Page 19 of Foolish Games

“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 bad family 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.

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