Oy vey is right.
The End
* * *
About the Author
Dina Littner is a contemporary and new adult romance author. Her stories are naturally awkward and they’re sometimes sexy, so here she is being F*cking Awkward again. Her short story, After the Treehouse, appeared in the first F*cking Awkward anthology.
Dina’s first full-length novel ~ Through an Open Door (Impossible Choices Series Book 1) ~ will release in 2017. Lin Buchanan’s marriage falls apart after she takes one look through an open door at the River Point spa. What the hell is she supposed to do now?
This writer-girl gets excited when readers, bloggers, other authors, and well, basically anyone, reaches out to make friends. She’s all over social media, so find her, follow her and friend her. Do it!
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Turkey Twerking~A Shaw Creek Seduction Short Story
Eliana S. Peters
“Dear God in Heaven, how many people are we feeding?” Ciara Sumter-Pinckney swipes her sleeve across her forehead as she stares wide-eyed at the vast array of dishes spread along the kitchen counters at Savory Thymes.
What feels like a lifetime ago, Jackson and Sawyer abandoned me, taking their fathers with them and leaving me alone with their mother to prepare our first Thanksgiving feast together. Yes, you’ve heard me right. The two chefs couldn’t take being the center of their mother’s attention. So they’ve tucked tail and run, knowing they’ll pay for throwing me to the proverbial wolf. In the last three hours, my heart has stopped beating several times.
For the last several months, they’ve been preparing me to meet her, but nothing about Ciara Sumter-Pinckney is what I’ve expected. Talk about a huge personality in a small package.
“Eleven, and since the restaurant is closed today, we’ll have plenty of room.” The steaming cornbread I’m crumbling burns my fingers, yet is strangely comforting. Or maybe the mild bite of pain is enough to keep my discomfort from strangling me? “I’m thrilled Analise agreed when I suggested it.”
Silence greets me. As I clean my hands, I glance at Ciara. Gaze lowered and shoulders slumped, her chest rises and falls in rapid movement. She purses her lips and shakes her head so fast, I get dizzy.
“Ciara, are you okay?” Though I feel a tad disrespectful calling her by her first name, she’s insisted no daughter of hers will call her Mrs. Sumter-Pinckney. Daughter. Now that’s a word I enjoy hearing.
“I don’t do well with crowds when I’m nervous.” Ciara gnaws her bottom lip, her narrowed gaze aimed at the wall above my head. “It’s that whole lack of filter thing, you know? And according to Elijah and Robert, the more nervous I am, the worse I get.” Her mouth pulls to the side in an awkward grimace, then she shrugs. “Oh, well. Guess we’ll just have to see how it goes. Best we finish.”
“Well, six of the eleven is us, and you met Analise, Michael, and Gabe last night.” Within seconds of introducing them, Ciara had inquired about the circles under Analise’s eyes and her sallow skin. Her arms had held Analise as she’d cried over her recent miscarriages. Poor Analise craves a mother’s touch as much as I do. “Harlan and Granger won’t be here until time to eat, but nothing about them should make you nervous. They’re just a couple of good, old cowboys.”
I carry the cornbread over to the sea of chopped celery, onions, and a huge pile of what looks to be lumps of snot. She passes me a bowl of broth, and I put the dressing together.
“You know this has more uses than just keeping a turkey moist.” Ciara waggles her eyebrows and shakes the full baster in my face. Turkey juices drip to the floor. “I expect grandchildren, Cammy, and lots of them, and if you have to resort to the old turkey baster trick, no one will hold it against you. Not that I think my boys will need the help. Let’s just say they take after their fathers in more ways than looks, if you know what I mean.”
So many things are wrong with her statement. Insemination by turkey baster. Lovely. So, what is the correct response? Trust me, your boys are quite virile? No, if there’s a problem, I’m sure it’s me, not them? As for comparing them to their fathers, I’d rather not go there. Ever. Thank you very much.
With less than twelve hours since meeting Jax and Sawyer’s mom, my nerves are not quite settled to where intimate conversation with her is comfortable for me. Because I’m a private person, it may never be. Hell, I’ve known Analise for years, and I doubt either of us would broach topics like these with such candor.
