Page 24 of Foolish Games

Robert repeats her words in a mocking tone, and she shakes her head and slides into the car, not even bothering to acknowledge me before she drives off. Like I’m nothing, just a member of the help she’s already forgotten after he provided the service she needed.

Fuck her and her fancy car and her nerd boyfriend and her slick, tight little cunt that clamped down so hard I thought I was going to shoot my load in my pants just from finger fucking her.

“Come on, let’s grab a beer and find some pussy,” Rob says, throwing an arm around my neck and steering me to the FHS fire, our earlier beef forgotten.

We grab some Solo cups of beer and settle in close to the fire, since it’s a cold night. Diana drapes herself on my lap, but I fucked the cheerleader for a few months last year, and despite her best efforts, I’m not interested in going down that road again.

An hour later and a few too many beers in, I’m buzzing with alcohol when she starts kissing my neck and whispering in my ear what she’ll let me do to her. I lay my head back, temptation winning as her hand dips into my jeans.

“I’m so wet,” she whispers in my ear. “Feel me.”

Suddenly, all I can think about is Vivienne, how wet she was in the car, how fucking incredible it felt to fly through space that way with her cunt clenching around my fingers.

“I’m good,” I mutter to Diana. “Keep going.”

I picture Viv’s hand around my dick, how good it would feel, how she’d squeeze me and suck me and—

“You’re so hard,” Diana moans into my ear.

What the fuck am I doing? Why am I thinking about my best friend’s sister when I should be thinking about this hot, willing girl in my lap? Sure, I’ve been down this road before, but it’s not like we’re getting back together. One night won’t hurt anything.

And hey, if it gets Vivienne out of my head, it’ll be worth it.

But as I close my eyes, all I can hear are how fake Diana’s words sound, her moans like something out of a bad porno. Was she always like that, and I just didn’t notice? Are all the girls I fuck the same way? I’m usually too busy trying to make them cum so I can get mine and be done with it to notice anything else. But now I can’t stop noticing, can’t stop remembering the noises Vivienne made in the car, the wordless cries of pleasure, and how savagely she cursed at me when I made her cum even as she tried to hold back…

“This isn’t working,” I say, opening my eyes and sitting up.

Diana’s hand slips from my boxers and she slides off my lap and lands on her ass in the dirt. She lets out a huff of indignation and jumps to her feet, brushing off her jeans. “It might work if your dick was harder,” she snaps.

“I don’t get hard for sloppy seconds, even my own,” I say, reaching for my beer. “Sorry, but you’re old news, babe. Go find a dick you haven’t bounced on—if you can.”

She leans down, grabs my beer, and throws it in my face. “I’m not the slut here,” she sneers. “Good luck finding a girl you haven’t already played. You know, we warn each other about assholes who treat us like shit. You think you’re all that, but if you keep this up, no one’s going to want you, Sebastian.”

She spins on her heel and marches off while I’m still wiping beer out of my eyes. Okay, so I deserved that one. I’m not exactly proud of it, but her words aren’t far from the truth. I’m not one of those guys who tries to run up the score sleeping with lots of girls, but I have a short attention span and a busy life. If a girl doesn’t fit into my schedule, I cut her loose. I justify it by telling myself they all know up front what kind of guy I am, just like I know what kind of girl fucks guys like me.

As I look around at the party, though, the pickings are looking pretty damn slim. I can’t find a whole lot of girls I find attractive who I haven’t already let go. Maybe I need to cast a wider net. But when I glance over at the Willow Heights bonfire, I don’t see anyone interesting enough to pursue. Rob doesn’t seem to share my opinion. He’s over there flirting with a Black girl in a flowered bucket hat and matching pants. I groan and drop my head back on my chair. The only person I’m interested in pursuing right now is the one person I can’t have—his sister.

nine

#1 at the Box Office: I Know What You Did Last Summer

Sebastian Swift

“Well, hello, Benjamin!” Lexi says, holding up a hundred-dollar bill with both hands before bringing it in to smack her cherry-gloss lips against it. “Not too shabby for six hours of work.”

“You know where that’s been, right?” I ask, leaning against the railing at the Hockington’s loading dock, where we all went to have a smoke after collecting our pay from the Founders Ball.

“In a stripper’s ass crack,” Billy says, throwing his arm around his cousin’s shoulders.

“Ain’t no strippers in this town expensive enough to get hundies in their cracks,” Lexi says, digging in her tiny backpack that looks like a stuffed animal and functions as a purse. She tucks the bill inside and pulls out a pack of smokes.

“Too bad,” Maddox says, tucking his own pay into his wallet. “We should have one of those classy joints with high class strippers.”

Lexi snorts. “Why? It’s not like you could afford to go there.”

“Burn,” I say, laughing and punching Maddox’s shoulder.

“Shut up,” he says, shrugging me off. “You can’t afford your own date.”

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