thirteen
#1 at the Box Office:The Jackal
Sebastian Swift
I’m at my usual spot at the top of the stairs when Billy elbows me and nods to the front entrance. “That your girl?”
I turn around, then grab the railing, thankful I’m not on the wide stairs. I might take a tumble down if both feet weren’t planted on the ground.
Viv comes striding in, flicking a strand of pin-straight hair back over her shoulder. Her usual messy waves have been straightened to a silky curtain. Instead of a little flavored lip balm, she’s wearing hot pink lipstick that makes her full lips look so fucking fuckable I’m sporting a semi just from looking at her. Suddenly, I want to jump over the railing, drag her in the bathroom, and sink my teeth into her plump pink lips.
Instead of her usual designer jeans and a girlie top, she’s wearing baggy cargo pants and a crop top that shows off her taut, toned, smooth midriff. My mouth waters with the urge to sink to my knees, pull her in, and run my tongue over every inch of her exposed skin.
Fuck. What is she trying to do, kill me?
Her high-top sneaks pound the stairs as she jogs up, stopping beside us, a little out of breath. “Hey, y’all,” she says casually, like she doesn’t look like the hottest sex I’ve never had in my life. “What’s up?”
“Dude,” Tommy says, eye-fucking my fake girlfriend right in front of me. “Nice.”
“Shut up,” I growl, punching him in the side. I turn back to Vivienne. “Damn, girl.”
“What?” she asks, but she can’t hide the little grin trying to sneak onto her face.
“You look… Like you need my letterman jacket.”
She plants a hand on her hip. “Excuse me?”
“You think I’m going to let my girl walk around giving every guy in school a boner all day? Here, I’ve got my jacket in my locker. Let’s grab it on the way to class.”
“It’s eighty degrees outside,” she points out, glaring as I take her elbow and lead her down the hall. “I don’t need a jacket, Sebastian.”
“You don’t need a bunch of dudes groping you all day because you’re wearing half a shirt,” I snap, stopping at my locker.
“The only hands you need to worry about are yours,” she says, crossing her arms. “And Lexi said you’d like the new look.”
“Lexi?” I ask. “The leader of the Slut Club?”
Her pink lips tighten, and her brows shoot up. “Are you saying I look like a slut?”
Shit.
“No,” I say, pulling her in. I can’t help my hands from going to the exposed dip of her waist, and my eyes about roll back in my head when my calloused palms skim over her silky soft skin. “I’m saying I don’t want anyone but me seeing this much of my girlfriend.”
She glances up and down the hall and lowers her voice to a whisper. “I’m not your girlfriend,” she reminds me.
I’m about to peel myself off her, but before I can, she slides her arms around my neck and smiles up at me from under her lashes in a way that must be illegal in at least forty-eight states.
“It’s just my bellybutton,” she purrs, batting her lashes.
I’m confused as fuck for about ten seconds, until I see Nerd Boy Chad and Chiclet walking by. I gulp down the stupid disappointment that wells up when I realize she’s doing all this for him, not for me. She doesn’t care if it pisses me off to see other guys looking at her. She only cares if it pisses him off.
“Vivienne,” he says, his voice catching like a preteen. Dude probably hasn’t even hit puberty yet. “You’re…”
“Yes?” she asks, turning her most innocent look on him while still hanging around my neck. Chick needs a gold medal or whatever shit they give actors when they win.
“You—you look… Different.”
Chiclet snickers. “I think the word he actually means is desperate,” she says, looking Vivienne up and down. “But then, it’s fitting, considering you have little enough self-esteem to join a harem.”
“I’m sorry, are you talking to us?” I ask. “I can’t understand what you’re saying past those huge teeth. Have you tried going to the dentist? Bet they can file those down for you so you can talk to people and not just other rodents.”
Chiclet’s mouth drops open in shock, like no one’s ever dared to say to her face what everyone’s thinking.
“Come on,” Chaz says, giving Viv one more look that makes me want to snap his neck like the twig it is. Then he takes Chiclet’s hand and pulls her off down the hall.
“You’re going the wrong way,” I call after them. “Fievel went west!”
“Stop,” Vivienne hisses, covering her mouth to hide a giggle.
I start singing at the top of my lungs. “Somewhere out there…”
“Sebastian,” she says, grabbing my face. She pulls my head down.
I don’t think. I just kiss her.
I kiss her because those shiny pink lips are right there, and she’s holding my face like a girl would if she wanted to kiss me, and her dark eyes hide a mystery I want to solve. I press my lips to hers, and time stops. All I can feel is her soft, plump mouth, and all I can think is how badly I want to taste it. I can smell her skin, the scent sweet with a little bite, like scorched caramel. She lets out a little surprised sound against my mouth, and my cock throbs so hard it makes me dizzy.