“I swear, this damn turkey weighs more than I do.” Ciara wrestles the loaded roasting pan into the oven. The twenty-five pound bird is almost as big as she is, so watching her toddle under its weight is funny. “Where the hell are the men when we need them?”
“You know where they are. Jax and Sawyer are showing Mr. Pinckney and Mr. Sumter around the ranch. It’s my understanding you’re thinking of settling in the area when your husbands retire.” Should I be scared? Delicate and petite Ciara may look like a woodland sprite with stunning red hair, frosty blue eyes, and a lyrical voice, but her personality is bigger than life.
“Oh my, yes. Don’t get me wrong. Life at the ocean is wonderful. Two men who smell like shrimp and dead fish all the time? Not so much.” She gives a mock shiver and laughs. “Honey, when I was pregnant, those two were off limits for me until the morning sickness passed. And let me tell you, as horny as I was, they missed some good loving if you know what I mean.” Her brows wiggle. “You just wait ‘til it’s your time. Best. Loving. Ever.”
And there you have it. Ciara’s conversation is filled with sexual innuendo, and I’m not sure what to make of it. The thought of my dignified, straight-laced mother saying such things is both hilarious, ridiculous, and horrifying. Never in my life have I met someone so open, not only about her lifestyle but also her sex life. I have no idea what to make of her.
“So, what can I do to help with the wedding? What time of year are you thinking? I’d bet fall in this area is quite lovely, what with all these beautiful trees changing colors.” Ciara slips her arm around my waist and squeezes me. She’s talking so fast I can’t get a word in edgewise. “And the sunset over the mountains? I can’t wait to see that. An evening wedding would be beautiful as long as you don’t go too formal. Oooo, and if the weather cooperates, an outdoor wedding would be spectacular. Fall, outdoor, evening, but not too late. Perfect.”
“Well, with all the excitement last night, they haven’t exactly propo–”
“Oh pish posh, let’s not split hairs here. It’s as good as done, so as long as you’re going to say yes, we can get some of the pesky details out of the way.”
I close my eyes and count to ten. Either through word or deed, other people have always controlled my life like a marionettist controls a marionette, pulling my strings here and there as they see fit. Do this, Cammy. Say this, Cammy. Don’t eat that, Cammy. And like the docile, obedient dolt I was, I handed over control, no matter how miserable I was.
Until Jax and Sawyer. Through their gentle guidance, love, and support, the cruel voices in my head are now quiet most of the time. A simple glance in the mirror rarely reduces me to the fat little girl I’ve seen staring back at me for years. Instead, the real me peeks out and waves as though she’s always been there. Seeing myself through their eyes is nothing short of miraculous. True love works wonders, and I refuse to cower and stammer.
“Good as done or not, until they ask me, wedding details are a moot point.” Her face falls, and a twinge of guilt hits me. My goal isn’t to hurt her, but to halt her planning session. “As my grams would say, let’s not get the cart befo
re the horse. If . . . No, scratch that. WHEN they ask me, because I know they love me as much as I love them, I want to enjoy every second. That’s all I’m trying to say. After all, don’t you think a girl should enjoy her first and only marriage proposal?” My giggle brings a smile to her face, allowing me to relax a little.
“You’re right, and I’m sorry I’m getting ahead of myself. But the three of you together just feels right.” Her whisper is so quiet and solemn, I’m forced to lean closer to hear her. “To realize my boys have found what their fathers and I have? I can’t even begin to explain how happy it makes me. They deserve someone good in their life, and you, you’re an answer to my prayers.” She sucks in a deep breath and blows it out, smooths her hands over her apron, and rolls her shoulders.
Mischief dances in the depths of her icy blue eyes when her gaze meets mine. Oh, boy, why do I feel like I’m in trouble? My answer comes in a flash.
“Go ahead and put all the oysters in the dressing. Those right there are a sure fire guarantee of some smoking hot sexy time.” Her hips twerk back and forth, humping the air. Miley Cyrus has nothing on Ciara.
The heat in my cheeks is close to leaving blisters on my skin. Her outlandish behavior is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. When she jerks me into the action, I become a little woozy. Could things get any more awkward with her?
