Bad Habit

by Charleigh Rose

  Dash takes a swig of his Jack on the rocks that I can smell from here and throws up a hand gesture.

  “The fuck is that?” Ash asks, and I laugh.

  “Scout’s honor.”

  “Dude, that’s the Vulcan salute from Star Trek.”

  Dash shrugs. “Same difference.”

  “Idiot,” I say, but I can’t keep from smiling. It feels good to be together like this again, just the three of us.

  Until I see Jackson, heading back our way.

  Chapter 9

  Asher

  This fucking kid can’t be serious. He ran off with his tail between his legs, but he seems to have picked up some new-found courage during his little bathroom break, judging by the cocky fucking grin he’s sporting that’s going to get his teeth knocked out here in a minute. He sits down next to Briar, and she looks at me with wide eyes, knowing that my patience is hanging by a thread.

  Dash leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Keep your mouth shut, and we won’t have any problems,” he says in a low voice as to not draw any attention.

  Jackson smirks, bringing his ankle up to rest on his knee. “You know what I think? I think you can talk all the shit you want, but you won’t make a scene. Not here.”

  “He won’t, but I will. Don’t fucking test me, pretty boy. I have nothing to lose with these kinds of people.”

  “Because you’re not one of us. You can put on a suit and tie, but you’re still trash.”

  I feel a delicate hand rub my thigh, and though I know her attempt is to calm me down, she’s doing the opposite. She’s making my dick hard, and all I want is to fuck her, right here and now, to prove that she belongs to me. Only me.

  “At least he’s not a snobby, elitist douchebag with a tiny dick,” Briar shoots back, shocking all of us. Dash spits out his drink, and Jackson is completely speechless, eyes as wide as saucers and face burning with what I assume is a mix of anger and embarrassment. I’d laugh if she hadn’t confirmed—for the second time tonight—that she fucked him. The thought of him touching her, of being inside her, I can’t fucking handle it. I know I’m no good for her, but he doesn’t deserve her, either. Not by a long shot.

  I clutch her wrist and bring it back to her lap before curling my hand around her thigh in a squeezing grip. I feel her stiffen, but I don’t look at her.

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear that,” Dash says, shaking the liquor off his hand. I glance at Briar to find her cheeks bright red—either from embarrassment at her outburst. Or maybe the fact that my hand is making its way underneath her dress with her brother on one side of us and her wannabe boyfriend on the other has something to do with it. I trail my calloused fingers up her silky-soft thighs, and she presses them together. I hook my leg under hers, thankful for the floor-length tablecloths, and pull, forcing her legs to widen. Briar makes a small sound of surprise, but no one else hears it.

  I wonder if she’s still wet from earlier. It took every ounce of my self-control not to unzip myself and thrust inside her when she was straddling my lap, riding my fingers. I wasn’t going to come tonight, but the more I thought about her being alone with Jackson, the more I knew I couldn’t stay away.

  I went into Dash’s room and questioned where he was going. I played dumb, making him think it was his idea to invite me.

  “What are you up to tonight?” he’d asked. “My mom is forcing me to go to this fundraiser to keep up appearances.”

  “You want me to go with you?”

  He paused in the middle of adjusting his tie, thrown off by my offer. “You’d go? I’ve never gotten you to agree to this kind of shit before.”

  I shrugged, feigning nonchalance, and feeling like a dick for it. “Will there be free booze?”

  He smiled and handed me one of his suits that was a little tighter than I’d have liked, but it would do. And here we are.

  Dash gets up and announces that he’s getting another drink, and I take the opportunity to slip my finger inside her panties. Fuck, those underwear. All strappy black and lacy framing her perfect little bubble butt. I take a sip of the water in front of me with my right hand while sliding my fingers through her slick heat with the other hand. She’s wet, so wet, and smooth. Someone takes the stage and begins their speech, but all I can focus on is the way Briar clenches around my fingers when I shove them inside her pussy, the way her breathing becomes ragged, her eyelids growing heavier, her tits heaving, and nipples hardening against the thin fabric of her dress. Fuck this.

