Gin Fling: Bootleg Springs Book Five

by Score, Lucy

  Me.

  I wasn’t conscious of moving until I stood before her, until I took her mouth. Only our lips touching. The rest of our bodies a breath apart. Thunder rolled long and low, vibrating between us and through us.

  Then she was drawing me closer, her breasts pressing against the muscle of my chest, fingers digging into my shoulders. Now I was free to touch her.

  I slid my palms down her neck, over her shoulders and down her arms. Thumbs skimming the delectable curves of her breasts.

  My cock, aching and hard, was pinned against the smooth skin of her belly. I wanted so many things in the moment. Too much.

  I wanted to feed on her breasts, making her nipples budded against my tongue. To feel her lips wrap around the crown of my hard dick. To slide two fingers deep inside her. To watch her come. To hear my name whispered when she came. To paint her with my own climax.

  Fuck.

  “Shelby,” I said, pulling away from her eager mouth.

  “Huh? Yeah? Wha?” she breathed. Easing back, her tight nipples dragged lightly through my chest hair. She gasped.

  “I don’t have a condom.”

  Her eyes were wide, dazed. “Me neither.”

  “We can’t—” A lifetime of safe sex lectures from my mother echoed in my head.

  “I’m on birth control. You haven’t had sex in over a year, and I just had a boatload of blood tests a few weeks ago,” she said.

  I was afraid to say anything. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to,” I began.

  “Jonah,” she said my name in exasperation. “I want to have sex with you. Right here. Right now. It’s a green light.”

  “If you’re sure,” I said.

  She responded by grasping my hand and placing it on her breast. I felt her nipple bud against my palm, and every rational, cautious thought dissipated from my head. Cupping both breasts, I rubbed my thumbs over her nipples and reveled in the sigh that broke free from her.

  The rain was light and cool on our skin, but my blood was hot and roiling beneath the surface.

  She used my distraction with her breasts to do her own exploring. She closed a clever hand around the base of my shaft and stroked up. Electric need pulsed through me as she pumped me from root to tip.

  I pinched her nipples gently, and she bit my pec. Then she was sliding down my body.

  I watched her sink to her knees in front of me, her mouth inches from where my cock hung heavily. My nostrils flared as I forced air into my lungs, and then she was closing those perfect pink lips around the head of my dick.

  I’d forgotten this. How slick and sweet a woman’s mouth was. Shelby’s mouth. Because, again, this was different. Special.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she, seemingly enthralled with my taste, licked and sucked her way up and down my cock. This was heaven on Earth, I thought, fisting my hand in her hair and fighting the urge to thrust into that sweet mouth.

  I held back, knowing if I gave in to urge to fuck her mouth, her throat, I’d lose myself there. It had been too long. My endurance wasn’t what it once was. And Shelby was very, very good at what she was doing to me.

  She groaned her disappointment when I pulled her mouth off me. But I silenced it when I took her down to the ground. A bed of leaves and pine needles and discarded clothing. Eagerly, I closed my mouth over a breast sucking, sampling, savoring.

  Her knees fell open welcoming me. And with one hand, I trailed a path up the inside of her thigh. She shivered against me, encouraging me with those sexy little moans. How had I thought I wasn’t ready for this? I could have missed this. And this, I thought, sliding the tips of my fingers through her wet cleft. Every inch of our bodies was wet from the rain. But here where I probed, it was different. Thicker, hotter, and oh so tempting.

  I sank two fingers into her as I sucked rainwater off her other nipple, crossing two items off my list. She bowed up off the ground against me, driving me insane with her reactions to me. And when her fingers closed around my cock again, I let myself go just a little crazy.

  I thrust into her grip, driving my fingers into her sweet pussy in time.

  Our breathing was hard and fast. Her eyes were glassy and half closed. She opened wider for me, inviting me deeper, and I thrust in to the knuckle, holding her there.

  “Jonah,” her teeth chattered. “I want—I want you,” she hissed.