It’s not a big kiss, but it’s enough to make the whole fucking world stop, turn backwards on its axis. Because all it takes is a single moment to know that I want to kiss her again, and that I’ll never get enough. I want to touch her, and fuck her, and cum inside her and listen to her make that sound again and again until I fucking die. And nothing’s going to stop me.
Not the fact that she’s still hung up on her ex.
Not the fact that she’s my best friend’s sister.
Not the fact that that this is all fake.
“Sebastian,” she gasps, tearing away at last. “People are looking!”
“Good,” I say, sliding my hand around her waist, my knees about giving out when I run my palm across her bare, lower back. I pin her against me, so she can feel how hard that kiss made me.
“We said nothing physical,” she whispers, looking all flustered.
“You loved it,” I say, smirking down at her. I rub my thumb over the corner of her mouth, wiping away a smear of lipstick. Her pretty lips are swollen, her lipstick a mess. Her head may be telling her she’d never go for a guy like me, but her body isn’t. I can tell by the way her pupils are dilated with arousal, her chest rising and falling as her breath comes faster. I’m not the only one thinking that kiss was fucking lifechanging.
“You can’t violate our agreement without asking,” she hisses, widening her eyes at me like I’m missing something.
“You want to tell me what I can’t do again?” I ask, dropping my hand from her face and thumbing her bellybutton. “Because I love a good challenge.”
“You can’t just kiss me anytime you want,” she says flatly.
I crowd her until her back is flat against the metal lockers, then rest my elbow above her head, caging her in. “Is that right, Princess?” I ask, moving my thumb from her bellybutton to the button of her pants. “If you’re not careful, it won’t be your mouth I’m kissing in front of the entire school.”
Her eyes flutter halfway closed, her dark gaze heated as it meets mine from under the curl of her lashes. Her chest is heaving now, and her cheeks have gone a shade darker.
I lean in, resting my forehead on hers while I let my knuckles brush over the fly of her pants. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I ask. “I think the sweet little princess might be hiding a freaky side.”
“Stop it,” she growls, slapping my hand away. She pushes at my chest, but I don’t budge.
“I bet you’re wet,” I whisper in her ear. “You want me to go down on my knees right now? Don’t think I won’t wrap your legs around my neck and eat you out right here in the hall. Just say the word, Viv. Tell me I can’t.”
“Stop,” she snaps, shoving me harder.
I laugh, slowly pushing off the locker and grinning down at her. I’ve got a raging hard-on, but I’m not worried about her knowing. She already felt it. I hope she thinks about it all day, about what it would feel like inside her.
“I’m going to my locker before I’m late,” she says, then stomps off in her high-tops, looking like a backup dancer in an MTV music video.
I laugh as she walks away. Her lipstick is probably all over my face, but I want to leave it there all day, a souvenir of our kiss. I know the guys would give me shit, but I don’t care. I’ll wear it like a fucking badge of honor. I don’t mind if they all know she claimed me with those pink lips. I’ve got another eight and a half inches she’ll be marking with that lipstick before I’m done with her. And until then, I want the whole school to know she’s mine, that if they stare too long at her cute little belly button she’s showing off, they’ll be answering to me.
*
“How long are you going to keep up this charade?” Nerd Boy Chad asks, approaching our table with Chiclet by his side. To make it look more like we’re dating, I insisted on sitting beside Vivienne at the rectangular table instead of across from her like the other tutoring pairs. Since Chaz instantly assumed we were together from our seating position, I’d say it was a smart move.
“What charade?” I ask, squeezing Viv’s knee under the table. It’s been a week, and he’s finally giving us the reaction we want.
“This,” he says, gesturing between us. “You expect everyone to believe that after three years of bullying us, you suddenly got the hots for a nerd?”
“Nerdy girls can be hot,” I say, wiggling my brows. “And freaky.”
Vivienne pulls her knee from under my hand. “Sometimes, you don’t understand a person until you get to know them better,” she says to the couple in front of us. “And once you do, you see the things you overlooked before.”
Chiclet scoffs. “You’re telling me Sebastian Swift has hidden depths?”
“Like an ocean, baby,” I say, grinning at her.
“Even if that were true, Vivienne has more intelligence and self-respect than to forget the way you treated us all that time,” Chaz says.
“Apparently, these muscles make smart girls stupid.”
I flex both arms like Hercules, and Vivienne gives me an annoyed look and pushes my arm down. “Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t you think?” she says to Chaz.
They lock eyes, and even though I know she’s doing this to make him want her back, I don’t like their silent exchange one bit.
“We talked about the self-respect part too,” I say. “I guess when you’re full of eight-and-a-half inches of thick cock, there’s no room left for that.”
Chiclet’s eyes widen, and she glances at Chaz, probably wishing she’d gone for a bigger fish rather than a guy who was already dating her friend. Of all the guys at FHS, why are these two fighting over this puny little nerd?
