primadonna girl

Beckett took a drag of the spliff, a cloud of smoke escaping his mouth and surrounding the two of them before it departed with the slight breeze. He rolled his eyes at her words, which was a usual reaction whenever they talked at home. However, it was an action cause by agreement out of her words, and disgust at their truthfulness, not because she was talking shit like she usually did. He shrugged his shoulders, watching her lips mumble behind the bottle of whiskey as she raised it to her lips. He agreed, and although he wouldn’t say no to taking one of Cleo’s friends for a ride, he was happy that she hadn’t fallen into bed with one of his own. His ears stilled at the compliment, and he turned to look at her, spliff lazily between his fingers. “You think I’m the hottest one here? Apart from you?” His lips grew into a smirk, if not from the compliment from a girl who hated every fiber of his being, then from necessity of making fun of his soon to be step sisters slip up.

His blue eyes cast over the dark waters of the lake, and he had a few seconds to contemplate the thought. On one hand, she had a point. But on the other hand, that would have led to Cleo fucking one of his friends and that stirred up dreadful and confusing ideas. Under the influence of the whiskey and the weed, he pondered the thought of those jealous musings and what they could have meant. His thoughts were interrupted, her query regarding a quick make out session causing shock to reverberate through his body. His eyes left the lake, shooting over to Cleo sitting next to him, smirk plaguing the corner of her lips, and a specific look behind her eyes he couldn’t particularly pinpoint. They were sitting near, arms almost brushing against each other in their closeness. To say he hadn’t thought about it would be a lie. A certain train of thought led from one to another whilst Beckett would be lying in bed at night, what he would have blamed on a moment of weakness was more a moment of attraction. Beckett assured himself this was a natural reaction to Cleo’s attractive demeanor and filthy mouth. He assessed the meaning behind the look in her eyes, moonlight casting light on her hazel hues and casting shadows on his decision making skills.

He contemplated the thought. It would have been easy for Beckett to lean in, to press his lips against her own and shut her up. To wrap his arm around her and pull her close, to throw his spliff into the lake and forget about everything back at the lakehouse. Her hazel eyes gazed into his blues, and as he scrutinized the thought of making a move, Cleo’s mouth opened to speak once more. “I’d have to disagree.” A large sigh escaped his lungs, and a smile found its way to his lips. “I know exactly what to do with women like you.” He held out the spliff with one hand, the other grabbing the bottle of whiskey from her, not bothering to wait for her to offer it to him halfway. His large hand ghosting over her own for a second, he pulled it from her grip and raised it to his lips.

It had been wishful thinking on Cleo’s part to hope that Beckett’s ears or ego could go without hearing his own name and the word ‘hot’ in the same sentence. Gritting her teeth as he replied, the brunette attempted an alibi that would offer her at least some semblance of protection from ever hearing about this mishap again. “I mean, you’re not totally ugly.” Cleo retorted, her gaze out on the lake as she was unable to look at him in fear that the truth of her words might seep through into her expression. “You just hang out with a lot of ugly guys so the bar is pretty low…” Words trailing off, Cleo hoped that would suffice. If Beckett were smart and not just cocky, he would see the err in her words, given how frequently she had already expressed a vehement interest in his friend Tyler and Cleo Sutherland did not go anywhere near unattractive guys. 

Judging by how quickly Cleo had roped Beckett’s attention, she figured it was safe to assume her previous comment was long forgotten. Except now she had to deal with his stare, the weight of it heavy and uncertain as their gazes locked, neither giving any indication of how the idea really made them feel. The fact that Beckett didn’t instantly scowl and recoil at the thought of kissing her only served to confirm Cleo’s suspicions that the attraction that annoyingly and persistently lingered between them wasn’t one sided. That whatever she felt, he felt it too, to some degree. For a moment, things were so still that Cleo was sure he was going to go through with it and make a move, but he didn’t and the brunette couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed.  Whether intentional or not, Beckett’s words sent a wave of heat across Cleo’s skin that was so warm, not even the chilled nighttime air could relieve it. Her mind instantly flashed with sordid images of all the things he could do and she wondered for a moment, if his mind was going to all the same perverse places. “Women like me, hm?” She hummed, her grin continuing to grow. Cleo wished he would elaborate, not only on what type of woman he thought she was for her own entertainment, but also exactly how he would handle her, if given the chance.

Shaking her head slightly, Cleo raised a hand to signal she was done. Any more hits from Beckett’s weed and Cleo was going to find herself in a coma on the floor given how low her tolerance was for that drug in particular. That was not how she planned on spending the rest of the weekend and quite frankly, was already pleased with the subtle buzz she had. She didn’t even argue when Beckett snatched the bottle away from her unexpectedly, not even when his hand seemed to glide over her skin just a little too easily for it to be considered a coincidence. As fleeting as the touch was, Cleo couldn’t help herself from wanting a bit more. The lust that darkened in her gaze as she stared over at him was as obvious as its ever been and if Cleo was lucky, it would be hard for him to make it out in such dim lighting. She tried to kill the longing inside of her with all the ways she found him vile, but Cleo’s efforts were futile with everything swirling around in her system. She no longer trusted herself to be this close to him so she pushed herself up off the dock. Toes hanging over the edge, Cleo stared down at the black water. In all its murkiness and uncertainty, she felt drawn to it, desperate to rid her body of the chills Beckett left her with that she couldn’t quite shake.

Diving into the water with a grace only Cleo could muster in her lack of sobriety, she surfaced from the dock about six feet away, already feeling somewhat lighter. Treading in the water, Cleo bobbed up and down, the waves splashing along her neck as she watched Beckett on land. She should have wanted to keep the distance between them, but found herself inclined to do the exact opposite. “You gonna make me swim alone?” She called out, taunting him with a grin. To add fuel to the fire and undoubtedly make her conflictions worse, Cleo peeled her soaking wet tank top from her skin and balled it up before launching it towards where Beckett was sitting. She missed by a few good inches, the article landing near him with a splat against the wood. Next came her shorts, the only thing left other than her panties. The material was heavier and easier to throw, striking Beckett firmly where he sat. Cleo’s face lit up with her victory, hoping the gesture would provoke him enough to join her.

Beckett never thought that watching Cleo imbibe in some of his finest green would be so aesthetically pleasing. And although surprising since she was usually so against anything she couldn’t blast up her nose, he watched as her pink lips formed a pout around the spliff. He didn’t focus on her inhalation, instead his mind quietly wandering to a darker place where he wondered exactly what she could do with those lips when she put her mind to it.

He allowed a chuckle to rumble his chest, unaware if it was the narcotics or her caustic wit that caught him off guard and elicited the reaction, and he decided he wasn’t going to waste time or what little of his conscience he had left trying to figure it out. “Ah, Paige.” He remembered the girl with a distant look in his eye and a tiny smirk on his lips. “Gave her drugs one time at a party and now she wont stop following me around.” The smirk grew into another chuckle when Cleo mentioned the girls nose job. “Yeah, but her tits were done by some plastic surgeon moonlighting as a goddamn artist, I swear.” He thought fondly on them. He hadn’t slept with her, she was a little too trashy and a little too clingy for his liking, but he remembered the time she flashed him and Tyler at a party while fucked up on MDMA.

Beckett sipped the bottle of whiskey that was handed to him, taking a second to enjoy the moment of peace between himself and Cleo, swapping alcohol and weed. Talking and connecting without constant belittling and berating each other.  He handed the whiskey back, swapping for the spliff, his large fingers brushing against her smaller ones as they passed it to one another. “Really? How kind of you.” He was only slightly sarcastic, the curve of his lips insinuating his words were partly in jest. “Maybe you should be smoking with me more often if it’s making you this nice.”

Cleo scrutinized Beckett’s expression as he recalled a distant memory of the girl. She was trying to determine if he was telling the full story, that all he had done was given her a few pills or a bump or two and that was as far as their relationship went -- much to Paige’s disappointment. In their social circle, there were some people that would stretch and bend the truth about their sex lives, simply to keep up appearances and the gossip at bay, but Beckett didn’t have a reason to lie to Cleo. Other than maybe spite, but since his demeanor toward her seemed as good as its ever been, she decided to take his word for it. “Oh don’t pretend as if you don’t love the fact that there’s another girl who won’t get off your dick.” She chided teasingly, knowing good and well that was the kind of shit Beckett and his posse lived for -- being the richest, hottest, and most desirable men in the Tri-state area. So this was just one of those things that came with the territory. Rolling her eyes at the mention of Paige’s rack, Cleo neglected to acknowledge Beckett’s compliment towards the girl. If she wanted, Cleo could have the best god damn tits that money could buy. Surely, they would have been better than that nobody Paige’s, but there was something off-putting about having literal water-filled, plastic balloons surgically attached to her chest. Cleo liked her naturally perky, obviously above average chest and she’s certainly never been given any grief about them from anyone who’s had the rare privilege to see or touch them, so why would she be so anxious to run out and change an already good thing? 

