Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)

by Shey Stahl

  “What the fuck...” he yelled back at her. “Oh god, stop screaming, my head fucking hurts.”

  Aiden and Jameson tried to pull her away but she never let up. She was like a Chihuahua that latched on and wouldn’t let up until it shed blood.

  In his attempt to get her loose, they stumbled together into the kiddy pudding pool. She finally let go but sat there wiping pudding away and seething at him. “You’re such a fucking jerk, Spencer!”

  “What are you talking about?” he snapped back at her while he too wiped pudding away.

  Aiden was holding Emma back and noticed what she was yelling about when her make shift scarf of toilet paper fell loosely around her shoulders.

  His eyes widened as he read it. “Holy shit,” He turned her around to look at him, his eyes wide with panic. “You’re growing your hair out.”

  “No shit.” She snapped back and then pushed him. “Where were you on that one? You didn’t think to stop him from convincing me to do this?”

  “Like I was in any condition to stop anyone,” He lifted her shirt that he was wearing. “If so, I would have never done this,”

  Emma fell backwards into the pudding pool again in a fit of laughter while Spencer and Jameson finally noticed Aiden’s tattoo of “Mount Up” as well. Jameson had to lean against the wall to keep from falling over while his entire body shook with silent laughs.

  I hadn’t stopped giggling since they walked in. I was like the Pillsbury doughboy.

  Look, we have ridiculous tattoos, he he he! Look there’s pudding everywhere, he he he! Look, there’s a dick on the wall, he he he!

  Still laughing, I watched as the boys surveyed the room. They too looked surprised by the kiddy pool, beer, and toilet paper everywhere but flabbergasted at the dick on the wall.

  Seriously, I don’t think you can grasp how large it was. To give you a mental picture, the ceiling in this particular room has to be at least fifteen feet tall. So if you have never seen a fifteen foot tall spray painted dick complete with hairy balls and veins on a wall—you’re missing out.

  Look, there’s a dick on the wall, he he he!

  With my maturity level exceptionally low today, I couldn’t stop myself. I was actually crying at that point on the floor beside Jameson.

  “Who drew that?” Emma finally asked pointing to it.

  Aiden and Jameson both responded with, “Spencer,” at the same time.

  Spencer just nodded his head arrogantly. “It’s pretty fucking awesome, huh?”

  “No, what’s awesome is going to be watching you explain your new haircut and the tramp stamp on your back to Alley.” Jameson laughed.

  “What tramp stamp?” Emma and I asked curiously.

  Spencer started backing towards the wall so we couldn’t see but with the help of Aiden and Jameson, we managed to tackle him to the ground and pull up his shirt for a better view.

  Right about his ass crack was “Insert coin to bust a move”.

  This was all too much to really believe. We all had random tattoos, the room was trashed beyond believe, there was a fifteen foot tall spray painted dick on the wall, a kiddy pool full of pudding, and a bouncy house full of toilet paper.

  I looked over at Jameson sitting against the wall still shaking with laughter. “How did you manage not to get branded in all this?”

  Jameson’s eyes flickered to Aiden and Spencer and then back to mine.

  Before he could say anything, Spencer laughed a loud booming laugh that had all of us covering our ears. “He didn’t. He got it worse than all of us.”

  Jameson smiled once and looked away, panic evident in his features.

  “How did he get it worse? Emma asked jumping on Jameson. “What does his say?”

  “Get off me,” Jameson grumbled running into the bathroom slamming the door behind him.

  All of us looked towards Spencer for an answer but he shook his head. “I’m not saying, after the morning he had...he can tell you what they say.”

  “What do mean they?” I asked curiously.

  “Like I said, they, now ask him.” Spencer turned towards his masterpiece on the wall. “Goddamn, that’s talent.” He nodded pleased with himself and his art ability.

  I heard the shower running so I decided to sneak in the bathroom to find out for myself what his tattoos said.

