Rival (Fall Away #2)

“Do you think I’d even touch you now? You know what I used to call you? Pussy-on-the-Premises. You were convenient when I needed to blow a load, Fallon.”

She whipped her head around to look at me but couldn’t twist far enough with my weight on her back.

“And don’t think I ever thought it was more than that, either, Madoc. I was bored, and it was cute to see you brag about your skill. I’ve never laughed so hard.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “But I know better now,” she finished.

“Yeah?” I asked. “Spreading yourself around like your mother? You were right, Fallon. You sure are going places.” I pushed off the bed and watched her flip over and sit up. It was then I noticed what she was wearing. A T-shirt and bikini underwear.

Shit. I blinked long and hard.

My dick jolted against my basketball shorts, and I clenched a fist, forcing control. “But,” I continued, “don’t overestimate yourself, baby. You can’t get me kicked out of my own house. I live here. Not you.”

Her chest rose and fell hard, and the anger in her eyes brought back everything I lived for two years ago. Her facial piercings were gone, and I wished she still had them, but her hair was beautiful chaos. The way it always looked at night. She still wore her sexy glasses, and I couldn’t help thinking about those strong legs.

I’d been there.

And her temper? Yeah, the Irish in her was no lie.

“Madoc?”

I sucked in a breath and turned around to see Hannah standing in the doorway in her bikini.

“The Jacuzzi’s ready,” she said, hands on her hips.

I looked at Fallon, still sitting on the bed and her eyes going round at seeing my date.

I smiled.

“Stay,” I told her in a relaxed voice. “Eat the food. Use the pool. And then get a f**king life of your own when you leave.”

CHAPTER 4

FALLON

I knew exactly how I felt about Madoc. And I knew why I felt that way. I hated him. I hated what he did to me. But why in the hell did he hate me? I scrubbed my face, going through my morning rituals, while I thought about him. Madoc had been rude last night. Volatile. He clearly despised me. That wasn’t part of the plan.

We had left things unfinished, but what was his problem? He got what he wanted, didn’t he?

Why was he so angry?

I dried my face and threw on my glasses, heading downstairs as I replayed his words from last night.

“Do you think I’d even touch you now? You know what I used to call you? Pussy-on-the-Premises. You were convenient when I needed to blow a load.”

He was never that cruel. Not even before we started—

A loud scream echoed through the long corridor heading to the stairs, and I stopped.

“Madoc, put me down!” Addie’s voice rang from downstairs somewhere. I crossed my arms over my chest, realizing I was still in my tank top with no bra, and Madoc was still in the house. But I quickly dropped them again.

He’s still here. Good. This was where he needed to be, and now I wouldn’t have to work Addie to get him back home.

I tipped my chin down, straightened my shoulders, and headed downstairs. Entering the kitchen, I saw Madoc standing behind Addie and reaching over her shoulder to dip his spoon into the batter she was mixing. His easy smile that always reached his eyes stopped me short, and I narrowed my eyes.

Stop smiling, I mentally ordered him. I narrowed my eyes even more so that my eyebrows were probably touching.

He flipped the spoon upside down and stuffed the chocolate-looking goo into his mouth as Addie tried to snatch it back. He twisted away, and she tried to swat him on the head, but they were both laughing.

“Don’t double-dip, you little brat! I taught you better than that.” She shook her big wooden spoon at him, flinging drops of batter onto her white shirt despite the apron she wore.

Madoc winked at her and walked to the refrigerator, silver spoon still hanging out of his mouth—go figure—and grabbed a Gatorade.

My gaze lingered on the huge tattoo across his back, stretching from shoulder to shoulder.

And my heart missed a beat. Was that my name? But I blinked and shook off the ridiculous idea. No. The tattoo said “Fallen.” They had messed up the “e” by inking it to look like flames.

It was a good-looking tattoo, though, and I had to stop myself from dwelling on how it made him hotter. Tattoos made everyone hotter.

My mother—when I spoke to her—was known to comment on how I’m going to look at eighty with tattoos.

I’m going to look awesome.

His jeans hung low without a belt, and he didn’t have a shirt on as if he just woke up and forgot to finish getting dressed. But who was I to talk? I was standing there in my sleep shorts and tank top, looking a hell of a lot more indecent. My hair was everywhere, spread around my face and down my back in knots and tangles.

He was fresh and bright, and I was wilted.

“Fallon!” Addie exclaimed, and I blinked. “You’re up.” She wasn’t fooling anyone with the nervous edge to her voice.

Madoc faced away from me, but I noticed his arm freeze for two ticks as he took a swig of the Gatorade. He recovered quickly, though.

“Yeah,” I drawled out. “It’s hard to sleep with the commotion going on down here.”

Madoc twisted his head to face me and eyed me over his shoulder with an arched brow. He looked annoyed.

His gaze slowly dropped, taking in my appearance or maybe just trying to make me uncomfortable, but my cheeks immediately warmed anyway. He scaled down my chest, over my stomach until he reached my bare toes, and then came right back up to meet my eyes, disgust clear in his blue depths.