  I could feel her muscles tightening around my fingers, felt that ache echoed in my own groin. Fingers and hands were good. But we both desperately needed more. It was biology. Pure, raw, primal.

  I pulled out of her and took her hand away from my erection. “Hold on to me,” I instructed.

  She did as she was told, slipping her hands behind my neck, linking her fingers.

  I settled my hips between her legs, the tip of my cock brushing the wet, welcoming folds.

  Impatient now, Shelby bucked against me, and I reveled in the feel of my cock slipping over her clit.

  Leaning in, I allowed myself another lick at her breast. And when she bowed back, when her knees fell open, I drove myself into her.

  Our shouts of triumph, of awe, caught on the rain. I was inside her, gripped by her slick, velvety flesh. Muscles quivering, I dug my toes into the ground so I could stay buried inside.

  Her nails bit into my back, and she chanted words, nonsensical sounds, softly as she fought for air. This was Nirvana. This moment of two bodies joining after the teasing, before the fulfillment. This was a recognition of sameness.

  She flexed, tightening around me, and I had to move then. Withdrawing, I paused. Savored. Then decadently slid back inside, needing to feel her close like a fist around me.

  “How does it feel?” she whispered.

  “So good, Shelby. So fucking good,” I promised her, moving again. Loving the drag of her flesh over mine. Was it special because it had been so long? Or was it because it was Shelby? My roommate. My client. My friend.

  “Don’t you dare stop or come to your senses,” she pleaded with a laugh.

  I flinched as the laugh had her tightening further. Sweat already dotted my forehead, and I knew I couldn’t hang on forever. I kept my thrusts measured, controlled. Focusing on the beauty of the joining even as the need to go harder, faster, clawed its way up my throat.

  She hitched her legs higher up on my hips and bucked into me.

  I wanted to give her what she needed, what she craved, what she chased. I just hoped I could hold on long enough. I thrust harder, and she murmured her approval against my neck. Her breasts, those lush curves, were flatted to me, and I wished I could taste them again. I settled for slipping a hand between our bodies and caressing that soft skin, that taut nipple.

  She liked it.

  “Yes, Jonah. Oh, yes!” She was breathless.

  And I was pummeling into her now, pinning her to the forest floor with fast, vicious strokes of my cock. But she welcomed the speed, the need, the greed. Encouraged it with the way those silky inner muscles danced over the veins of my cock.

  She was leading me toward a climax I wasn’t sure I could survive.

  I needed to get her there first.

  With regret, I abandoned her breast and slid my hand lower. As I thrust into her like a warrior, an animal, my thumb slicked over her sensitive bud. Her body tensed, every muscle and her breath stopped.

  I bit at her neck, her shoulder, still thrusting, still circling that beautiful little clit. And then she came back to life under me as her orgasm detonated.

  I felt her come, closing fist-tight around my cock. Her hips undulating to chase down the waves that wracked her body. I couldn’t hold out a second longer. As she clamped down on me again, I felt it race up my spine, stabbing through my balls. And then I was coming harder than I ever had before into her as she teased and squeezed every drop of my release from me. She was still coming in gentle, distant pulses when I collapsed on her, sealing our orgasms together.

  32

  Jonah

  There are few
things more awkward than having sex for the first time and then walking in on your own surprise party.

  I was pretty sure what Shelby and I had been up to was written all over our faces—and tangled up in her hair, judging from the dried pine needles that were still shaking free.

  “Surprise!” My mother, the Bodines, the Tuckers, and the Thompsons bellowed when we climbed off our bikes.

  “Well, there goes Round Two,” Shelby said under her breath.

  Once the rain broke, once we’d dragged our wet clothes back on, we’d pedaled like hell for home. For a shower and a second shot at each other, this time in a bed.

  I stared longingly at the front door. Between it and us were over a dozen people, a pig, and a puppy, ready and waiting to celebrate my birthday.

