Forged Under Blue Fire: Indigo Knights Book VIII

by A. J. Downey

  “Oh, wow! They weren’t kidding. They’re right on the river,” she said, and I was grateful for the swift distraction.

  “Guess now we know why it’s on stilts, still don’t make no damn sense why the garage is down here, though.”

  She laughed. “No, it doesn’t but it is beautiful.”

  “Now that, I’ll give you.”

  “Reminds me of Midsummer Eve by Edward Robert Hughes,” she said.

  “I have no clue who that is.” I shook my head.

  “You do, I promise. If you saw it, you would know it.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it.” I smiled and she set her easel down, leaning it against a stump that was a little ways back from the riverbank.

  “This should do,” she said and lifted her satchel off over her head.

  “Looks like it’ll work for a seat,” I agreed.

  “I am so going to dip my feet and cool off.”

  “Alright, now. Now you’re talkin’.”

  We each took a seat on the broad, low stump to take our boots and socks off and to roll up our jeans as far as they would go. It may have looked like something straight outta Deliverance up in here, but I had to give it to the guys, it was peaceful.

  The sound of running water loosened things up in my shoulders and neck from the ride, the tension draining outta me as I waited for Ellie to stand back up. I took off my jacket and cut, slipped my cut off from around my jacket and donned it again.

  “Oh, good idea.” She slid out of her sister’s jacket and laid it over the top of mine next to her satchel.

  She looked good in her light pink tee, jeans rolled up to just below her knees. She took my offered hand and we walked through the low brown grass, spotted with green here and there, to the water’s edge.

  “Hey! Don’t go out too far! The current can be a bitch!” Driller called from up on the back, screened-in wrap-around porch.

  I put a hand up and waved that I’d heard him, and Ellie and I got our feet wet, just past our ankles.

  The cold water was a shock, but it felt damn good.

  She was quiet and reserved as she scanned the tree line across the shallows, the sound of river water babbling over rounded river rocks the only thing to fill the silence.

  “What you thinking about?” I asked finally.

  “I don’t know,” she murmured. “Nothing, I guess. It’s kind of nice, actually. The quiet.”

  “Yeah, I’m not used to it. Been a city boy all my life. It’s like I need the noise and the hustle.”

  “I can understand that,” she said with a sigh.

  “C’mere,” I murmured and she fitted herself against my front, laying her head on my shoulder. I held her close, the water running past our feet and we just absorbed the peace and quiet, the comfort in each other’s arms.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “I love you, too, babe.”

  “We’re going to get through this, right?”

  “Damn straight,” I told her. “It’s you and me against the world, baby.”

  She sighed and cuddled a little closer. We stood like that for I don’t know how long, the river moving lazily around our ankles, carrying a lot of the tension and the bad shit downstream – at least for now.

  I didn’t know what I did to deserve having this woman in my arms, loving me, after what I’d done – unintentionally or not – but I would take it. I would stand here, in the here and now, and breathe the clean green smelling air and her fresh vanilla scent and I would let it all go for just a minute. I would lay the burden down and let myself rest, and I hoped I could get her to do the same.

  “I wish this feeling could last forever,” she said after a moment and I smoothed a hand up and down her back.

  “Me, too.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Driller swore from back up on the porch and Ellie and I sputtered, laughing.

  “Way to ruin the moment,” she said with a rueful grin.

  I sighed, “Ahhh, boy,” and shook my head.

  “What are they even doing?” she asked curiously.

  “Who knows, when it comes to them two; I learned a long time ago – don’t ask questions.”

  “Oh, come on, they can’t be that bad,” she said.

  “Bad? Naw. Different?” I gave a slow nod. “Definitely different.”

  “How so?” she asked curiously.

  I chuckled lightly. “Stayin’ around ‘em a whole weekend I’m sure you’ll see. Those two have no inhibitions and that shit’s only gotten worse since Narcos hooked up with Everleigh last year.”

  “Aww, they seem really sweet on her.”

  “They are, but I just don’t get that dynamic.”

  “What? Poly?”