It was hard for Cleo to tell if this sudden change between her and Beckett was fleeting, a mere result of being liquored up all day and forced to share such close quarters or if it was here to stay. Maybe they were finally realizing that neither of them were going anywhere and they had no choice but to suck it up and adjust. It was still too soon to tell, but Cleo was sure it would be a bit easier once the buzzing haze of a day’s worth of alcohol wasn’t impacting her judgement so heavily. “We might not have a choice in that soon enough since all of our friends seem to enjoy pairing off so much.” She mumbled behind the lip of the whiskey bottle as she went to drink from it again. Right now, Cleo didn’t mind it. Especially since there was still a part of her that was grateful that Beckett wasn’t the one currently inside fucking her best friend. “And what I don’t understand about this whole thing is, how are we the hottest ones here and we’re the only ones not getting laid?” The liquor Cleo had ingested loosened her lips just a little too much, since before she could stop herself, an inadvertent compliment not suited for the relationship she and Beckett had slipped right out of her mouth. Of course there was still a chance he might not have caught it, considering he was pretty fucked up too, but even if he did, it’s not like they both couldn’t deny what she had said was true. Their egos were far too big for them to contest that.

In an effort to make a point that her words were in no way to be taken seriously, Cleo spoke again. This time, saying something even more ludicrous than the last -- as if doing so would somehow negate the fact that she had just openly admitted that she found Beckett hot and at the same tier of attractiveness as she was. “You wanna make out? Might make us feel better about ourselves.” The corners of Cleo’s mouth twitched upward, a small smirk playing on her lips. She wasn’t serious. At least that’s what she was trying to convince herself, anyway. Or maybe, she just needed to use humor to deflect so that Beckett wouldn’t be able to tell that she actually meant it. Because how fucked up would she be if Cleo actually allowed herself to want such a taboo thing? Glancing over at the male, Cleo’s eyes studied the length of him, spending a particularly long moment unknowingly admiring his lips. Guiltily, she had thought about them like this before, and now, she found herself fixating on them again. And as much as she didn’t want to admit it because of how goddamn cliche it was to need the attention of the opposite sex, Cleo was lonely. And the fact that her friends were all enjoying the company of hot men tonight and she wasn’t made her bitter. If anyone deserved to enjoy a few orgasms tonight, it was her. 

“Kidding.” She added quickly, suddenly fearing that Beckett would see right through her facade. That was the last thing she wanted to happen. Hazel eyes holding his attention for just a moment longer, Cleo then turned her gaze back to the lake, a smile still ghosting her lips. “You wouldn’t even know what to do with me.” It was easier for her to revert back to insulting him than it should have been, but there was still a fond playfulness in her tone. 

When Cleo accepted the gesture he held between them, a neatly rolled spliff, he thought he was going to have a conniption. He figured she was capable of being moderately nice sometimes - she did have a few friends and her mother put up with her shit so she had to have some sort of positive emotional traits people weighed in favor of her company - he just didn’t think she was the type to exhibit such behavior in his presence. He knew she was a coke girl, preferring to stay away from tobacco and weed, and here she was offering to partake in both with a grin, and in Beckett’s company none the less. What the fuck was going on?

After he quickly pondered the concept and his mind uttering the words ’what the fuck’ over and over, he held onto his spliff and followed Cleo through the dark hallway of the lake house. Watching her navigate it like she had been the one spending summers here as a kid, missing squeaky floorboards and pieces of furniture, he would have complimented her situational awareness or basic intellect if they didn’t have the relationship they had. He huffed in response to her words and wondered if whatever possessed between them was slowly changing however because he was about to share whiskey and his weed with a girl he otherwise despised. He chalked it all up to the fact of gratitude; Beckett grateful over the fact that he was not about to smoke up alone, and relief that it was not Cleo and Tyler in his room getting down and dirty. He agreed with her, though he didn’t voice that opinion. He too would rather not gather more company, and he had some witty double entendre in his repertoire about what he thought she could handle but decided against voicing it, instead biting his tongue hopes of keeping the peace. Jesus fucking Christ, what was happening to him?

He followed behind, sitting beside Cleo on the edge of the dock that protruded from his property. Next to them a large boathouse where his father kept some of Beckett’s favorite toys, the boat they used for wake boarding, and the new jetskis his father had purchased. With one leg dangling over the edge; his left foot resting in the water, the lake still warm from the preceding days sun, his other leg was pulled up against him, right arm relaxing against his knee. He placed the spliff between his lips, and hummed a laugh whilst pulling a lighter from his pocket. “Decent?” He flicked the flint, producing a flame and igniting the end, pulling smoke into his mouth. “Bitch, please, I have exceptional taste.”  He took another pull on the joint and let a cloud of smoke surround the two of them. “Some of my more considerable strength’s are whiskey, business and women.” He thought about bringing up his father’s tastes too, and Charlotte, who Beckett couldn’t deny was also rather stunning. For a woman old enough to be his own mother, he had to give it to her, she was still keeping shit tight, and he decided to be rather diplomatic in choosing his words. “And my Dad, well…” he held the spliff out to her, “He is dating your mother.”

Cleo didn’t think there would ever come a day when Beckett used the word ‘bitch’ in a sentence and he wasn’t using it to directly insult her character. The lighthearted comment seemed more like something that would be shared between friends rather than two individuals who have hated each other since the first day they met, but nonetheless, it had earned a genuine laugh from the dark haired female. Had she been feeling a bit more charitable, perhaps Cleo would have admitted to not giving him enough credit where it was due. After all, Beckett did have above average taste in many things compared to his peers. His wardrobe was almost up to par with her own and he spent his fortune on the newest and trendiest things, just as she would. Leaning back onto her elbows, pressing them into the warm wood of the dock, Cleo teasingly squinted her eyes in his direction, peering at him as she debated how much leniency she was actually going to grant him.

The whiskey was good. Strong, but it went down easy. And Cleo knew from all the gloating her mother did on his behalf that Beckett was excelling in Harvard’s business program. The one thing she had very little to go on was his taste in women. Beckett wasn’t nearly as forward with his dating life and who he was sleeping with as his friends, which made Cleo all the more curious about it. She hoped that maybe with all the progress they were making tonight that he might elaborate on that subject just a bit. “I’ll give you 2 out of 3. The women one? Still up in the air.” Pausing to take another sip from the whiskey bottle, Cleo continued on with the intent of proving her point before Beckett could rebuttal. “Bora Bora? That girl I saved you from was beyond questionable. And I’ve seen all the looks that Paige whatever-her-name-is girl gives you at parties. There’s got to be some history there. And no offense, but her nose job looks like it was performed down in Tijuana by a man who got his medical license off Google. So I’ve seen nothing but poor taste in that department.”

“Ooh touche.” Cleo hummed, offering an approving nod as she accepted the neatly rolled joint from Beckett’s grasp. In return, she slid the bottle of whiskey in his direction. “She makes me feel better about getting old since I’ll probably be just as hot as her in 30 years.” Laughing, though totally honest in her words, Cleo leaned slightly over the side of the dock to flick the ashes off the glowing red end of the spliff into the lake. Bringing it to her lips, she took a hit, not as impressive as Beckett’s, but enough to feel the burn deep in her lungs. Tilting her head up towards the sky, Cleo exhaled, but held on to it with the intention of hitting it again. Though her experience with marijuana was far limited compared to his, Cleo could tell this was some good shit. She didn’t expect anything less from Beckett in all honesty, since he was about as serious with his weed as she was with her coke. Only the best that money could buy, otherwise, what was the point? “I might even allow you to add this to that list.” She added, raising the joint in the air between them before she repeated the same process over again and then offered it back to Beckett.

Beckett had a feeling, darkly defiant of any rational analysis. Plagued his mind even, and despite the moans and banging noises coming from down the hall, he wondered if this was where his night was finally going to take a turn for the better. Cleo’s pink lips curved in the dark of the hallway, an innocent smile devoid of any smarmy manner appeared. He would have praised its beauty if it didn’t seem so out of place. Usually the only thing she ever sent in his direction were smirks at his expense in their little game of ‘who can annoy each other the most until the other leaves the room’. Her thumb jutted in the direction of the noises, her words trailing off, insinuating she too had been under the impression that the other had been in the room. He had mistaken her for Ivy and it seemed she had mistaken him for Tyler, and she looked about as relieved as he was that she had ended up mistaken. However he reserved that tangent for later, when he was trying to get to sleep and his mind could run a million miles a minute.  "Yeah,“ Beckett exhaled a laugh as his gaze flew down the hallway for a fraction of a second. "Just as dirty and twice as cheap roo.”

She waved a bottle of whiskey in front of him, tiny fist curled around the neck of the bottle he knew well. An expensive bottle of Macallan 25, an emergency bottle his father kept stored away in his office because it was too good for consumption by anyone who wasn’t a King, and had become to be exclusively consumed by Beckett whenever he came to the lakehouse. He wasn’t even entirely sure if his Father remembered it’s existence, so he quickly deduced that what William didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt Beckett in the long run. He could get away with drinking a $2,000 bottle of Scotch if it meant he was going to try wash away some of the thoughts he had been having today.  "Macallan 25, good choice.“ He looked at the mostly full bottle of amber liquid, before his eyes shifted back to her own.  He contemplated the thought, briefly; but shooting down her moderately polite offer of company and whiskey was not something he wanted to do. However, he reminded himself to remain cavalier. "I’ll join you. I was about to head out for a spliff anyway.” It was his turn to wave his rolled work of art in between them. “If you wanted some.”

