A Little Bit Reckless (Court Legacy #7)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER

ONE

Wells

My dick disappeared into this dude’s mouth, and my eyes rolled back.

About fucking time.

It took me forever to get hard, and, by the time I did, I was bored. I shoved him down hard on my cock. “Choke.”

He did, his throat closing around my dick. He started to play with my balls, and I slapped his hand away. People tried to get fancy, and I just needed this dude’s fucking throat.

Yes.

I gave in to the pleasure and finally got hard again. I didn’t know if it would be possible, as it was getting increasingly more difficult to get out of my head these days.

I drilled into this guy’s throat. His name was Brad or Chad or some shit.

“God, Wells,” he groaned, choking on my cock. He tried to talk some more, but I held him down. I hated fucking talkers. Even still, he pulled back, and my dick fell out of his mouth with a pop. He gripped my hips. “Use me.”

I smirked that people actually liked this shit, getting used.

I certainly allowed my clout to get me whatever partners I wanted. It was easy, so I did.

I dug my head back into my pillow as the dude swallowed me whole again. It should be weird doing this shit in my childhood bedroom, but it wasn’t. These sheets got a lot of mileage in high school, but not so much since I went off to college.

Shit, I’m losing my boner.

My dick was literally going soft in this dude’s mouth, and how was that shit fucking possible?

You know how.

Ignoring that shitty-ass thought, I rolled my head back more, until my gaze caught on to its intended target.

I think most people thought I was into The Lord of the Rings because I was a guy, and that was a cool-ass movie.

It was a cool-ass movie, but the giant poster of Orlando Bloom in full-out elven gear wasn’t there because I was into battle scenes and glowing rings.

My hard-on back, I rammed my cock faster into this guy’s throat. I guess I went through a little bit of a Legolas the elf phase in high school. Shit, I was still into that phase, considering my choice to dye my hair white blond.

When this guy attempted to leave my cock and angle up to kiss me (and touch my fucking hair), I shoved him off me. His eyes flashed. “Hey—”

His mouth was back on my dick. His eyes rolled back as I fucked into his mouth and, where I should be using the elf poster in my face as a visualization to get off, I wasn’t. Another face came into my mind. One with a smart mouth, brown eyes…

My orgasm on the brink, I gripped the fucking Legolas poster in anticipation. I was almost there. One more thrust and—

“Wells!”

Shit.

I fell off the bed rolling away from this dude and I was glad I had because my pants were there. The guy on my bed popped his head over the side. He was a redhead. Go figure. He blinked. “Shit, man. Is that your—”

“Wells Ambrose, you better hope to God you’re not up there, because your mother and I have a bone to pick with you!”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I assumed what the guy just heard answered his question about who was yelling my name. This was a modest-size town, but everyone knew the Ambroses. We were one of few families who built Maywood Heights into what it was. Everyone knew my parents. Everyone knew me.

That’s the last time I bring a dude home from the fucking gas station.

I found his clothes and shoved them at him. He was only in his boxers.

I started to point toward the window for him to leave but heard footsteps on the stairs.

What the fuck!

I had no idea how my parents knew I was home, but since it was the weekend, that made sense. I often came back from college to do laundry and shit, and when the guy on my bed wasn’t moving fast enough, I shoved his ass in my bathroom.

“Don’t say shit,” I bit out before slamming the door in his face. I had just enough time to get my pants back on before my door flew open and my father’s face appeared.

I looked a lot like my father, which was something I took advantage of. He was what I called “funny guy” handsome. Like the “Ryan Reynolds that probably could have been a serious actor but decided to go the funny route instead” handsome. My dad liked to laugh, but he wasn’t fucking laughing today.

He sneered at me, and my mother stood beside him.

I got my fairer features from her. She was a really tall lady with brown hair and a face that could fit right in with all those beautiful women from regency novels. Her personality also fit that era as she was hella proper and shy.

Honestly, I had no idea how my parents got together. Especially because they were technically stepsiblings. They didn’t grow up together or anything weird like that, but, needless to say, I didn’t talk about that shit a whole lot. I mean, who the fuck would?