Maybe he’s not so small after all. Did Vivienne ever actually say he was?
She said he was bigger than my pinky. She didn’t say by how much.
Fuck. Maybe he’s bigger than me.
Viv let me run my mouth, but all along, she might have been thinking my eight-and-a-half inches was puny. No wonder she wants him back even though he’s a piece of shit. Dude must have the biggest brain and the biggest dick in school.
“Vivienne doesn’t care about that kind of thing,” Nerd Boy says. “Which is how I know this is all a farce.”
“Yeah,” Chiclet says. “And we’re going to prove it.”
“How?” Viv demands before I can stop her.
“Easy,” Chiclet says. “We’ve got two intelligent people working against one.”
She turns and flounces off, and I fight the urge to blow a spitball at the back of her head.
Chaz rests his palms on the far edge of the table and leans in, speaking to Viv. “Unless hanging out with this imbecile really has dampened your intelligence,” he says. “Then it’s two intelligent people against zero.”
“What do you care?” I ask, leaning back in my seat and laying an arm along the back of Viv’s chair. “You cheated on Viv. She deserves better, and now she’s getting it.”
“I didn’t cheat,” he insists, turning to her. “I didn’t.”
“You moved on,” she says. “Why do you care so much if I do too?”
“For—for the sake of truth,” he says, clearly not having anticipated that question despite his intellect. “People deserve to know. They shouldn’t be lied to.”
“That’s rich, coming from you,” Viv says, snuggling into me.
Damn, even her head on my shoulder feels good.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chaz asks.
“It means, you were clearly not ‘just friends’ with Krissy when we were together,” Viv says. I give her a little squeeze of encouragement. As much fun as it is to talk shit to little Nerd Boy, it’s more fun watching her take him down a peg. Kinda makes me horny seeing her all feisty like that.
“We were just friends,” Chaz insists. “Nothing ever happened until you and I broke up.”
“But you had feelings for her,” Viv says, her voice going softer with hurt. “And you knew she had feelings for you. Which means you weren’t just friends, even if you didn’t act on them.”
Chaz glances at the table where Krissy is sitting with Michael, watching us. “You’re right,” he says, turning back to Viv. “I can’t help what I felt. But I would never have acted on them if you hadn’t broken up with me. I’m a nice guy, not a cheater.”
“Yeah, well, why don’t you take your nice guy ass over there and leave us alone,” I say. “Viv’s not interested in your excuses or anything else you have to offer. She’s more interested in the not-so-nice things I do to her now that she’s mine.”
“Viv…”
Vivienne straightens her spine and faces her ex. “Sorry, Chaz, but we really do have work to do. And I’m sorry if our being together bothers you. Maybe you should think about why that is and what that says about your own relationship instead of trying to prove something about ours.”
I have to hold back the urge to kiss her, or at least high five her, but I manage to keep my game face on.
“Fine,” Chaz says, pushing off our table and jabbing a finger at us. “But for the record, you did the exact same thing I did. In fact, you did worse. You broke up with me to be with this troglodyte. All I did was move on after you dumped me. What was I supposed to do? Chase after you and beg you to take me back?”
He spins on his heel and marches off like the self-righteous little prick he is.
I squeeze Viv against me, pressing a hard kiss to her head. “Damn, that was hot,” I murmur into her hair. “I’m so fucking proud of you. Watching you take down that little dweeb has me so hard I could bend you over this table fuck you right now.”
“Stop it,” she says, shoving me away and glaring.
“What did I do?”
“Why you have to make everything about sex?” she hisses.
“We’re in high school,” I point out. “Everything is about sex.”
“Maybe for you,” she says flatly, turning to open her book.
“You’re pissed at me for wanting to fuck you?”
“You make it sound like our relationship is entirely based on the physical. We’re not going to convince my friends it’s real if you act like that. That’s why they don’t believe it.”
“Act like what?” I ask. “Myself?”
“Yes,” she grits out. “You make everything vulgar.”
“Look, I told you, I’m not going to pretend to be someone else. If you want some dream guy who doesn’t exist, then let’s just cut the bullshit and come clean.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“But it’s what you implied,” I say. “Anyone who’s had good sex is going to want to have sex. If you don’t believe me, try it sometime.”
“I’ve had good sex,” she grits out.
“If you say so. But we’re not going to convince anyone it’s real if I go from being a guy who loves pussy to one who’s not even interested in fucking his own girlfriend. Especially when his girlfriend looks like you.”
She purses her lips. “Excuse me?”
“Come on, Viv. You’re a fucking knock-out. I get hard just watching you do homework, and trust me, that is not a turn on of mine.”
She ducks her head, turning to the correct page in her textbook. “I thought I was just ‘decent’ looking. But for the sake of our arrangement, it would be nice if you could at least pretend you were interested in more than just one thing.”
