Naughty but Nice: A Best Friend's Dad Christmas Romance

by Rye Hart

  “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 gasp 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.

  “How many times do I have to tell you – we can't do this, Carter,” I said through clenched teeth. “We're family now. It's wrong.”

  “We're not related by blood,” he said. “only by marriage.”

  “Not in the eyes of the press,” I said. “And we can't – ”

  “Can't have lives of our own?” he spat, growing angry. “At least, not when daddy dearest is running for office. We wouldn't want to disappoint or embarrass him, now would we?”

  “Carter, it's more complicated than that,” I said and sighed.

  I shook my head and looked away. My heart was hammering inside of my chest and my pussy was still aching with desire. It was so incredibly hard to tell him no. My body wanted to say yes, to sleep with him, to taste that pleasure with him again, but my brain knew it was a bad idea.

  “No, really, it's not,” Carter said, finishing the last of his Coke. “But it's easier to say it's complicated than admit we have feelings for one another, isn't it? And you claim I'm the one pushing you away. Right. Pardon my language, dear stepsister, but what a crock of shit. You're just a coward.”

  Tears welled in my eyes, but I fought them back and was able to remain in control of myself.. My grip on my composure was tenuous at best. I was hanging on by a mere thread.

  “Carter, please, we need to be good. I need you to behave,” I said. “I can't let this ruin my own political career, my own future. And if you care for me, if you've ever cared for me at all, you'd understand that.”

  Carter stood up and dropped some bills on the table. “You know what? I'm no longer hungry,” he said. “It's been nice talking to you, sis.”

  He walked away, but I called out to him. “Carter, please – ”

  He stopped, turned and looked at me with a renewed hope in his eyes.

  “Please, we really can't afford to lose our trust funds,” I said, hoping to appeal to the only thing that I knew would get through to him.

  Carter snorted and shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

  That was all he said before he turned and walked out of the cafe, leaving me alone at the table. I slammed my hands down and clenched my fists to stop myself from screaming. Every time we were together, it went this way.

  There was no way I could keep an eye on Carter twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week – not if I wanted to stay sane.

  But dammit, I was tired of him thinking I was no fun, some prim, proper, goody-two-shoes, stick in the mud.

  And I was tired of denying myself what I wanted most in the world.

  CHAPTER SIX - CARTER

  I took an Uber back to my family's home to get my car. After that blowout with Vanessa, the last thing I wanted was to be trapped in a car with her. On my drive back to my place though, I noticed that there was a black car following me. Part of me thought I was just being paranoid, but no matter which way I turned, it was always back there.

  An ominous feeling crept over me as I watched it in the rearview mirror – watched as it turned down the same streets I did, keeping close to me. When I pulled down my private street on the bay, that ominous feeling intensified when it turned down with me. Parking my car in the secure garage, I waited for the gate to close and let out a sigh of relief. He couldn't follow me down there, which meant I'd lost the guy. But I knew he was still outside the complex, watching me. The question was – who was he and why was he there?

  I thought about it, puzzled it over, and came to the one inescapable conclusion – Vanessa. My stepsister was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. If she wasn't willing to be with me all day, every day, she'd hire someone else to do it. Someone who could report on my location at all hours of the day or night and let her know if I've been naughty or nice.

  Great. Just what I wanted, a fucking babysitter. It was fine when it was going to be Vanessa. Given our history, it could have even been a lot of fun. But some asshole following me around, reporting on every little thing I did – that was some serious bullshit.

  I considered calling her up and laying into her. Part of me wanted to roast her for hiring a PI to follow me around; one who couldn't even keep himself hidden. Or maybe, as I gave it a little more thought, he wasn't even trying to hide himself. Maybe being obvious and not very discrete about following me was the point. Maybe Vanessa wanted me to know I was being followed, being watched, hoping it would keep me from doing something stupid.