For the second time tonight, Beckett had surprised Cleo. Adding on to her insult regarding their friends, she found his responding quip funny enough to produce a genuine laugh that fell gracefully from her lips — a sound that likely surprised them both. It came without an ounce of snark or resentment and wasn’t followed by an evil sneer or chastising roll of her eyes. They were having a normal interaction like two mature adults and Cleo could hardly believe it. As strange as it felt, there was also something nice about it. Even though her insides were squirming, begging to jump at the first chance to say the first bitchy thing that came to mind, Cleo refrained. She was okay with the civility between them. It wasn’t nearly as exhausting and she was starting to get the feeling that maybe Beckett wasn’t as miserable to be around as she first thought. Maybe she was actually going to enjoy his company. The compliment he gave her in regards to the drink, Cleo accepted willingly, though she chose the bottle more so out of convenience than preferred taste. She knew that kind words coming from him may not be spoken aloud again once outside the walls of this lake house or even by the time the sun rose in the morning, so she tucked the memory away for safe keeping. And potentially blackmail. But hopefully, only the former.

Cleo hadn’t even begun to realize the whirlwind of emotions that were swirling around in her head while time stood still as she waited for him to address her invitation. When he finally agreed, once again, she was flooded with relief. A little bit of joy. Mixed in with a ton of other shit she couldn’t make sense of right now and wasn’t even going to bother to try. At least with the whiskey and the weed, maybe she’d be able to forget about things for a bit. “I mean… since you’re offering.” She replied with a small shrug as a tiny grin ghosted across her lips. Between the two of them, Cleo and Beckett were pretty selfish individuals. So for either of them to be offering to share anything that they claimed as their own was out of the ordinary, but Cleo was going to roll with it anyway. Hell, she never even really smoked that often — preferring to snort things up her nose rather than blow smoke rings out from it, but if this was their metaphorical peace pipe, then by damned Cleo was going to take a puff from it. At least for tonight. Hearing more sounds coming from their friends, the noise resembling more like talking than the previous grunting and moaning meant that Tyler and Ivy were likely finished. “Let’s go.” Cleo took a few steps towards Beckett, heading down the dark hall. “I’d rather not accumulate more company. You’re enough for me to handle.” Teasingly, Cleo flashed a smirk up at Beckett before passing him and heading towards the back of the lake house.

Trying to make as little sound as possible, she tiptoed around the place, surprised by how well she was able to navigate it despite it only being her first night there. Cleo chalked it up to being a natural at everything. Once outside and after crossing through the massive backyard towards the docks, Cleo padded all the way to the very end of it before she plopped down on her butt, allowing her feet to dangle over the edge just above the water. Utilizing much of her might, the tiny brunette wrenched the cap off the bottle of whiskey and took a hefty swig from it before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Charlotte would have likely passed out cold at the sight of such unladylike behavior. “Not bad.” She hummed with an approving nod, biting her tongue at the strong taste. “Maybe you and your old man have decent taste after all.” Cleo added with a laugh.

Beckett praised his prowess in predicting the future, or at least, inferring the unknown from the known facts. It was easy to deduct where this night was going to lead - especially after a headache had settled in the base of his skull and his drinking took the backseat so to speak. He pulled away slightly, not doing as much coke either, sitting back and watching the night unfold into exactly what he expected. His moderately sober state provided him a view of his friends intoxicated flirting and pairing off. Ivy had been practically hanging off his dick all day after their jet-ski ride, and after he given her many signals insinuating ’no’, by the time the lines came out, he ended up ignoring her almost completely. He figured it could have gone of of two ways, sleeping with Ivy meant Tyler was running rampant looking for something to hump and he would undoubtedly only have Cleo for the taking, and she had been entirely too friendly throughout the day already. If he kept his dick dry for the night Ivy would be fighting for the attention of the only other male available, and he knew that she wasn’t about ready to loose something else to Cleo today.

But despite all this, it seemed his almost perfect planning had failed, because Tyler was in their room fucking someone - and the last thing he wanted to walk in on was him going hard on Cleo.He cursed the image, the thought boiling his blood. He didn’t know why it angered him so much. Cleo hanging off his best friend, and sending him all the signals that implicated she wanted to sleep with him. Perhaps it was her motive, seemingly the prevailing reason she wanted to fuck Tyler was because she knew it would fuck off Beckett. Or - the reason he had been trying to bury in the deep recesses of his subconscious - he was the one who wanted Cleo. And the last thing he wanted was for his friend to have something that he wanted for himself. He tried to remind himself it was purely sexual, that no matter how gorgeous that body was, or how tight that pussy could have been, she was still a fucking nightmare, and his apparent jealousy was born of out pure physical attraction and nothing else.

So taking a moment to himself, not being able to sleep because one half of his double bedroom was taken by Tyler and who he could only assume was Cleo. He went to his car to roll a spliff and decided to treat himself to some stargazing for a few minutes, because he doubted his friend was going to take any longer than that to do the dirty. Walking down the dark hallway, using the illumination of the summer moon to move around the house that was like a second home to him, he turned down the hallway and walked right into a petite body. Letting out a groan at the contact of a hard body hitting his own, he pulled back to see a familiar head of dark hair. Blue eyes meeting the hazels he had come to know so well, he faltered for a second. Shocked, and mildly elated that Cleo was wandering about the lakehouse in the dead of night, while he could still hear the quiet moans emitting from his bedroom, he took a second to realize that whatever he thought or expected of this night had come to fruition in the way he had hoped. That his soon to be step sister was not the one in his bedroom getting down and dirty with his best friend. “Hey.” His voice was quiet in the almost dead of night, and surprisingly his tone was without judgement or malice. “Can’t sleep?”

By this time of the night, Cleo was sure that she was the only one who could be caught wandering around the lake house. The other guests were either sleeping off their night’s worth of drinking and other party favors or they were going at each other like dogs in heat. At least that’s what Cleo thought, right before she ran into another body that was hard and immovable, causing her to stop in her tracks and take a shaky step backward. Fixing her eyes up, in the shadows of the moonlight as it peeked through the home’s skylight windows, Cleo could make out the darkened face of her almost step-brother. His voice soon followed, breaking the silence with a casual ‘hey’ as if they were friends. Or even on good terms for that matter. The cordial remark had taken her off guard, but right now, Cleo couldn’t focus on the strange exchange that had just occurred between them. Her head was too busy dealing with the overwhelming feeling of relief that flooded through her at the realization that Beckett wasn’t the one who was currently pounding Ivy into the headboard. It was made worse by the stark confusion that clouded her thoughts as to why she felt that way. Why did it fill her with a feeling that felt eerily similar to happiness to know that he was spending his night alone, rather than rolling around in the sheets with her best friend? Although she had a feeling it probably had something to do with her own guilt-ridden fantasies that involved Beckett fucking the living shit out of her until her eyes rolled back in her head and her toes curled, Cleo wasn’t near ready to admit that to anyone. Not even herself.

“Hey.” She replied quickly without even thinking about how stupid it sounded coming out of her mouth. Shaking her head and scolding herself over the strangeness of it all, Cleo furrowed her brows and jut her thumb in the direction of Beckett and Tyler’s room. “I uh… thought you were… y’know…” Letting her words trail off, the quietness between them filled with the grunts and moans of their friends, Cleo immediately changed the subject, hopefully before he could infer what she was talking about. The last thing she wanted to do was give him the impression that she cared about his sex life. “Never mind.” Obviously both she and Beckett were in the same boat, unable to find enough peace and quiet in this place to relax and let sleep take over. It was the first time ever Cleo found herself relating to the male. Something she never imagined in her wildest dreams would happen. “Would you be able to sleep having to listen to that? They sound like they belong in a low-budget, filmed-in-your-parent’s-basement porno.” Cracking a genuine smile, Cleo couldn’t believe how much better she instantly felt. She had been seconds from going off on a lonely, heavy binger for reasons and feelings she still didn’t understand and suddenly, things were better. Because of Beckett. How the fuck did that happen?

“Thankfully, I stumbled upon this and I figured it would help.” Tiny hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle she had found in the office, Cleo raised the whiskey out in front of her, waving it in the air between them. “I was going to head out to the dock if you maybe wanted to come… I mean, this bottle is probably yours anyway so...” Now she was asking him to hang out with her. Cleo couldn’t believe what the world was coming to. What she was coming to. Sudden fear of rejection swelled up in her, given their nasty history being around one another and instantly, Cleo felt the need to offer him an out to save herself the embarrassment in case he decided to turn her down. He would be the first guy to ever do so, but then again, this was Beckett she was talking about. He was someone whose behavior was almost as unpredictable as her own. “You probably just want to go crash on the couch... It’s fine. I’m more than capable of drinking alone.”