“Ma, what the hell are you doing?” Jackson’s booming voice brings immediate relief.
“Looks like a seizure of some sort. Do we need to call 911?” Sawyer laughs as he pulls me between him and Jax. “Ma, did you stop to think you might scare off our ooman?”
“Ciara, baby, we talked about this.” Elijah, Jackson’s father, picks her up and tosses her over his shoulder. “Someone needs a timeout. We’ll bring her back when she’s ready to behave.”
Robert, Sawyer’s father, chuckles and holds the back door open, closing it behind them as they walk out. The quiet man has yet to say more than his initial hello last night. But if I think about it, I’m not sure Ciara gives either of them much time to talk.
After three hours of constant noise, the silence is almost overwhelming, and the stress of the last twelve hours hits me hard.
“I didn’t even hear you come in, but your timing is perfect.” My knees wobble. Jackson swoops me up and, holding me tight to his chest, carries me near the kitchen’s back exit to the bench. Sawyer settles beside us and lifts my legs onto his lap. His fingers knead the tight muscles in my calves while Jax attacks the tension in my shoulders. “I know she’s your mom, but I’m not quite sure how to take her. She’s a little, umm . . . Open? Direct? Scary?”
“Try bat shit crazy.” Sawyer’s body shakes with his laughter. His hands travel up my thighs and rub back and forth across my waistband. “Cammy, Luv, the woman has no filter. Hasn’t in years. Believe it or not, though, she’s usually not this bad, but you make her nervous as hell.”
“I make her nervous?” My mouth drops open in shock. “Sawyer, honey, if that’s how she is when she’s nervous, I’m not sure I want to see what happens when she’s comfortable around me.” The thought sends a tremor through me. Or maybe my reaction is because his hands have slipped inside the front of my pants. Sparks of excitement tingle over my body.
“I told you she likes to share too much, Luv.” Sawyer throws his head back and laughs, leaving me to wonder if he’s aware of what his fingers are doing.
“I’d ask what all she said, but knowing her, I really don’t want to know.” Jackson purses his lips to one side and arches a brow. “Why she thinks she needs to tell us every little detail . . .” His voice trails off as an exaggerated shiver works through his body. “Just no.”
“Mmm hmm,” Sawyer responds, but his attention is nowhere near his brother. Nope, his eyes are square on me. The finger circling my clit, and the sly grin on his face tell me he knows exactly what he’s doing. “I’m thinking our little ooman needs a break.”
“But dinner . . .” My moan cuts off my words, and when his fingers slide through my slit, I couldn't care less about the rest of my sentence. Who needs food? “Sawyer.” I breathe his name like a prayer.
A lusty fog swirls through my brain, and my eyelids grow heavy. The pressure of his thumb increases, and I melt into Jackson, more than happy to settle back and enjoy this delicious treat. Sawyer slips two fingers into my pussy and rubs back and forth across the magic spot guaranteed to set off fireworks.
Jackson ropes an arm around my waist and slides his other hand up my neck to capture my chin. Warm, full lips seize my mouth in a heated kiss, his tongue tangling with mine. I wiggle against the hard length pressed against my spine, wanting, needing him inside me.
Their warmth, the smell of their hard bodies, their touch is as familiar as my heart beating. Between them is where I belong.
Just as the crest of my orgasm swells, Sawyer’s fingers slide out of me. No. So, so close. As I open my mouth to protest the absence of his magic, he whisks my pants and panties to my ankles and raises me high enough for Jackson to pull down his jeans. Before I have more than a second or two to appreciate their thinking, Jackson glides his cock through my wetness and fills me with one, hard stroke. His grip firm on my hips, he lifts me gently and slowly lowers me, teasing me back to the edge with a maddening pace.
“Ah, Sweeth’aa’t, you feel so good wrapped around me,” Jackson groans. His teeth graze my shoulder, and he nips along my neck. “So tight, you’re strangling me.”
Not one to be left out, Sawyer tugs my shirt to my shoulders and jerks my bra beneath my breasts. His tongue darts out to tease my stiffened nipples, and my hands tangle in his hair, holding his head as I writhe against him. He licks and sucks and nibbles as Jackson’s thrusts increase in speed. Spiraling, heated sensations pulse beneath my skin, driving me up, up, up to the pinnacle and shoving me over the ledge.
