Foolish Games: A Brothers Best Friend Fake Dating Romance

seven

Vivienne Delacroix

“Oh, I will,” Sebastian says, stepping in and wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him and pushing his thigh between mine. “I’m about to show you exactly how it’s done, Princess.”

“What are you doing?” I blurt out as he starts moving to the music, his thigh flexing against my center when he moves. A couple other people are dancing behind him, watching us with curiosity.

“You’re on my turf tonight, Princess,” Sebastian says, grinning down at me as he pushes his hips against mine just enough so I can feel his dick pressed to my stomach. “None of that ballroom dancing shit here.”

“Okay,” I say with a faint laugh. I’m not used to being manhandled like this, and I know I should be offended, but excitement coils inside me at the masterful way he takes control of my body with his. He doesn’t even seem to care that his friends are staring.

The knowledge that I’m being watched sends a tingle of excitement through me, and I throw my head back, wrap my arms around his neck, and move my body in rhythm with his. When the song ends, and he grabs my ass with both hands and bends his knees enough to grind his erection slow and deep between my thighs. I gasp at the sensation of his hardness biting into me. Tommy whistles, and someone else lets out a whoop of encouragement.

Heat pulses hard in my core as the blood rushes to my center. My cheeks warm too, and I push away from Sebastian, who chuckles and releases me.

“To be continued,” he says, smacking my ass before turning and ambling deeper into the kitchen. I take a second to get myself together before following. Chaz has always been respectful and unassuming when he touches me. Sebastian is the opposite, presumptuous and unapologetically rude about shoving his dick against me or slapping my ass like he has permission—and in public, too.

My pulse flutters at the prospect of what the night may hold.

It’s not like I don’t know about parties. Sure, my own party experiences have been pretty lame. Most consisted of going to someone’s house and watching the guys sit around playing video games while the girls wait for them to get bored and notice them instead, and maybe listening to some terrible high school band trying to play “Stairway to Heaven.”

I’ve heard about the wilder parties, of course. My parents are too strict to let me attend the Darling parties, legendary for their debauchery, though. It’s not really my scene anyway. I’ve never even had the urge to sneak out to one of them, though I’ve heard about what goes on there—sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll on full display and open to all.

“Kick off your shoes and get your hands dirty,” calls the tiny girl who was standing at the railing outside. Her dark honey hair is in pigtails with the ends tucked back in, forming loopy things that looks like dog ears on either side of her head. Steam billows around her as she stands at a big stainless-steel sink, her hands buried to the elbows in foam. A guy with wavy, light brown hair stands behind her, bracketing her arms with his, kissing the back of her neck and grinding against her ass while they both wash dishes and move to the beat of the next song thumping from the radio. Beside them, two guys are rolling their hips sensuously while loading an industrial sized dishwasher. Others are scraping plates and pans, wiping down counters, and scrubbing a grill surface. Everyone is dancing.

The room is overly hot and steamy from all the cooking that went on earlier and the cleaning happening now. The thought of taking off my shoes and walking barefoot makes me cringe. The floor is grimy, and I don’t even have to touch it to know it’s sticky. But I committed, and I’m not going to let them think I’m some kind of snob who’s too good to join them.

Gingerly, I take off my heels one at a time. My feet nearly swoon with relief at being out of shoes after hours of dancing. I sigh as I set them on the floor, trying to focus on the comfort of being free instead of the sensation of the cool, clammy surface against my soles. I make my way over to the sink, trying not to step on the hem of my satin gown.

“Jump on it,” the girl calls over the music, moving over to give me one side of the sink. The guy dancing behind her goes along, much to my relief. It’s one thing to dance with Sebastian, but the rest of these people are strangers.

“I’m Lexi,” yells the girl. “This is Theo. My cousin Billy’s over there with Maddox, and I guess you know Sebastian?”

“From school,” I say. “I’m Vivienne. You go to FHS, right?”

She’s vaguely familiar, so I know she does, but we’ve never had a class together, so I don’t know her. The same goes for at least half the faces here. I only know the football players because, well, everyone knows the football team. Even if my brother didn’t play, I’d know them. They and their popular girlfriends make up the elite court at our school.

“Tony and Theo go to Willow Heights, but the rest of us are Wampus Cats,” she says, gesturing around with a gloved, soapy hand.

We talk for a minute, then wash dishes in silence for a few songs. When a familiar beat starts on the radio, Lexi lets out a whoop of excitement. A few others from around the room cheer, and someone turns the volume to max as “Gin and Juice” blares out. Everyone in the entire room has congregated to the wide center aisle of the kitchen, jumping around or grinding on each other as they belt out the verse at the top of their lungs.