  “Jameson?” I asked inching the door open hesitantly.

  “Yeah,” his voice muffled from the spraying water. Steam drifted in loops around me when the door closed.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.”

  Making sure it was locked, I asked, “Are you okay?” as I leaned against the counter.

  “I’m fine.” Without seeing his expression, I knew by the tone, he was rolling his eyes. “Get in here with me.”

  “I already took a shower.”

  “Sway, I wasn’t asking.” He sighed. “Get in here.”

  Of course, the pit lizard in me started striping away her clothes and stepped inside the glass shower—no need to ask twice.

  Jameson was a sight to see with no clothes on and soapy water running off him everywhere.

  He smirked, his own eyes wandering. When our eyes finally met, he winked. “Come here, honey.”

  Stepping forward, he wrapped his arms tightly around my waist pulling me against his chest.

  After a few moments, my curiosity got the best of me. I had to know what those tattoos said. “Jameson?”

  “Yeah,” I watched as the water ran down his stomach.

  “What does your tattoo say?”

  “Which one?” he chuckled a nervous chuckle.

  “All of them.” Pulling back, I snuck a glance up at him.

  His nose scrunched. “Well, one doesn’t say anything but strangely resembles these beautiful lips.” He placed two fingers to my lips.

  “I already know about that one.”

  He nodded. “All right, well the other ones...let’s see...” he pulled away from me, stood there and then looked down to the promise land. “That one,” he pointed to his right hipbone not more than two inches above his camshaft. “says: Sway’s property. And this one,” he pointed to his left hipbone in the same position. “says: Hands off. And this one,” he turned around and pointed to his ass where my lips were. “says: I told you hands off. I bite.” his eyes dropped. “I think that’s all of them...that I can see.”

  The one on his ass was the funniest because the letters were placed right above the lips.

  I started giggling. “What have we done?”

  “Obviously, we weren’t thinking last night.”

  “Well, that debatable.” I suggested trying to imply I wasn’t too upset about my branding.

  He grinned widely. “What does yours say?”

  “I didn’t get one.” I lied with a sly grin.

  “Yes you did,”

  “No I didn’t.”

  “Turn around, Sway.”

  “No.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Sway, turn around.”

  “No.”

  He shook his head slowly. “You really shouldn’t have said that.” And he lunged for me. I was flipped around in his arms before I even had time to react.

  He’s a quick.

  With my ass pressed against his camshaft, he examined my new branding.

  Sure enough, he burst into laughter. “It actually looks like they used an iron.” His fingers traced the outline lightly—I winced. “Sorry,” he mumbled moving his hands to my hips, pushing forward against me. “I like it though.”

  “I kind of do too.” I admitted shyly looking down at my feet.

  “Hey,” he whispered. “Look at me, honey.” He asked when I kept turning my head away. His hand caught my cheek forcing me to look at him. And though I resisted out of embarrassment, when I finally did look at him, he smiled. “You can get it removed if you want.” His stare was laced with vigilance as he gauged my reaction.

  Shrugging, I told him. “I’ll keep it.”

 
; He winked. “I’m definitely keeping mine.” He actually looked proud.

  “Really?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Now he actually looked offended.

  “What are you going to do when you have girlfriend? Don’t you think she might have something to say about this?” I hedged.

  He hesitated for a second before he spoke, his eyes dropping from mine. “It won’t be a problem.” His words didn’t match his expression. He looked upset, maybe even uncomfortable that I said that.

  Offering me a quick smile, he turned away to rinse the shampoo out of his pudding hair.

  Fearing my own expression would falter, I decided to change the subject.

  “Do you remember anything from last night?” I washed his back for him, running my fingers up his long lean lats and over the sharp defined muscles of each shoulder.

  His breathing caught when my hands reached around and followed the lines of his hip and down the inside of his thigh.

  With my chest pressed against his back now, I could feel the quick rise and fall of each one of his strained deep breaths as though they were my own.