  Shocked, I slapped a stupid smile on my face and waded in to accept the congratulations. I could tell by the smug look my sister was shooting in my direction that she had guessed exactly what Shelby and I had been up to.

  After accepting the first round of congratulations, I escaped for a five-minute shower during which I thought of nothing but how it felt to be inside Shelby. I turned the faucet all the way to cold until my hard-on finally gave up. Apparently now that the dry spell was over, I was going to be walking around sporting wood all day every day.

  By the time I made it back to our front lawn, the party was in full swing.

  They’d certainly put quite the effort into it. Someone had strung lights around tree trunks. Portable picnic tables were set up covered with white tablecloths. Gibson was manning the grill, Billy Ray sniffing around his feet with Katherine the pig.

  And Shelby, well, Shelby was relaxing in a hammock with a lemonade just on the outside of the action. I made my way to her and gave the hammock a nudge.

  She opened one eye. “Shower free?” she asked.

  My back to the festivities, I trailed a finger up the inside of her thigh. There were so many things I still wanted to do to her, with her.

  “It is. Did you know about this?” I asked.

  “Do you think I would have insisted we come back here for Round Two if I knew there was a yard full of people waiting for us? This is the most disappointing surprise party I’ve ever been to,” she teased.

  “We’ll make up for it tonight,” I promised.

  “What’s that they say about a Bootleg party?” she mused. “Ain’t no party like a Bootleg party?”

  “’Cause a Bootleg party don’t stop,” I finished. “But this one will stop. At a reasonable hour, too, if I have to fake food poisoning to get them out of here.”

  “I’m looking forward to your fake explosive bowel issues later tonight,” she teased.

  She held a hand out to me, and I pulled her out of the hammock. “I’m going to shower. Go make nice with your guests before we kick them out.”

  “Oh, hey, Shelby?”

  She paused.

  I took a step closer to her so no one could overhear. “I’m going to make sure I’m the most memorable summer fling you’ve ever had in your life,” I told her.

  She grinned and bit her lip. “I just might hold you to that.”

  Shelby waved over her shoulder, and I wished more than anything that I was following her up those stairs.

  “So? Were you surprised?” My mother and Scarlett approached, looking smug.

  “Shocked,” I said. “I thought this was going to be a quiet cookout.” That didn’t start for a few more hours and ended at a reasonable hour.

  “Your mama was telling me how you never wanted a party or a fuss over your birthday. Why, Jenny, did I tell you that he neglected to tell us that it was his birthday last year?” Scarlett said, dishing the dirt.

  “You mentioned that,” Mom said, winking at me.

  “And I just couldn’t let another year pass without us giving Jonah a proper birthday party. He’s only owed thirty-one of them,” Scarlett said.

  It was oddly sweet. Still, incredibly inconvenient. But I guessed I could put forth the effort to appreciate their work.

  When Shelby returned, in a frothy sundress that teased the eye as it floated around her thighs, I was engaged in a horseshoes battle with my brothers.

  Someone had turned the music on to, what was that? Eighties rock? I supposed my birthday got a reprieve from the country music so preferred in Olamette County.

  We ate—someone had been kind enough to make grilled chicken and provide salad fixings in addition to the standard artery-clogging cookout fare—and drank and shot the shit.

  Jimmy Bob Prosser made an appearance, presenting me with a gift certificate for his hardware store and a stolen kiss on the cheek from my mother before he left. She beamed after him, and I found myself unable to be anything but happy for her.

  Now, if the guy went and broke her heart, I’d be enlisting my brothers for some Bootleg Justice. It was only fair.

  A pickup bounced down the driveway and pulled into the grass next to Gibson’s SUV. Jameson and Leah Mae, both beaming brighter than the sun, linked hands and strolled our way. I nudged Bowie next to me, pointed my beer bottle.

  “Well, well. Here come the soon-to-be newly engaged,” Bowie observed.

  Jameson’s imminent proposal plans were still cloaked in mystery. But it made my day even brighter, knowing that another brother was marching happily toward his future.

