by Rye Hart
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “I promise to be better. Happy?”
It was the same promise I'd made countless times, and one I could never keep. And judging by the looks on their faces, they weren't buying it this time either.
“Just to keep you honest, we're going to have Vanessa keep an eye on you,” Mitch said. “We want to make sure that you hold up your end of the bargain this time, Carter.”
Vanessa and I looked at one another, and the look of sheer panic crossed her face. I couldn't help but laugh at the delicious irony of the situation.
“I already do enough,” she said. “What else could I possibly do? I can't babysit him all day, every day.”
“Obviously you haven't done enough,” Mitch said. “Because he keeps getting into trouble. If it means you have to sleep in the same house every night, then you'll have to do just that. At least until after the election, and once that's over, we'll reassess the situation and figure things out from there.”
“I have a life of my own,” she said. “I can't babysit my stepbrother.”
“Yes, you can,” Mitch said. “And you will. Because if he ruins this election for me, both of you will be cut off, you got it?”
Vanessa's jaw dropped as she stared incredulously at her father, a dark, angry look crossing her features. I had to admit, none of this was fair for Vanessa. If I were being completely honest, she'd done everything she could to keep me on the straight and narrow. But I wasn't one who liked to be controlled or managed. And besides, I was amused by the whole situation.
“Ah, Vanessa,” I teased. “It won't be so bad. It'll be just like old times.”
“Shut up, Carter,” she said.
“Think of all the fun we'll have,” I said, rubbing my hands together in glee. “I can take you out to the clubs, you can – well, take me wherever uptight girls like you hang out. The library? Knitting club? Oh, I know, you can take me to your book club. C'mon, it'll be a blast.”
Vanessa shot me the finger and a dirty look to go along with it.
“Good,” Mitch said. “It's settled then. Vanessa, you are in charge of Carter until the election is over. He screws up – you screwed up.”
Vanessa looked angry and like she wanted to protest, but in the end, she did what I knew she'd do – she backed down. Giving her a nod, Mitch and my mom left the room. A moment later, just long enough to shoot me another dirty glare, Vanessa followed behind. I heard her voice echoing back down through the foyer as she pleaded her case.
I couldn't help but laugh. Poor Vanessa. She wanted to stay as far away from me as possible because the reality of the situation was that she had a hard time resisting me. But there she was, assigned to be my personal babysitter. Required to spend every waking minute with me.
This could be a lot of fun.
CHAPTER FIVE - VANESSA
I argued until I was blue in the face, but my father refused to listen to me. He told me that he needed my help and that it was my duty to the family to keep my stepbrother in line. He laid the guilt trip on extra thick, telling me that his career literally depended upon me keeping Cater in check and out of trouble. And that if I couldn't do it, if Carter couldn't be controlled, that his political career was over.
Having failed to convince my father that this wasn't my responsibility, I decided that I had only one other option: try to reason with Carter. He was still hanging out at our family's mansion, helping himself to the mini bar in the living room, when I found him. I took a deep breath and tried my best to remain calm when I walked in.
“Why don't we grab some lunch and chat?” I said.
I knew I couldn't be alone with him; that was just a recipe for disaster. Carter was a master at getting under people's skin. He knew all the ways to push people's buttons. And in my case, he knew what buttons to press that would get me riled up and horny. He knew what he was doing and worse than that, he didn't care. He thought it was fun to screw with me like that. I couldn't risk that happening underneath our parents’ roof.
“Sure,” he said, finishing whatever liquor was in his glass. “We probably should figure out our living arrangements since we're going to be spending a lot of time together, after all. So, your place or mine?”
I clenched my teeth and put on a fake smile. “We'll talk about all that,” I said. “I'm not sure it'll come to sharing a roof though. Not if we can come to an understanding.”
“Ahh, of course,” Carter said. “You're going to try to reason with me. I already know your playbook inside and out, sweetie. And haven't you learned your lesson about trying to reason with me before, Vanessa? Didn't you once say that I'll never learn?”
His cocky ass grin pissed me off to high heaven and the urge to smack him upside the head was overwhelming. But at the same time, I had to admit that he was so freaking sexy it killed me. That grin is what attracted me to him in the first place. I'd never met a man so confident and full of himself before.
Back in the day, he'd walked around Elsinore Academy, our private school, like he owned the place. And in a lot of ways, I suppose he did. His swagger combined with his confident grin could persuade any girl to skip class and meet with him in the bathrooms. And yes, I'm ashamed to admit that I was one of many who'd been suckered in by that handsome, chiseled face, and had done some rather unsavory things in the bathroom with him.
“Well, here's hoping I was wrong about you,” I said, trying to remain as composed and put together as I could manage. “I'm starving, so let's try that new place down the street.”
Carter shrugged and followed me out the door. I could feel his eyes on my ass, watching my every movement. I cleared my throat and tried my best to ignore it, to keep a professional distance between us. But, it was so hard not to put a little extra swish my hips, just to give him a little show.
I looked over my shoulder and caught him staring. With a smug, cocky grin on his face, he wasn't even trying to hide it. Nor was he trying to hide the very obvious erection in his jeans.