  Jameson’s hands moved from his hair to rest against the shower wall, his head fell forward against the tile when my hands found his camshaft and stroked it once.

  This was the only distraction I could come up with.

  “Huh?” he finally asked.

  “What do you remember from last night?” I repeated in a low seductive whisper.

  Jameson inhaled a shaky breath, I stroked him once more, this time squeezing my hand a slightly.

  “I...uh...not very much,” He answered and then swallowed. “I remember the bar...dancing with you in the middle of the street...” I kissed his neck. “I remember the tattoo place, kind of, Spencer drawing his master piece, and bits and pieces of the closet,”

  “Why were we in the closet?” I questioned moving in front of him.

  Pushing him against the wall, I dropped to my knees for a change.

  Jameson threw his head back, knocking against the tile once again moaning when my lips found his camshaft.

  Slowly, I drew him inside my mouth, earning me another moan of pleasure from him.

  I was utterly amazed at how one minute we can be having a serious conversation regarding touching on our feelings for one another, and then the next minute, we were having sex.

  Jameson’s hands wrapped tightly in my hair while I continued to suck, swirl, bob, and drug my teeth along his length. He didn’t last long that’s for sure. Within a few minutes of my dedicated ministrations, I could feel him try to pull me away.

  Instead, I slapped his hands away, drawing him in deeper. Poor fellow, he only lasted another ten seconds before his head slammed back against the shower wall once again, groaned my name.

  “Did you take a class on that or something?” he fell beside me.

  “Yeah, micro-polishing 101,” I replied splashing some water on my face. “I got an “A” by the way.”

  He laughed pulling me into his arms so I was sitting on his lap, straddling him. His expression was yet again, unreadable as he stared deep into my eyes. It was as if he was searching for an answer to question but I hadn’t heard him ask anything.

  “What?” I asked softly, embarrassed by the silence and slightly scared of what he’s going to say or thinking for that matter.

  “Sway, I...” he paused, his brow furrowed as he continued to stare at me with a fraught expression. His hand rose to cradle the apple of my cheek, his fingers brushing over my lips.

  Blinking slowly, the countenance faltered. Instead of finishing what he was going to say, he leaned in pressing his lips to my forehead once.

  I sighed contently because this was perfect, bound in the arms of the perfect man. I leaned forward wrapping my arms around his neck pulling my body flush against his. His arms wrapped instinctually around my waist, cradling me to him. This embrace was different from the previous embraces we shared, it seemed...affectionate?

  Maybe Emma was right. Maybe my plan was working.

  If it’s not working, I truly hope there’s a support group for pit lizards who got their heart broken because I’m going to need one after this.

  While I was thinking this, Jameson’s lips never left my wet skin, licking, sucking and biting my neck and shoulders. His mouth was soft, his lips were warm and the stubble on his face was coarse but more importantly, hot damn this boy can kiss.

  I soon realized while Jameson’s need may have been met just moments ago—my need had not. Pressed against my wet and ready crankcase was a camshaft that was ready for rotation again.

  Pulling his mouth from my neck, I brought it my own.

  He mouth attacked me with frantic kisses reaching between us lifting me up so he could slide inside, with his signature low growl.

  Gasping this ridiculously loud porn star moan when he entered me, his arms curled around my shoulders, pulling me into him with each avid thrust. His arms were thick and tense, the muscles flexing as he pushed and pulled me against him. His chest was a solid wall of muscle, rippling and defining with every movement he made.

  Arching my back in response to all this, his mouth found my nipples again as he started with his nipple trick thing he does so damn well, sparking yet another ridiculous whore moan.

  The fact of the matter here was I could give a flying fuck about how loud I was—this all felt so good. I could also give a flying fuck that Spencer was now beating on the bathroom door for us to hurry up.

  Jameson nipped across my chest, his nose swept between the valley of my funbags—the stubble on his cheek scrapping deliciously across my sensitive skin. I couldn’t shut up and I kept moaning, earning a chuckle from him.

