by Amy Sumida
“Hello, Mr. Carter. Lovely to meet you. Is Arlia ready?” Shayne holds his hand out to shake the guy’s hand, but Arlia’s father doesn’t lift his own hand in greeting. Shayne frowns, dropping his hand, but doesn’t say anything to Mr Carter about being rude. I can tell by his face he wants to, though.
Mr. Carter studies the three of us and scowls. “So, you’re the three boys who want to take my Arlia out on a date. I have to say, I’m concerned about what three boys like yourselves would want with my daughter.” He wheels himself towards us and we step back, allowing him extra room. He might be in a wheelchair, but I can tell the other two are like me. Intimidated.
“You have a lovely daughter, sir. We—”
Morgan softly smiles, but glowers when Mr. Carter cuts him off. “Oh, I know I do. Which is why I’m concerned that you three boys are taking her out. There’s three of you and only one of her.”
Unease runs up my spine. If he thinks we’re horrible cretins now, what will he think when he finds out all three of us want to date his daughter? I get the impression him and Arlia are close, so there’s no doubt that as soon as she arrives home, she’ll phone her father to talk things through.
I break out of my thoughts when he starts making demands. “I want all of your names, your address, your phone numbers, and your parents’ addresses.”
“Why our parents?” Shayne asks, uneasy as he glances from me to Arlia’s father.
“Because if I’ve got your momma’s address, boy, it means you’ll be less likely to deliver my daughter back harmed or not at all. I might be in a wheelchair, but if anything happens to her, I’ll soon find a miracle cure, so I’ll be able to kick all your asses.”
Before we have a chance to give an answer, we catch sight of Arlia coming down her hallway. Her body is wrapped like a glove in black combat trousers, an army green t-shirt, and Doc martins clad her feet. Oh hell. She’s the epitome of every teenage boy’s wet dream in the army get up. Her hair, tied back on top of her head, gives us a pleasant view of her neck. Her face brightens when she spots us at the door, but quickly transforms into a frown when she reaches her father’s side and sees the scowl on his face.
Sighing, she places her hand on the back of the wheelchair, resting her weight there, and grumbles, “Please tell me you didn’t give them a lecture.”
Guilt crosses Mr. Carter’s face, but it doesn’t last longer than a few seconds before he smirks. “Of course I did, baby. It’s what fathers of daughters do. They lecture, and threaten, and make sure the boys know what boundaries are in place.”
“Oh god, Dad, please tell me you didn’t give them that lecture,” Arlia whines, and all three of us grin at her discomfort. There’s nothing quite like witnessing someone get embarrassed by their parents.
An evil smirk crosses Mr. Carter’s face and I instantly recognise it as the expression every parent gets when they’re about to say something really humiliating. Whatever he’s going say will make Arlia feel like she wants the world to swallow her. “Well, I didn’t give them that lecture, but now that you mention it, perhaps I should. I’m too young to be a grandfather.”
Arlia’s face turns bright red, and I smile at how pretty she looks with rosy cheeks, not that she wasn’t pretty before. But a flush to her face makes her eyes sparkle more. I can’t help enjoying the reaction her body has, even if the cause comes from being mortified by her father.
She straightens her body up, kicks the wheel of his chair, and scowls. “Right, that’s enough. We’re heading out. I’ll leave you here to finish up. I love you. I’ll phone you later, and pull the door shut behind you when you’re ready to leave.” She leans down and offers a peck to her father’s cheek, likely softening the sting of her words.
She grabs a bag from inside the hallway then whistles as she walks down the steps. The three of us stand there and gawk at her father in, I don’t know, awkwardness, wondering what the hell just happened.
“Nice to meet you,” I hurriedly say to her dad to break the silence between the four of us.
Formalities over, I turn to follow Arlia. She can’t skip off without us, I’ve got the keys after all, but it gives me a good excuse to get the fuck out of dodge before her dad asks anymore on the spot, awkward as shit, questions.
