Page 88 of Kings & Carnage

The fight had probably lasted less than two minutes.

"What the fuck got into him?" Oscar asked.

Rock looked down at me with a knowing grin but didn't have a chance to say anything before Neo stomped toward us.

Marge hadn't even declared a winner when he grabbed my arm, rough enough to make me wet.

He dragged me toward the exit. "Your ass is mine."

Chapter40

Willa

Iwas in my room doing homework a few days after the fight when I heard Oscar leave his room and head for the stairs.

I glanced at my phone for the time, and jumped up from my bed, and went to the door, listening for his retreating footsteps. This was the time of night when he, Rock, and Neo liked to play video games so I figured I had at least an hour before Oscar would be back in his room.

I'd never seen the Kings do homework or even talk about it but they were all still going to classes at Aventine, so whatever they were doing, I guess it was working.

And if there was one thing I’d learned about the Kings in the last few months it was that they were a lot smarter than I’d given them credit for.

I cracked open my door and eased into the hallway, then paused just to make sure no one was coming. When it remained silent, I hurried for Oscar's bedroom, let myself in, and closed the door behind me.

His scent permeated the room, causing a reactive heat to bloom between my thighs.

Fuck me.

These boys really had me wrapped around their giant talented fingers.

As always, Oscar’s room was neat, his bed made, books neatly lining on one bookshelf while his favorite DVDs lined another. Soft light emanated from a single lamp on one of the nightstands, casting a cozy glow over the room, dark in the winter evening.

A TV stood dark in the sitting area, and I knew he rarely used it, preferring the big screen and surround sound in the media room. I felt bad encroaching on his personal territory but I hadn’t been able to get the gallery in Blackwell Falls out of my mind. I knew he would never submit his photographs, but they deserved to be seen, and maybe when this was all over, he’d actually be able to live on his own terms.

Maybe we all would.

I looked around, trying to figure out where he might store his printed photographs, then headed for the desk set against one wall.

But it didn't feel right. I couldn't even imagine Oscar sitting at a desk to do homework.

Still, I had to start somewhere, and I opened the desk drawers, doing a cursory glance for his photographs.

I didn't linger, because I really did feel bad snooping. As soon as it became obvious the pictures weren't there, I closed the drawers and moved on, resisting the temptation to pick things up and take a closer look.

Oscar was an open book with me but I still didn't want to take advantage of his trust.

I straightened and looked around the room again, thinking about Oscar.

His photographs weren’t work. They were… personal.

I crossed the room and headed for one of the nightstands.

I was about to pull open the drawer when I heard the door open behind me.

I froze, then spun to face Oscar, leaning in the doorway.

My face burned. He'd caught me snooping red-handed.

I expected him to be angry, but he was just leaning in the doorway with a sexy-as-fuck smirk on his face.

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