by Lucy Score
“I took him to Chicken Shit Bingo,” I argued for the sake of arguing.
“Alls I’m sayin’ is I miss my friend,” Cassidy said, giving the eyeball to Rocky Tobias who had parked his shiny monster truck across two parking spaces in front of the bank.
Rocky gave a guilty wave and jogged to his precious hemi before the good deputy could cite him for assholery.
“Do you like him?” Cassidy asked.
“Who? Rocky? He’s a great dancer.”
“Devlin, you jackass. Do you like Devlin McCallister?”
“Of course, I do. I wouldn’t be sleeping with him otherwise!”
“Not true. Wade Zirkel.”
“That was different. I was... bored.”
Cassidy gave me the “I don’t believe you but keep talking so you get deeper in trouble” look that she’d gotten from her father.
“Ugh. Fine. I like him. Like a lot. And I know he’s only here for a few weeks, and I know it’s all temporary. But orgasms, Cassidy. Oh, the orgasms!”
People were looking at us. Downtown on a Wednesday during tourism season, Bootleg was packed.
“Tell me more about these orgasms,” she said, passing the coffee back to me.
“You know how we read that book where the girl had like thirty orgasms in the span of ten pages?”
Cassidy nodded, a faraway look in her eye. “Yeah, I seem to recall that fictional freak of nature.”
“Sex with Devlin is like that.”
“You had thirty orgasms?” Cassidy lost her deputy cool and screeched this to the entire block.
I clamped a hand over her mouth. “Will you shut your face? I don’t want the entire female population of Bootleg Springs to go knocking on Dev’s door asking for handouts!”
“Holy shit, Scar. No wonder I haven’t seen you and, when I do, you’re walkin’ funny.”
I dragged her down Bathtub Gin Alley past the natural soaps and lotions store and the Build a Shine—the Bootleg answer to Build-A-Bear for moonshine drinkers.
“Multiple orgasms are a thing, Cass. A beautiful, beautiful thing.” I felt exactly like I did the time I’d told my six-year-old best friend that Santa wasn’t real. I was unveiling a truth of the universe.
“I think I need to sit down,” Cassidy said, sinking onto the stoop in front of The Brunch Club, a popular hideaway for tourists who loved their brunch with strong cocktails. Patrons had to use a secret password to gain entrance.
“Cass, do you know what this means?” I asked, hunkering down next to her and patting her arm.
“That we’ve been having sex with the wrong men,” she moaned.
“Exactly.”
“Well, where do I find me a Devlin?”
I wanted to say it. I wanted to shove her into Bowie’s waiting arms, but family loyalty came first always and forever with the Bodines. Bowie had to be the one to make the move. And at the rate they were going, one of them would be dead before he did.
“We’ll find you one. Heck, I found mine next door.”
22
Devlin
Scarlett’s text told me to meet her in the backyard. What she was doing in my backyard without coming into the house was beyond me, but I was beginning to realize most things about Scarlett were beyond me and that it was worth it to just go along for the ride.
Scarlett: Bring your bathing suit.
I texted her back on my way out the door.
Devlin: When you said less clothing I assumed you meant naked.
A shrill whistle brought my attention to the water. Scarlett was lounging in a kayak at the end of Gran’s dock. Another kayak was tied on to hers. “Y’all can get naked if you want, but you might startle the tourists,” she called.
I walked down the dock to her. She was wearing a red and white checked bikini, sunglasses, and her cowgirl hat. I stopped and pulled out my phone to snap a picture.
“What are you doing?” she laughed.
I snapped the picture and tucked my phone back in my pocket. I had a feeling I was going to want to remember this day.
“I believe the question should be, what are you doing?”
“I was already interrogated by the police today. Don’t you try and put me on the witness stand,” she teased. I knelt down on the end of the dock and gave her a kiss.
“Are you ready for our kayak picnic?”
“I have so many questions,” I admitted.
“Shoot.”
“What’s a kayak picnic? How do I get into said kayak? How do we picnic in a kayak? Will we be getting naked at some point? Should I put on sunscreen?”
“A kayak picnic is when we float on the lake and eat. You get into the kayak by taking it into the shallow water and sittin’ your ass in it. My kayak has the cooler of food. Yours has the beer and water. The answer to getting naked is always yes. And I brought you some spray on SPF.”
“What about my phone?”
She held up a small plastic box. “Dry box, my friend.”
“I guess that answers all my questions.”
“I guess it does. Get in.” She untied the empty kayak and handed me the rope. “Go on now.”
I towed it like a puppy to land and, kicking off my sneakers, I walked into the water. The warmth of the lake water always surprised me. “Just kinda straddle it and drop in,” Scarlett suggested. She was paddling in circles just off the end of the dock.
I did as she instructed and flopped into the kayak. It rocked side to side for a moment but steadied itself.
“Come on! Let’s go!” Scarlett said cheerfully. She dipped her paddle into the water and accelerated away from the dock.
“Wait for me!” I’d spent some time in college in sculls and shells rowing. But a kayak was a new experience for me. I grabbed the paddle secured to the side with a bungee cord and dipped one end into the water.
