Boys and Burlesque

by Ripley Proserpina

  I sighed. “Landry is going to Final Fling with Em. Westin is going with Leah Cartwell. I’m going with Josh. That’s how it is.”

  Cool fingers touched the back of my hand, dropping away only when I glanced at her. “Honey. You’ve been in love with those boys since kindergarten. And they care for you, too. But my girl, nothing can ever come of that. Not now. Not four years from now. Not ever. This world may be changing, but it’s not changing that much.”

  I didn’t reply. What could I say? You’re dead wrong. Everything is different away from here. She’d lived in Shawville all her life. It was all she knew, all she’d ever known.

  “I’m with Josh,” I said again before I pulled the car into the driveway, and she sighed.

  “I just hope you’re being careful, Elizabeth.”

  Six

  Westin

  The last thing I wanted to do was go back to church, but my father expected me to help put away the tables and fold and stack the chairs. I debated going inside. Hands on my hips, I studied the wooden doors with the simple white cross cutout and struggled to tamp the anxiety that built in my stomach every time I faced my father.

  I was eighteen fucking years old, and Dad had the power to make me sick to my stomach. Shaking my head, I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other and climb those steps. When I got inside, he was busy gathering hymnals. He was wholly unconcerned with my presence, and I realized how very certain he was of me and that I’d comply with his wishes. What did that say about me?

  Silently, I went to the first folding table set up in the space behind the pews and began to fold the chairs placed around it.

  “I thought Lan was helping you put Brant’s motorcycle in your truck.”

  I paused, holding a stack of chairs before I slid them into place. Shit. I felt like I was being led into a trap, so I did what I always did when my father did this—I shrugged.

  “Lifting your shoulders isn’t an answer, Westin Thomas.”

  “No, sir,” I answered, aware of the hostility in my tone. “We didn’t do that tonight. Changed our minds.”

  He snorted and shook his head. “You must think I was born yesterday. Miss Laura is checking her watch every three minutes… Half an hour to drive to the Dairy Queen. What is wrong with you?”

  Each word he spoke made me angrier. You’d think that a person who grew up in a church, reading bible stories about the understanding and compassion of Jesus would be less inclined to rage.

  But then, I grew up with the man who currently bored a hole into the back of my head.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, and then tacked on, “sir.”

  “Look at me when I talk to you, Westin. I’m your father and you will respect me.”

  Turning, I kept my gaze on the floor until I was certain I could meet his eyes and not glare. Hands fisted at my sides, I peered up at him. And waited.

  “You’re done with that girl. Do you understand me?”

  “She’s with Josh,” I scoffed. “Do you think I’d put a move on my best friend’s girl?” My girl. She was mine. I could look right at this man and lie to his face. It was easy now, because I knew what type of man my father was.

  He was a liar.

  He was an adulterer.

  He was a fraud.

  But I didn’t show him that I knew any of that. I put on my mask, the one I’d worn every day since I learned that it hurt more to tell the truth than it did to lie. A muscle jumped beneath my eye, a twitch I’d had ever since he’d backhanded me and caught my skin with his wedding band.

  “I’ve been preaching at you every Sunday.” My father started toward me, and I took a moment just to take him in. Looking at my father was like looking twenty-five years into the future. We had the same dark hair, though his had gone white at the temples. The same blue eyes. The same pale skin that flushed, broadcasting to the world when we were starting to lose control of our emotions. Right now, his neck was red, and it was creeping toward his cheeks.

  But I was younger than him. Stronger and faster, and he didn’t dare backhand me anymore. Not since I’d been able to keep my feet under me.

  “Every Sunday. Warning you about her. That girl has the face of an angel, but trust me, Westin, she’s going to lead you so far down the path of sin that you’ll never find your way out.”

  No one knew how to get a rise out of me faster than my father. Spinning on my heel, I strode toward the tables and began to lay them on their sides to fold the legs.