After rummaging around the kitchen for a snack, Cleo went in search of some more liquor to pour herself a nightcap, if there was even any left after the day’s shenanigans. It took more effort than the girl wanted to exert at this time of night, but after a tedious search, she stumbled upon an aged bottle of whiskey hidden in a drawer in the lake house’s office. Why the lake house even had an office when it’s entire purpose was to be a place of relaxation, Cleo had no clue. Padding through the darkened hallway towards the deck, the brunette stopped dead in her tracks, her heartbeat quickening at the loud knocking sound coming from behind the door. The door to the bedroom Beckett was supposed to be sharing with Tyler. The sound wasn’t hard to identify, given the others that soon followed it. Deep, husky grunts were echoed by throaty moans that were growing louder in pitch. Cleo had a hard time swallowing the lump that had risen in her throat, her body stiff with the realization that it was her best friend behind those walls. It only took her a second longer to jump to the conclusion that the male who was currently fucking Ivy’s brains out was Beckett. Who else could it be? Cleo had practically shoved him into Ivy’s welcoming arms, given how she had been clinging to Tyler all day. It was only fair that he return the favor. In a wave of aggravation, bitterness, and dare she say — jealousy, Cleo clenched her tiny fists and stomped passed the room, hoping to never hear that sound again. Now she was determined to get drunk, to chug the entire bottle of whiskey herself until the sound of Beckett pleasuring Ivy was permanently erased from her memory. 

Beckett’s grip on Cleo’s thighs tightened when she ran her thin fingers through his wet hair, pushing it back from his eyes so he could see properly. It was a passionate, thoughtful gesture that gave him pause, and his posture stiffened before realizing they were locked in a fierce battle with their friends and it was simply a competitive gesture borne from her strong motive to win. Regardless, he pulled himself back to reality as their opponents finished their little talk, and he nodded in reply to her order. Only doing so because it was his plan already, and not because she told him to do so.

They started back up, Ivy and Cleo’s hands clasping together to signify the start of the next round. He conceded to her wishes, gripping her tighter and bringing them closer to their adversaries. Beckett’s head tilted up as he watched Ivy sink her nails into Cleo’s side, eliciting a shriek and a flinch, he quickly compensated for her wince and moved against her movements, steadying them quickly. The feisty brunette on his shoulders was at her wits end it appeared and her tiny fist gripped in their opponents hair and yanked down with considerable force. He would have praised her dirty tactics if they weren’t in the heat of the moment, before her hand moved to the back of Ivy’s neck and pulled at the string of her bikini. Cleo let go of her, pushing away slightly, forcing Beckett to take a step back and allowed him a full view of Ivy’s breasts that were now on show. Beckett’s mouth curved into a full blown smile, and at Cleo’s words a loud laugh escaped his parted lips. The topless brunette was quick to rearrange her bikini to cover herself up before she fell into the water. Beckett had been adamant he was going to hate this holiday, now all he could think was about how much he was going to enjoy it. If the girls were this competitive it would certainly make for an interesting trip. The lengths these girls went to for success and attention was cripplingly clear, and he was rather excited to see how the next few days came to fruition.

At their clear win, Beckett’s hands left Cleo’s thighs to raise above him in victory, if only to rub it in Tyler’s face even more to show that he was the conqueror. They basked in their victory for a little while longer, their friends on the sidelines laughing, cheering and giggling in equal shock at the display of brief nudity that had just ensued, before Cleo left his shoulders and made her way gracefully back into the water, resurfacing next to him before swimming closer.

She smiled smugly up at him, and his eyes briefly cast to Ivy repositioning her bikini and talking to Tyler, before he looked back at his team mate. His happiness at their triumph was short lived when Cleo opened her mouth. “Are you kidding me?” He tried to resist a smirk that was bred out of disbelief. “Without my height you would have been fucked. I’m the only reason you’re gonna be riding around new jet-ski’s this weekend. You should be bowing down to me.”

Why? Why couldn’t Beckett just let Cleo have this one thing to herself? The stupid bloke may have given her a few extra inches she wouldn’t have had if she had gotten stuck with another partner, but he certainly didn’t contribute much otherwise. He wasn’t the one who knew Ivy’s weaknesses and he wasn’t the one who helped her execute her ingenious plan to exploit them. But of course, in true Beckett King fashion, he had to stake claim on something and right now, that something was Cleo’s victory. She was determined to not let him bring her down though, not when she still wanted to ride out the high that came with her win.

Reaching up to grab Beckett’s jaw between her thumb and the remainder of her fingers almost pinching his cheeks, Cleo ensured that Beckett’s gaze was locked on her and on her only so he could hear her loud and clear. “Let’s get one thing straight,” she stated matter-of-factly. “The last place you will ever find me down on my knees, is in front of you. So you can forget about that right now.” As bitchy as her tone was, the look on Cleo’s face did not match it. She wore a large, shit-eating grin as to give everyone else that surrounded them the impression that she and Beckett were having a pleasant conversation. Not that that was something that ever occurred between the two of them given how often they clashed. “I’m going to go invite Tyler on my fancy, new jetski now.” Cleo added, promptly turning on her heel in the pool, her soaking wet hair nearly whipping Beckett as she spun around and waded away from him towards the steps.

He resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes, throw his hands in the air and tell Cleo to fuck right off, however he persevered. Maintaining the illusion that Cleo and himself were a team to be reckoned with, which seemed like some form of a sick joke to him. Forces to be reckoned with, most definitely, but a ’team’? That was not a noun he would have used to explain their peculiar relationship. His eyes drifted to Tyler for a split second, wondering if he was laughing his traitorous ass off at his friend’s misfortune. Beckett had only complained about Cleo’s existence since the day she arrived in his fucking life. Was Tyler really that fucking stupid? Or just that ignorant? To go with Ivy when he very well knew how he felt about his soon to be step sister? Beckett tried to calm himself, a reminder that he wouldn’t give a fuck about this shit in a span of minutes he decided to try forget about it, and use whatever anger he harbored as fuel for the ’friendly’ game of chicken that was about to ensue.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Cleo’s foot situating on the flat of his upper thigh. Her tiny hands gripped his shoulders for support and her bikini clad breasts were practically pressed against his nose as she tried to gain leverage. He hardly had time to contemplate the thought of how this was eerily like one of his fantasies he had dreamed of before she hurled herself up, one of her legs wrapped securely around his shoulders. For fuck’s sake, he had definitely thought about that while lying in bed late at night. The fantasy of Cleo’s legs over his shoulders as he committed lascivious acts on her body was easier to picture now as a possible reality. Before he delved too deeply into the thoughts of feasting on her body and taking her every which way, he reminded himself it was neither the time or the fucking place. He violently pushed the thoughts from his mind as she wriggled her position on his shoulders. Beckett dropped the small smirk that had graced his lips he hadn’t even noticed appearing. Her legs tightened around his neck, and her voice rung through his ears. He fought the urge to roll his eyes once more at her lame attempt at shit talking and walked forward, assuming the position he utilized whenever he played this game; legs shoulder width a part, with his left foot slightly behind his right in a fighting stance, his large hands gripped her lower thighs, the smooth skin above her knee, to ensure she stayed on his shoulders during their bout of chicken. When Cleo’s hands met Ivy’s, the game was on, and Beckett heard the cheers from their group of friends in the distance, though he focused on the task at hand and blocked them out. His grip tightened on her thighs, and he stepped forward a tiny amount to increase their formidable force. Beckett’s height difference over Tyler was easily a few inches, which despite Ivy’s height evening the two teams out, he knew that all the power was coming from the boy’s when the balance and leverage was all up to the girls. His eyes drifted upwards, locked on Cleo’s and Ivy’s hands clasped together, trying to rip each other off their respective shoulders.

Although Cleo should have been focusing on kicking Ivy’s ass at no expense spared, her mind wasn’t in the game completely. Instead, it kept noticing Beckett’s hands. The way they glid easily along the sleek skin of her leg, gripping tighter when he was trying to keep a good hold on her for the sake of winning. Normally, she would have associated any touch with the male to be unwanted and feel repulsive, like a million beestings or spiders crawling all over her. But right now, all Cleo could feel were sparks — a strange tingling sensation and an absolutely insane and ridiculous desire to have those large, powerful hands creep up closer towards her bikini bottom. It was frustrating, to say the least, when she shouldn’t have been thinking those kinds of things at all, much less right now. The only thing that had freed her from those thoughts was the feeling of Ivy twisting her wrist back in a direction it wasn’t meant to go. Wincing slightly as she recoiled from the uncomfortable position, Cleo glared at the girl as she grit her teeth, conjuring up her most intimidating game face. “You bitch.” Now it was Cleo’s turn to strike. Time seemed to stand still for a moment as Cleo readjusted herself on Beckett’s shoulders, regaining her center of balance so she was ready for what she hoped would be her first and last blow on Ivy that would send her tumbling towards the surface of the water. The girl had hit a nerve in Cleo and now she was determined to fight back ruthless and dirty. Bending slightly at the hip so she could lean down and talk to Beckett without their opponents being able to hear, the brunette mumbled a few instructions. “Get as close to them as you can. And don’t let me fall. No matter what.”