  I really did sound ridiculous.

  “Fuck, you really like that, don’t you?” Jameson asked in a low throaty voice.

  “You think,” I moaned sarcastically.

  He chuckled again. “You’re adorable.” He sucked my lower lip in his mouth sucking gently.

  Suddenly everything turned serious, our movements speed and we become strangely determined.

  “I just...can’t get enough of you.” He panted against my lips desperately searching for more. “You’re all I think about...all the time, I can’t stop.”

  “I know the feeling.” I panted.

  Without the slightest bit warning, my whole body flushed with heat and I burst into flames deep in my belly.

  “God that’s so good, Jameson.” I screamed with absolutely no volume control.

  He slammed me down on him harder. “Shit,” he grinded out, the word “fuck” fell from his lips, and he buried his face in my neck, thrusting erratically into me until he was shaking.

  Running my fingers through his wet hair, we both sucked in a labored breath trying to calm our furiously beating hearts.

  After last night and as wonderful as this was, I had a feeling I was going to be incredibly sore real soon.

  Before we could really come down from the incredible endorphins settling nicely in our sex crazed tattooed bodies, the water turned freezing cold and Spencer was nearly beating the door down.

  “I fucking hate him sometimes.” Jameson grumbled as we dried off.

  “I know the feeling, sport.” I agreed slapping his tattooed ass with my towel.

  He gave me another grin before dressing in his suit

  When we opened the door, three questioning expressions greeted our flushed appearances.

  I personally didn’t think we were that loud but their gazes told me otherwise.

  Spencer grumbled to himself for a minute and then pushed Jameson out of the way. “I’ve had to piss for like an hour you assholes.” He stomped into the bathroom slamming the door behind him.

  This left Emma and Aiden still staring at us. Jameson and I both looked at each other and then back to them.

  “What?” Jameson asked all defensively.

  “Nothing,” they both said at the same time and busied themselves with cleaning up the
room.

  Jameson looked around the room and laughed. “Don’t worry about cleaning up. I already gave them my credit card downstairs. They said they’d take care of everything.” His eyes flickered to the mammoth dick on the wall. “But, we should...uh...cover that up...somehow.”

  Look, there’s a dick on the wall, he he he!

  Aiden and Jameson looked around for some more spray paint while Emma and I gathered our bags. Once they found some spray paint, they proceeded to paint over it but not before they took about a hundred pictures of us posing by it.

  Spencer joined in and was very sad that we were covering up his artwork. Pouted just like his son for a good twenty minutes.

  Before heading back to Mooresville we stopped off for some food at a local diner.

  While eating, we started talking about what happened last night and who remembered what. As it turned out, it was hardly anything at all.

  Jameson was sitting in front of me beside Spencer in the booth when I started giggling at how much he was eating. In a matter of ten minutes, he ate eight pieces of bacon, two slices of toast, a mountain of hash browns and now he was working on his egg whites.

  “What...there full of protein and good for you,” He offered up when he noticed my questioning glance.

  I personally thought egg white look like snot and refused to eat them but sure enough, I said exactly what I was thinking in that moment.

  Smiling, I chewed the last of my toast as Jameson watched me with narrowed eyes. I think he knew I was about to say something stupid, which I did.

  “So is jiz but you don’t see me harvesting yours so I can drink it in a cup,” I told him.

  Jameson, who was in the midst of taking a drink of orange juice, must have inhaled and then to compensate, sprayed orange juice all over his egg whites and me.

  “What?” I shrugged. “It is.”

  Emma shook her head because really, that statement shouldn’t surprise anyone that knew me.

  “That was awesome,” Spencer said through a series of snorts.

  At least that’s what I think he said. He did have an entire mouth full of food, so really, he could have said anything.

  The rest of breakfast was quiet and surprisingly, I didn’t say anything else to embarrass myself any further.