Page 8 of The Devils They Are

Parker is a junior, and just aspassionateas his sister. If anyone can take her on or hold her back, it's probably him. God, I can only imagine what their sibling rivalry was like growing up.

Someone steps up behind me, snaking their arms around my torso. Leaning back, I recognize Steele's scent immediately, the smell of beer and crisp citrus cologne.

"Hey," he murmurs quietly into my ear.

Turning around to face him, I rest my arms on his shoulders, careful not to spill my drink. "Hey, Steele. How's yourfrienddoing?"

His nose upturns at the mention but he just nonchalantly shrugs under my arms. "A few bruises but fine. His ego is more bruised than anything."

I nod. "And didyoulearn anything?"

Steele grins at me. "I've put a passcode on my cell. But I also deleted the photo."

Pushing up onto my toes, I kiss him softly. "Good."

"I'll leave you to mingle," Archie says from behind me. "I see Abby over there so I’m gonna say hi."

I look over my shoulder, giving him a nod of acknowledgement. "Have fun."

As he walks off, I watch as he makes his way over to the blonde senior by the edge of the water, surrounded by other cheerleaders.

Archie has been lusting after her for years, ever since they became neighbors in our freshman year. She was in a relationship with one of the football players until a few months back, and now that she's single, the two of them have been nearly inseparable. Though, he swears black and blue nothing has eventuated between them yet—yetbeing the key word. I give it a few more weeks at max. They've been looking pretty cozy lately, hugging and whispering in corners.

"Want to come over to my truck?" I ask quietly, gazing back at Steele. He nods eagerly, letting go of my waist to grab my hand.

He leads us over the sand and rocks to the gravelly parking lot, making a beeline for my Ford. I fish my keys out of my black ripped denim mini skirt, unlocking the driver's door before climbing in and reaching over to lift the lock on the passenger side.

Steele climbs in and when he shuts the door, the sounds of the beachgoers fade. Instantly, he charges across the seat, kissing me. I laugh, kissing him back while blindly trying to put my drink on the dash.

When it's securely and safely out of reach from tangled limbs, his hand lands on my thigh, sliding up my legs as I part them for him. Steele groans into my mouth when he reaches my hipster briefs, rubbing me through the thin material before carefully peeling it to the side with his fingers.

That's what I like about Steele and our arrangement—there's no expectations, no awkwardness. We both know what we want, and we go for it. And after the day I've had, an orgasm is high on my priority list of needs.

The tip of his finger slides up and down my slit, teasing me, and I buck my hips toward him. He smirks wickedly against my mouth, deliberately pulling back as his hand firmly presses into my inner thigh, squeezing the soft skin.

"Dammit, Steele," I grumble. "If you don't touch me, I'll—"

"You'll what, Bex?" he replies, kissing my neck. "Tease me back? Beg?"

"I don't beg," I mutter playfully. "I'll take matters into my own hands and make you watch. You won't be allowed to touch me. You'll have to sit there and watch my pussy get wet, listen to my moans while I come."

I hold back a laugh, biting my lip as his body tenses against me. I know he hates not being able to touch me, but we're both headstrong, constantly fighting for power and control. Secretly, I think he gets off on the fact that he gets to bring me to my knees. But I don't think he realizes that even when we're on our knees, we're still in control.

Before he can make a move toward me, I slide back, pushing his chest firmly with my hands. He falls backwards, lips parted as his eyes sparkle with defiance and challenge.

"Look at me," I say, bringing my leg up between us. I place one foot on his thigh while the other rests on the dash, giving him the perfect view of my cunt.

Slowly, I mimic his earlier actions, pulling the material aside as he watches. Swallowing, a rush of panic falls over his face when he realizes just how serious I am. His hand tries to come out to touch me and I smack it playfully away, waving my finger at him. "Uh, no. You had your chance, babe. Now, you get to be a spectator."

"Oh, come on," he groans, dropping his hand into his lap. He kneads his groin with his fist, eyes locked on the spot between my inner thighs.

My other hand trails down my pelvis, finding its way to my aching center. I start by rubbing lazy circles around my clit, before dipping lower, pressing a finger inside myself.

Steele's eyes blow wide, barely blinking. When I add another finger, pumping them in and out, he groans again, reaching for the waistband of his shorts.

"No," I tell him, shifting my foot from his thigh to his hardened cock. "If you can't touch me, you can't touch yourself either."

A string of curses fall from his lips as his head falls back onto the passenger window.

---