As she resumed her full height, Cleo took an extra moment to use her hand to smooth Beckett’s damp hair back that threatened to impede his vision. Thankfully, Ivy and Tyler were busy with a pep talk of their own while the rest of their friends were positioned behind her and Beckett so they wouldn’t have been able to see what she was doing. Even if they had, Cleo would have claimed it was in the name of victory, that she couldn’t let anything stand in her way of winning, especially not Beckett’s hair. In reality, she wasn’t sure why she did it when she could have easily told Beckett to fix his own hair. Now that everyone was ready, the teams approached each other again and after Beckett followed Cleo’s instructions, she began to put her plan to work. The girls were a mess of tangled limbs, arms flying everywhere, desperately trying to yank, shove and twist their way to victory. Although neither girl fit the ‘scrappy’ image, they both clearly wanted to win, which meant they were probably being just a hair too rough with one another. Cleo more so than Ivy, simply because the lesser ranked girl had a fear of overpowering the queen that dwelled in the back of her mind. It was clear that Cleo didn’t need Ivy to take it easy on her for her to earn a win all on her own. Now that she was closer to her opponent than she had been before thanks to Beckett actually listening to what she told him to do, Cleo waited for precisely the right moment to attack. Strong arm dodging one of Ivy’s attempts at subduing her, Cleo came at her from the side and hooked an arm around her neck. Tightening her grip, Ivy screeched and wiggled to get out of Cleo’s hold, her arms flailing as she tried to force the other girl off of her. Cleo grinned, holding on to her with all of her might as she waited for the girl to get tired of fighting, which would make her that much easier to beat.

Not going down without a fight, Ivy whipped out a hail Mary move of her own, using one of her hands to reach around towards Cleo’s side and sink her nails into the skin just below her ribs. It was one of Cleo’s most ticklish spots, which is why Ivy had targeted her there even though she was told about that delicate spot in confidence after a drunken discussion about some of their worst sex stories. In response to the hit, Cleo shrieked and flinched, curling her body sideways in attempt to guard that spot. It forced her a little off kilter, so in that moment she had to rely on Beckett to stay steady. When neither girl surrendered, Cleo knew her time had come to end things, no matter the consequences. Craftily using her arm that was around Ivy’s neck, Cleo curled her fingers into every strand of her friend’s hair she could get her hand on and yanked downwards as hard as she could. There was a synchronous “oh shit” moment from the onlookers behind them, but that wasn’t even the end of it. Cleo had one more trick up her sleeve as Ivy screamed and begged for her to let go of her mop of chestnut brown hair. Ivy was going to get her wish, but probably not the way she wanted. Free hand reaching up to pull on the strings of her bikini top, Cleo untied the knot that rested at the base of Ivy’s neck, forcing the top to fall down and her breasts to be exposed. It was only then that Cleo let Ivy out of her headlock and when she did and Ivy threw her body in the opposite direction in an effort to get away from her friend, she noticed that the top half of her was now naked and exposed for all to see. “Nice rack.” Cleo whistled in a cat-calling manner, forcing Ivy to panic and squirm around to shield her form while she also tried to fix her bikini top and get it positioned the right away again. Unlike Cleo, who would have owned the moment because she knew she had boobs that most women would die for, Ivy was a pretty insecure girl, so Cleo had no choice but to exploit that. All the commotion had forced Ivy to lose her balance and teeter back and forth before she eventually slid off of Tyler’s shoulders. It also probably didn’t help that Tyler was suddenly less focused on the game and more on Ivy’s tits.

Seated proudly on her throne, which right now happened to be Beckett’s shoulders, Cleo basked in her win as she towered over everyone, grinning superciliously. Once she gave herself a minute to enjoy the moment, she gracefully slipped off Beckett and landed back in the water. Surfacing only inches from him, Cleo padded through the pool until she stood in front of her teammate, a fresh glisten from the water coating her skin in tiny droplets. “See, told you that we would win.” She beamed up at Beckett smugly, making sure that he was focused on her and hopefully not Ivy as she tucked her breasts back away. “Although you technically should be bowing down at my feet like the rest of them since I pretty much did all the work on my own.”

It was easy to ignore the words that escaped from Cleo’s lips. More so than usual, although he felt like he had been putting in all the hours in practicing this task lately. But it was easy to dismiss the soliloquy that spilled from her pink mouth when he focused on the task at hand. Winning. Concentrating on that and all other things proved successful in his art of disregarding her bullshit. He went back to his beer, downing the rest of its contents in a few gulps. Hoping it would help alleviate some of the stress of having his soon to be step sister here all weekend, and as the thought further dawned on him as he realized he was about to have a bikini clad Cleo on his shoulders. He turned his head, and saw her ridding herself of her clothes. She pulled her shorts down her long, tanned legs, bending over ever so slightly to give him a better view of her ass before they were discarded at her feet

He sucked in a breath,  and cast his glance around the pool to their acquaintances to make sure his lingering gaze hadn’t been noticed. He didn’t know if it was intentional or accidental, but she came to stand next to him with crossed arms and shot him a knowing glance, like she knew he had been watching the little show she put on. Which confused him even more, because here they were still teasing each other, in many differing ways that would have broached many lines deemed inappropriate for two young adults about to become ‘family’. Though, with their continuous dubious deeds and messing with each other, he couldn’t help but wonder where all this was going to lead. By this point he had gathered than neither of them were eager to submit while in the midst of their little war. While his mind was about to delve into the horrible possibilities of the future, Beckett looked at the pool when he heard a loud splash. Ivy and Tyler sent Gabe and Tessa into the water, leaving the former to celebrate in their victory. Cleo shot him a snarky smirk, commenting that he had been waiting a long time to have his head in between her thighs before diving into the pool with grace. He growled quietly to himself because although that might have been something he had fantasized about, it was definitely not something she knew. If he didn’t abhor most of the facts of her existence he would have admired her blinding confidence. Shaking the thoughts from his mind as her voice rung out again, he followed suit, diving into the pool with a splash. Swimming past Gabe and Tessa, he surfaced closer to the shallow end, next to Cleo and opposite their opponents. “Alright, lets get this shit over with.” He came to stand next to Cleo, casting a quick glance in her direction he turned his back to her and kneeled down in the water so her short frame could easily situate herself on his shoulders.

For once, it seemed that both Beckett and Cleo were on the same page. They shared the same desire in wanting to get this game over with as quickly as possible, likely due to a slew of different reasons, aside from just wanting to claim their victory in front of all their friends. When Cleo originally suggested playing chicken, she envisioned things going a much different way. Now she was stuck being Beckett’s partner and having to work with him rather than against him while she clung to Tyler’s shoulders and obnoxiously flirted with him in front of her soon-to-be step brother. When Beckett finally made his way by Cleo’s side and kneeled down in the water for her to hop on his shoulders, the brunette scoffed and shook her head. “Do I look like I’m walking around on fucking stilts?” She asked, brows furrowed. Even with Beckett crouching, Cleo still lacked the inches to get on his shoulders without the assistance from the side of the pool or even a ladder. If he had more than ten functioning brain cells to his name, maybe he could have figured that out on his own. Yet here she was, taking care of everything again. 

Coming around to his front, Cleo then used Beckett’s bent legs as a makeshift step stool, carefully placing one of her feet near the joint of his knee while she shuffled the other along the sturdy foundation of his thigh, bringing her closer to reaching his torso. When she was close enough, she swung her leg up and around his neck so that it wrapped along the top of his shoulders, using the same sort of motion she did whenever she saddled up to ride one of her horses. Using the slick surface of his skin that was coated in water droplets, Cleo wiggled herself into position and then announced that she was ready, preparing herself further as she pushed her damp dark hair away from her eyes where it clung to her face. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.” Cleo called out cockily to her and Beckett’s opponents as she urged him forward. Approaching the other couplet, Cleo straightened her back and clenched the muscles of her thighs, putting additional pressure on Beckett’s neck to secure herself further. There was no fucking way she was going to accept losing. Not now and not ever. What Cleo lacked in height, Ivy partially made up for and the same went for Beckett and Tyler so this was going to be a pretty fair fight. At least until Cleo decided she was done playing by the rules and started to play dirty. But for now, she would humor them. Finally coming within arms distance of Ivy, Cleo released her hold on Beckett and extended her arms outward, preparing for battle. The other female met her grip and they immediately locked arms as they began to spare, causing rest of the group who had already lost to erupt in a loud burst of cheers.

Beckett sat poolside, quietly calculating the chances he had of winning the new jetskis this weekend. Though a part of him assured himself that if he lost by some peculiar misfortune then he would simply take the jetskis he wanted. Not giving a damn about what he won fair or not - it was his lakehouse and they were his objects of prosperity. As far as Beckett was concerned he could do anything he wanted and regardless of what happened he was confident in his abilities to win a game of chicken. He had spent years versing his friends and had started to get their inadequate strategies assessed according to their appropriate weaknesses. Darcy entered the pool with far more grace than her opponents, especially Nick who cannon-balled into the pool to try to get everyone else wet, before she eventually settled on his shoulders. They ensued to battled it out, Tessa and Darcy hands clasped together as they tried to wrestle the other into the water, while Gabe and Nick tried their best to balance their team-mate.