  “If that’s what you call them sharing her.”

  Ellie shrugged.

  “Doesn’t bother you?” I asked.

  “It’s not for me,” she said. “But who am I to judge anybody else’s decisions about their life? If they’re not hurting anyone and it’s not toxic, I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

  I smiled and said, “Me either. It’s just not how a brother from my hood was raised, you know what I mean?”

  She smiled faintly. “I understand, but that’s more your hang up than theirs, yeah?”

  I thought about it and turned down the edges of my mouth impressed.

  “No, you know what? You’re absolutely right.”

  “Live and let live,” she murmured.

  I nodded and kissed her forehead.

  “Sounds good.”

  30

  Elka…

  We relaxed by the river. At one point, Everleigh carefully picked her way across the stones and disappeared into the woods while Narcos and Driller appeared with fly-fishing rods. Oz professed his rustiness at fly-fishing but like a good sport, joined the guys in trying his hand at it while I set up my easel and got out my drawing pencil.

  I sighed and stared sightlessly across the river and contemplated what I wanted to paint. I mean, I couldn’t get the image of Midsummer Eve by Edward Robert Hughes out of my mind. The enchanted young girl in the woods, leaning forward with her hands on her knees, the fairies dancing at her feet, a crown of flowers in her red hair.

  The scene before me had the same vibe but there was just… something missing.

  Then the magic happened.

  Everleigh, in her long, flowy hippy skirt and peasant blouse stepped out from between the trees to the river’s edge. She held something in her hands – what, I wasn’t quite sure until she held it up to the light, a jar filled with amber-gold liquid. She peered up at it, hair long and flowing wild behind her, a soft smile on her lips and I sucked in a sharp breath.

  It was perfect. One of those singular moments in time, only a fraction of a second but burned into my memory and I swiftly began to sketch before I lost it.

  I didn’t have the ability to make this painting as photo-realistic as I had the painting of Mia back in my studio, but I would do my best to get it as close as mere memory would allow with just a few tweaks here and there.

  I worked for hours, roughing out the image with pencil on the canvas, the basic shapes, before I set to work mixing pigments on my palette.

  I worked until the light failed and I found myself squinting at the canvas. I looked up at the clear sky and sighed, wishing I had an hour or two more but having to give it up, for now. Oz came up behind me, ice rattling against the sides of a mason jar and I turned smiling appreciatively, accepting the iced tea he offered and sipping at the sweet brew.

  “Thanks,” I murmured. “Where did you get the ice?”

  “We been here a minute, baby. Everleigh got ice going in the freezer just as soon as they turned the power on in the cabin. Plenty of time for the trays to freeze over.”

  “Oh, wow, I guess I didn’t realize we’d been here that long.”

  He looked over my shoulder and nodded slowly. “Nice,” he declared and I smiled.

  “Call me inspired,
it’s beautiful out here.”

  “Yeah, it’s not half bad,” he agreed and I laughed.

  “You’re a city boy through and through, aren’t you?”

  “Guilty as charged,” he said with a reckless grin.

  “You catch us some dinner?” I asked.

  “Me? Not so much, but I had some fun trying. Driller and Narcos caught a few, though, so we won’t be going hungry tonight.” He winked at me and I looked back over my shoulder. The rest of our little party sat around an outdoor firepit style cowboy grill, the fish wrapped in foil on the coals, beers in hand. Everleigh was smiling in our direction but they were far enough away I couldn’t make out what Driller was saying as he stirred the coals with a poker.

  Whatever it was, Narcos grinned and Everleigh brightened considerably.

  “Bugs are gonna be coming out soon,” Oz said. “We got some citronella candles going. Why don’t you come on now and pack it in?”

  “Okay,” I said softly.

  I packed it in, intent on coming back out to paint some more the next day, weather permitting. When I joined everyone by the fire, it was to soft greetings and an almost intimate kinship. It reminded me of family camping trips when Mia and I were kids. Of long car trips and making s’mores. It evoked good memories long forgotten and I was grateful for that. To remember something good amid all of the bad come my family’s way.