  “Betsy hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s been a good friend my whole life, Dad. She’s smart and kind and nothing at all like you think.”

  “I know what all she came from, son. And what’s bred in the bone comes out in the flesh.”

  “She’s not a horse.”

  “Look at me when I’m talking to you, boy!” Dad’s voice echoed through the church. I let out another breath, taking my time before I turned to face him.

  “You don’t disrespect me,” he said, coming toward me, finger already wagging. “I am your father and the spiritual leader of this community. And I’ll be damned if my son is seen running around town like a worthless piece of garbage with some whore.”

  The church disappeared and my vision tunneled. Blood rushed through my head, pounding in my ears and drowning out whatever else my father had to say.

  In two steps I was in his face, his collar curled in my fists. His mouth opened and his face went slack as I shook him. “Shut up!” I yelled. “You don’t fucking know her at all!” Releasing him, I stepped back. He stumbled but didn’t fall.

  “And that right there tells me everything I need to know.” He smiled, and it was like looking into the face of the devil himself.

  Done with his bullshit, I hurried out of the church, not glancing over my shoulder once.

  My heart was pounding, and I rubbed my hand over it, noting as I did that it shook.

  Dad didn’t know anything. He thought I didn’t see how he watched Bets. That I didn’t see the way his gaze traveled down her body, and the way he hated himself when it did.

  I loved that woman, and I had to stand by and just fucking take it. Not say a word.

  I couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t let my father insult the person I loved anymore. I couldn’t watch him try to keep her under his heel the way he did with my mother and his mistresses.

  Betsy was mine. Mine to protect. Mine to shield. And it tore me up inside to watch her face when I stepped out with Leah. These secrets were eating me alive and keeping me from loving her the way she deserved to be loved.

  I wrenched open the door on my truck, climbed inside, and slammed it shut. “Shit!” I yelled. I punched the steering wheel. Once. Twice. Three times. The pain didn’t stop me. It couldn’t touch the pain in my chest.

  I’d made love to her tonight and hadn’t even told her I loved her. Betsy hid nothing. She wore her emotions on her sleeve and not only that, she filled my ears with words that I’d been desperate to hear my whole life.

  I love you.

  She said it so easily, and what had I done? I drilled into her and shut my eyes because it was all too much.

  I didn’t deserve her. Maybe my father was right. Maybe I was a fucking piece of garbage.

  Seven

  Betsy

  That night, I lay in bed and stared at my ceiling. The fan went around and around and so did my thoughts. My body ached wonderfully, and my lips felt swollen from Wes’s kisses.

  Being with Josh and Wes was life changing. I couldn’t pretend to be some innocent. I’d fallen in love with four boys, and we’d gotten up to some stuff.

  I giggled and then grabbed my pillow, covering my face with it. Some stuff.

  Yeah. Gram would call it sin, but it wasn’t that. It was love.

  The boys didn’t force me to do anything I didn’t want to do. But it felt like, since the day my hormones recognized that these were boys and I really really liked them, my body had been in overdrive. />
  I loved kissing them.

  I loved touching them. And I’d loved making love with them. I dropped my pillow and held my hand up. In the darkness, I could just make out the gleam of the silver. It wasn’t like I was having sex just because I could. I loved them, and it was the most natural thing in the world.

  Between his rants about sin, Pastor Morehouse talked about marriage and commitment. I was committed to Josh, Brant, Wes, and Landry. Sure, our love didn’t look like anyone else’s, and even in a world where, like Gram said, things were changing, our relationship would definitely be different. But I could take it.

  With the boys at my side, I could handle anything people said about me. Call me a slut. Call me a selfish whore. That was fine. As long as the boys knew me, and supported me and our relationship, I could brush all of that off.

  I wished we could do it sooner than later, honestly. I hated lying, though I understood the need for it.

  It wasn’t as if Landry could be seen at the country club having lunch with his wife and her three other husbands. That wasn’t done.

