by Teagan Kade
It’s been too long since I’ve gotten laid. It’s not for lack of options, but it’s a small town and I don’t need some chick going psycho on me, causing drama because she thinks I ought to be good for more than a one-nighter. There’s enough gossip floating around about me as is. I don’t want to feed the beast.
I round the corner pretending to look for something and spot her.
Definitely not a local.
There’s no way I’d have missed her in the six months I’ve been back, even as much as I’ve avoided the public. Nope, not a fucking chance that someone could look that good without every dick in a five-mile radius being on alert.
She’s a little taller than average and all I can see is legs—long, tanned, toned legs that are the very definition of ‘stairway to heaven.’ She’s got on a pair of little red hiking shorts that aren’t doing much to cover the tight, sweet curve of her ass.
Her hiking boots look like they came straight out of the box—dead giveaway. My sexy little singer is a tourist.
Perfect.
She’s still singing when I come up behind her, her vanilla perfume filling my airspace. “Sorry, do you mind if I grab those jugs?”
She whirls around, her honey-caramel hair flipping over her bare shoulder. “Excuse me?”
If it’s possible, the front of her is even sexier than the backside. Two heavily-lashed doe eyes are staring back at me with slight alarm.
“I meant the sweet tea by your feet,” I answer smoothly.
No, I didn’t.
Her shirt is thin and loose, but it’s not working hard enough to cover the tempting stretch of cleavage on full view.
“Oh… I… Oh, sure, go ahead,” she says, giving me a once-over. Those big eyes narrow and her expression shifts from wary to something else. She swallows, and I know it’s in the bag. That sexy voice of hers is going to be fucking ragged from screaming my name by the end of the day.
I smile and step towards her, a bit too close probably, but she doesn’t step back. I sink down to my feet and grab a container of tea I have no intention of drinking. As I stand back up, I take my time, making no attempt to hide my appreciation for those glorious legs of hers.
“So, you’re new. Did you just get into town?” I ask as I straighten.
She hesitates. “In a way… How’d you know?”
“You’re not from around here. I grew up in Tamanass. There isn’t a chance in hell we wouldn’t have already hooked up if you were.”
She laughs. “You’re not very subtle, are you?”
“No, but that’s okay, because you don’t want that anyway,” I say, smiling at her. It’s been a while since I’ve played this game. It feels fucking good to be back.
She throws me a sarcastic look. “Mr. Confident. Well then, please enlighten me. What do I want?”
I lean in close, bringing my mouth close to her ear. Her hair tickles my face as I whisper, “You want an adventure, baby. I can tell from those little shorts and boots you’re wearing you came out here looking to get a little wild, a little sweaty, and maybe… a little rough. You don’t want the nice guy who plays by the book and just asks for your number. No, you want a guy who’ll take you on a ride to all the rugged wild places you’ve dreamed of… someone who will make you come so hard you forget your own name… someone who makes your panties wet in the middle of a grocery store aisle.”
I pull back and raise an eyebrow, watching her. Color tints her cheeks and she swallows again, this time much, much harder. Her pink tongue darts out and wets that plump bottom lip. Shit, I can’t wait to taste her.
I wait a moment, letting the tension build before adding, “I’ve got a guide service. We do adventure tours through Hell’s Bitters. I’d be happy to give you one on the house.”
She smiles and looks around her, like she’s afraid someone is listening.
“I’m not sure that’s such a great idea… And I already had plans today,” she says, biting her lip. Her awkward hesitation is setting my blood on fire.
Good god, when was the last time I was this turned on?
“So cancel them. Trust me, all the best ideas are spontaneous,” I contend, putting an arm on the shelf behind her, leaning forwards to inhale her sweet scent.
She laughs and grins at me, her soft, rosy cheeks dimpling. She’s intoxicating, and I must have been really repressing my sex drive because, sweet hell, it’s about all I can do not to toss her over my shoulder and take off with her.
A cart comes crashing into me, bumping me against all those sweet curves. “Hey, freaks! Sorry, Dean, is Ava harassing you? It really is like old times now my dorky sister is here to complete the picture.” Deric’s voice registers like a tidal wave of ice water.