  Dinner was lovely, the star-shot sky even more so, and all too soon I found the day’s events, hell, all of the things, catching up to me. The alcohol from the beers with dinner definitely didn’t help things. So, with a full belly and sagging eyelids, I begged off in favor of an early night.

  “You know what? That sounds like a plan. I think all of us are a little beat,” Driller said kindly.

  Everleigh leapt to her feet excitedly and held out her hand to me, waving me on excitedly. I laughed a bit at her sudden enthusiasm and looked to Oz.

  “Well, go on!” he said. “Don’t keep the lady waiting.”

  I took her hand and let her drag me along to the stairs leading up to the corner of the wrap-around, screened-in porch. We went up the two flights of switchback stairs and she pushed open the screen door on the landing.

  “Oh!” I declared, when she swept her arm out from her body in a grand revealing gesture and I was duly impressed.

  A day bed had been brought out onto the porch, old apple crates set on end to serve as end tables. Citronella candles winked in every available rustic container from old tin cans, to jelly jars, and even crafted from an old chipped earthenware bowl or two.

  I went to the bed and sank down onto its edge and asked, “This is for us?”

  Everleigh nodded excitedly, and with her auburn red hair and the excitement in her eyes it reminded me of a certain little mermaid. I smiled and asked, “Can I hug you?”

  She laughed and came over and hugged me tight, Narcos, who was leaning a shoulder against one of the porch roof’s supports said, “It’s cooler out here. Thought you could use it. I know city boy down there can’t live without his air conditioning.”

  He rolled his eyes but the joke was on him. Oz was on the stairs and called up, “I heard that!”

  “Don’t believe I was trying to hide it,” Narcos said coolly.

  “Yeah, fuck you.”

  “Didn’t think you swung that way, brother.”

  “Nuh-uh, I ain’t into all that gay shit you and Driller get up to,” he said and Narcos looked over his shoulder at Oz, flashing a grin.

  “Oh, stahhhhhp,” he gave an effeminate wave and Oz laughed.

  “You fucker.”

  “Can’t shame a guy that ain’t got none,” Driller called out. “Now you wanna make a hole?”

  “Why, you wanna fuck it?” Oz asked and Everleigh and I exchanged a roll of eyes at the guy’s ceaseless banter.

  “You know me,” Driller said edging past Oz in the doorway, “I’ll fuck anything.”

  “Now I know that’s right,” Oz declared.

  A low sweeping chuckle went through the lot of us and Narcos stepped past where I sat and put an arm around Everleigh’s waist.

  “We’ll let you two get comfortable and settle in.”

  “Thank you,” I said softly.

  “Bathroom’s inside, only door in the place besides the front door,” Driller said on his way past.

  “Thanks.” I smiled up at him.

  “You stay put, baby. I’ll go get our bags.” Oz bent down and kissed me on his way by and I drew in a slow steady breath full of beeswax and citronella and smiled, looking out over the backyard, the stars in the sky, the flicker of the fire down below, the faint shimmer of the water moving slowly by beyond it all but before the deep black of the wood.

  God, I needed this… I thought to myself and was overwhelmed with gratitude.

  Oz returned and handed me my bag and motioned around the corner from the windows. I smiled and bit my bottom lip. I hadn’t considered changing out here, but it was vaguely naughty, and I liked the idea.

  I went around the corner and stripped down, sliding my sleep shorts up my legs and pulling the ribbed cotton tank over my head.

  I stepped back around to Oz already stripped to his boxers and tucked beneath the light quilt on the bed. His arms open, he threw back the blankets to let me into the bed and I joined him.

  We settled in the circle of each other’s arms and lay quietly, listening to the insect song and the three of them get ready for bed. The playful slap of a hand against flesh, the light yip and feminine laughter that followed made Oz and I both chuckle faintly. The good mood of our travel companions infectious to a degree.

  We listened to the bed creak, the sounds of them settling, then different sounds began. A light, soft, feminine moan, the gentle wet sucking sound of an intense kiss, a masculine chuckle.