Beckett lounged poolside, weighing his options - having Cleo on his shoulders; she was a fierce competitor and had a thirst for victory. Or the alternative - being paired up with Ivy; who, he could also tell had a fierce penchant for winning based on the few times he had seen her interacting with others, and a large part of him did want to play the part of the ‘sore winner’ and rub his inevitable triumph in Cleo’s losing face. A large splash was heard as Darcy was sent into the water and Tessa held her hands up happy with her success, egging on their next opponent. Which Beckett was keen in waiting in versing the winner, it meant he’d have to do less work for the same victory everyone else was striving for. Rather than Gabe who was fighting everyone for the jetskis, he was going to sit-back and wait and verse the last couple standing. So he waited, hoping that Cleo would speak up and he would be reduced to being the last person paired up, but his thoughts and plans were interrupted when Ivy pulled Tyler close as soon as the opportunity arose. He swore quietly, and took a large swig of his alcoholic beverage. A coping mechanism for his plans going to hell. He had no idea why Tyler would stick him with his soon to be step sister, before realizing his friend was caught in between a rock and a hard place, and the lesser of two evils seemed to be sticking Beckett with the problem, instead of Tyler trying to deflect its constant and incessant flirting if he had been partnered with it. Beckett didn’t know which idea he despised more. His thoughts were interrupted by the devil herself - halting next to his languid position she spoke in a quiet, commanding voice. Her words almost made him want to laugh, and he would have praised his obvious power of deduction in predicting her thirsty appetite for victory if she hadn’t used such a foul tone. “I got my shit on lock.” Offended that he even had to be pep-talked over something as petty as standing in a body of water with a member of the fairer sex on his shoulders. His eyes cast in her direction before returning to the pool. Tessa and Ivy’s hands clasped in battle as everyone else cheered them on fiercely. The fought with smiles on their faces, until Tessa faltered and Ivy pounced on her weak stability, almost sending her reeling before she caught her balance and persevered. Figuring this was bound to be over quick he stood up from his position, and pulled his glasses from his face, and then pulling his shirt over his abdomen before he paused. “You better win 'cause I’m not riding around on old fucking jet-ski’s all weekend.” Pulling his shirt over his head completely and throwing it on the reclining lounge chair he previously occupied.

While Tessa and Ivy continued to duke it out in the pool, naturally it was only fitting that Beckett and Cleo had their own battle going on from the sidelines. Even when they were supposed to be on the same team and fighting for a common goal, they still couldn’t shy from the opportunity to argue with each other and try to make the other feel inferior. “I got my shit on lock?” Cleo mocked, making her voice a few octaves deeper in an effort to sound more like the male. “Are you kidding? Who says that anymore?” With a repulsed groan, hazel eyes followed Beckett’s and shifted back to their friends in the pool. Tanned, toned limbs flying in every which direction as the duos swayed in the pool, dodging hits and bobbing through the crystalline surface to get away from their opponent before attempting an attack of their own. It was only a matter of time before Ivy won and Cleo knew that. Though she would have preferred if Tessa won, as Ivy’s head had a tendency to blow up whenever she got what she wanted. Not that her winning streak would last long since Cleo had every intention of stealing the final victory and claiming one of the new jet skis as her own. Catching movement out of her periphery, the brunette glanced over just in time to see Beckett rise from his seat and begin to peel his shirt from his body. Allowing herself only a second of visual enjoyment, Cleo quickly averted her gaze from his bare torso and v-lines that were on display, peeking out from above his swim trunks, not wanting to get sucked into that distraction. At least from her spot on his shoulders she wouldn’t have to worry about losing her focus and could concentrate on more important things rather than Beckett’s abs.

Choosing to ignore his last comment, Cleo padded over to the lounge chair a few paces away from Beckett’s. The girl then retrieved Darcy’s phone that was controlling the music and started to scroll through her iTunes library. Landing on DJ Khaled’s ‘All I Do Is Win’, Cleo cranked up the volume and shot Beckett a taunting look with her brows as the intro began, letting the song speak for itself. Then as a payback for ridding himself of his t-shirt directly in front of her, Cleo turned around so that her back was facing Beckett and started to strip down herself. Sticking her thumbs along the inside of her jean shorts, the brunette slowly started to pull them down. Bending forward as she eased them over her backside, Cleo wiggled a bit to help get them down further and over her thighs until they landed in a pool at her ankles. Stepping out of the small pile of material, she then returned back to Beckett’s side, shooting him a glance before turning out and looking back at the pool, arms crossed securely across her chest. As the fight continued to rage on, Tessa started to grow visibly weaker and more exhausted. Darcy had started the process in wearing her down and Ivy was quickly finishing it. Their sparring eventually came to an abrupt halt when Tessa allowed Ivy to get a good grip around her neck, forcing the blonde to panic and yank herself free which caused both her and Gabe to lose their balance, leaving them both submerged in the water. Within seconds, Ivy and Tyler were busy celebrating their victory, which meant it was finally Cleo and Beckett’s turn. Cocking her head to the side to mumble a few words, once again, Cleo made sure only he was able to hear them. “I know it’s been a dream of yours to have your head between my thighs, but try to focus on the task at hand, alright?” With a snarky smile, Cleo then excused herself from his side and approached the water’s edge. After a little jump, Cleo dove gracefully into the pool, barely making a splash before her head emerged through the surface. Wading her way down towards the shallower end of the pool, Cleo impatiently called out to Beckett while the pair they were facing prepared to take them on. “Come on, slowpoke. We don’t have all day.”

His anger flared at Cleo saying she was going to bed Tyler. And try keep her pleasurable moans to a minimal as she condescendingly patted the side of his cheek. Her small form looked up to his tall one, faces close enough that no other person had a chance of hearing their exchanged words before she ripped herself from his personal space. He groaned loudly, and shared a look with Tyler that conveyed some message of ’I told you how bad she was’ before he walked over to cooler full of alcohol they had brought on their trip away. Grey Goose and Macallan, necessities they had all assured themselves and now he was glad they indulged in the luxury of hard alcohols. Maybe the answer to his problems was just to get completely shitfaced on top shelf whiskey. He grabbed his beer from the table, following his friends out the back to the large pool area, and sat down in time to see Gabe and Tessa resurface from the pool.  He wondered how the fuck a girl like Cleo had friends when she acted the way she did, bossing her friends around. Submitting to her every whim, all because they wanted a piece of her prestigious status and her luxurious lifestyle. Though no of them were poor by any standards, he supposed her dead father’s fortune had left quite the comfy nest egg for Charlotte because they were living more lush than most other people he knew. Not including himself of course. But there were few people in the world that rivaled his family’s wealth. God bless oil and the privatization of a precious resource his grandfather was smart enough to utilize.

Nick stepped up, stripping himself of his shirt he was eager to jump in and verse Tessa and Gabe for weekend ownership rights on some brand new jetskis, even if his chances of winning were significantly lower than Gabe’s, let alone Beckett’s or Tyler’s, he was keen to have some fun and ease some tension between Beckett and Cleo. At his questioning of the girls, in who wanted to be on his shoulders in versing their adversaries Beckett spoke up with the faintest of smirks. “What about Darcy?” He cast a look in her direction, before looking back at his friend. She was brunette, cute and almost timidly quiet, exactly how Nick liked them. And though Beckett didn’t know why the fuck his preferred prey was girls like that he decided the best thing him and his friends could do on this trip was try to bed all Cleo’s sycophants. Though, he was adamant he would not be letting Tyler sink his teeth into Cleo, no matter how bad she wanted it. Beckett had him trained better than that. And there was a code called ‘bros before hoes’ that existed between the two best friends, and was the prevailing reason their friendship had thrived through their Harvard years together.

After prompting the group to secure Tessa and Gabe a pair of opponents, Beckett’s friend Nick didn’t waste any time volunteering and quickly rid himself of his shirt. Cleo let her eyes flicker over him, but they didn’t linger. He was cute in a little brotherly way, certainly not anything to marvel at or day dream about him fucking her brains out. Simply not Cleo’s type. He was perfect for Darcy though and Cleo could already tell her mini protege was interested, judging how her behavior had changed significantly since arriving at the lake house after their introduction. Apparently Beckett was also keen on this, seeing he had just volunteered her friend to be Nick’s partner. Glancing over at Darcy, Cleo laughed at how pink her cheeks had suddenly become. It was one thing to be called out by Cleo, but to have Beckett put her on the spot had embarrassed her slightly. “Go on, Darce.” Cleo encouraged, gesturing towards the pool with a nod of her head. Darcy, bless her timid soul, elected not to jump (or be pushed in) like the others, but instead opted to pace all the way around the pool and walk down using the steps, allowing herself to adjust to the water temperature as she waded deeper and deeper. It wasn’t as if she and Nick actually stood a chance against their rivals, but they were both being good sports about the whole thing. Darcy was too nice for a cut throat game like this. Hell, she was probably too nice to even be Cleo’s friend. Maybe that’s why the Sutherland girl kept her around — because she wasn’t like all the rest of the stuck up, bitchy girls in her posse, herself included.

