Twisted Rivalry Read Online Devon McCormack

Categories Genre: Angst, Dark, M-M Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
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I can’t let myself go there for long, not without tears stirring in my eyes and a deep hatred welling up.

Damn Simon for putting me in this fucked-up situation.

Why did he have to drag this poor guy into our family business?

I toss my book on the coffee table and head to my bedroom to get ready for tonight’s rendezvous. After pouring myself a healthy dose of whiskey, I scour through my nightstand for condoms and lube, checking the expiration dates since that’s how long it’s been. Should’ve checked that earlier, but I figured if I didn’t, then Jonas probably would, considering what he’s here for. Besides, if neither of us had protection, we could always swing by Simon’s room. You mind spotting your big bro?

When was the last time I messed around with anyone—a year ago? I don’t have many opportunities, but I’ve had Grindr dates and a few rendezvous with townies when the stress in the house became too much. I’ve even had a few nights with ex-staff members who I quickly learned wouldn’t stick around long if I decided to mix business with pleasure.

I head into the bathroom next, tossing off my tee and inspecting my physique in the mirror. Even though this isn’t about sex, there’s this primal instinct that makes me self-conscious. I’m much leaner than Jonas, with smaller nipples. I wonder if he’ll be interested in this. I consider running through the shower real quick. I took one after my workday, but it gets kind of clammy in the library, so I give myself a quick whiff. Seems fine to me, but if I see him cringe, I’ll just pop into the bathroom for a minute.

I take a swig of my whiskey, savoring the sting, before there’s a knock at the door. Hurrying into the bedroom, I check the antique clock on the fireplace mantel. It’s only eight forty-five, but I guess he wants to get this over with.

I nearly put my shirt back on, but who the fuck am I kidding?

When I open the door, Jonas stands in the hall. His bangs are a little wet, so I figure, unlike me, he thought the extra shower might help. With his hands tucked in his pockets, he refuses to make eye contact.

Seeing that face again is a struggle—am I even going to be able to fuck him? I shake off my worry. I have to push through it.

“Now’s not the time to be shy,” I tell him, urging him into the bedroom.

I want to put up my middle finger and do a quick spin for Simon to see. I don’t know where the cameras are. I’ve found them in the past, but finally just gave up. Even if I find one, he replaces it with another, and by now, I assume he has plenty in place just in case I yank one out when I’m in a mood one night.

“You like whiskey?” I ask. “Gin? Vodka?”

I guide him across my room, to the cabinet beside the mantel. “This is my medicine cabinet,” I joke, but Jonas doesn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes tonight. “I’ve been thinking I wish I’d started drinking a little earlier.”

His shoulders are tense, hands still in his pockets, and he hasn’t looked at me yet.

If he can’t even look at me, I don’t know how the hell he thinks we’re gonna fuck. Although, I guess he doesn’t need to look at me for that.

“I’ll do a shot of just about anything right now,” he says.

I pour him a whiskey and pass it to him, and as I’m topping mine off, he downs half the glass. Then keeps going, and when he’s finished, pulls the glass away from his lips and takes a deep breath.

“More?” I ask.

“Yes, please.”

I smile as I pour him another, and then we head to the bed and sit on the edge. He takes his time with his second round, glancing around my room.

As he turns to me, in my dim room lighting, there’s a moment when I’d swear he’s Kieran—those thick eyebrows, that strong jawline.

But he’s not Kieran, I remind myself.

I’m fine to sit with him as long as he needs to, but regardless of what we say or do right now, I know it’s just a matter of time before I have to fuck this guy who’s the spitting image of my brother.

6

JONAS

Fuck, this is actually happening.

I take another sip of whiskey, savoring this round since I could throw back Ryan’s whole bottle and it won’t change what I’ve got to do.

There’s a queasy feeling in my belly. Had it all the way to Ryan’s bedroom. I’ve had so many chances to change my mind, but I’ve come this far. I might as well follow through.

Besides, I already took that pill Simon gave me to make sure I could get it up.



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