  George and Shelby’s parents were enthusiastic about the chaos and made plans to attend Tuesday’s Cockspurs game. Devlin stepped in when Scarlett batted her lashes and tried to recruit them to the team. He’d fallen for it once before and paid a very steep hangover price.

  When evening fell and the string lights twinkled on, Mom and Shelby marched out a cake with sparklers and candles. The Bodines serenaded me with the worst, off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday” I’d ever heard in my life.

  Little Billy Ray howled along with them. It was awful and beautiful.

  I laughed and smiled. Ate and drank. Embarrassed, I opened gifts, both gag and thoughtful. And I watched Shelby at the opposite end of the table.

  I caught her eye, and the slow, sweet smile on her face warmed something in me that had been cold for too long.

  And then I took an elbow to the gut.

  “Looks like someone took his pants off today.” Scarlett grinned up at me, a cat that ate the canary.

  “I don’t kiss and tell,” I said, slinging an arm around her shoulder.

  “No, but you kiss and moon around with puppy dog eyes. She’s a nice girl, Jonah. I approve.”

  “You practically picked her out for me. I should hope you’d approve,” I teased.

  “Now listen, I know this is all new to you. But y’all should probably define exactly what this is because news will be all over town by tomorrow.”

  “You mean, you’re going to open your big, fat mouth and tell everyone in town that I’m dating Shelby,” I corrected her.

  “Dating, huh? I can get behind that.”

  “Even if it’s none of your business.”

  “Why, Jonah Bodine. You’re my brother. Your happiness is my business.”

  “Just don’t start any wedding plans, Scar. Shelby doesn’t plan to stick around past the end of summer.”

  “What about you?” she asked. “And before you even think about answering, you better not be considering leaving. Why, I brought your mama all the way out here to make her fall in love with this town.”

  “You’re a diabolical puppet master, Scarlett Rose.”

  She beamed up at me. “If it’s a crime to want my family to be happy and all together, then put me on death row.”

  “You’re ridiculous.”

  “I found my happily ever after,” she said, eyes flying to where Devlin and Jameson were deep in discussion. “Jameson and Leah Mae, Bowie and Cassidy, they found theirs, too. You can have a good life here.”

  I nodded. “I know it. But I’m just not one thousand percent sure yet.”

  “Well, you’ll have more incentive once I get your mama m
arried off and moved in here,” she predicted.

  * * *

  As darkness fell, I noticed Bowie sneak off toward the shadows to take a phone call. I could see the tension in his shoulders, and something told me it wasn’t good news.

  I excused myself from the table where James and Darlene were recounting one of their recent home renovation horror stories to Scarlett, who insisted that the next time they needed some plumbing done they call her first.

  Bowie was standing there staring down at his phone when I got to him.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He looked, up and I knew.

  “Fuck,” I said quietly.

  “It was Jayme. Dental records were a match. It’s Callie.”

  Behind us, laughter erupted as Gibson and Jameson vied to tell my mom about their attempt at ice fishing when they were kids.

  “This doesn’t change anything,” I said, knowing full well that it changed everything. Callie Kendall was dead. And so were the hopes of an entire community.

  “It doesn’t mean that Dad did it,” Bowie said, sounding even less confident than me.

  “No. It doesn’t.”

  “Jayme says they’re keeping the news under wraps for a few days.”

  I watched my mom dab tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes with a napkin. Now, Scarlett was slow dancing with Devlin, looking up at him like he was the sun and the moon and everything in between.

  Shelby was leaning into her father’s arm, laughing at some story he was telling June.

  “Let’s not ruin this,” I said. “Everyone’s having a good time. I’d rather keep it that way for another night.” It was selfish. But there wasn’t anything any of us could do about poor Callie Kendall. And this was my first family birthday party ever.

  Bowie squeezed my shoulder. “Happy birthday, brother.”

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  33

  All of Bootleg Springs

  “Did y’all hear the news?”