Addison: Coast is clear, jackass.
Me: Damn, I wanted to see your naked ass. You with the douchebag boyfriend?
It’s an asshole move to text her after I was just fucking around with another girl in her backseat, but I couldn’t stop myself.
Addison: He went home a few hours ago.
I get out and jog downstairs to find the basement empty.
Me: Where are you?
Addison: In my bedroom.
Me: Am I allowed in there?
Addison: Nope.
I frown. Well, fuck. There goes that idea.
Me: I’ll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight.
I set my phone down when I make it to my room and drag my shirt over my head, throwing it on the floor. My phone beeps at the same time I start to unbutton my jeans.
Addison: But I can come down there.
Me: Then hurry your ass up.
I head into the living room without bothering to put my shirt back on and collapse on the couch before turning on the TV, flipping through the channels for something decent to watch while I wait for her.
“Hey.”
I turn around at the sound of her sweet voice. “Hey, back. Sit your ass down now.”
I take her in as she comes closer. She’s in her pajamas, a black tank top and shorts covered in polka dots. I know if she turns around I’ll definitely be getting a show of the bottom of her ass cheeks. My dick is aching to see this girl naked and fuck her. I check her out, focusing on her toned legs, and lick my lips in hunger.
“Did you lose your shirt or something?” she asks, staring at my bare chest.
I want her to drink me up, get turned on, and give me a piece of her. If I have to walk around with my chest out every goddamn day, I’ll do it until I slide my dick inside her.
“I figured I’d give you something good to look at since you don’t get it with your boyfriend.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Oh yeah, and thanks for letting me use your car.”
She gives me an innocent smile and sits down. “No problem. Did you have fun tonight?”
“It was alright.” I’m sure as fuck not sharing the fact I had my hand deep in another girl’s pussy.
Her nose scrunches up. “I can smell alcohol on your breath. You drove my car drunk?”
“I’m not drunk, babe. I only had two beers.”
“So you drank and drove?”
“Two beers is nothing.”
“But I trusted you.” She’s not angry. She looks more disappointed than anything.
“I’m sorry.” I feel bad for letting her down. “But really, two beers is nothing. It doesn’t affect me one bit.”
“Everyone says that until they kill someone.”
“Does two beers get you wasted?”
She sticks out her tongue in disgust, and I want to lean forward and taste it. “I wouldn’t know. Beer is pretty much the nastiest thing on this Earth.”
“You don’t drink?”
“I’ve had wine and … stuff.”
“Stuff?” I ask, curiously. I’m ready to see more of the bad girl come out.
Her eyes don’t meet mine. “Champagne, vodka, tequila,” she rambles off.
“And you keep getting more and more fun.” I tap her on the forehead and jump up from the couch.
“Where are you going?”
“Be right back.”
I rush into my bedroom to grab the bottle from my bedside drawer and head back into the living room.
She holds her hands up when she sees it and shakes her head. “Oh no, that’s not happening.”
I hold up the full bottle of tequila. “Oh, it’s happening, babe. You,” I point to her with the bottle and then to myself, “and me are about to have some fucking fun.”
“There’s no way I’m drinking with you right now. Our parents can wake up at any minute.”
“That’s the fun part, the whole I could get busted thing gives you an even bigger buzz. Plus, I don’t think they ever come down here.”
She fakes a yawn and stretches her arms out above her. “I’m feeling pretty tired.”
I stop her when she goes to gets up. “Nu uh, princess.”
She plops back down. “Fine, but I’m not drinking.”
I screw off the cap and take a long draw from the bottle. It stings as it goes down but tastes like heaven. I try to hand the bottle to her, but she shakes her head. “More for me then. I thought you wanted to shed your doormat image …”
“I’m not a doormat,” she snaps.
“You are so a doormat.”
She stares at me in contemplation. I’m basically the definition of peer pressure right now, but I want her to let loose. I want to see her throw out all her inhibitions and show me the real her.
Liquid splashes against my arm when she snatches the bottle from me. She wraps her plump lips around the rim and takes a drink. I watch her face as she swallows it down, and it shows full distaste. She pulls the bottle away, inhales a deep breath, and then takes another gulp.
“Damn girl,” I say, slowly pulling the bottle away from her.
“What? You said to show you I’m not a doormat. Let loose a little princess,” she says, mocking my voice.
“I said get a little loose, not take a trip to the emergency room, killer.”
She shrugs, a giant grin on her face. “So now I’m feeling a buzz, you happy?”
“The better question is are you happy?”
“I guess,” she chirps. She leans back and starts to get comfortable. “Are we watching a movie or what?”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“We can do whatever you want to do.”
I raise my brows. “Whatever I want?”
She scoots in closer to shove my chest. “We’re not having sex.”
“Is that the only stipulation? Because I can find plenty of fun things to do with you that aren’t necessarily sex. I can use my tongue …”
She shoves me again. “Or anything sexual.”
I frown. “You always take away all the fun.”
She hikes her legs up on the coffee table, and my dick pulsates. Fuck, what I’d do to lick her from her ankle up to her thigh … then to her pussy.