“Paddle’s upside down,” Scarlett called out in a singsong voice.
I had no idea how a paddle could be upside down. Gamely, I pushed off the lake floor and awkwardly propelled myself toward her.
“Told ya you’d like it,” Scarlett said smugly.
I couldn’t argue. The hidden hot springs she’d directed us to, tucked away on an uninhabited shore of the lake, was like nature’s perfect hot tub. We’d pulled the kayaks up on the shore behind some cleverly stacked logs that hid them from view.
Hot water bubbled up from beneath the surface to heat the huge pool. We were hidden from view by rock outcroppings and lush evergreens.
“How are there not thirty people in here right now?” I asked, reclining on a natural rock ledge in the pool worn smooth by the water. Scarlett floated next to me.
“They don’t call this the Secret Springs for no reason,” she laughed.
“I thought you said Bootleg doesn’t keep secrets?”
“From each other. Bootleggers know about this place, but we don’t tell tourists. That’s why there’s a No Trespassing sign on the beach.”
“So how are there no Bootleggers drinking gin and country line-dancing in here.”
“‘Cause I signed up for two hours, silly.”
“There’s a sign-up sheet?”
“Well, yeah. You wouldn’t want to come here for some private time and find out that it’s occupied by the church ladies would you?”
“No, I would not.” But I was getting what she was telling me. We had the place to ourselves. For two whole hours.
Scarlett swam to me and slid a slick leg over mine to settle into my lap. I brought my hands to her tight little ass and pulled her against me. She gave me a silky smile when I started to thicken beneath her. She was so much packed into a petite body. Her breasts were delectably hidden behind the red and white checks of her swimsuit top. It had a little frill of material at the top of both cups. A tease for the eyes.
“I like your suit,” I told her gruffly.
“I was hoping you’d approve.”
I wanted to kiss her to thank her for today, for everything since I’d shuf
fled here in misery a few short weeks ago. I came here not able to imagine a way out of the darkness that had descended on my life. And here I was with a beautiful woman who smelled like sunshine sitting in my lap and smiling at me like I was something special. Not Devlin McCallister the state lawmaker. Not the man who had a path to Washington, D.C. mapped out in the next five years. No, she thought I was special. The broken and battered man who lived next door. I felt a sudden rush of gratitude and pulled her against me, hugging her to my chest.
“Mmm,” she sighed against my skin, somehow understanding that this wasn’t foreplay.
I brushed my lips against her hair. She’d piled it on top of her head and secured it with an elastic band. Even when I looked at her objectively, her appeal was undeniable. It went beyond her sweet smile and those bright, mischievous eyes. Beyond that little, curvy body and that dusting of freckles. It was in her energy, in the happiness that spilled out of her, the ridiculous schemes she plotted up, the way she moved her body on a dance floor as if she were worshipping the music by letting it move through her.
She’d managed to rebuild me, brick by brick, into someone different than I’d been before. She was happiness and fun and sweetness rolled into one tiny package. And right now, she was mine. Somehow, that accomplishment felt bigger and more important than any other success I’d achieved in my old life.
My old life. That’s what Scarlett had called it. When had I started thinking of it that way?
“Tell me about your wife,” she said.
My mellow feelings took a sharp left turn into instant anxiety.
She laughed softly against my chest. “I can feel every muscle in your body tensing.”
“It’s not my favorite subject,” I said dryly.
“Do you mind telling me about her?”
I shrugged. Johanna was a wound that was starting to close, but care still needed to be taken lest it festered again. “What do you want to know?”
“What was she like before all this? How did you meet her?”
I thought back, absently stroking my hands over Scarlett’s back pausing to toy with the strings of her top. “I’m not sure how we actually met.”
It was ironic considering I knew that I’d never forget the moment I met Scarlett. A little brunette mainlining beer in cowboy boots on the tailgate of a pick-up truck. While that image was carved into my mind, Johanna had just always been there in the periphery. “We moved in the same social circles, went to the same events, knew the same people. My parents invited her to dinner one night, and we talked a lot.”
I remembered the meal. The knowledge that it was a fix-up. I wasn’t overly annoyed. Johanna was a beautiful woman, a requisite for a good partner. She was well-spoken, well-bred, appropriately educated. The boxes checked themselves. Her father was a political consultant. She understood the requirements of a politician’s wife.
“Was it love at first sight?” Scarlett asked.
I laughed. “No. Nothing like that. It was more of a mutual respect.”
“That’s not hot.”
I laughed, tracing circles on Scarlett’s hips. “No, but in my world, mutual respect and shared goals are more important than heat and love at first sight.”
Scarlett leaned back to look at me. “Why do you think she cheated?”
I hadn’t said the words aloud to anyone. Hadn’t put voice to them because I was afraid doing so would make them true. But keeping them inside was eating away at me.
“I wasn’t progressing in my career as quickly as I should have,” I confessed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I found myself frustrated with the whole system. Getting anything done required so many compromises that the end product didn’t resemble the original in any way. It wasn’t about doing good things for our constituents. It was about careers and grandstanding and choosing sides. My whole life I dreamed of making a difference, of working within the framework that our founders established. And when I got there it was nothing like what I thought it would be.”