“I'm assuming I'm driving since you've been drinking already,” I said. “The last thing we need is for you to get a DUI on top of your assault charge. Get in.”
Carter surprisingly, didn't say a word. No arrogant quip or cocky comeback. He simply did as he was told, sliding into the passenger seat and buckling up without having to be told to do it. The ride over to the restaurant was mostly silent, something else that surprised me. Carter just sat there, looking almost thoughtfully at the street in front of the car. I suddenly wished I knew what was going through his mind.
I wanted to slap myself, but as I drove, I couldn't keep myself from stealing glimpses at his crotch. He didn't even try to hide the hard-on he had for me. He was a well-endowed man, which made it nearly impossible to cover up, though, out of decency and respect, he could have at least tried to. But no, he wanted to drive me mad with lust and desire.. As we drove, I felt myself growing warmer and wetter between my thighs by the minute as I remembered how thick and long he was, and how great it felt to have him inside of me.
I licked my lips and cleared my throat, trying to banish those images and memories from my mind; and failing at it miserably.
“You okay?” Carter asked.
I looked over and felt my cheeks flare with heat when I saw the sly little grin on his face as though he were reading my mind It's why he sat there in the passenger seat with a very noticeable hard-on. He wanted me to see it. And he wanted me to crave it.
“Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?” I was clearly flustered, but I hoped he didn't notice.
“Because the cafe was back there a couple of blocks,” he said with a laugh. “Maybe I should have driven after all.”
“Shit,” I hissed. “Dammit.”
Blushing even harder than before, I turned the car around at the next opportunity without another word. I dropped my car off with the valet and we walked inside a cafe that obviously catered to the hipster crowd. We were seated almost immediately outside on the patio – one benefit
of being fairly recognizable in these parts.
I relished the feel of the sun on my skin and the cool breeze that blew by us. It helped to calm me down and take a little bit of the steam out of the fires burning inside of me. I ordered an iced tea, and Carter, of course, asked for a beer, even though it wasn't even noon.
“I was really hoping we could have a serious, sober discussion, but I guess that's not entirely possible with you, is it?” I muttered, scanning the menu instead of looking over at him.
“On second thought,” Carter said, catching the waitress before she stepped away, “I'll just have a Coke, if you don't mind.”
I raised an eyebrow and glanced at him over my menu.
“What? Don't act so surprised. I drink non-alcoholic beverages sometimes,” he said with a chuckle.
“Usually only when they're mixed in with your liquor of choice,” I teased.
“Yeah, maybe, but perhaps I should consider turning over a new leaf,” he said. “At least for a little bit.”
“I was hoping you might say that, and actually mean it,” I said, closing the menu and staring at my stepbrother earnestly. “Because let's face it, neither one of us could survive without our parents’ money. If they yank our trust funds, we are screwed, Carter. You do get that, right?”
“Is that what this is about? The money?” he said dryly. “And here, I thought my loving stepsister actually cared about me and wanted to see me get back on the straight and narrow path.”
“I do care about you, Carter, and you know that,” I said. “I'm worried about the direction your life is taking. But you've told me many times over that it's not my business and to leave you alone. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that. If you don't want my help – and refuse to do anything to help yourself – can I really continue banging my head against that brick wall? Should I?”
The waitress brought us our drinks and we ordered our food. Truth be told, I wasn't really in the mood to eat; this little lunch date was more about talking to Carter in a place where he couldn't get me into bed.
“It's not that I don't appreciate your concern or your offers of help, Vanessa. But let's face facts, you'll always be a Daddy's girl who cares more about the money and the status of being an Elliott than you'll care about me,” Carter said. “Not that I blame you. You have a hell of a career ahead of you.”
I looked down at my hands, not sure if I should be offended by the first half of his statement or flattered by the second half. As with everything else when it came to Carter, the issues and feelings – not to mention my thoughts – were all confused. A complex maelstrom of shit that circled around and round in my head, and in my heart. Nothing was ever simple with Carter. Nothing had ever been simple with Carter. So, why should it surprise me that it wasn't now?
“Do you remember when we were in high school?” Carter asked, a smile on his face. “How you were obsessed with becoming our student body president? You went up against what's her face – Abigail something?”
“Abigail Taylor,” I said, almost shocked he remembered something so inconsequential from so long ago. “She was a shoe-in for the position, the most popular girl in school.”
“Niece of the Vice-Chancellor and favorite of teachers all over campus, if I remember correctly,” he said. But you beat her. And from that day, I knew you were special. You’re a force to be reckoned with, Vanessa. No one could ever hold you down when you put your mind to something.”
Now he really was making me blush. I opened my mouth to say something, but found that I had no words. Instead, I just looked away and remained silent.
Carter reached across the table and took my hand in his giving it a gentle squeeze that made me look up and meet his gaze. His eyes were surprisingly clear – clearer than I'd seen them in a while. And when I looked into his face, I knew he was sober and that I was speaking to the real Carter. The Carter I knew and loved so deeply.