Bucking it down the steps, I meet Arlia at the bottom. Behind me, I overhear Shayne and Morgan say their own hasty goodbyes to her father before they barrel down the steps after me. The expression on their faces is priceless. They’re terrified of Arlia’s dad. I’d find it amusing if I wasn’t also one of the dudes that wants to date his daughter. I’ve no clue how he’ll react to the news of the three of us wanting to be with her.
Cheeks still tinted pink, Arlia groans and drops her eyes to the path. “I’m sorry, guys. That must’ve been really embarrassing for you. He can be a bit—”
“Overprotective, that’s all he is. “Shayne pulls her into his side. I peer back at the house. Arlia’s father still sits at the front door. My attention turns back to Shayne as he soothes over her mortification. “It wasn’t embarrassing for us. I’m glad you have parents who want to do right by you.”
Her body slouches farther into Shayne, and she sighs. “He’s great, but being an only child sure sucks sometimes.”
It’s not until we all buckle into Black Betty and I navigate our way to paintballing that I realise I didn’t become jealous when she leant into Shayne. I know I need to take baby steps and get over my shit, but I’m glad I can finally get my head in the game and not be constantly jealous of my friends. My time with Arlia will come, too. I can deal with the fact she might go to my friends for comfort, instead of only me.
I pull into the gravel carpark and take in the familiar, small, metal building. Camouflage paint covers the exterior, and a net type canopy hangs over the front of the door. Trees surround the building on three sides. When I turn my beaut off, I hear people laughing and shouting. My adrenaline kicks in, and I itch to get out the car so I can shoot something. I love coming here; it’s a way to bond with the guys, and now it’s a way to bond with Arlia. It’ll be a good way to see how truly well she fits into our group.
We walk through the main door and Shayne gives the guy at the counter our details. While he does that, Morgan and I distract Arlia so Shayne can talk to the guy without her there. He needs to pay for Arlia to make it look like we really did have someone else cancel. Fingers crossed she doesn’t catch Shayne passing any money over.
A few minutes pass before the guy signals to a door on the left side of the counter. He hands over tags on a strap for us to wear that will allow us access to the ‘cool stuff.’ Shayne passes the tags out, and we put them on before following him through the door.
We’ve been here plenty of times before, so we’re not in awe at everything around us. Instead, I watch as Arlia takes in her surroundings. Her wide eyes look huge in her face, and I smirk. I didn’t doubt for a minute she would be into this sort of stuff. While her work clothes are feminine, and she clearly takes care of herself, I can tell she’s not scared of a little dirt and muck.
The perfect girl for us.
One of the workers comes over to our group, and I instantly recognise the expression on his face when his eyes land on Arlia: Lust. Join the fuckin’ club, buddy. Shayne and Morgan glance at me; I give them a slight nod to let them know I spotted it, too. We all move in unison and flank Arlia. Morgan casually throws his arm over her shoulder and bends down to whisper into her ear. From where I stand, it looks like he’s placing a kiss on her neck. I watch the guy from the corner of my eye. His shoulders droop. Crisis averted.
I reach out to shake the guy’s hand with a polite, “Hey.”
He releases me quickly and pushes his hands into his combat trousers, offering the other guys a head nod. “Hey, guys and beautiful lady. If you’ll follow me, I’ll get you set up with your gear. I’ll grab a smaller chest plate for the lady so she doesn’t get injured.”
His eyes blatantly travel down to get an
eye full of Arlia’s chest, causing Shayne to step towards him. I grab my friend’s forearm to stop him from punching the dude.
Morgan keeps Arlia close to him while Shayne and I walk in front of them, making sure to keep distance between this douche-canoe and Arlia. It’s a shame he’s not out on the field. I’d love to fire a round of paintballs into his ass for staring at her like a piece of meat. Maybe, when he hands out the gear, a gun might accidently shoot him while we suit up. I chuckle to myself, and immediately hear a cough behind me. When I glance over my shoulder, Morgan smirks and shakes his head. Busted. Fucker knows me too well sometimes.
