In which Lucas Sinclair's older sister spends her whole summer trying to tame Billy Hargrove.
NSFW: 18+ only
Contains Dark themes and sexual content that may not be suitable for people under the age of 18.
Read at your own risk-this essentially is...
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Chapter Four: Sexual Tension
Billy couldn't keep his eyes off Zara and in return Steve couldn't keep his eyes off Billy.
Tina's living room was filled to the brim with lusty teens, random couples kissing on the couch while others snuck away to get some action that didn't require clothing. Zara was on her third drink, the tally marks on her arms she'd made with a stick of eyeliner she'd found on the floor. "Why so glum, chum?"
"He keeps staring at you."
"So," Zara dragged the word out, using a little extra strength to pull her best friend in close, the liquor calming her nerves as the weed triggered her bold streak. Maybe that's why she didn't even bother to ask who Steve was referring to, her hands tightening around the nape of his neck. "Just dance with me."
"I thought you were mad that I was catching feelings."
"So you do like me."
Steve let out a stream of frazzled noises, a steady blush rising on the apples of his cheeks and it took everything in him not to step away from her and rush right back to his car to zoom home. His embarrassment is evident in the way his hands grow clammy at her hips, a nervous thumb tracing the waistline of her shorts. "It's just a harmless crush."
"I'm not mad," Zara shot a passerby a sharp look, her sassy disposition quick to make itself present as the person bumped aggressively into her shoulder. "I just couldn't keep screwing you after knowing—I'm a lot of things but I wouldn't just string you along."
"I know," He whispered lowly, the two words barely comprehensible over the loud music. Steve's head drops lower, the distance between their faces anything but friendly as they swayed to the music overhead—they were the only ones dancing but neither seemed to care. "I'm gonna miss it though."
Zara's head jerked, tilting to the side like a tiny little puppy, her eye contact unwavering as she felt completely safe in the arms of her best friend. "Miss what?"
"Fucking you," Steve rested his head in the crook of her neck, not seeming to care that the five foot eleven boy was bent at an awkward angle. His lips traced the curve of her ear, breath shallow and thready as an onslaught of memories flashed behind his eyelids. Reminders of when the best of friends would sneak away, clambering into the backseat of his BMW for a few fleeting moments of eager mouths on flesh. "Tasting you—touching you. Just thinking about it gives me blue balls."
"Easy there tiger," Zara teased, already feeling his growing erection pressing against her belly. "—or you'll find yourself stuck in the upstairs bathroom with only your hands."