A pair of strong hands lands on my hips, and I glance over my shoulder, relieved to find Sebastian behind me. I reach back to loop an arm around his neck, letting myself relax for the first time all evening. He slides a hand around me, flattening it on my belly as he pumps his hips against mine. I tighten my tummy, acutely aware of how big his hand is, how warm it feels through my thin dress, and how much he can feel of me.

“I’m surprised you know this song,” he murmurs into my ear. “Do your parents let their pretty little princess listen to this kind of thing in your mansion on the hill?”

“You’d be surprised what goes on behind closed doors in some of the mansions on the hill,” I say, trying not to let bitterness creep into my voice.

Sebastian laughs low in my ear, and a delicious current of heat spreads through my limbs as our bodies move together. When his hand has slowly migrated its way to just below my bellybutton, I grab it to stop him from openly groping me in public.

“I have a boyfriend,” I remind him.

“Do you?” Sebastian asks, slowly rolling his hips so I can feel that he’s hard from dancing with me. “I seem to remember you ditching Little Nerd Boy Chad to hang out with me. So, I suggest you forget him and his ‘good family’ for the night, and let me show you what a man from a badfamily can do for you.”

“So show me,” I challenge. “That shouldn’t require me to forget that I have a boyfriend.”

The song ends and Sebastian releases me, then steps back, holding my shoulders and looking me over.

“This won’t work for our kind of party,” he says, dropping to his knees on the tile floor, which Billy and the guy they called Tony have started mopping, though they haven’t reached us yet.

“What?” I ask, shying away.

Sebastian grabs my hips and pulls me back to him, steadying me in front of him. Then he grabs my dress with both hands and yanks in opposite directions. The ripping sound sends a wail straight to my soul.

“What are you doing?” I cry, trying to twist away. “This is Saint Laurent!”

“What’s that?” he asks, tearing another gaping hole in the skirt. I grab the haltered top of the dress, sure he’s going to rip the whole thing off me.

“Stop!” I yell, not caring that everyone turns to look. I take a step back, but it only rips another gash in the dress.

Sebastian yanks off the final piece, leaving me in a ragged-edged garment that reaches almost to my knees in one place and barely covers my ass in another. I fight back tears looking at the beautiful, ruined gown.

But then Sebastian’s warm, rough hands wrap around the backs of my calves, and he smiles up at me, his eyes taking me in as if for the first time. His palms slowly move up, pausing behind my knees and then continuing until he’s palming the back of my bare thighs. I swallow hard, lost in the heat of his candy-apple green eyes.

“Y’all best get out of the way, or I’m going to mop you up,” Billy says, reaching us with the mop.

“Damn, girl,” Sebastian says to me. “Why you hiding these sexy things away?”

“Shut up,” I say with a self-conscious laugh, swatting his hands away.

He rises, and we help finish up for the next few minutes. At last, someone turns off the lights, and everyone holds the door open and piles out. The excitement in the air is palpable as everyone recounts the job well done and speculates about the party ahead. I pick up my shoes and follow. Suddenly someone grabs me from behind, sweeping me off my feet and into a pair of strong arms.

“Sebastian,” I say, laughing. “You don’t have to carry me.”

“Can’t have the princess getting her feet cut up on my watch,” he says. “You ready to see what the fuss is all about? Because you’re about to be Sebastian Swift’s girl for the night.”

I hold onto his neck, my shoes hanging down his back, and give him my sternest look. “Do I need to remind you I have a boyfriend?”

“Not tonight you don’t,” he says. “Tonight, you have a sex god.”

“Oh my god,” I say, rolling my eyes and laughing with embarrassment.

“That’s right, I am your god,” he says. “Until morning, anyway.”

“Let me guess. Tomorrow you’ll be some other girl’s god?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” he says with a grin, not looking at all bothered by my assessment of his player ways. “Or I could be yours again tomorrow night, if you play your cards right.”

“As if,” I say, turning my face away.

“Where’s your chariot, sweet maiden?”

I can’t help but laugh despite my annoyance. “I’m not as sweet as you think.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he says, nuzzling against my ear. “When I taste you.”

A shiver of lust sweeps over my entire body at his words. I have to shake my head to clear it, and I point to the Corvette in the lot.

“Damn,” he says. “I’m not sure which is sexier, you or your car.”

“Definitely the car,” I say, grinning as I look over my baby.

“Can I drive?”

I snort. “Not in a million years.”

“You’re killing me, Smalls,” he says, stopping at the driver’s door. “Shit. You don’t have a purse. Where are your keys? Don’t tell me I don’t get to ride in this with you after you dangle it in front of me. You’re a worse tease than a stripper.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hey, I can get laid once I leave the strip club. There’s lot of pussy in this town. There’s only one little red Corvette.”

“I should make you walk just for saying that,” I say, reaching down the front of my dress and digging the key out of my bra. I checked my coat and bag inside, but I’m not about to hand my key to a valet. I don’t trust them not to take the car for a little joyride while I’m busy.