I groan and drop my head back.
“What?” she whispers, casting a furtive glance around to see if my frustration drew anyone else’s attention.
I gather myself and turn to her, taking her chin between my thumb and finger and forcing her to face me. “I can’t only be interested in one thing if I’m with you despite being told I’d never get that one thing, now can I?”
“But you’re not with me,” she whispers, her dark eyes searching mine.
“Right,” I say, dropping my hand from her face and pulling my book in front of me.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I say. “You’re supposed to be the smart one, right? Why is it so hard for you to figure this out?”
“Figure what out?”
“You’re arguing your point on a technicality that doesn’t make my point any less true. Just because we’re not really dating, that doesn’t change the fact that if I was after just one thing, I’d be getting it. If not from you, then from someone else, and I wouldn’t be doing this with you at all.”
“Wow,” she says. “Maybe you should apply to Harvard Law with me and Chaz.”
Like I could afford fucking Harvard. Worse, I can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic. I’m sure she is, and I must be missing something, because there’s no way Vivienne Delacroix would compliment me.
“And become an entitled prick like y’all?” I ask, finding the page we’re working on. “Pass.”
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
She doesn’t answer, and after a second, I glance at her.
“What?” she asks.
“No one’s ever called you that before, have they?”
“Not to my face,” she admits, cracking a little smile.
While I wrestle a sheet of paper from the bent rings of my used binder, I catch Viv checking out my arms, so I add a little flex so she has something to really drool over.
She gives her head a little shake. “You’re not sleeping with that girl, then?”
“What girl?”
She shrugs, opening her fancy new binder and unzipping an inside pocket to pull out a little tube of lead and two mechanical pencils. “Krissy saw you at the Battle of the Bands competition with a girl.”
I can’t help the grin that spreads over my face. “Are you jealous?”
She scowls. “No. But you really should have been more careful. There were kids from our school in some of those bands, so of course people went to see it.”
“If you were just telling me to be careful, you wouldn’t have asked if I was fucking her,” I point out, smug as hell and not even trying to hide it. This is too much fun.
“I asked because you said if you weren’t getting it from me, you’d be getting it from someone else.”
“I said that would be true if I was only after one thing,” I point out. “Which I told you I’m not. Therefore, you should be able to deduct with that big brain of yours that I’m not sleeping with her. So, the only reason you asked is because you’re fishing for info, because you can’t stand the thought of me with another girl. Admit it.”
She scowls harder. “You also said if you were with someone else, you wouldn’t be doing this with me. I’m just making sure I know what’s going on in case you meet someone you actually like and want to end this. We have to have a strategy, so it looks believable.”
“Sure,” I say, chuckling.
“I am,” she protests, stuffing the eraser back into the mechanical pencil and handing it to me.
I reach over and smooth the cute little wrinkles between her brows from her frown. Then I lean in and kiss them. “You have nothing to worry about.”
She huffs and slams her binder shut.
I could tell her that I took Mel to the concert to feed her music obsession, but it’s too much fun to let her stew. Her jealousy might be even hotter than her sharp tongue.
“So, does Chaz have a big dick?” I ask, jotting down the first question.
“What?”
“Just trying to figure out what I’m up against here.”
“Sounds like you’re the one who’s jealous,” she says, obviously trying to save face after showing her hand a little more than she meant to.
I just shrug. “Not jealous. Just can’t make him feel inferior if he’s bigger than me.”
“I’m not going to tell you that.”
“Come on,” I say. “How can I scope out the competition if I don’t know what they’re working with?”
“That’s private.”
“Is he bigger than me?”
“How would I know?”
“Because I told you. That was the whole point of our disclosure session on scars and bra sizes. Which, by the way, I’m still waiting for you to tell me.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?”
“I can show you,” I offer, wiggling my brows at her.
“Not interested.”
I survey her tight, V-neck sweater. It looks so soft I want to touch it, and not just what’s under it.
But mostly what’s under it.
“Stop staring at my chest,” she whispers.
“I wasn’t,” I protest. “I was looking at your sweater. Is that cashmere?”
“Yes,” she says. “What about it?”
“Maybe not a C,” I decide. “Could be a big B.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your bra size. Which is it?”
“I’m not telling you that.”
“I bet it’s a B. You probably wear one of those push-ups that makes them look bigger.”
She huffs. “Do not.”
“So, is Chaz bigger than me?”
“He’s not eight inches,” she says, glaring. “Happy now?”
“Very happy,” I say, grinning. “And it’s eight and a half. The extra half inch is the best part. I’m told that’s what makes you see God.”
“Oh my god,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“Look at that, you’re already calling His name, and you haven’t even experienced the eight and a half.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re adorable. Now stop trying to distract me with all this dirty talk and help me out with my homework, would you?”