My breath caught in my throat and my stomach tied itself in knots as we gazed into each other's eyes. I looked around, pulling my hands back when I caught people staring at us. Everyone knew the family around these parts – and they knew we were stepsiblings. Holding hands with my stepbrother would most definitely send the wrong message.
“I'm shocked you think that highly of me still, considering all the mean things you've said about me lately,” I took a drink of my iced tea to avoid looking at him. “I was actually starting to think you hated me.”
“Nah, I could never hate you, Vanessa,” he said softly. “Just the opposite actually.”
My heart did a flip-flop in my chest. No way. Carter Prescott didn't love anyone but himself. I pulled my hand from his and sat back in my seat, studying him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was playing me.
“So if you don't hate me, then why are you determined to make my life a living hell?” I asked him.
I caught him staring intently at my cleavage and while it sent a thrill of desire through me as a burst of heat erupted between my thighs, I knew I had to keep myself under control. After all, if I couldn't keep myself in check, how in the hell was I supposed to keep him in check? I pulled my dress up a bit, hoping to cover up a little more, though honestly, it didn't do much good.
“I'm not. At least, I don't mean to be,” he said. “I'm just trying to live my own life, on my terms. I thought you, of all people, would understand that.”
“But all the drinking and the drugs,” I whispered. “Why do that to yourself? Do you really want to end up a strung-out addict? Do you have a death wish?”
He shrugged, and it broke my heart to know he really didn't seem bothered by the idea of his death. Carter wasn't suicidal, but he was careless, and clearly thought he was invincible.
“It's fun and it gets my mind off the shitty stuff I have to deal with,” he said. “What can I say?”
“What shitty stuff, Carter?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “You're rich, handsome, could have any woman you wanted – ”
“Not any woman,” he interrupted me.
He held my gaze intently, making me look away from him again as the heat crept back into my cheeks. Not many men had the ability to render me speechless, but Carter was definitely one of them.
“Pretty much,” I said with a dry laugh. “And you're smart. I know you're smart, Carter.”
“You're the one that graduated from Stanford, not me.”
“Because you didn't even apply,” I said. “You forget all those long conversations we used to have. You forget that I know how smart you actually are. And why you hide that away from the world is beyond me. ”
“I didn't apply because I knew I wouldn't get in. Not with my grades,” he said. “And even if I had somehow managed to get into Stanford or someplace like it, I'd would eventually get myself suspended or kicked out. So, why bother? I'm not cut out for that life. At least I'm honest enough with myself to admit that.”
“Then what are you cut out for?”
“Drinking, fucking, and having one hell of a good time,” he said with a smirk. “And we both know I'm good at all three of those things. Damn good.”
Carter stood up and walked over to my side of the table, taking the seat next to me. He leaned forward and for a second, I thought he might kiss me, but instead, he surprised me by whispering into my ear.
“Who are we kidding, Vanessa?” he said. “Let's get out of here and fuck like we used to.”
His hand moved up my inner thigh, stroking me between my legs. I could feel myself growing wetter at his touch, the fires inside of me burning out of control as his fingers continued to trace a circle around my panties. If he kept that up, my desire for him was so strong, I might come right there at the table.
And, he was right – who were we kidding? I wanted him, he wanted me, and there was no use denying it.
He slipped my panties aside and I gasped as his finger entered me. He smiled salaciously at me as he pressed his other finger to my lips, silencing me as he moved his finger in and out of me. My gas
p was soft, quiet, but the sensations that rocketed through my body were intense and I had to bite my bottom lip hard to keep from crying out. All while people sat nearby, oblivious to the fact that my stepbrother was fingering me at our table.
My toes began to curl in my shoes and my eyes were rolling back in my head as he drove his fingers in and out of me. I so badly wanted to reach down and stroke the obvious erection in his jeans, to take him in my hand while he had his fingers in me.
“You know, we may call it fucking,” he said, sticking two fingers inside of me this time, “but it's always been more than that, hasn't it?”
I couldn't bring myself to move or to say anything. I sat there, my body rigid clenching my jaw, terrified that I might cry out or groan in pleasure as he continued fingering me. I just stared into his eyes, fighting the urge to kiss him right there in public. The last thing I wanted to do was to give our secret desire for each other away. If Carter and I were caught, it would be disastrous for my father's campaign. It very well could end his political career.
“You mean more to me than the others. You always have, Vanessa. And you know that,” he said, pulling his fingers out from my pussy and licking them clean, never breaking eye contact with me. “It's always been you.”
The others. All the others. Countless others. From Abigail Taylor back in the day to that tramp Brittany, to the countless others in between. There had never been a shortage of warm, willing bodies filling up Carter's bed, catering to his every sexual want, whim and desire. But he was right about one thing – between us, things had always been different.
Carter put his fingers back between my legs, but this time, I grabbed his hand before he could slip inside. I squeezed his hand hard as he stared at me.
I wasn't playing that game anymore. I was a grown up. I had grown up responsibilities. And even though every nerve ending inside of me was crying out for release, even though my mind was screaming for me to take him home, I couldn't let myself give in to those base, carnal desires. There was simply too much at stake.