  I held my breath and looked up at Oz who was staring at me fixedly, an amused smile on his lips.

  “Are they?”

  “I told you they were freaky.”

  “I heard that!” Narcos called through the open windows and screen door.

  “Y’all are more than welcome to come in here and join us,” Driller called, and the invitation was punctuated by Everleigh’s high and lilting laugh.

  “Mm-mm, I don’t share,” Oz declared.

  “Fine, stay out there and fuck,” Narcos called and you could hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

  Oz raised his eyebrows and said low enough for only me to hear, “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  I felt my mouth drop open in surprise, but it was quickly stifled by his mouth on mine, his hand sliding down my body, dipping below my waistband, fingertips teasing my clit and getting me all worked up.

  I moaned into his mouth, my hips rising off the bed to meet his hand, my own hand delving below the waistband of his boxer briefs to wrap sure fingers around his velvety cock. I stroked him as he stroked me, putting a little twist in my wrist causing him to moan into my mouth.

  I sucked on his tongue, rolled the sound in my mouth like candy – decadent like rich dark chocolate as we worked each other up.

  My nipples tightened, pebbling beneath the thin cotton-blend tank I wore. He palmed one of my breasts over the material, pinching one swollen and sensitive peak between thumb and the side of his palm, rolling it between them, making me writhe just as the rhythmic creaking of the bed inside started up, Everleigh giving a throaty moan of pleasure.

  Oh, my God… there was something about that sound. Something erotic that deepened the fire of my desire, sending it coursing out through my veins, flooding out from my middle. My pussy throbbed, contracted and pulsed with a deep and abiding need to be filled and there was only one man present I wanted to fill it.

  “Oz, please,” I whispered, nipping his earlobe even as his teeth scraped lightly, grazing my shoulder in a tender love bite.

  “I got you, babe,” he whispered against my skin, but he wouldn’t be rushed.

  He tortured me sweetly, even as the sou
nds of sex intensified within the cabin. I rolled and Oz let me, lying on his back as I slipped my sleep shorts and panties off, pushing his boxer-briefs down in front.

  “Side pocket of my bag,” he said from between clenched teeth and I leaned way over the side of the bed, dragging his bag across the area rug they’d lain on the porch beneath our bed.

  It left my pussy exposed to him, my ass up, and Oz took advantage – massaging my most intimate parts, teasing my asshole with his thumb, delving his fingers through the slick wetness collecting at my pussy.

  God, I was so wet. It took everything in me not to pause. Not to writhe against his hand, not to get him to finger fuck me for the immediate pleasure, to take the easy route to orgasm.

  No, I wanted his dick. I wanted him to stretch me. I wanted him deep inside me as I rode him. I wanted to look down upon him, his hands on my tits as I teased my clit myself and came around him. I wanted to make myself come again and again until I was drunk on his love and the ecstasy and couldn’t take anymore.

  Until I floated on that river of pure warm bliss that was afterglow to the sounds of the real running water just yards away, lulled by the lullaby of insect song and Oz’s panting breath.

  Everleigh cried out from just inside the cabin and my pussy constricted around Oz’s invading fingers. I echoed her cry with a sultry moan of my own and faltered in my purpose, pausing, letting him finger me, the condom gripped in my hand.

  “You better get up here and get that on me,” he said in his demanding way and I lived for it.

  I crawled back up on the bed and straddled him, candlelight glowing against our skins as I tore the condom open with my teeth. I watched him, watching me, writhing, my hips rising and falling under his kneading hands as I was too worked up to hold still. I rolled the sticky condom with its spermicidal lubricant down his length, making eye contact the whole while.

  “Ride me, baby,” he ordered, and his voice was filled with the tight, barely controlled grit of a man who was on the edge.

  I put him at my opening and worked him inside me slowly, watching his face as my hair fell around me. With the light summer breeze against my naked skin, the glow of the candlelight, the soft rhythmic panting and light feral moans emanating from Everleigh’s throat as we both gave and took our pleasure. I felt freer than I ever had ever in my life before.