  I lean in close and whisper, “Go to the third floor. Wait for me by the elevator. Now.”

  She nods her head yes rapidly, and the fact that she doesn’t even hesitate sates my inner beast. “Okay,” she whispers back, and she lets a quiet moan out when I slide my fingers from her pussy. Jackson looks over, a combination of shock and jealousy written all over his face, and I’m one thousand percent sure he knows what’s going on under this table. I raise a brow that says can I help you?

  Briar rights her dress under the table before getting up onto shaky legs, making her way to the elevator. I give it a good five minutes, daring Jackson to say a fucking word, while also keeping an eye on Dash. A pretty little thing at the bar has distracted him, so I doubt he’ll be back any time soon. I’m a piece of shit for this—for being so sneaky with my best friend’s little sister—but I’ve fought acting on my feelings since she was fourteen years old. This thing between Briar and me is like a runaway train. It can’t be stopped, and it’ll take us both straight to hell.

  “Enjoy your night,” I say to Jackson, sucking the taste of Briar off my finger before wiping my hands with the linen napkin. I ball it up, drop it on his plate, and walk away. Heading into the elevator, I stab at the number three with my finger, having zero patience left. I need to be inside her. Now. The doors ping and then open. She’s waiting, biting back a nervous smile, hands twisting behind her back.

  “Hi,” she says.

  “Hi.”

  Eating up the distance between us, I take her face in my hands, kissing her hard. She moans into my mouth, her tongue sliding against mine. Both of us are too far gone to care about getting caught now. We’ve been teasing each other all night, and it’s coming to a head right here and now. Her hands grip my suit jacket as I swallow her cries of pleasure. This kiss is frantic and messy and desperate. I pull back, both of us panting.

  “You let him fuck you?”

  “Ash—”

  “Tell. Me.”

  She nods reluctantly.

  “When.” It’s not a question. It’s a demand. I need to know if she fucked him after this thing between us started.

  “Months ago. Before you came back.”

  “Why?” Why him?

  “Why?” She gives a bitter laugh. “Because you left me. Because Whitley came in bragging about hooking up with you. Because he was there and I was mad. That’s why. Was I supposed to keep waiting for you?”

  “No.” Fuck. “But it doesn’t mean I’m not going to be pissed about it,” I say petulantly. Something she said isn’t adding up. “I thought you said this just happened a few months ago.”

  “It did,” she says, confusion painted on her face. “Just the one time, at his party before school even ended.”

  “I haven’t fucked Whitley in years.” We both stand there, soaking this information in. Whitley is a fucking liar, for one. And Briar gave up her virginity based on that lie.

  Briar shakes her pretty, blonde head, walking to the balcony that overlooks the fundraiser. She rests her elbow on the bannister.

  “I hate her, Ash.” Her voice is a whisper.

  “I know, baby,” I say, coming up behind her, palming the outsides of her thighs. “Fuck her. Fuck all these people.”

  “Ash,” she breathes my name as my left hand curves around her hip and dips underneath the thin scrap of lace. Her dress is bunched up above her ass, which is pressed right up against my crotch.

  “What would they say if they sa
w you like this? With me?” I rub her clit and bite the shell of her ear. “They don’t know you, Briar. They think you’re a good girl, but they don’t know that you like sneaking around with me. That you like the idea of being fucked up here, right out in the open. Right underneath their noses.”

  Her sharp intake of breath tells me that I’m right. And thank fuck, because I don’t know if I could wait another minute.

  “We can’t.”

  “We are.” I unzip my slacks enough to pull my cock out and tug her panties to the side. “Stop me.”

  “I can’t,” she says, low and keening, pushing back against my bare, engorged dick.

  “Because you need this just as bad as I do. You like the idea of getting caught almost as much as you like getting away with it.”

  I push inside her slick pussy, giving us both what we want. What we need. Her head falls forward, but I grip the front of her neck, forcing her chin up.