Scarlett cocked her head but didn’t say anything.
“I started to drag my feet, making fewer appearances. It was a two-year term which is very short, so I found myself campaigning to keep a job I didn’t really like.”
It felt like ripping off a band-aid and letting the wound breathe. No one was here to tell me that was a ridiculous way to feel or that I just needed to be patient and grow my power base to affect change.
“It was supposed to be my calling, and I hated being in session. From January to April, we were on the floor twelve to fourteen hours a day doing nothing productive. Just pushing or fighting agendas. I never said anything to Johanna, but she noticed. When we were first married, our nights and weekends were spent at events. Networking, being seen, showing up for causes. And when I started to pull back...”
“She went looking for someone else,” Scarlett filled in.
I nodded. “She had her own goals. She wanted to be a senator’s wife. I think she hoped for even more than that, and when she saw me backing away from it, she went looking for someone who could get her there.”
“What did your family say?”
“They thought it was just a phase for me. That I just needed to recommit to my path.”
“Did that include recommitting to a wife who was a cheating skankface douche?”
I laughed and squeezed her ass with my hands. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it did. They suggested marital counseling. They even went as far to schedule an appointment for us.”
Scarlett came back to me, resting her head on my shoulder. “That’s bullshit.”
“That is an accurate assessment.”
“So, not only were you betrayed by your wife, your family jumped aboard the Fuck Devlin Over train. It’s not your job to live your life for what they want. They made a human being, not hired an employee.”
Hearing her say it, having Scarlett call it out for what it was, felt like a healing of sorts. A validation for the nebulous feelings of discontent I’d felt toward my parents since that day.
“What do you want now, Dev?”
When was the last time anyone had asked me that?
“Right now?”
She nodded earnestly.
“Right now, I want you.” I reached up and untied the strings holding her top up.
23
Scarlett
I bowed backwards into the water until it covered my ears. Here there was no sound, only the sensation of Devlin’s mouth at my breasts, licking and sucking. Teasing and tempting. The blue sky above me, warm water all around me. Devlin’s hands stroking me.
It felt like a religious experience.
He was gentle with me, not his usual demanding self, and I found myself enjoying this side of him just as much as the dominating one. He lapped at my nipple and bit. Lifting me by my ass, Devlin floated me further away from him. I wanted to complain, wanted to go back to him, but when he untied one side of my bottoms, I realized what he wanted.
I floated there suspended between sky and water while Devlin spread my soft folds with his thumbs. The first stroke of his tongue was rapture. He worshipped me there in the hot springs until I was a tingling ball of sensation. Until every cell, every nerve ending, sparked to life. I felt the sun on my tender nipples, felt the water caress my hair, and surrendered to the nature of it all.
Devlin slid a finger into me and then another, gently massaging from the inside while his mouth played on me. The orgasm flowed over me like a waterfall. I cascaded into pleasure rippling around his fingers.
He was speaking. I could hear the vibrations but couldn’t make out the words under the water. But I felt them in my heart. He was praising me, pleasing me. Everything inside me glowed as the pleasure ebbed and flowed and finally faded into bliss.
Then he was pulling me back to him, lifting me out of the water to settle me in his lap. Water flowed down my back, and Devlin fastened his mouth to one pert nipple. “You are perfection,”
he whispered to me.
Reaching between us, I slipped my hand into his swim trunks. He was achingly hard to the touch.
He raised his head from my breast. “Scarlett, I don’t have a condom.”
“I have one in the bag,” I said breathlessly. I closed my fist around him and stroked him. “I don’t think I can walk,” he confessed with a half laugh.
“I got this.” I lifted off of him and climbed out of the pool. My untied bikini hung off of me. I discarded it on the way to the dry bag and dumped the contents until I found the foil packet. Victoriously I cannonballed back into the pool.
“You make quite the picture, Scarlett Bodine,” Devlin breathed as I ripped the foil with my teeth.
I rolled the latex on him, squeezing his cock at the root. His head fell back against the wet rock, his eyes closed in a tableau of ecstasy. He made me feel powerful and wanton, and I never wanted to lose that feeling.
“I love how it feels when you touch me,” he admitted, his long, inky lashes parting to look at me.
“I’m partial to it, too,” I teased. I raised up high on my knees and positioned his broad head at my entrance.
“I feel like I should ask about the danger of bacteria in this spring,” Devlin said suddenly.
I laughed, dropping my forehead to his. I had half an inch of him inside me, and he was worried about water quality.
“Sometimes you’re too sensible for your own good.” I moved just a bit, taking just another inch. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. “And the water is tested weekly with the results posted on the secret online signup sheet. So quit worrying and start making me come.”
Devlin didn’t need any more encouragement than that. He grabbed my hips in a grip that hurt and yanked me down on his erection.
I cried out something unintelligible as he filled me. I’d never get used to this feeling. So full, stretched right up to my limit. And the pain of it was its own special turn on.