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  Brock

  Four Sons Series

  Dani René

  Edited by

  Word Nerd Editing

  Copyright © 2018 by Dani René

  Published by Dani René

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in the work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  ISBN: 978-0-639-93667-3

  Dedication

  To my Dirty Darklings who asked for two hot alphas to devour. I hope you enjoy the ride!

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Meet the other Sons

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Stalk Links

  Also by Dani René

  Prologue

  Brock

  Time has passed.

  Years even. But there’s still a dull ache in my chest.

  I attempt to shove the memories still haunting me to the darkest recesses of my mind. It’s all I can do. My brothers go to a shrink for their issues.

  Me?

  I fuck.

  I drink.

  And I smoke the occasional joint.

  I’m my father’s son.

  Eric fucking Pearson.

  Watching them slowly move on with their lives makes me wonder if I’ll ever get there. Nixon is all loved up with Rowan and Erica. Hayden has Katie and he’s running Four Father’s Freight. The only one who still gets me is my little brother Camden, but then again, he’s younger.

  Even though we’ve been through storms together, I needed to get away from the drama that seemed to follow the Pearson name back home. They didn’t want me to leave, but I needed to move on, which is why I was all too happy to go away to college in California.

  Hayden wasn’t happy about me leaving home, or that I wanted to be so far away, but I’m not him. He’s taken over the business, and I didn’t want that for myself.

  I miss my father. In the end, the four Pearson boys are still standing. After all the shit that went down when my dad was brutally murdered, I left. I fucking packed my bags and moved out. At first, just out of that horrible house that held such vicious memories, but then, when college started, I was gone for good.

  Now, I live in a beautiful beach-view penthouse with my best friend—the one person I can always count on. And he’s the only one who knows me better than I know myself.

  I glance up from my desk, watching the waves crash to the shore, spotting him with his surfboard, his shorts hanging low on his tapered hips. The tan, chiseled torso I’ve been in close contact with a few times since I’ve known him drips with the salty water from the ocean.

  He makes his way up the beach toward the building where we live on the top floor. Having money offers certain privileges. And having fathers like ours—or in my case, had—means we are spoiled with luxuries other kids at school don’t have. Where most kids are in cramped dorms, we’re living better lives than men twice our age.

  He lifts his head, finding my heated gaze on him, and offers a wave before disappearing from sight. In five minutes, he’ll be walking through the door.

  Before we get to what happens next. Before I tell you all about who I am, I need to introduce you to him. Even though I have four brothers, even though I had a father I loved more than anything in this world and a mother who was killed before I even knew what affection was, he was in my story.

  He was the one who stood by my side through my darkest days.

  He was the one who saved me.

  My best friend.

  My savior.

  Ethan Kingston.

  Chapter One

  Ethan

  They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

  When it comes to me and my best friend, that saying is on point.

  Brock and I are the bane of our professors’ existence, but that doesn’t matter. What does matter is we’re the guys every girl at SoCal University wants to fuck, and it makes me smile whenever I think about it.

  I’ve spent my life around a man I looked up to, my father, Levi Kingston, one of the most notorious playboy assholes in Florida. He used to fuck anything with a tight pussy and a set of tits—until he met my step-mom. Kristyn is gorgeous. The first time I was acquainted with her was a startling awakening. Her curves were on display when I walked into my childhood home to find her naked and all on show for me. My father definitely has great taste in women.

  She’s younger than him—much younger—but he's changed since he’s been with her. The only time I ever recall him showing affection was with my mom. When she died, he became closed off. I was an angry teenager who blamed my dad for screwing things up, but deep down, I knew if he ever had the choice of having my mom back or living his life a bachelor, he’d choose her without a second thought.

  Since the beautiful brunette burrowed her way into his life, he’s the man I remember from my younger years. A caring, doting daddy with a baby who’s been keeping him up all hours of the night. The kid has two loving parents, and I’m proud as hell to have a little sister to watch over.

  I head into the kitchen, my mind still on Dad and Kristyn, and slam into a pretty blonde. Her big blue eyes are wide as she takes in my nearly naked body.

  “Oh,” she gasps, and my cock throbs in my tight briefs. A moment passes, but she doesn’t drag her gaze away from my crotch.

  “Not today, Blondie,” I chuckle, gripping her upper arms and setting her closer to the door so I can get by to the coffee machine.