Shayne nudges my shoulder to grab my attention. “Safety off, I’ll push you, you shoot him.”
“Guys!” Morgan voice commands from behind us, but humour laces his voice.
Nice try, fucker. Shit’s about to go down. Serves him right for gawking at my—our—girl.
~
As we run around the woods, I can’t keep the smile off my face.
Arlia’s clearly enjoying her time out on the field, and judging by the orange paint on Morgan’s chest, she’s also a crack shot.
Makes me wonder where she learnt her shooting skills.
When we take a break, she confirms my suspicions. She used to do target practice with her dad. She’s so sneaky. Serves us right for underestimating her, though.
For the second half of our session, the guys and I decide not to go easy on her.
Morgan pops her one in the ass, and I manage to tag her leg. Although, we made sure Shayne came worse off than her.
The huge bell rings to signal the end of the two-hour session.
A fair amount of blue paint covers Arlia and Shayne, however, judging by the paint on Morgan and me, we lost. There’s not a single part of our clothes not spattered with orange paint. But it was fun. Tomorrow won’t be so good, though, once the bruises start to appear. I hope we didn’t hurt Arlia too much. She’s so tiny, and I don’t know how I’ll react if she’s all bruised up, especially after the bruise on her face has almost healed.
Maybe, we should come up with a different game next time. Something less violent.
Chapter Twelve
Pizza & Orgasms
I hand in our gear, sniggering as I watch the guy from earlier walk towards us with a limp. I’m not gonna lie, I don’t feel the least bit guilty we shot him. Although, judging by where the blue paint marks his trousers, my guess is his balls are likely going to be the same colour as the paint for the next two weeks.
Morgan elbows me to stop me from laughing and quietly mumbles, “Did the two of you really need to hit him in the balls?”
I undo the straps to the chest piece and answer without much thought, “Well, no. But that’s what he gets for using them while thinking about our girl.”
My words register too late, and I glance up in shock at Morgan. The fucker smirks at me. Oh shit!
Morgan’s smile grows until his face runs the risk of splitting open. “You really mean that, don’t you? Our girl? I’ve been so worried you were going to back out of it, or something was stopping you from wanting to go through with this.”
I check around for Arlia, only allowing a sigh when I spot her sitting with Shayne a little farther down the wooden bench while they take their gear off. I don’t really know when I started saying ‘our girl’ in my mind. I guess I’m beginning to get used to the idea of sharing her with my friends. I still worry I might screw it up, but I’m more open to the idea. Tonight, we’ll find out, though, whether Arlia will run away screaming at the idea. I don’t know how we’re going to word it in such a way that it doesn’t come out like we plan to treat her like some sort of whore, because that’s not what we’re trying to do.
Huffing, I admit, “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s growing on me, and jealousy was stopping me. I still don’t know if it will get in the way of things…”
Morgan squeezes my shoulder affectionately. He keeps his voice low, mindful of everyone around us. “We’ll work it out. You’re not the only one who will get jealous, both Shayne and me likely will, too. There’s been a couple of times I’ve bit my tongue, Shayne has as well. But I think that’s more to do with the dickheads around here eyeing her up than anything to do with the three of us. Just talk to us if something bothers you, please.”
I soak up the reassurance he offers and know the three of us will come out the other side. They have my back, and I have theirs. Poor Arlia doesn’t stand a chance against our combined charms.
“Are we ready to head out, guys? Arlia’s hungry, judging by the sounds the monster in her stomach is making.” Shayne laughs as Arlia gently elbows him.
“So, pizza and a movie at our place, then?” I watch Arlia for a reaction. We already pre-planned this, but I want to give Arlia an option.
“Sounds good. I don’t have work tomorrow, so I don’t need to get back too early.” She looks comfy nestled under Shayne’s arm.
On the way back to the carpark, my mood darkens when a group of lads starts ribbing each other and making crude gestures towards Arlia. Shayne and Morgan step up beside her.
My control slips when I overhear one of them call over to her. “Hey, gorgeous! Why don’t you join our group? We’ve got twice as many cocks for you to bounce on!”