Surprisingly, Darcy and Nick held their own a lot longer than most probably would have anticipated. The girls went back and forth, arms swinging, bodies dipping and swaying, their battle cries drowning out the music playing from inside. Cleo sat idly in observance, studying them from a lounge chair while she sipped her ice cold beer so she could plan her own method of attack. Already she was planning on scooping Tyler up to be her partner, knowing that it would drive Beckett crazy to see her up there on his shoulders. Probably a feeling similar to the one she inevitably knew she would feel, seeing Ivy on top of his. However, Cleo factored in the fact that she and Tyler were shoo-ins for the victory and surely that would help ease the annoyance of seeing her future step-brother with his grubby hands all over Ivy’s legs. After nearly ten minutes, the first group’s sparring finally came to an end, leaving Tessa cheering triumphantly from her place on Gabe’s shoulders. “Who’s next?” She called out cockily, wiggling around in a victory dance as Beckett’s friend held on to her tight. With very little options left as to who would be next, Cleo prepared herself to hop off her chair and make her way into the pool when Ivy suddenly chimed in and beat her to the punch, volunteering her and Tyler as the next set of opponents. Mouth gaping open, Cleo glared at her unknowing friend, ready to protest the unfairness. How dare Ivy snatch her partner out from right under her nose. Apparently, while she had been isolating herself in a strategic effort, Ivy and Tyler had been flirting it up on the opposite side of the pool. Cleo’s wannabe never did strike the brunette as being intelligent or knowing when to take a hint, but now Cleo was suffering the consequences of it. Didn’t Ivy realize Tyler was her pawn and now she was screwing everything up? As Ivy and Tyler prepared themselves to hop in the water, Cleo padded rather fiercely along the concrete towards where Beckett was, since he was the one she was now going to be stuck with. While it certainly could be worse, this was still cutting into her original plan, but Cleo would adapt — like always. “If you screw this up for me, you know you’re dead, right?” She asked, coming to a halt next to his side. “I refuse to lose because of you, especially in front of this many people so you better not embarrass me.”

She stepped forward, languid steps that insinuated she had all the power, and she was willing to lay down the law if she needed to. She fired insults, clutching onto whatever petty words she could throw his way. Beckett knew he was not a nobody. Sole heir to a multi-billion dollar conglomerate, in his last years of his masters at Harvard - he was Beckett fucking King. Cold, calculating, with blue eyes and a jawline that could bed any woman he wanted. He stood up from his sitting position on the couch, lazy repose instantly forgotten. His mind reeled on the possibilities of a lawsuit before realizing how ridiculous the concept was. He highly doubted that her mother, or his father would allow such a frivolous thing as a lawsuit within the family they’re trying so hard to force together. But, her threat did squash the minor thought of throwing her out on her ass. Because that always satisfied Beckett immensely.

She dismissed her friends before he had any chance to refute her futile attempts at superiority. All walking away to their respective errands they had been ordered to do. He supposed his friends would prefer her here, and not because he hadn’t warned them prior about her despicable behavior but because like no man could deny, himself included; Cleo and her friends were just so goddamn hot. Parading around in their swim and lounge wear, all tanned and toned bodies and flowing hair. And though they had heard horror stories, she had never done them any wrong like she had to Beckett. And he didn’t doubt she’d be on her best behavior to seduce and convince them otherwise. She stepped forward, speaking words only intended for their ears alone before she called out to Tyler, waving flirtatiously in his direction. Beckett heard Tyler’s voice, and interrupted him before he could finish uttering the word ‘sure’ and whatever else he was about to say. “Do not indulge her, Tyler.” He sent a single look to his friend that shut him up and it was his turn to step forward. “Your friends most definitely. Don’t jump to any other illusions regarding yourself.”

Lips curling into an amused smile, Cleo watched with a relative fondness as Beckett scolded Tyler who, like her own friends, did as he was told without hesitation. It boggled Cleo’s mind how she and Beckett could be so alike in some ways and still manage to butt heads as much as they do. Maybe they were too similar and that was the problem. “Oh no, Tyler, please — indulge me.” The brunette interjected, her tone teasing as she mocked Beckett’s word choice with a giggle to follow. When Beckett stepped forward himself, Cleo made no sign at showing she was at all intimidated. Her posture was perfect, shoulders pulled back, chin tilted up at an angle, hazel eyes sparkling with blatant opposition. Even as he hovered over her, she stood her ground, providing him with another reminder that she wasn’t going anywhere. With a roll of her eyes, Cleo let Beckett’s words go in one ear and out the other, the way most of them did. She wasn’t jumping to anything by hyping up her superior status. She knew it, Beckett knew it (though he was obviously not keen to admit it) and hell, even her own friends knew it. Cleo was the richest, always having the best and shiniest of everything before anyone else courtesy of her wickedly successful mother and her late father’s enormous trust and life insurance policy. She was the smartest and the most talented, demonstrated by years of perfect grades and wall space cluttered with awards. And when it came to her looks, Cleo was the prettiest and the most desirable. Men didn’t chase her friends the way that they did her, at least not unless they were already aware of how out of their league Cleo e was — though most times that didn’t stop them from trying anyway. Beckett could try as hard as he wanted to convince her, himself and others that it wasn’t true, but there really was no denying the fact. 

Stepping forward further, minimizing what little space was already left between the two of them, Cleo whispered another statement only audible to the male. “Don’t worry, Becky, when I fuck Tyler in your bed later, I’ll try to keep quiet enough so that you won’t hear us.” With a condescending smile, Cleo reached up and patted her hand very patronizingly against the side of Beckett’s cheek. Not that she had any intention of actually doing so, but watching Beckett squirm as she cozied up to his friend while right under his nose would be the icing on the cake to what Cleo was sure would still be a successful weekend. Even if she had to deal with Beckett and all his buzzkill tendencies, Cleo knew she could still manage to have a good time. With that being said, Cleo dismissed herself from Beckett’s company and strut across the room to meet Darcy before she slipped outside with her arms full of drinks. Plucking one from the younger female’s grasp, Cleo turned to look back at Beckett, continuing to smirk behind the lip of her beer bottle as her gaze locked on his. “Who wants to play chicken?” She then called out, skipping through the sliding glass doors and out towards the back patio. “Winners get dibs on the shiny new jet skis all weekend and losers get stuck riding the old ones.” And by old, Cleo meant the less than a year old ones that currently lined one side of the dock — a little tidbit thrown in by Charlotte when she was trying to find reasons to convince her daughter to go to the lake house. Apparently the King’s found it necessary to replenish their stock every time a new model came out so they could stay on top of the latest trends. Cleo had rolled her eyes and called them high maintenance and all her mother did was laugh, knowing that her daughter was the exact same way. Strutting towards the pool, hips swaying in all their usual coquettish glory, Cleo approached Gabe and Tessa who were conversing just next to the pools edge. With one swift movement, the brunette sent them both careening towards the crystal blue surface where they both landed with a giant splash. “Whoops. Looks like you two are up first.” She said innocently with a shrug, turning around to catch someone else’s attention. “Which one of you is going to kick Tessa’s ass?” Cleo teased, earning her a small splash from her friend who was treading in the water. “Tyler? Nick?”

Cleo sauntered in the room, like she owned the fucking place. Her friends following closely behind, surveying the lavish interior, before realizing they were also not the only ones here. All young, gorgeous faces’ smiles grew an infinitesimal amount a part from his soon to be step sisters. And though he didn’t think it was possible, his mood dropped significantly when she opened her mouth. She had the balls to insinuate such ludicrous things when she was the one that was crashing his weekend away? The prevailing reason for his weekend getaway was her very fucking existence, and now her presence was here. He was not having a bar of it. He fought all instincts to leap up from his seat, to assert his authority and not bother to hide his obvious anger, but a saner mind squashed his actions - for the moment.

“I was here first.” Beckett’s tone conveyed his anger, but it was quiet nonetheless. “Don’t you have better things to do than to follow me all the way here?” He had told his father he was going away with the guys; to the lakehouse, he had told him so days ago. Not that he needed to, he had a key to the house, he didn’t have to fucking ask. But it seemed his father had forgotten to relay that information to his wife to be when she loaned out a pair of keys to her spoiled little brat of a daughter. Or the alternative; William’s intentions were sinister, and he was keen to teach his son a lesson in sharing because apparently taking the TV off the two of them hadn’t been punishment enough. Either situation was unacceptable, and it was another thing to add to the list of shit he needed to talk to his father about. Which he still hadn’t the opportunity to do yet, despite implying the opposite to Cleo through text. “And this is my house so you can fuck off.” Beckett’s eyes left her form and drifted to the friends behind her to shoot them a lazy half-assed smile. “But your friends can stay.”