My sexy singing tourist is… Ava?
What. The. Holy. Fuck?
Deric is saying something, but all I can think about is Ava… the lanky, awkward preteen trying to tag along with us. It’s not possible… No, it’s not her. It can’t possibly be… but her face is flushed and she’s not meeting my eye... Oh god, those eyes. The recognition punches me in the gut.
“Dude? Did you hear anything I just said?” Deric shoves me lightly.
“Sorry… I’m just tired; didn’t sleep well,” I lie. He doesn’t seem to question it.
“Niiice… you take that chick home from the bar? The one with the fake tits?” he asks, nodding suggestively.
“That was you,” I remind him.
“Oh, right! Man, we need to get you laid. It’s got to be some kind of record for you by now,” Deric says, shaking his head in confusion.
Well, I was on my way to that very thing before you showed up and ruined it… but it’s fucking Ava. What is wrong with me?
“Hey, maybe Ava can set you up with someone.” Deric turns to his sister. “What do you think, Ava? It’s basically for charity at this point.”
“What the fuck, man?” I say in protest.
I may have chosen to abstain from the local talent because the pool hasn’t felt big enough to dip into, but it’s not like I need Deric to go drumming up pity dates for me…. Especially when it’s his sister I want to dip into.
Get that shit out of your head, boy. This is Ava. Clumsy, freckled, innocent little Ava. She was practically your sister too.
But she’s not… and your dick sure as hell knows it.
“Fine, nurse your blue balls if you want. Anyway, so what do you think?” Deric asks.
I’m lost again. The blood still hasn’t fully returned to my brain. “About what?”
He looks at me with concern. “Dude, what’s with you? I just told you—Ava is going to work part time at the Den for us, getting the admin stuff set up and building our website. She’s hard up for work and no one wants her.”
“Gee, you’re real tactful, huh Deric?” Ava spits back at him. She’s still not looking at me, but Deric has diverted my attention at this point. This business is all I’ve got right now.
“Beggars shan’t be choosers, dorkus. Anyway, say hello to our first employee,” Deric smiles.
“Wait… what?” I ask, trying to wrap my mind around everything. “Why are you telling me this just now? Shouldn’t I have been consulted beforehand?”
“Well, she just got into town last night and it makes sense. I was going to tell you last night at Gracie’s but, you know, there were blonde distractions. I mean, we’re all practically family. I knew you wouldn’t care. Besides, thanks to Dex’s little side-chick in the tourism office, we’re getting a lot more business. If we don’t set ourselves up for growth, we’ll push clients away. We’ve got the capital now. We can afford a part-time salary.”
He’s probably right. Dex has been a good fuckboy, serving as a booty call for a chick at the State Tourism Office who was able to get us in the Spring Tourism Brochure. Business has definitely been picking up since.
But that’s not the point. This isn’t Deric’s company. It’s ours. “Well, Deric, I didn’t know you were suddenly Lee Iacocca. That’s
fucking fabulous for you, but next time maybe you’ll remember you have partners. This is just… a bad idea.”
Ava looks up at me, finally. There is a spark in her eyes, but it’s not from the sexual tension. No, she’s offended. Good, I think. That’s probably safer ground.
Deric laughs. “Everything sounds like a bad idea when you’ve got a pine cone shoved that far up your ass, Dean. Do us all a favor and go find an easy lay to help dislodge it, hey? Everything’ll be cool. Don’t worry.”
I shake my head and want to argue, but I need to get out of here. I need to clear my head and get away from Deric’s baby sister before I have any more fantasies about her naked, wet, and panting for me.
It’s not just a bad idea.
It’s a fuck-all forest fire waiting to happen.
CHAPTER FOUR
AVA
Emerald green eyes, thighs so thick and hard it’s like pressing against granite, and all that jet-black hair in my hands as Dean explores me with his wandering mouth. Wetness laps my face and the smell… it reeks.
I open my eyes and find Rufus licking at my cheek.
Ugh! Dog slobber.