  It showed how little she actually thought of me, since I wasn't stupid either. I wasn't in the mood or inclined to play her little games. So when Joel called and wanted to hang out at Liquid Lounge again, I told him I'd be right there. The PI wasn't going to stop me from living my life and having a good time in whatever fucking manner I saw fit.

  I changed into different clothes and put on a hoodie that obscured my face as much as possible. After getting dressed and ready, I slipped out of my penthouse, taking the elevator down to the private entrance in the rear of the building – the one that was mostly used for discreet encounters the wealthy folk in the building enjoyed having. I'd seen some of these corporate bigwigs sneaking mistresses in and out of that entrance more often than I changed my underwear.

  I'd have to leave my car there, but I was a clever man and there were plenty of ways I could work around that. I requested an Uber and walked toward the street on the other side of the building, celebrating my victory once I was seated inside the back of the Uber.

  I looked out the back window and smiled. No black car following us, I was in the clear.

  Removing my hoodie, I felt rather pleased with myself for evading Vanessa's PI. And I was almost giddy that it had been so damn simple. When we pulled up to the club, I was still in a good, self-congratulatory mood and grabbed a drink from the bar before I went searching for Joel.

  If anyone remembered me from the other night – which I'm sure they did – they didn't say a word.. Considering who I was, I knew I'd never be barred from a club – not because of some stupid shit like that. In fact, I'd probably brought the club some PR thanks to the news stories about what happened.

  I turned and looked out at the crowd, searching for Joel's face among them, when my eyes fell on the door and I felt my heart stop in my chest. Vanessa's familiar, pretty face was looking out at the crowd, obviously, searching for me.

  Fuck, how did she find me?

  I skirted along the edge of the club, sticking close to the walls and among the thick crowd, keeping an eye on Vanessa as I made my way over to the private VIP rooms. When I got there, I looked at the guy on the door, who knew me and nodded.

  “Is there one open?” I asked.

  He nodded and I handed him a wad of cash from my pocket as I slipped inside the empty room. Pulling out my phone, I keyed in a quick text to Joel, letting him know where I was at when the door suddenly swung open. I looked up from my phone and found myself staring directly into the eyes of my stepsister. She stood there, her arms crossed in front of her chest, a dark look of anger on her face.

  She wasn't wearing her typical modest clothing. I was surprised to see that she was actually dressed more appropriately for the club, in a short black skirt, a tight pink top, and heels. Her hair was down and extra wavy, and she was wearing more makeup than usual, her eyes looking lar
ge and sexy as hell.

  “Think you're smooth, don't you?” she said.

  I took a long pull from my drink and sat back in the seat, smirking at her. “How'd you find me? I obviously lost your PI guy. He's not very good at his job, by the way” I teased.

  “You lost one of them,” she said with a knowing smile. “The one you were supposed to see. The one you didn't see actually tailed you here. How do you think I got here and found you so quickly, idiot?”

  “Damn, you're good. You got me there. Kudos to you, sis,” I said, holding my glass up as if to toast her. “So, you found me – what now? Am I going to get a time out? Sent to bed without dessert? Maybe even grounded?”

  “Stop being such an asshole. I'm going to keep an eye on you,” she said. “We're going to hang out, and I'm going to make sure you get home safely and without getting yourself in trouble. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?”

  “Oh yeah, totally. I can't think of a better way to spend my evening. Because who doesn't love their uptight, morally rigid stepsister watching their every move at a poppin' club like this,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  I smiled though, because I knew I was just pushing her buttons and winding her up; it's what I did best.

  But instead of getting angry, she surprised me and laughed. “Uptight, huh?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at me.

  “Putting on a short skirt and makeup isn't going to change who you are, Vanessa,” I said. “It's like putting on a Halloween mask, you can wear it, but it doesn't change who you are underneath.”

  I stood up and moved closer to her. We were alone in the room, but I swear, the minute she stepped inside, the temperature shot up to about a hundred degrees. The closer I got to her, the more I expected her to step away, but she surprised me – she didn't budge. She stared up at me and batted those thick eyelashes at me, almost like she was trying to come on to me.