“Is it against the rules that we’re down here after midnight, considering we both live here?” she asks, completely oblivious that I haven’t taken my eyes off her legs.
I take a deep breath. “Fuck the rules.”
“You can’t say fuck the rules,” she whispers, a small giggle escaping her.
“I can say whatever the fuck I want. So can you.”
“I can as soon as I get out of here.” She holds up three fingers. “Three months.”
“And you’ll be leaving for school?”
She nods, anchoring a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Yep. Columbia.”
“Why there?”
“Why not there? It’s Ivy League.”
“That’s you’re reason? Sounds pretty superficial to me.”
“Quit ruining my buzz. I want to be a pediatrician, and that’s where I’ll get the best education. It’s not superficial. It’s me wanting to be great at my profession. The more I know, the better I can help people.”
“I like that. You got heart.” I feel bad for wanting to seduce her for a second, but that quickly goes away when my eyes travel back to her thighs.
“What about you? Are you in school?”
“Nope.”
“What do you do then?”
“I worked at a tattoo shop in Cali, but that’s about it. School is not for me.”
She tilts her head to the side, like she’s examining me. “Why isn’t it for you?”
“First, it costs a shitload of money, which I don’t have much of. Second, I’m not planning on being a doctor or anything, so it’s a waste to go.”
I graduated high school and immediately started working. College was never in the plan for me. I worked a few low paying jobs and then got into tattooing
. I was finally starting to make money before I got arrested.
She nods in understanding. “Why exactly are you here?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m sure it can be uncomplicated.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, tightly squeezing my eyes. “I got arrested.”
She bites the edge of her lip but doesn’t flinch at my answer. “I heard something about that. How did that bring you here, though?”
“After I got arrested, my mom called my dad begging him to help me get a lawyer that I didn’t fucking want. My dad called one of his friends he went to school with. They somehow made a plea deal. Basically, I had to get my ass out of Cali for six months, get my shit together, and then the charges would be dropped.”
“What did you do to get arrested?”
“I beat up a guy.”
“For what?”
“I walked in on him using my mom as a punching bag.”
That was one of the worst days of my life. The bastard had my mom cornered against the wall, his fist pounding into her cheek. My blood boiled. I wanted to kill the fucker. I grabbed him by the throat, threw him down on the ground, and beat the shit out of him. I would’ve killed him if the cops didn’t come in and stop me. The neighbor called them because she heard yelling.
“Then I don’t blame you,” she says.
Her response shocks me. I was sure she’d think I was a bad guy when she found out.
“Drunken conversations are the best. You would’ve never told me that sober.”
I shrug. “I would’ve told you eventually.”
She snorts. “Yeah, right. You don’t like to talk about anything besides pussy.”
I throw my head back in laughter. “Oh princess, you’re already getting used to me.”
A smile itches at her lips for a second until she lets it out. “That means you trust me, though.”
“What?”
“You trusted me enough to tell me that.”
The muscles in my neck convulse. I’m not ready for a serious conversation like this. I don’t like serious conversations.
“I guess that means I do,” I say, my voice low. “And I think you trust me. You enjoy hanging out with me.”
I can feel the alcohol flowing through me as I focus my eyes on her. She's feeling it too. Something shifts, and the room suddenly feels hotter.
My cock springs back to life when I notice goosebumps pop up on her legs. Her thighs clench together. Her tongue dips between the seams of her lips. She wants me as bad as I want her.
She flinches when my hand cups her thigh but doesn’t pull away. I shift her closer, my hand inching toward her heat as she looks up at me with lust filled eyes. I’m ready to take her on this fucking couch.
Her breaths are caught in her throat. I scoot forward, fully ready to run my tongue between her lips before I drive it in her mouth.
Her eyes flutter open as reality hits her. Her palm smacks into my chest, and she pulls away.
“I have a boyfriend,” she whispers.
“Break up with him,” I answer, my tone completely serious.
I’ve been drinking, but the thought of her dumping him makes me feel inflamed.
“I can also smell perfume on you.” Hurt is evident in her voice.
I look down, feeling like the asshole I am.
“I’m not like that. I’m not that kind of girl, Zeth.”
I scrub my hands over my face. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Work on not being that kind of guy.”
7
Addison
So, where’s the sexy stepbrother at?” my best friend, Savannah asks. She jumps up from my bed as I finish tying my bikini top.
“He’s downstairs sleeping, considering it’s eight in the morning,” I answer, pulling my hair up in a high bun.
I feel nauseated from the tequila mixed with thoughts of having to see Zeth after what happened last night. No matter what, it’s going to be awkward.
I almost kissed him. I wanted to kiss him. The guilt I feel from that is sickening. I have a boyfriend. I love Cam … at least, I think I do.
“Good thing we’re going downstairs. I can’t wait to check his ass out,” she says, skipping down the stairs, her black hair moving from side to side.
I inwardly groan. I don’t want her messing with Zeth. I don’t even want her meeting him, but I know there’s a chance because the basement is what leads out to the pool.