My mouth opens in a soundless scream as my pussy grips his throbbing cock, milking it with everything I have. The rush of Jackson’s hot cum bathes my quivering walls, and his fingers dig into my hips as he growls my name. The bite of pain sends ripples of bliss skittering through me, despite the bruises I’ll probably find tomorrow.
Sawyer releases my nipple with a loud pop, unbuttons his jeans, and tugs them to the top of his thighs. “It’s my turn, Luv.” The heat in his gaze promises me more pleasure is on the way. I brush my palm over the creamy droplet on the tip of his cock and wrap my fingers around him, moving in a rhythm that will drive him wild. Teasing the limit of his control is one of my favorite things because I most definitely enjoy the way he returns the favor.
Sawyer lifts me off Jax’s lap and backs me against the wall. I try to lift my legs to wrap them around his waist, only to be halted by my pants around my ankles. We lean down at the same time and knock foreheads so hard, I see stars.
“Ouch, that’s going to be ugly tomorrow.” My head throbs, but not enough to keep me from kicking my foot free on one side. “Now, where were we?”
“Right,” Sawyer rubs his swollen cock through my drenched slit, “about,” and inches into my opening, “here.”
Cold air washes over my flushed, overheated skin.
“Did we not give you boys enough time?” Ciara’s voice is like a bucket of ice water thrown on me.
Sawyer jerks at the intrusion, his cock filling me to the brim. I feel much like a stuffed turkey, artfully arranged on a silver platter at the center of the table.
“Ma, can you give us a minute?” Jackson’s face turns beet red.
“Your daddys need to give you some pointers on how to get the job done quickly without everything feeling rushed.” Ciara wraps her arms around her husbands’ waists. Elijah and Robert cough, and it sounds suspiciously like strangled laughs. Thankfully, they turn their backs, but don’t go very far.
This would be a great time for the earth to swallow me. My eyes slam shut, and I bury my face in Sawyer’s stiff shoulder. If I could climb inside him and hide, now would be the perfect moment. Heat—and
not the enjoyable kind—crawls up my body and settles in my cheeks and ears. My heart pounds so hard in my chest, my body trembles.
Wait, no, those are actual vibrations against my chest. I sneak a glance up at Sawyer and realize he’s fighting laughter. His lips are tucked between his teeth, and his eyes are crinkled. His nostrils flare as he struggles to draw in a breath.
“This. Is. Not. Funny,” I whisper-yell in his ear, and then for good measure, sink my teeth into Sawyer’s neck. “How do I get my clothes on without flashing your parents more?”
“Let me help, Sweeth’aa’t.” Jackson’s heat covers my side and back like a blanket on a cold winter’s morning. He pulls my bra over my breasts, smooths my shirt as far as it will go, and stretches the waistband of my pants. When Sawyer slips out of me and steps back to fix his jeans, Jackson moves right in to slide my foot in and pull up my leggings. If anyone’s seen anything, it’s only a small peep.
“There now, don’t be embarrassed.” A gentle hand runs through my tangled hair. “Do you have any idea how much it thrills me to know my sons have finally found someone to love? Someone who loves them? The woman who fills all the empty spaces and takes all the ugly away?” Ciara cups my chin and lifts until my eyes meet hers. Her wild mane of red hair sticks out all willy-nilly, as though filled with static electricity. Flushed cheeks, sparkling green eyes, and swollen lips tell me how she’s spent her time away from the kitchen. She leans closer, placing her mouth next to my cheek. “Trust me, if they can’t keep their hands off you, it’s a very good thing.” Her soft whisper tickles my ear. “Very, very good if your blush is any indication.”
“Ma, stop.” Jackson slides his upper body between us and wraps his arms around my waist, holding me close as he walks over to the sink. “Cammy’s not used to your brand of crazy, and if you’re not careful, you might scare her off.”
F*CKING AWKWARD HOLIDAYS: 25 Short Stories of Awkward Holiday Encounters Page 14