  And poor Wes. If his father thought sex outside of marriage was a sin, what would he say about me having sex with both his son, and his son’s best friend? And while I hadn’t yet been with Brant and Lan the same way, I would. My body tingled at the thought of them loving me.

  I let out a sigh and stuffed another pillow under my head. These were the thoughts that kept me up at night. I loved my grandmother. She’d taken me in, given me a home, food, and clean clothes, and loved me as best she could when my parents couldn’t.

  Or wouldn’t. The less said about them the better.

  The point was, I didn’t want to hurt the woman who had raised me after already bringing up four kids. Right now, Laura Bartlett could hold her head up proudly as she walked down Main Street.

  Giving up on sleep, I kicked off my blankets and went to the window seat. Crickets and cicadas were the soundtrack to summer, and when I slid the window up, their call filled up my room.

  And reminded me that it was almost time to leave.

  We were getting there.

  I just had to be patient.

  I let my head rest against the wall and tucked my knees under my chin. The sky was nearly cloudless, and in this part of the country, there were no streetlights to dim the moon’s glow. Sure, Shawville could be narrow-minded and stifling, but no one could say it wasn’t beautiful.

  Peaceful.

  There was a sudden ping against my window, and I leaned forward, squinting down at the ground. Landry emerged from the night like the Cheshire cat, all blinding white smile. I started to laugh and quickly clapped my hand over my mouth. Gram might be asleep, but then again, she might not, and Lan’s smile promised all sorts of fun.

  I held up one finger. Give me a minute, and he nodded.

  Quickly I shimmied my jeans over my hips, slid my feet into a pair of sneakers, and cracked open the window.

  Climbing through was tighter than it used to be, but I still managed it.

  “Drop,” Landry whisper-yelled from beneath me.

  I hadn’t done this in a long time, but I had muscle memory. Twisting so I was facing the house, shoes squeaking against the wood, I got into position.

  “Go!”

  I let myself hang and then dropped. Lan’s hands were hard on my hips, but I landed lightly enough and managed not to twist or tweak anything.

  As soon as I stood, Lan spun me around and lifted me into his arms. His lips caught mine, breath bursting out of his chest. My breath was just as harsh, but not from physical exertion, from excitement.

  I moaned when his tongue thrust into my mouth, relieved and desperate for more. We tasted each other like we hadn’t kissed in days. His hands clutched at my clothes, gripping handfuls of my shirt and tugging them away so he could feel my skin.

  He carried me as I kissed him, utterly confident, his stride full of power and purpose. I kissed his neck, tasted the saltiness of his sweat, and he groaned deep in his throat. The leaves crinkled noisily at his feet, and I smiled against his lips. “The castle?”

  “Don’t ruin the surprise.” But he chuckled all the same.

  Out back of my house, away from the road and the neighbors, my uncles had built a fort. By the time the boys and I found it, nature had pretty much wrecked it, but we’d replaced some boards and made ourselves what we called a castle. Four walls. A wooden floor built a few feet off the ground. Back when we were ten we’d had to duck inside.

  “Have you been out here?” I asked, twisting and squinting. “It’s gotta be a mess.”

  Landry didn’t answer, but his fingers tightened on the back of my thighs. “I think you’ll be surprised,” he said. “It’s not so bad.”

  A moment later, I made out a dim yellow light. “Is that it?”

  Someone had set a flashlight at the door and covered the opening to the inside with a piece of fabric. It hadn’t looked like this the last time I’d seen it.

  Lan placed me carefully on the ground. “What do you think?”

  I stepped closer and opened the curtain, peering around it. It was still rough inside, but he’d swept it out. An air mattress took up the entirety of the floor, and a mosquito net hung from the low ceiling.

  “Lan.” I giggled. “I love it.”

  I glanced over my shoulder toward him and froze. His smile was gone, and he stared at me with an intensity that made my heart pound.