  “No,” she gasps as I start to fuck her harder.

  “No? Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Say it. Say what you want.”

  “I want to be up here with you. Fucking you. So fuck me.” The dirty words coming from that pretty mouth spur me on, and I pull one of her straps down, then pinch her nipple. She sucks in a breath, and I feel her clench around me.

  “That’s right. You don’t belong with them. You never have. You may have been born into this life, but you’re not like them, Briar. You and I are the same. And that’s why you’ve been mine since you were fucking eleven, even if we didn’t know it yet.”

  “Yes, God, yes. Don’t leave me again. Don’t ever leave.”

  “Careful what you wish for.” I pump into her, my cock growing even harder. She plants her hands on the rail in front of us, bracing herself, meeting me thrust for thrust. I turn her face to the side, holding her there as I suck and bite and lick her shoulder, her neck, her cheek, and everywhere in between. I bring my other hand to rub at her clit while I pound into her. I can hear how wet she is, and our skin slaps together. Her hushed moans turn louder, and neither one of us cares if anyone knows in this moment. Because this is our truth, up here in the shadows.

  I pull out abruptly to slide her underwear down, ignoring her protesting whine. I tug them down her toned thighs, and they fall to the floor around her slender ankles. Scooping them and clenching them in my fist, I waste no time burying myself back inside of her velvet heat. I squeeze her hips in a bruising grip, still holding on to the scrap of lace, and I don’t hold back. I fuck her like I hate her, because part of me still does. I don’t fully understand the depths of my feelings for Briar, but make no mistake, I’d kill for this girl.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.” We’re sweating and panting, completely animalistic. “Look at them, Briar. Look at them when you come on my cock. Anyone could look up at any moment.” I place my arms on top of hers, my hands covering hers that grip the rail, and I nip at her spine. “They’d act appalled, but they’d go home and jerk themselves off to this image. I promise you that.”

  Briar cries out, contracting around my dick, but she bites down on my arm to muffle her screams. I fuck her through her climax, trying to hold back from coming inside her. Finally, she slumps forward, spent, and I pull out, shooting my load inside her wadded-up panties.

  We take a minute to catch our breath, unspeaking, before I straighten the skirt of her dress and zip myself up. She turns to face me, flushed cheeks and sleepy eyes. Her hair is damp, and little curls spring near her hairline.

  “What are we doing, Ash?” Briar asks, as reality crashes down around us. We’re getting sloppy. Just begging to get caught. I don’t know what this is, either, but I know I’m not stopping. So, I give her the only answer I can.

  “Whatever the fuck we want.”

  Chapter 10

  Briar

  I can still feel him between my legs, his fingers on my hips, his teeth in my shoulder. I clamp my legs shut in the passenger seat of my car, looking over at Asher. His left hand squeezes the wheel, hard eyes staring straight ahead. His suit jacket was thrown in the back seat, leaving him in a white dress shirt with rolled sleeves. He glances over and eyes my crossed legs pressed together, knowing I don’t have any underwear on. Giving me a cocky grin, he slides his right hand in between my thighs, gripping the inside of one.

  After we caught our breath and the weight of what we did settled around us, we both decided that we needed to go somewhere to be alone. We’re getting careless. Practically begging to be caught. He didn’t say where he was taking me, just snatched the keys out of my hand and started driving us out of the city limits. As we get further west, I realize I know exactly where he’s taking me.

  “We’re going to The Tracks?” I ask, equal parts unsure and amused. “That’s an interesting choice.”

  He shrugs. “It’s quiet. No chance of being interrupted.”

  Yeah, I think, unless fifty high schoolers decide to have the same idea. But, The Tracks has always been his safe place.

  We pull up to the old building. It’s pitch-black and eerily quiet, the only sound the crickets chirping and the hum of the cars on the freeway in the distance. Asher takes my hand and wordlessly leads me through the gate, the hole in the fence, and finally into the building. Dapper and demure meet damaged and dilapidated as we walk inside, still in our gala attire. I wonder if this place ever held events like the one we attended tonight. If two star-crossed lovers ever resorted to stolen moments in the middle of a crowded building like we did, I wonder how their story turned out.