I take a step in their direction, but stop short when a hand touches my forearm. Looking down, I realise Arlia’s dainty hand gently holds me back. She offers me a kind smile, then turns her attention to the catcalling guys. I’m left gobsmacked when she replies, “They have the best cocks in town. I’m not sure you could manage the amount of orgasms I get from them with your tiny dicks. Thanks for the offer, but I like to feel my men sliding home.” Without missing a beat, she pats my arm and grumbles, “Can we go now? My stomach feels like my throat’s been cut.”
Shayne and Morgan burst out laughing, and I smile in pride at her, throw my arm around her shoulders, and direct her to the car. “You can pick what pizza we get tonight, and have the extra slice. You’ve just made my whole week.”
She gasps dramatically, “A whole slice? My, aren’t you the gentleman.”
Laughing, I pull her along. “Come-on, Tiger, let’s go home.”
Home? Not sure where it comes from, but damn it feels good saying it. Maybe, if things go right, we can get her out of that shithole and move her in with us. Slow down! We don’t even know if this is what she wants yet, and already I’m moving her in.
We pile into Black Betty after the guys convince me the paint on their clothes is dry. I should’ve been more prepared when we left and had them bring a change of clothes, or better yet, have one of the others drive their car. They’re not as fussy about getting theirs rides dirty. Plus, paintball paint really doesn’t do well with black leather, especially blue and orange paint.
Grumbling, I climb into the car and head for home, hoping the journey goes by quickly and the paint doesn’t somehow transfer to the seats.
~
Pulling up outside the house, I manage to find a parking space without any hassle. Shayne immediately jumps out of the back and grabs Arlia’s bag from the boot before she has a chance to unbuckle her seatbelt.
She grumbles under her breath about being able to do it for herself, and I laugh, which makes her scowl at me.
I hold my hands up in surrender and explain. “It’s our thing. Shayne’s mum brought us up to be proper gentleman. Hold doors open, sit once the lady sits, hold out her chair. That type of shit. She also tried to get us to curb our language in front of ladies, but, as you can tell, she didn’t succeed there. If it gets to be too much, then tell us and we’ll try to back off. I know some ladies have their independence and like to do stuff for themselves.”
Arlia laughs. “You’re cute when you ramble, but I get it. It’s something that’s been ingrained in you, so it’s automatic. I’ll try to remember that and not be such a brat.”
Embarrassed, I struggle for a topic change because if we discuss this anymore, my cheeks will be
flaming. Even with a tan, I can never get away with hiding my blushes. Plus, I don’t know how I feel about her saying I’m cute. Is cute something she’d even want to date?
The car seems to close in on me and the blush gets increasingly hotter. Desperate, I abandon the conversation and jump out of the car to escape. I step around the front to open Arlia’s door, but she beats me to it.
Smirking, she rounds the front until she stands in front of me, the top of her head barely coming up to my chin. I stare down, spotting the amusement that dances in her eyes. I’m busted.
She finally laughs. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, but I’m not going to lie… the blush suits you.”
My face flames from her words, so I do the only thing I can think of. I bend and grab the backs of her thighs, chucking her over my shoulder like a bag of spuds. She immediately squeals from my sudden movement, her little fists pounding onto my back. Even though she has a good swing on her, I laugh and joke as I make my way up the steps. “Jeez, is that a gnat that keeps trying to bite me? It’s not doing a good job.”
“Benji, whatever your last name is, put my ass down.” Her demand falls flat when she laughs.
“No way! I like this view way too much to be putting you down,” I joke, and her fists bang more vigorously against my back. Feeling daring, I give her ass a light tap. “You keep smacking my back like that, and I might feel the need to do the same to your ass.”
Arlia stops hitting me when my words register. A weird sensation goes through my body when her hands go against my spine to push herself upright.
“You wouldn’t dare!” Her voice sounds outraged and strained.
I don’t have a chance to answer because Morgan speaks up, “Wouldn’t dare what?”