“Thank god,” Sebastian groans, bending his knees so I can unlock the car. He slides me into the driver’s seat and jogs around to the other side, hopping in like he thinks I’m going to take off without him. I start the car, and “Strawberry Wine” rolls from the speakers. I turn it off so Sebastian can hear the engine purr for a minute before he tells me to follow a two-tone brown Ford Lariat and an old El Camino, both with truck beds full of the others from the kitchen.

“Where to?” I ask, shifting into gear.

“You’ll see.”

“I’d rather know,” I say, grinning sideways at him as we pull out onto the road. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Oh really?” he asks, biting back a smile of his own. “I thought you had a boyfriend.”

“Let’s see if you can handle the ride first.”

“Trust me, I can handle you, Princess,” he says, resting a hand on the back of my seat. “The party’s at the quarry. You know it?”

“I’ve been there,” I say, not adding that it was for swimming with my friends over the summer, not for a party or a parking lot hookup like other kids. Chaz is too worried about getting busted by cops in the middle of sex to ever do it in the car, and my friends are more into parties where we don’t have to overcome social anxiety and talk to strangers.

I wait until we pull up at the first stoplight, then look over to see the truck full of his friends next to us. Lexi and another girl wave wildly to us, and a couple guys give us thumbs up and grin, admiring my car. When the light changes, I shoot forward, swinging the car in front of them.

Billy honks, even though I didn’t cut in too close. The truck’s engine roars behind us, and he comes up close, then swings into the next lane to pull up beside me. We both stop at the next light, and some of the others yell to us, though I can’t hear what they’re saying.

Sebastian looks at me sideways. “What are you up to over there, Princess?”

“Nothing,” I say, unable to keep the mischievous grin from my face.

The light changes, and we both surge forward, though I keep the Corvette neck and neck with the truck. We weave in and out of the sparse traffic until we get to the ramp to I-40. I let Billy pull ahead, watching the party in the back pumping their fists in triumph that they “won.” I smile to myself, biding my time. Lexi stands up and starts shaking her ass, while someone else thrusts a liquor bottle into the air.

I gun the engine, gliding up on the tail of the truck until I’m so close I can read the label on the bottle of Heaven Hill vodka. Checking the mirrors, I make sure I have a clear shot onto the highway. The moment Billy’s tires hit the interstate, I shoot around him, flying past in the passing lane.

“Holy shit,” Sebastian curses, grabbing onto his seat.

The engine purrs with joy as I shift again, watching the dial as the speed climbs. Billy’s truck is roaring toward us, moving slow with all the weight but trying its best to gain ground. I shift again and zip forward, streaking through the night as we approach a hundred.

I grin at Sebastian. “I thought you said you could handle the ride.”

“You’re full of surprises, Princess,” he says, reaching over and laying a hand on my bare knee. “But I can handle it. The question is, can you?”

He slides his hand up, and my foot jerks, letting off the gas when he reaches the apex of my thighs.

“Stop it,” I bark, trying to get my legs together and his hand out. “You’re going to distract me.”

“Then you better keep your eyes on the road.”

His fingers massage my silk panties against my flesh, and I feel heat building between my thighs against my will. Billy’s headlights are approaching in the mirror, and I press my foot on the gas again, determined to ignore Sebastian.

“Seriously, quit it,” I growl, squirming in the seat to free myself of his fingers.

“I think you like it, Princess,” he says, slowly stroking the damp fabric. “You’ve soaked through your panties already.”

Heat creeps up my neck and into my cheeks, and my clit throbs when he traces a finger over the seam of my lips. My whole body feels flushed, and I can barely focus on the road. I grip the wheel with both hands, fighting the urge to close my eyes and moan as his finger toys at the edge of the fabric.

“You want me to finger this sweet little pussy, don’t you?” he asks, leaning in and brushing his lips against my bare shoulder. “You want me to make you cum at a hundred miles per hour.”

“Sebastian,” I say through gritted teeth. “Stop it.”

“Why?” he asks, pushing a finger under my panties and stroking the smooth, bare skin at the edge of my pussy. “I know you like it.”

“I don’t,” I grit out. “And it’s dangerous.”

He chuckles and slides his finger in, pushing it through the thin strip of hair and into my slit. “I think you like the danger, Princess.”

I gasp, swerving a fraction before regaining control.

“I don’t,” I snap. “You almost made me wreck.”

“Then why are you dripping wet?” he asks, his finger gliding through my folds to my clit, where her strokes me in a slow, torturous rhythm.

“Do you know what will happen if I lose control going this speed?” I ask, glancing at the speedometer, where we’ve topped one-ten.

“Live fast, die young, baby.”