  We wander around, aimlessly, neither one of us speaking, but both having so much to say. I decide to finally bite the bullet and break the silence.

  “Where did you go?” I ask, cutting to the chase. He knows I’m referring to the past three years and gives me a long look before deciding to answer.

  “It’s a long story,” he starts. “But the important part is that I ended up in a small town in Northern California called River’s Edge.”

  “And?” I prod, needing more of an explanation than that.

  “And, I met a guy named Dare who has his own roofing company. He took me in, taught me the trade, and then when he started the process of opening up his own tattoo shop, I sort of took over.”

  “Oh.”

  I’m not sure what else to say. He always wanted to leave, and I understood why. It’s the timing that never made sense to me. I guess I had it in my mind that there was some big secret that stole him away from me. Like jail or boarding school. But the fact that he just…started over elsewhere? That stings, though it shouldn’t.

  “What about you?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, confused.

  “What did you do while I was gone?”

  I shrug. “School, mostly. Acted as a referee between Dash and Dad whenever they were together. The usual.”

  “Still want to be a nurse?”

  I look over at him in shock. I mentioned that in passing once, when I was maybe fourteen.

  “I do…” I say, trailing off.

  “But?”

  “But, my dad wouldn’t ever go for it. He’s still pissed at Dash for not going to Harvard.” What he doesn’t know is that I have a pile of acceptance letters that have lapsed in my dresser drawer. I didn’t make a decision, and now it’s too late for any of them.

  “Fuck your dad,” Ash says darkly and with more anger than is warranted for this conversation. “What do you want?”

  “Honestly? I have no clue. None.” The problem is that I want to do everything and nothing all at once. I can’t commit, and regardless of what I do, I’m letting someone down.

  “Then, be undeclared. Or take a year to figure out what you want to do. Life is too short to live for someone else.”

  I nod, knowing he’s right, but he doesn’t understand, not really. It’s not easy saying no to my parents.

  “Let’s play a game,” I suggest, changing the subject. Asher looks at me war
ily.

  “Okay…” he drawls out. “What do you have in mind?” He rakes his fingertips up the sides of my thighs and back under my dress, meeting my bare skin. I already want him again.

  “Not that kind of game. A question game. I ask you a question, and you give me a straightforward answer, no bullshit,” I stress. “Then you get to ask me a question. Deal?”

  “Deal,” he agrees, and we both head in the direction of the grandstand, through what used to be the food court. The place is so quiet that I could probably hear a pin drop from the other side of the building.

  “So, you weren’t hooking up with Whitley while you were gone?”

  Asher stops short and turns to face me, his expression dead serious. “Not even once. I never saw her while I was gone.”

  I nod, waiting for his question.

  “Does any part of you still want Jackson?” He doesn’t waste any time asking. I think he more than knows the answer to this question, but I give him the reassurance he needs.

  “Not even a little bit,” I say with the same sincerity in which he answered me. “He was nice. You were gone.” I shrug, as if that’s all there was to it. There wasn’t much more than that, to be honest.

  “Are you going to leave again?” I ask, voicing my biggest fear.

  “Probably,” he answers honestly. His head is down, hands in his pockets, as he angles his body toward the dark sky through hollow windows while I die a little inside.

  “Why did you help my dad?”

  I suck in a breath. I knew this one was coming. “I’m sorry,” I start, but he puts a hand up and stops me.

  “That’s not a straightforward answer, Bry.”

  “Okay.” He’s right. “Um, because I felt bad for him. I felt that he truly regretted how he treated you. And I knew that he was still your father. I wanted to take care of him for you. It made me feel closer to you, too.”

  Asher doesn’t speak. He stares out at the silhouettes of palm trees against the night sky, and I can see the tension in his jaw. I decide to hit him with a not-so-loaded question.