  “Will you take me inside?” I asked. This was happening really quickly. First Josh, then Wes. I had a flash of wondering if they’d talked about this among them, but I couldn’t pretend our relationship up to now had been innocent hand holding and closed mouth kisses.

  I’d knelt at Landry’s feet and taken him in my mouth. He’d thrust his fingers deep inside me until I shattered in his arms, then kept his eyes on mine and licked them clean.

  Bending at the waist, Lan lifted me into his arms and deposited me on the bed. There was no room to take a step inside, so all he really did was lift me over the threshold.

  I scooted back as he climbed in after me. “I wanted to bring you to a nice hotel, lay you down on satin sheets.”

  “I like this more,” I said, because I did. Taking this step in our childhood refuge was significant. And perfect.

  “You deserve more.”

  I laughed and tugged my shirt over my head. Landry’s gaze went to my chest. I hadn’t put on a bra so my heavy breasts were exposed.

  “Damn.” He shook his head. “Every time I see you, I have to pinch myself.” He tugged his shirt over his head and wrapped a hand around my neck, pulling me closer.

  Skin-to-skin, some of our desperation ebbed, leaving only achy need. He kissed me, but slower now, easing me backward until the cool sheets touched my back. Leaning over me, he used one elbow to hold himself up, and reached between us with his free hand. I followed him, unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them down his hips until his erection sprung free and I could fist him.

  I knew how Lan liked to be touched. He loved it when I held him tight and moved up and down his length. I felt him fumbling for something and tore my mouth from his to see him removing a condom from his wallet.

  The sight of it had me freezing and he must have seen the question in my eyes. “When I was fourteen, my father flung a box of condoms on my bed and told me he wasn’t raising any bastards. He told me to be smart and wrap it up.”

  “But—” But we’d never been intimate before. Why would he need condoms?

  “Bets…” He groaned and kissed me as he started to shake his head. “Bets, I’ve been waiting a long time to use this. I’ve kept it, hoping I’d have the chance to be with you. But seeing you tonight.” He eased back onto his knees and gripped his cock. He gave it a strong hard stroke, and I couldn’t look away from him. “Your hair was all curled from the heat and your face flushed from dance. I touched your thighs, and I knew if I got my fingers between your legs, you’d be wet. Do you know how much I wanted to bury my face
between your legs when I lifted you into Westin’s truck?”

  His words were setting me on fire. I rocked toward him, lifting my hips, silently begging him to quench the need he was building in me.

  He rolled the condom on and leaning forward, tugged my jeans and underwear down my legs.

  Eyes on mine, he spread my legs, and only when I was open like the pages of a book, did he look at me.

  It was light in the fort, thanks to the flashlight, and I began to close my legs, self-conscious, but he stopped me. His dick was rock hard, pointing straight toward me, so I reached for him. “Landry.”

  He crawled over me, muscles flexing and clenching like a jungle cat stalking its prey. His tip touched my entrance, and he shut his eyes tight. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, and I couldn’t wait anymore. I thrust my hips toward him so he slid inside me.

  He gasped and let his head fall forward. The feeling of him inside me… I had no words. Vision blurring, I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face against him so he wouldn’t see the tears that had sprung to my eyes.

  “Bets. Bets. I need you so much. I love you.” He moaned the words, and I wasn’t certain I’d even heard him right, or if I’d conjured them from the way our bodies moved together.

  He groaned and pumped inside me harder and faster. Our skin slapped and the mattress squeaked where it rubbed against the sides of the fort.

  I had Lan in my arms. Nothing else mattered except him and me, and this coming together that had always always been meant to happen.

  I tensed under him, arching my head back as I climaxed. Without meaning to, I scraped my fingernails down Landry’s back. It switched something inside him, and he swelled inside me, crying out before he tensed and jerked and groaned.

  We lay there for a long time. Eventually, Landry softened inside me and slid out. “Give me a sec,” he said, gesturing downward.

  I released him and watched him clean up and toss the condom out the door. Then he opened his arms and I went back.