Dad stood in his brown suit with his arms folded. Although he was in the food service industry, he worked in an office. He was a franchise owner of multiple locations.

Mom didn’t work a formal job but she volunteered a lot in the community.

My parents were literally yin and yang, and maybe that was why they worked. My dad was the funny guy, and Mom was the one who laughed.

Again, there was no fucking laughing today, and even my mother was upset, which meant a red face indicating frustration, disappointment. That shit was almost worse than my father giving me daggers for eyes.

Despite the predicament I appeared to be in, my parents loved their kid and I knew how to work that shit. I also got the funny-guy thing from my pops, so I came over cool as a cucumber.

I put out my arms for hugs. “Hey, fam. What’s up…”

My warm greeting was ignored when my dad marched around my ass to the bathroom. He ripped the door open so hard and fast I thought he’d pull it off the hinges.

“Out,” Dad barked at the guy in the bathroom, and I palmed my face. My parents obviously fucking knew me.

I swear to God they had some kind of sixth fucking sense. They caught me more than once with a guy or girl in my bed. Sometimes there were both and those moments were really fucked up.

They also made my really vanilla mother cringe. I was sure my mom had fun in her own day, but no one was trying to walk in on their kid in the middle of a threesome.

My mom placed a hand toward the door. “Please.”

Her face managed to get even redder as she directed my latest (almost) conquest toward the door.

Her change in tint obviously came from the awkwardness of the situation.

My dad’s redness came because he was fucking pissed.

I thought Dad might actually grab the guy and throw him out himself, but Chad or Brad was quick.

“Sorry,” the guy mumbled to my parents before basically turning into Sonic the Hedgehog and racing out the door. The dude had the boldness to whisper “text me” to me before leaving. I probably wouldn’t. Bro barely got me hard, and I had to look at an elf to keep me there.

“Wells, I swear,” my dad started and took steps toward me before my mom got his arm.

I mentioned my mom was tall, and Dad was too.

He played sports in high school, and, if my parents didn’t want me getting laid, they shouldn’t have been as pretty as they both were.

Mom was basically built like an and had an ethereal beauty that went with it.

Dad had a more rugged look, and, even though he wasn’t an overly huge guy, he was sturdy and could have played sports in college too.

Dad sighed. “Sit, please.” He added the please because my mom was around.

Had she not been, he’d be frying my ass. I sat on my bed. “What’s—”

Dad shoved a letter in my face. It had my name on the top but was obviously not in an envelope.

That didn’t surprise me, since my parents knew I didn’t care if they opened any mail for me while I was away at school.

All my mail was supposed to be forwarded to Pembroke, my university, but if something slipped through, I always had my parents open it so they could text me if something was important.

I made a mental note to revoke that privilege when I saw the big words “academic probation” stamped on the top of the letter. I took it. “See, um, Dad, the thing is…”

“Don’t bother explaining. You’ve obviously been messing around in college like you do here at home,” Dad said, and I assumed he was referring to the guy he literally just threw out of his home.

Dad closed his eyes. “I’m done, Wells. You’re fooling around on my dime, and you’re not doing it anymore. Your mother and I are cutting you off.”

Cutting me… off.

The words were foreign, and my brain didn’t compute. My mouth parted. “Cutting me off as in…”

“No. Money,” Dad emphasized, and my heart leaped. Dad nodded like he knew. “That’s right. Starting today, consider the bank that is your parents done. That means no access to credit cards. No clothes, no trips, no cooking gear.”

I swallowed. My parents knew I had a YouTube channel and social media where I did cooking thirst-trap content.

I cooked with little clothing on and did some playful squeezing (or teasing) with the food.

Nudity got you flagged, so I always wore an apron or kept my clothing tight.

I used my face and body to my advantage, and I think that was why people watched, but they stayed for the food, which was the point.

Yeah, I did a little mind trickery to get people to watch, but it was always about the food. Always.

I could get by without the clothes on my channel and socials obviously. I could also do without expensive trips with my friends. I’d hate that shit, but I could do it. But if I didn’t have my cooking gear… I shook my head. “Dad, how am I supposed to cook if I have nothing to cook with?”