  As soon as she’s gone, I sigh, grab a mug, and fill it with some strong Colombian java. The place we have just off campus is perfect. With a view of the ocean and our own terrace that offers us space to barbeque and entertain friends from school, I’ve never been happier.

  Brock and I decided to share an apartment when we moved out of our family homes and made our way west to study at the University of Southern California. He needed to get away from the shitstorm his family had been through, and I wanted my independence from my dad.

  As I
sip my coffee, I spy the little blonde heading out without so much as a goodbye and know Brock must be passed out or nursing a hangover. Since we moved in together, things have been a roller coaster. After losing his dad two years ago, he’s been working through a lot. Not so long ago, they had to deal with Brock’s brother, Nixon’s real dad showing up, and that’s when Brock told me he doesn’t think moving home after we graduate is what he wants.

  I think he just enjoys the freedom L.A. gives. We surf whenever we have days off, get drunk, fuck pretty girls, and occasionally get stoned. Even though I’ve known him all my life, it was only when his dad got murdered by that dick, Jax Wheeler that I really got to know Brock Pearson. We quickly found a friendship around our love for partying and living with perpetual hangovers. Since Eric and my dad were best buddies, it was easy to see how Brock and I fell into the same routine.

  Even though all the drama has died down surrounding the Pearsons, Brock is still adamant to live on the West Coast after college. I think it’s his preference to smoke weed and do vodka shots from the belly buttons of dancers in the local strip club.

  Stalking into the hallway, I reach Brock’s bedroom door and shove it wide open, hearing a groan in response. Leaning on the doorjamb, I watch him roll over onto his stomach. He’s naked, his tan, toned body on display for the world to see. We’ve had our moments, a simple touch here, a slip of the hand there, but we’ve never been alone in those moments—never just us. And that’s what I’ve been wanting.

  Only…I don’t know how to tell him or make a move.

  “I told you to let yourself out,” he mumbles into the pillow without looking up at me.

  Lifting my mug, I take a sip of my coffee and chuckle.

  He raises his head, and another groan follows a grunted, "Morning."

  “You’re going to be late." He doesn't have class for another hour, but he doesn’t know what time it is, and I love to watch him squirm.

  “Fuck you.”

  “You wish. Come on, B, we need to get going.”

  He mumbles another incoherent word, which I’m guessing is him cursing at me.

  “Oh, and tell your bimbos to keep their eyes in their head next time they see my dick,” I retort, offering him a side glance.

  Brock moves quickly, shifting onto his ass. He sits on the edge of his bed and pins me with a glare. “Dude, she only looked at you because I was asleep and she probably wanted breakfast.”

  “I don’t feed strays,” I chuckle, stepping away from the doorway. “Now, come on. I don’t feel like being late for Professor Chilton’s class.”

  “Are we heading to that party tonight?” Brock questions before I exit his room.

  I can’t say no to him. We always have a good time, so I turn to my best friend and smirk. “As long as we’re sharing dinner this time, I’m game.”

  His grin is devilish.

  “Now we’re talking.” He shoves off the bed and heads into his adjoining bathroom, leaving me staring after him, unable to help admiring how his muscles flex as he moves. Shaking my head, I can’t help smiling at the thought of sharing dinner with Brock again.

  Like I said.

  Like father, like son.

  Chapter Two

  Brock

  Even though time has passed, I still feel it.

  Anger.

  Frustration.

  And a whole lot of fucking sadness.

  My head throbs like a fucking drum as I try to open my eyes and look at my reflection. The sun beats down on my chest from the open window overlooking the ocean beyond, the heat not helping my hangover. The constant thud feels like there’s a heavy metal rhythm on repeat between my ears.

  Thankfully, the blonde I fucked last night is gone. I don’t need clingy one-night stands sticking around. They’re better suited for a moment of fun. And she was far too squeaky for me to keep her around.

  “Dude,” the voice of my best friend comes from the doorway. “Are you done yet?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” I respond without looking at him. It’s not the first time he’s found me in this state. Normally, he’d be beside me, or curled around the girl between us, but today, he’s on point with the tone of a serious student trying to get good grades.

  The only difference between us and the rest of the fucking student body is our money ensures we’re part of the more elite squad. Since Levi, Ethan’s dad, makes hefty donations to the university, the same way my Dad used to in order to keep Hayden out of trouble, they’ve given us free reign on campus to not only miss classes if we choose to, but own the whole fucking college. At least Ethan isn’t sleeping with the professors like my dear old brother used to.

