’m gonna fuck that mouth.

  And his ass.

  I’m gonna drive him fucking crazy, shove him down on my bed and tease his tight little hole with the tip of my cock until he’s begging for it.

  A hard kick to my shin has me groaning, a big ass grin splitting my lips when I realize he’s caught me with my head in the clouds and my hand on my dick. I almost push him further, but then I remember the night he kicked my ass on the beach and think better of it.

  He’s not ready.

  Not yet.

  “I’m not fuckin’ Ryan.”

  He nods and releases the breath he was holding, unable to hide the clear relief on his face. “Thank fuck.”

  I cock my head and he curses, dropping his face in his hands like he can’t believe he just said that out loud.

  “Wren.”

  “Don’t, Lev,” he whispers, desperately ripping his hands through his hair like he’s hanging on by a thread. “Please, just.. fuck.”

  I hate this.

  All this pain and heartache he keeps bottled up inside, allowing it to eat away at him day in and day out.. it’s fucking kil
ling him.

  Unable to stop myself, I slide my hands over his thighs and open my mouth to tell him it’s okay, but then he shoves me back and fucks off without a backward glance, moving for the kitchen to grab himself a bottle of Jack from the makeshift bar set up on the island.

  I don’t chase him.

  I want to – I really fucking want to – but I don’t. Instead I drop back in my seat and swallow the rest of my drink, knowing he’ll come back to me once he’s taken a minute to cool off.

  Fuck, I hope he comes back to me.

  Chapter Six

  Wren

  Thank fuck.

  I said thank fuck like a fucking idiot, and if he’d have given me the answer I didn’t wanna hear just now, I’m pretty fuckin’ positive no one would’ve been able to stop me from ruining Ryan’s smug fucking face.

  Just as I think it, he lifts his eyes to mine over Rachel’s shoulder from across the kitchen, raising a cocky ass brow like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

  I should kick his ass anyway.

  Teach him to keep his eyes where they belong and away from what’s mine.

  Mine?

  Jesus.

  He’s not mine.

  I don’t even want him to be mine, and yet every time I see him look at another guy or vice versa, my blood burns with a possessiveness I didn’t even know I was capable of.

  I was never like this with Freya.

  Sure, she was mine – the blond haired, blue eyed little pixie I had my heart set on marrying when I was sixteen and stupid – but I didn’t lose my shit if she’d look at the boys or if they’d look back at her.

  I wanted them to like her.

  Damon couldn’t stand her from day one, Kai barely tolerated her on a good day, Ryan just found her annoying, and Levi.. he hated her just as much as she hated him, and back when she had the balls to stick up for herself because she had me to fall back on, she wasn’t afraid to tell him exactly what she thought of him. They were constantly at each others throats, and I can’t remember how many times I had to tell them to shut the fuck up and chill the fuck out.