I groan. “Alright, dog, we need to lay out some boundaries,” I say, shielding my face and sitting up, annoyed the dream left off without a grand finale.
It’s my first day of work and even though my canine alarm clock is an hour early kick-starting my morning, I make the most of it and send out a few resumes. I have no desire to be stuck in some shed in the woods, let alone with my preteen crush who wants nothing to do with me.
I grimace thinking about Dean’s face when he discovered I was the ass he was chasing. Not that he was going to get anywhere. Okay, fine, in all honesty, it might have been a close call. Good god, the way he smelled when he leaned in close, the way his eyes darkened as he gave my body a closer inspection than I give my taxes…
My body is unusually achy and sensitive all of a sudden, so I jump in the shower for relief and hit my morning playlist, Vampire Weekend’s plucky guitar riffs filling the steamy room.
Twenty minutes later I’m filling my teal travel mug with fresh coffee and watching the driveway, waiting to catch the walk of shame.
Mom comes in, robe and pajamas still on. “No sign of your brother yet?”
“No,” I grumble. “He’s the one who suggested carpooling, but I guess I’ll just have to head out there alone.” I was kind of counting on him, but, unfortunately, my slut brother disappoints. “I’m sure he’s holed up in some temporary love nest with god only knows who… I mean is there anyone left in this town he hasn’t nailed?” I wonder aloud before I remember I’m talking to my mom.
“Well, you know your brother,” Mom says casually, as if we aren’t discussing her son’s overly-active sex life. “He’ll figure it out eventually, I’m sure. In the meantime, it’s any port in a storm…”
“Mom!”
“What? You’re an adult now. I think we can speak more frankly. God knows, your brother doesn’t seem to have any trouble with it.”
“Uh… I guess.”
“Good. You know, I’m not so uptight as you and Deric seem to think. I was young once too… and god did your father have an appetite!”
Oh, god, no…
“But I wasn’t exactly a square either… Your father wasn’t the first t—”
“Hard pass on memory lane, Mom. Sorry, but some mental pictures don’t fade,” I say quickly.
She laughs but changes the subject, thankfully. “So, are you excited?”
“About having my big brother lord over me? Or about working with his grumpy friend who would rather see me buried in the woods than as his employee?” I ask, before explaining Dean’s unhappy reaction, leaving out the preceding moments of thick sexual tension.
“Oh, I’m sure it’ll pass. Dean’s a good boy… Well, maybe not a good boy,” she corrects herself, “but he has a good heart.”
“Yeah… Well, we’ll see. He might be right about this being a bad idea.”
She’s drinking her coffee now and looking over the paper. “Here, look at this. They’re holding auditions for The Mountain Flowers!” she says, holding up the classifieds.
I skim the ad for the local bluegrass/folk group. “No way! Are you crazy? I’d have to sing in public. No can do, remember?”
She shakes her head. “I really thought you’d come out of that shell, living in the city.”
“It’s not a shell, Mom. It’s a sense of self preservation, thank you very much. Anyway, I’ll try and make this work with the guys, try and stay out of the way until I find something decent. I don’t want to be a burden on you.”
She grabs my hand. “Oh, honey, just stop right there. You don’t know how happy it makes me to have you home again. And if it’s privacy you need… like I told Deric, I don’t care if you bring people home. You can use the spare room above the garage, even. Just text me a code word so I don’t worry. Deric does, see?” She holds up her phone, but I don’t even look I’m cringing too hard.
Ick factor is back, and I need out of here—pronto. Deric can drive his own ass to work.
“Huh, okay, well I don’t want to be late for my first day!” I say quickly and grab my keys. The woods might spook me, but this conversation is going to make me lose what little I ate for breakfast. Besides, I’ve never been late for a day of work in my life and I’m not starting now. I hug mom and head out.
The sky is still mostly dark and the road ahead of me stretches into the yawning blackness of the forest, sending shivers down my spine.
Damn you, Deric.
This is exactly what I don’t need more of in my life. My brother is a done deal, no changing that, but Dean is his best friend and of the same mold. Dean was probably out whoring with him too, looking for a real tourist to use his lines on.