  Yeah, I get good grades. My GPA is perfect, I study my ass off, and Ethan knows it, but he likes to tell me off when I’m acting like an asshole. I blame that on my father.

  “Quit bugging me. You know I’ll get my ass ready,” I groan, pulling the towel from the rack and hanging it closer to the shower. I know he won’t leave me alone. He’ll stand there like a wounded puppy until I move my ass.

  As much as he frustrates me when he’s in this mood, Ethan Kingston is my best friend and the only one who understands me. Since Dad took a fatal bullet, I may have gone off the deep end a few times.

  Fuck it.

  I practically live hanging off the edge of a cliff by one finger. One day, something is going to push me off and I’ll tumble to the rocks below. Stepping into the shower, I turn on the taps and let the cold water jolt me into action. The smell of the cinnamon soap I use fills the space, and I quickly wash off, knowing I’ll soon have my best friend at the door if I spend too much time in here.

  As soon as I’m back in the bedroom, I feel his eyes on me. I tug a pair of briefs up my thighs. Turning to meet Ethan’s dark eyes, I offer him a cocky wink before pulling on a t-shirt.

  “You smell better than you did this morning with the smell of that blonde’s pussy all over you,” he chuckles, taunting me.

  “Get out of my fucking room, dude, unless you want a piece of this?” I grab my crotch, and we both laugh.

  “It’s the other way around, man, you just want a piece of mine.”

  I chuck the pillow at him, which he easily catches and lobs back, thumping me right on the back of my head.

  “Your ugly ass needs to be in class. We have an exam today,” he says, spinning on the heel of his fancy sneakers.

  Ethan is the artsy one, with a love of surfing and painting rather than the corporate shit his father does for a living. It’s been a sore point between the two of them for years. After Levi Kingston met Kristyn, he calmed down somewhat. Now that they have a kid, he’s changed a lot since the days of he and my dad hitting on every female within a five-mile radius.

  One thing I can say about one of my dad’s best friends is he has amazing taste in pussy. The woman is nothing short of a supermodel. And when she was pregnant not so long ago, she looked even more attractive. Who the fuck knew?

  Shoving the pillow away, I tug on a pair of jeans and make my way into the kitchen to find Ethan at the counter drinking coffee. Even though we do argue, there’s something so much more between us—something I never knew existed. He’s brought me out of the darkness that consumed me.

  The images that ran through my mind at night, every time I closed my eyes, haunted me. Seeing my father’s lifeless body staring back at me was enough to send me over the edge, but it was Ethan who was beside me. He calmed the erratic emotions that attacked me.

  Anger, frustration, and rage consumed me for weeks after. So much so, I wanted to hit anything in my path, throw my fist through a goddamn window, but with Ethan’s guidance, I focused my anger on a punching bag instead of a wall.

  He dragged my broody ass to the gym daily. Without complaining, without so much as an uttered judgment, he was right there with every episode. That’s when we first started sharing women. When I needed a release, he’d invite anything with a set of tits and lithe long legs to his place. The Ki
ngston house was my sanctuary, and now, my sanctuary is here.

  But it’s more than that. Ethan was there for everything I overcame. He was there to ease the agony.

  At times, I still go there, still feel the depression threatening to overtake me, but Ethan remains my savior. I feel his eyes on me, but he stays quiet, and I head straight for the coffee. Three things we always have in our shared apartment:

  Coffee.

  Beer.

  Pussy.

  Isn’t that what you’re meant to do in college—party your days away until you’re supposed to get a full-time job and act like an adult?

  “What’s up your ass today?” I ask, filling a mug before meeting his dark eyes. He looks exactly like Levi—the epitome of tall, dark, and fucking handsome. Girls practically fall over themselves to get his attention.

  “Nothing. Get your shit together, Brock,” he bites out, and I’m tempted to tell him to go fuck himself. But knowing Ethan, he’ll probably retort with some snarky comment.

  “This is my life,” I remind him. “I can do whatever the fuck I want with my shit.” We’re at a standoff. It’s not the first time we’ve butted heads about my partying. He has no say over my life and what I do with it, but I know he’s only looking out for me.

  Our friendship runs deeper than I ever thought. I never wanted anyone in my corner. My heart ceased to beat when my father's did. Even though I’m close to my brothers, losing my dad hurt more than I ever could have imagined. It was a pain so severe, it stole my will to move on.