“I’m not planning to die tonight,” I say, renewing my grip on the wheel.

“Then you better not lose control,” he says, pushing his hand down between my legs and sinking a finger slowly into me.

My whole body is wracked with a shudder, but I don’t let up on the pedal. He’s right. I do like the danger, the speed, the wildness of the moment. As scared as I am, it makes me even wetter, so wet I can hear the slick sounds as he fucks his finger in and out.

He groans low in his throat and nips the skin on my shoulder.

“Jesus, Vivienne,” he murmurs, palming the front of his pants with his other hand. “You’re so hot. I want to taste you so bad.”

“Stop, Sebastian,” I say, my protest sounding weak even to my own ears. My knees drop open for him, and he pushes his finger up into me as far as it will go.

“Not until you cum,” he growls, raking his teeth over my skin.

“I have a boyfriend,” I gasp out as he strokes around my clit with his thumb, keeping his finger buried deep.

“Then fucking cum for me so I can stop,” he says, his voice a desperate groan. He pushes a second finger against my entrance, and I gasp, my knees spasming.

“I can’t,” I say through panting breaths. The car streaks forward, the world outside a dark blur.

“You can,” he says, working the second finger in. “Relax and stop fighting it. Let me make you feel good.”

Suddenly, taillights appear in front of us, and my adrenaline spikes, my walls clenching around his fingers.

“Just drive,” he moans, thrusting deep with two fingers, his thumb sweeping back and forth across my clit faster and faster until I’m whimpering. I whip around the other car, relief rushing over me as their headlights disappear behind us.

The exit comes up so fast I almost miss it, and I jerk the wheel and let off the gas, still flying as we eat up the ramp in seconds.

“Fuck,” I swear, slamming on the brake.

“Cum,” Sebastian growls, curling his fingers hard inside me. My hips jerk, and I buck against his fingers as we take the curve without stopping at the sign at the top of the ramp. I fight to keep control, turning into the spin as my walls begin to clench rhythmically around Sebastian’s thick fingers.

“Oh my god, fuck, fuck,” I pant out as I get the car under control just as the climax crests inside me. I cry out, lifting my hips and spreading my knees to let him strain deeper, circling his fingers inside me while my core pulses out the orgasm.

“You feel so fucking good, Princess,” he growls, sinking his teeth into my shoulder again, then licking my skin and sucking it into his mouth. “I want to taste every inch of you. Especially this juicy little vice grip.”

“Get off me,” I growl, trying to get my breath and press my knees together. I squirm the other way, but his hand is squeezed between my thighs, his fingers still inside me, feeling every irregular pulse left as the aftershocks squeeze my walls around them.

“I think you mean get you off,” he says smugly, clearly thinking this is all fun and games, just a chance to gloat about his prowess and how I’m some dumb nerd who can’t control herself around the big, hot, popular jock who gets every girl he wants. I’m sure I’m no different than all the other girls he plays and leaves heartbroken.

Except I won’t be played, and I sure as hell won’t be left heartbroken. Not by this cocky asshole.

“I have a boyfriend,” I say through clenched teeth.

“You know, I’ve heard those words so many times tonight, they’ve lost all meaning,” he says, slowly stroking his thumb over my swollen, sensitive clit.

I jerk in my seat, barely slowing down in time when the pavement ends and we start onto the dirt road to the quarry.

“You’re going to make me wreck,” I say, taking a hand off the wheel at last and wrenching his fingers free.

Sebastian chuckles. “You mean nerdy little Chad never fingered your cunt at a hundred miles an hour? What a fucking waste. Why are you with that guy again?”

“Because he’s my boyfriend,” I say, nearly yelling the words, as if raising my voice will finally get them through his thick skull.

“And yet, I’m the one with your cum running down his fingers right now,” he says, holding his hand up to examine his slick digits. I can see the shine on them in the faint light inside the car, and I burn with shame and fury.

Sebastian starts slowly licking his fingers, his other hand casually stroking his erection. “You know, you can return the favor before we get out of the car,” he says.

“In your fucking dreams,” I snap, pulling up at the quarry and stopping behind another car parked along the side of the road, since the parking area is full.

“Oh, trust me, Princess, it’s been in a few of them.”

He climbs out of the car and leaves me with that statement. I’m reeling from what he just did, and now he says he’s dreamed about me? What does that even mean?

And why am I worrying about that and not the fact that I just cheated on my boyfriend? If I even still have a boyfriend. At this point, I’m not entirely sure. Maybe my insistence on repeating it over and over was a way to convince myself more than Sebastian.

At this point, my head’s too turned around to be thinking straight. I don’t even know what our earlier fight meant. But I know I need to find out rather than avoiding it, running away and hiding, and partying with Sebastian Swift—football star, bully king, and sex god.

And my little brother’s best friend.