The thought brings a scowl to my face, but I know I have no right being disappointed or surprised. He might have been the quieter one in their little trio, the brooding Devil, but he was still one of them. Just as reckless and careless with their bodies and their reputations.
What a ridiculous nickname, though. They’d been labeled the ‘Daredevils of Hell’s Bitters’ by the Tamanass Argus, during a particularly slow news cycle when the antics of a couple of middle school-aged boys registered as newsworthy. Mom had been livid and Dad, fire chief that he was, was none too proud his only son was making the paper for breaking bones and pulling stupid, unsafe stunts in the woods with his buddies.
But it stuck. Ever since they’ve been called the Devils—a name they all seemed to have embraced. I’m sure it was much more romantic, more dashing, and epic sounding than the Thoughtless Trampy Trio of Tamanass, which would have been far more accurate, in my opinion.
I absolutely do not want a guy like that. Nice to look at, no doubt, with those broad, square shoulders, shocks of inky black hair, and those lips… mmm, those wicked lips that would feel so good pressed against a certain spot…
Stop it! You’re vanilla, remember?
Yes, I’m Breyer’s vanilla and Dean… he’s like a Salt n’ Straw creation—sea salt, dark chocolate, and pop rocks. Unexpected, unpredictable, and unwise. He is everything I do not want in my life. Spontaneous, enticing, dangerous…
Nope. Not what I need. Besides, he was a total jerk, I remind myself. He called me a bad idea and then stormed off like he wasn’t just talking about making my panties wet. Hot and cold? No thanks, I like my love life like I like my coffee—tepid, sickly sweet, and just a little bland. Lame? Maybe, but you won’t see me with a scalded crotch—from coffee or reckless men.
My irritation with the whole situation is enough to distract me from what would normally trigger a panic attack. I’m parking next to the Den and, while the sun is definitely on the rise now, it’s still fairly dark. All the lights are off inside. Clearly, I’m the first one here. No surprise that Deric and his buddies aren’t punctual.
I rush inside and grope for the light switch and any other light source I
can find.
I look around and notice with shock how much they’ve improved the place. The bones of the place are the same, but everything has received a shiny new coating of something—paint, stain, clear coat, etc. It used to be a bare bones little shanty, and it’s still pretty damn sparse, except for random hooks of gear and a few minimal furnishings, but there’s clearly been an effort made and it shows. The guys even put in a septic tank and a bathroom, so at least I won’t have to run off to find a bush if nature calls. Small consolations, I suppose.
I sit down at the single desk and take stock of the actual business side of things. There is no file cabinet and no computer; just a phone, a beaten-up planner, and a basket of various brands of protein bars. I open the drawer—two folders for receipts and a manila envelope I open… only to recoil in disgust at the large handful of condoms inside.
Ew.
Deric mentioned setting themselves up for manageable growth, but from what I can tell that hasn’t progressed beyond a talking point. Despite my recent unemployment, I always have a minimum two-year plan. Anything less is simply stupid and risky.
I pull out my laptop, cursing my brother and his irresponsible cohorts for the hundredth time this morning and start pricing used computers—a far more appropriate investment than the prophylactics in their inventory. Praise to the digital gods my phone still has some reception.
By the time I’m through a list of necessary office equipment and an accompanying price list, I realize it’s already 8:45. The place officially opens for business at 8am, and yet here I am, all alone, no ‘devils’ in sight. I’m starting to get irritated, so I jump onto to their website and cringe.
“Tourin’ with the Devil… adventure guides servicing Mt. Halbbitter Wilderness Recreation Area,” the banner reads, followed by an “Under Construction” symbol and nothing else but a phone number and a PayPal link.
Deric didn’t lie when he said they needed help with it, so I dig in. The real travesty here is that I’m too late to stop them from using a cheesy Van Halen pun as their business name.
Another twenty minutes pass before I hear footsteps on the front porch. Dean comes striding in, his riding jersey is clinging to sticky skin, helmet in hand, and there’s a fresh gleam in his eyes that speaks of adrenaline and self-destruction.