Cleo scoffed at Beckett’s hypocrisy, making sure everyone in the room could hear how barbaric she found him to be. The fact that he was trying to use the exact same argument she had only days prior when they were fighting over the theater room was laughable. If it wasn’t going to fly for her then, she sure as shit wasn’t going to let it fly for him now. “I had no clue you were coming up here, you asshat. If I did, trust me, we would not be having this conversation right now.” Charlotte was definitely going to get an earful from her daughter some time in the near future and Cleo swore if she found out her mom did this intentionally in order to force her and Beckett together, things were going to get ugly real quick. Even if it hadn’t been her idea and came directly from William, it was still inexcusable because as far as Cleo was concerned, her mother was no longer on her side. Instead, she was choosing to side with her fiancee. How fucking cute. When Beckett commented that her friends could stay, looking over her shoulder to smile at them, Cleo scowled. She even heard one of them giggle at the flirtatiousness of his remark. Whipping her head back to glare at them, the brunette mumbled a warning. “Don’t even think about it.”

Stepping forward now, as if she were challenging him, Cleo looked Beckett straight in the eye. “I don’t take orders from anyone. Especially not from a nobody like you.” Looking him up and down, the female knew her words could hardly be taken as the truth, but Cleo grasped at any straw she had if it meant throwing an insult his way. “My friends and I are staying. And if you try to forcibly remove me, since apparently that’s something you feel you’re entitled to do, just know that I will hit you with a lawsuit so fast it will make your head spin.” She spoke very matter-of-factly, one of the mannerisms she had practiced to ensure she would be well-suited in a court of law after she graduated. “We have the keys. We have just as much of a right to be here as you do. So you and your fragile male ego can get over it.” Beaming proudly as her friends behind her silently cheered on Cleo’s self-proclaimed victory, she then started to dismiss them one by one, securing the fact that they weren’t going anywhere. “Tessa, go plug your phone in and play something to replace this sorry ass excuse for music. Darcy, get us some drinks from the fridge and meet us out on the balcony. And Ivy… just go amuse yourself elsewhere.“ With a wave of her hand, the girls dispersed, obeying Cleo’s orders without any question. That’s when she liked them the best. “Sorry you’re not getting your way.” Cleo feigned a pout, pretending to feel some sympathy for the man standing in front of her -- she didn’t. “Besides, I think your friends would prefer it if I was here...” Then she nodded in the general direction of where Tyler was and lowered her voice so only Beckett could hear. “Especially that one.” Smirking, Cleo then called out to the other male. “Isn’t that right, Tyler?” Following her words with a flirty wave. 

It was one of those rare moments since the summer had started where Beckett was content. Beyond ecstatic actually. Cleo was all the way in the back of his mind, it was easy to push the image of her naked form to the back of his psyche when he was busy with Tyler, Gabe, and Nick. And even easier when they were at the lakehouse. He had decided it was time to get out of the house, the state even. Because Cleo had been doing nothing but driving him to the end of his wits. And when he jumped out of the range rover with the guys, whatever heavy weight burdening his shoulders was immediately lifted. Rays of sunshine sparkled off the water of the lake, and the tall, bright green pines swayed softly in the breeze. Holy fuck he loved this place. He spied the boat on the docks by the shoreline, and the jet-skis next to it. It took them a matter of minutes to unload all their luggage, pick rooms and get changed to head off on the boat.

Beckett was sitting in the main sitting room with Gabe and Nick, waiting on Tyler to get his shit together. They would head out on the speedboat, for some brews and buds before coming back for more hard alcohol. He was about to yell out for his friend to hurry the fuck up when a voice pulled him from his reverie. A soft, feminine voice that was vaguely familiar, and far away. His brows furrowed, and his stomach dropped at the possibility before the front doors were flung open.

After Cleo and Beckett’s latest showdown in the theater room, Charlotte was forced to have a conversation with her daughter that consisted of a lot of gentle lecturing on manners and etiquette. Even though they weren’t guests in the King manor so to speak, Charlotte knew how Cleo had a tendency to step on toes wherever she went and insisted that her daughter be more cautious when doing so in order for this prolonged transition towards becoming a blended family to go smoother in the long run. Deciding it was best for her to get out of the manor for a bit, the older Sutherland woman suggested she take a mini vacation with some of her friends up to the King’s lake house and use that time to clear her head. Never turning down the opportunity to get drunk at what would surely be a residence equally as lavish as the manor, Cleo took her mother up on the offer, inviting her usual posse of friends — Ivy, Tessa, and Darcy. After packing up the Rover with enough clothes and liquor to last the girls a month at minimum, Cleo sent one of the drivers ahead of them and piled into her convertible with the three others. Bikini tops already on, ready to let the summer sun kiss their skin and the breeze run through their hair as they cruised along the highway. Fantasizing about all of the luxurious amenities the other King residence offered made their drive go quickly and before long, they were pulling up in front of the lake house, all of their dreams quickly becoming a reality. Anxiously hopping out of the car, Cleo piled all the girls together in front of the elaborate entrance, shouting giddily as she grabbed her phone. “Come on, I need to Instagram this shit!” 

The girls were all smiles, ready to turn this lake house into their own private party. Leaving the help to gather their things and bring them inside, Cleo led the way and flung the front door open, expecting a perfect, empty oasis for her and her friends. What she was met with however, was the complete opposite -- a buzzkill in human form. Beckett staring at her from across the common room, a look of annoyance already plastered on his face like he had been expecting her. Walking in further, Cleo surveyed the room, quickly coming to the realization that Beckett and his friends had the exact same idea as hers did. And of course, it had to be on the same fucking weekend. “Um... why did you follow us here, stalker?” 

Tessa Cunningham -- 23

Darcy Klein -- 20

The bell signified the end of the first round and the fighters took a small break in their respective corners, pulling his eyes away from the TV he was about to reply to Cleo when he was interrupted by a voice. A deeper voice than Cleo’s that unlike hers automatically assumed an air of authority. His father’s. He stilled in his movements, turning around slowly to see his father poised in the doorway, Charlotte next to him, clinging onto his form. Cleo was quick to reply, to assert her innocence in the eye of adversity that was William King. She was skillful in doing so, pouting her lip, a facade of a somber expression and gratuitous sigh, changing almost completely in front of their parents. This made aggravated Beckett. He was not above covering his own ass, and with her using such means to assure her victory and keep the theater room for herself, he decided to replicate her means. He briefly cast a glance around the room. Candles lit, blanket on the floor and snacks on the small table, this was not a surrounding that was usually associated with his TV habits and knew he couldn’t take the direction he first thought. Lying completely and trying to paint the picture he had been here all along, and that Cleo was in fact the one who was attempting to steal the remote.  So he persevered, and turned to look back at his Dad, a modicum of justification and innocence on his own face. Which wasn’t half as hard to fake because he truly believed that his actions were justified, maybe not the wrestling or the displays of dominance but she wasn’t watching anything more important than a live title fight. “The Conor McGregor title fight is on, it’ll be over in twenty minutes. She wasn’t even watching anything. Why does she get to take over the big TV just ‘cause she’s watching nothing of importance? Screaming when she won’t get her way, like a spoiled little-”

“Enough.” He was interrupted by William, a glare displaying his intolerance to deal with such a petty situation. And here Beckett had thought Charlotte had chilled him the fuck out. “If you two can’t play nice over something as insignificant as a television then you will not play at all.” His voice held a slightly menacing tone, like he couldn’t fathom why his minuscule amount of free time was being reduced to splitting up squabbling adults acting like children. “You two can watch TV in your rooms instead.”  

Mouth ajar as if she was truly taken aback by his words, Cleo’s head whipped around to look back at Beckett as he made his defense while throwing her under the bus in the process. She was mere seconds from preparing her own verbal retaliation to ensure that their parents were aware that she was the one being wronged here and not the other way around when William’s booming voice spoke over Beckett’s and the thoughts that circulated around in Cleo’s head. As charming as the man could be, there was still something remotely terrifying about him that made the brunette a little uneasy. Especially since Beckett, the self-proclaimed king of obstinacy, seemed to fall right into place whenever the older male made demands. Charlotte seemed unfazed by the whole thing and though William was being harsh with both of the children, she still gazed over at him with nothing but adoration in her eyes. “I think we were just about to sit down and watch that new Will Smith movie anyway right, honey?” Extending a freshly French manicured hand, as if they were suddenly tag teaming the children they raised, Charlotte offered to take the remote, knowing precisely where William was going with this whole debacle before it even needed to be said. Now both Beckett and Cleo were screwed, having to forfeit the room to their parents. What the actual fuck. Cleo’s nostrils flared in defiance, making eye contact with her mother, the older Sutherland woman gave her a look that said ‘C’mon Cleo, you know better’.

Deciding now was the best time to retreat, Cleo’s shoulders slouched as she pulled herself up from the couch and snatched her robe from where she had tossed it, casting a nasty glare Beckett’s way as she rounded the piece of furniture and stormed past their parents. Once she was out in the hall, Cleo slipped back into her robe and knotted it at the waist before slumping against the wall and waiting for Beckett to appear. There was no way she was going to fucking let him get away with having the last word. Especially not since he was the one who got them kicked out of the room — at least that’s what Cleo was going to convince herself of, anyway. Once his form emerged from the dimly lit theater room, Cleo was already quick on his heels with an insult falling from her glossy, pink lips. “Way to go, jackass. Now we both aren’t getting what we want. You couldn’t just let it go, could you?” 

Beckett: Okay Beckett: Sure Beckett: Lol.