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“I love it when you give up your precious control for me.” I bite my lip as I steadily bottom out. A shudder rolls through Everest’s body, his traps and biceps tensed. For a second, I simply marvel at the contrast between us. The dark ink on my arms compared to his flawless skin. My scars to his softness. Drawing a finger along his spine, I feel every ridge with painstaking slowness. “Do you feel corrupted, Everest?”

“I feel everything, Code,” he almost pants. I grin, rolling my tongue beneath my teeth. Good. It’s not just me then.

Gripping his hips, I look to the ceiling, savoring his tightness on my own groan, before easing my hips back and taking him hard this time. My vision blurs, my balls rising tight enough to burst. I wish I could last for him. Last long enough for this night to be imprinted inside our minds, carrying me through the scheme I’ve concocted. Soon, this will be us every night. Horny, passionate, and together.

On my third thrust, it’s evident I won’t be able to last, so I decide to go hell for leather instead. Pounding into Everest’s ass, I lower my gaze, the room coming back into focus. He shimmies down onto his forearms, the pair of us moaning in time with the slap of skin on skin. Everest meets every thrust, working with me to strengthen the connection we share.

“You’re a filthy fucking whore, Everest Calloway,” I grunt, my hand smoothing along the length of his back. Grabbing a fistful of blond hair, I force him to arch for me. To break for me.

“I’m your filthy fucking whore, Cody Calloway,” Everest bites back. A sadistic smile grows across my face. This is one of the only instances in which I’ll accept being full-named. When I’m nine inches deep in my perfectly ruined stepbrother, marking the bed with his precum. He’s mine to ruin, mine to claim, mine to keep.

Tremors flutter through Everest’s ass, pre-empting the tightening which erupts within. Like the good fucking boy he is, he grips my cock so hard, stars appear before my eyes, and I tumble over the edge with him. My balls clench as my own release fills his ass, prolonged by wave after wave of ecstasy he squeezes from me so beautifully. Our joined orgasms last for an eternity, yet nowhere near long enough.

When I’m sure I can’t hold myself up any longer, I grip Everest’s waist and drag him onto his side, avoiding the mess he’s made on the silk sheets. Then I hold him, crushed against me and panting, placing salty kisses along his shoulder.

For a while, neither of us speaks. We lie tangled in the aftermath, the city lights blinking through the balcony doors. Turning into me, Everest’s breathing gradually begins to settle against my chest, each exhale warming the damp skin beneath my collarbone. These are the moments I live for. The ones I suffer for. If we had this, I wouldn’t need to create schemes like a villain in the shadows. I could let Meg live whatever life she’s trying to rebuild, as long as it’s just me and him, and no one spoils it. Except for Everest, evidently, who seems to have a knack for reading my mind.

“I think if you got to know her, you might like her.”

Like her? Reality crashes down on me like a bucket of ice, washing away any stupid notions I had of calling off the plan. I do well to contain the scoff that rises in my throat, a sudden realization slapping me across the face.

Everest believes that if he pursues Meg whilst holding me on a tether for long enough, that we may become a three. No. That’s not an outcome I can entertain. I’ve bled for this man. Broken, begged and cried for him. Meg’s a distraction that I intend to deal with this weekend. Then, I can finally have Everest back to myself.

Rolling him onto his back, I manage to find a smile. I’m quickly learning that for us to survive Hollowbrook, I need to become Everest’s monster. To hide in the corners, pulling the strings he can’t see beyond his ego. He won’t thank me, he won’t even know what I’ve done, but he’ll only be able to see me by the time I’m finished. Stroking my thumb over his cheek, I place a featherlight kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Don’t start overthinking yet, baby. I’m nowhere near done with you tonight.”

Chapter Sixteen

Something Everest and I have always had in common – we fucking hate parties. Not just due to a dislike of crowds, loud music, or pretending to laugh at jokes that are simply not funny. No, we hate parties because we grew up having to endure them. Last night was for locked doors, soft sheets and the dangerous little fantasy that we could be something real. Tonight is back to the performance we’ve perfected, the one where Everest is distant and cold, and I don’t exist to him.

Calloway Manor was a show home for any and everyone who didn’t actually live there. Every chandelier would be lit, every silver tray polished and ready for the next influx of guests. Everest and I, we were just part of the furniture. Sometimes, I can still hear Nicholas’ voice in the back of my head from before he banned me from being seen.

Stand straight, speak when spoken to, shake hands, accept compliments, let the wealthy strangers gawp all they like. They’d pinch my cheek, comment on my hair, ask whether I was grateful to be taken in by such a generous family. Then they’d turn to Everest with softened voices and tell him he was a credit to his father. A handsome boy, a future leader, a Calloway through and through.

Hence why walking into Everest’s frat house on the night of the Freshers’ Party fills me with nothing but dread. Even if Nicholas isn’t here to wrap his fingers around my arm and mutter threats into my ear, the weight of expectation twists my organs into knots.

And that’s before I see Everest, standing on the upper level, leaning on the railing. A shirt stretches tight across his chest, the darkness of it at odds with the golden halo of his hair. His green eyes are piercing, watching over his annual party from a distance. He doesn’t take part, doesn’t fall victim to his name being chanted or the offers to come down and get wasted like the rest of his guests. He hosts because his public image demands it, and he loathes every second.

Music spills across the open space, bodies moving through me rather than around. I don’t miss the looks of surprise at my attendance, unless it’s the way I stand tall and refuse to be moved that surprises the jocks. I’m not a stranger to being shoved, my thighs locking in place and becoming immovable on instinct. Extending further out, a few freshmen linger too eagerly in the doorway, and several seniors lean against walls, watching on with matching unimpressed expressions. Somewhere from the kitchen, laughter bursts through the music, followed by the smashing of glass.

Within seconds of standing out in the open in my stark white shirt, Everest’s eyes narrow as they land on me, out in the open and not bothering to sneak through the side entrance. To anyone else, it probably reads as irritation at an uninvited guest, but I know the calculation snapping into place behind those eyes. He’s already shifting into performance mode, the cold public mask sliding over whatever softness existed between us last night.

Smothering a flash of surprise, his mouth tightens, his fingers flex on the railing, and then he’s moving. Me being the stubborn dick I am, I move too, walking deeper into the crowd. I track Everest’s movements by the shift behind me, those who were chanting are now cheering. Girls call out his name, no doubt reaching for him. I had hoped his adoring fans would have hindered him from catching up so soon, but the second I grab myself a beer, fingers close around my bicep. Oh, it’s just like old days, after all.

Tugging hard, Everest drags me through the utility room and out through the side door. I casually lift the beer to my lips, taking a swig as I look around at the darkened alley I know all too well.

“Well, isn’t this romantic?” I comment, causing the tic to jump in his jaw.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Reid?” Everest crosses his arms, keeping his distance and using my alias just in case anyone is stupid enough to follow or snoop. The name is a warning as much as a disguise, and although I know better than to let it affect me, it does anyway. He’s not talking to Cody in this alley. He’s talking to the public version of me, the one he can drag outside and reprimand without anyone asking why his hands are shaking.

“Attending a party,” I shrug. “I thought that was obvious.” Leaning back against the nearest wall, I sip on my beer. The air is quickly punctuated by the smell of his expensive cologne, sharp and woodsy against the dampness settling over us.

“You don’t attend parties.”

“I’m making an exception,” I raise a brow. Grinding his teeth, Everest appears torn between punching me and dragging me against him.

“You aren’t invited.”