Zeth is passed out on the couch snoring when we get downstairs. I notice the bottle we were sipping on last night sitting on the table. I guess he doesn’t care if he gets busted with that.
Savannah tiptoes over to the couch and peeks over the back of it. “Holy shit,” she mouths, pointing to him. “That’s him?”
I hold my finger to my lips, and my tone turns to a whisper. “You’re going to wake him up.” I run over to grab her arm and pull her away from him.
Her face lights up. “I want to wake him up to see more of him.”
I slap her arm. “Go outside. I’ll grab the towels and meet you out there.”
“Fine,” she yells. “If your step-brother just so happens to wake up, let him know he’s more than welcome to join us by the pool.”
I stop in my step and whip around to give her a dirty look.
“Will you be wearing bikinis?” I hear Zeth yell out in a husky voice.
“Damn straight,” Savannah chirps, clearly proud she woke him.
“Be there in five, ladies,” he replies.
I take short, slow steps to the bathroom we store the pool towels in. My stomach twists when I think about Savannah with Zeth. She’s going to try to sleep with him, and I’m sure she’ll succeed. I know he’s not mine, and it’s wrong, but I don’t want Savannah to have him. I don’t want anyone else to have him.
“I like that suit,” Zeth says, startling me when I walk out. I’m greeted with his bare chest again, and he’s already in his swim trunks.
“Thanks,” I say, looking down at myself insecurely. “Oh, and look who’s checking who out now.” I give him a forced smile, trying to make light of the situation.
Hello, awkwardness.
He grins, holding up his hands. His hair is rustled at the top, giving off the whole messy, bedhead look. “Busted and mistrusted. But you can’t come out looking like that and expect me not to look. Your body is fucking amazing, and that suit shows me every curve you’re working with.”
His words seem to always set me on fire. I didn’t want him to think I was a prude, so I chose the skimpiest black bikini I own. I don’t know if I wore it because there was a chance I’d see him, but I’ve never worn it around the house. It’s only graced my body once during a spring break trip where I knew my mom would never see it. But here I am, taking another risk because of him.
The top crisscrosses around my neck, making me look like I have more cleavage than I actually do, and the bottom has peek-a-boo cutouts on the sides.
“Look about last night,” he begins.
“Don’t,” I blurt out, stopping him. “We were both drinking and nothing happened.”
“I wouldn’t necessarily say nothing happened. I know you would’ve been on my dick if you didn’t have a boyfriend, and I wanted you. God, Addison, you have no idea how much I fucking wanted you.”
“I don’t kiss guys who’ve already messed around with girls earlier that night,” I hiss. “Manwhore.”
“Manwhore,” he repeats slowly. “I’ve been called worse.”
“I’m sure you have,” I say, around a huff. I turn around and walk away from him.
He follows me outside, and I discreetly peek over my shoulder to see if he’s checking out my ass. He is.
“Well … well,” Savannah says, getting up from her chair, her eyes glued to Zeth. “You seriously have one of the best bodies I’ve ever laid eyes on.” She looks at me. “I can’t believe you’re living with this and not jumping his bones.”
He winks at
her. “Thanks, babe.”
At least he’s not complimenting her back … or tearing off her bikini and screwing her in front of me.
My nausea increases. Savannah is everything I’m not. She doesn’t even have to try to look sexy in her red bikini. She walks into a room and men are drawn to her. I have no doubt she’s exactly Zeth’s type.
I lay my towel across a lounge chair and sit down. I don’t take my eyes off Zeth when he jumps in the pool. He shakes off his wet hair when he resurfaces and swims to the steps to get out. Is this his way to tease me?
Savannah looks at me, excitement dancing in her eyes. “Holy shit. You better be a good wing woman and make sure I get that this summer, Add.”
Zeth falls down in the chair next to me before I have the chance to reply to her.
“God, it’s so hot out here,” Savannah says, rubbing tanning oil over her arms. She looks at him with expectation.
I know this trick. She’s done it so many times in front of me. She wants him to oil her up.
He surprisingly doesn’t offer anything to her.
“So, how long are you here for?” she asks him.
I pretend I’m bored, studying my fingernails, and act disinterested in their conversation.
“Not long. Six months,” he answers.
A frown spreads across her lips. “Why only six months?”
“Because that’s what the court order says.”
She pushes her chest out and bats her lashes. “Court order. I love me a bad boy.”
“So, you start working tomorrow?” I ask, quickly changing the subject before I throw everything in my stomach up.
Zeth nods. “Yep, they said I’ll either be running the beverage golf cart or serving beer behind the bar. They haven’t decided yet.”
“Looks like I’ll be taking up golf,” Savannah says.
8
Zeth
Do you have a thing for her?” Savannah asks, moving to Addison’s abandoned chair when she goes back into the house.
“What?” I ask.
“Addison, you were staring at her like you wanted to rip her clothes off and give her the business.”
This chick rubs me the wrong way. She’s jealous of Addison. I’m sure of it.
Wild Thoughts Page 4