Marley purses her lips and tilts her head. “Good thing I just did my lady-scaping.” She unhooks her bra and swings it around a few times before letting it fly across the room and land on my banister. Next she hooks her thumbs in her tiny panties and slides them down her legs.
“Jesus, you are smokin’ hot under all those crazy clothes,” Kennedy says.
Marley grins. “Sex does a body good, love. Now, here I go.”
We all follow her to the front door, where she throws it open, slowly walks down the porch steps and gets to the sidewalk. Once there, she takes off in a sprint around the cul de sac, waving at each house as if people are there cheering her on. By the time she makes it back to my place we are all dying with laughter.
“Fuck, it’s brass monkeys out!” she says, running past us and into the house. She shimmies back into her clothes as we all file inside. “Enjoy the show, ladies?”
“That was insane,” Kennedy says.
“Don’t get too impressed, love. It’s your turn. Truth or dare?” Marley asks, pulling a quilt from the back of my sofa and throwing it over herself.
“Dare,” Kennedy says without even thinking about it.
“Go jump in the lake.”
“What?” I screech, realizing that even my screeching is a bit slurred.
“Fine,” Kennedy says. Alarm bells go off in my head. This is a bad idea. She’ll freeze or drown or something worse.
Regardless of my worries, within minutes we’re all outside, wrapped in blankets at the end of my dock. It’s pretty dark, so all we can see is my backyard and a few feet out into the lake.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say.
“Yeah, Kennedy. It’s too cold,” Reagan chimes in.
“I’m not doing it,” Kennedy says. “We’re doing it. If I go in, we all go in. Deal?”
“You want me to get in that freezing water after running about the neighborhood stark naked?” Marley asks, her hands on her hips. She shrugs. “Okay.”
“Stella? Reagan?” Kennedy asks, throwing off her blanket and toeing off her shoes. Marley does the same.
I think about all the risks and what the old Stella would do. I decide I don’t care. “I’ll do it.”
“What?” Reagan says. “I thought you were my one voice of reason here.”
“Fuck reason,” I say. “Let’s have some fun!”
Reagan and I drop our blankets and kick off our shoes. The four of us stand at the end of the dock holding hands staring off into the darkness. We’re laughing so hard, no one can focus.
“Are we sure we want to do this?” Reagan asks.
“On three,” Kennedy says.
“One, two,” I count.
“Three!” we all shout and dive off the dock into the icy water.
The temperature shocks me sober and I regret this decision immediately. We all come up screaming and yelling and cursing—but still laughing. We take turns climbing the ladder out of the lake and when we’re all soaked and frozen standing on my dock, a blinding light comes on next door.
Lane is standing at the end of his dock, Chap at his feet, applauding. Reagan squeals. I grab our blankets while Kennedy gets the shoes before we all take off running for my house. Marley flips Lane off and then blows him a kiss.
That night, still drunk and high on woman power and the tightest of friendships, we all snuggle up in my king size bed and fall asleep with smiles on our faces.
14
AFTER EVERYONE WOKE up and dragged themselves home, I jumped in the shower hoping it would bring me back to life. While last night was necessary and so much fun, I’m regretting the amount of wine I consumed. I stand in the hot shower letting the steam rehydrate my body while thinking about our girls night. I grin to myself, so lucky to have found a new tribe so far away from home.
Just as I finish blow drying my hair, Brea calls. I answer, pressing the button for speaker and lay my phone on the bathroom countertop.
“Hello, dear,” I groan.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asks.
“I’m hungover.” I apply my tinted moisturizer and a little mascara to help me appear less like a zombie.
“Ha! No way. Stella Elizabeth Locke is hungover? I wish I was there to see it. And make you miserable.” I can just picture her face while saying this. I bet it’s the same look she used to get as kids when I had my friends over and she wanted to hang out with us.
“Thanks,” I say, picking up the phone and carrying it to my closet while I flip through my clothes.
“What are you up to today?” she asks. I hear her smacking her lips.
“Are you always eating?”
“These days, yes. It’s like I can’t get full. Between mom grocery shopping for me and bringing home healthy snacks and Heath giving me the eye everytime I shove a brownie in my mouth, I’m dying from shame. But does that stop me? Heck no.”
I chuckle. “I’m going out on Lane’s boat with him today. Should be fun. I just have no idea what to wear and I’m worried about getting sick with this hangover.”
“Ohhhh. Mr. Hotpants has a boat? Of course he has a boat,” she says. “Just take some ibuprofen and chug a Gatorade. You’ll be fine. I know recovery time at your age has got to be slow.”
“Kiss my ass, Brea.”
“Remember that time I actually did?”
“Hanging up now.”
“Byeeeee,” she says, giggling.
I toss the phone onto my bed and take a closer look at my wardrobe choices. Between a few visits to Hamilton Bay and Marley’s help with online shopping, I’ve got some cute pieces. I choose a maroon knit maxi dress with an ombre fade into burnt orange and a creme cardigan. Ballet flats finish the look. I feel comfortable but confident as I check my reflection in the mirror.
After pulling my hair back into a cute braid, I slip into my shoes, place my phone in my pocket and walk next door. As soon as Lane’s door opens, Chap runs out to greet me. I bend down and give him some belly scratches after he rolls onto his back. When I look up at Lane, he’s grinning at me. The sight of his handsome face still sends me reeling.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he says, kissing my lips. I raise my sunglasses to the top of my head and grab onto his shoulders, deepening the innocent kiss. When I’m satisfied with his taste on my tongue, I end the impromptu makeout session with a quick peck on the lips. “Well, damn. That’s a greeting I can get behind.”
I laugh and follow him inside with Chap trailing behind. “Sorry if I’m a little sluggish today. I may have had a tad too much wine last night.”
Lane spins to face me in his kitchen. “Really now? I wouldn’t have guessed with the way you all just jumped in a freezing cold lake last night.”
I run my hands over the cool granite countertops and lean on my elbows. “Ha, ha. Not the best decision ever made. It took us forever to warm up. But you only live once, right?”
“So true,” Lane agrees, picking up a canvas bag and throwing on a jacket. “You ready?”
I nod and follow him out the back door, down to his dock. Chap’s excitement is contagious as we approach Lane’s boat. I smile as he helps me on board, hands over the bag and then tosses Chap in. Lane unties the boat and climbs on, taking a seat behind the wheel. I take a seat in the plush chair next to him as he starts the engine. Chap barks and runs around in circles, before climbing up to the bow of the boat.
We take off, slowly at first and then Lane gives me a wink as he pushes the throttle forward, giving us some speed. The cold air pushes against me and I can feel my skin becoming chilled in the shade of the overhead canopy. I stand and move to the front of the boat, next to Chap, so that I can get some sun.
It’s not long before we slow down and come to a stop, Lane dropping anchor. Chap moves to the back of the boat onto a small doggie bed just for him. He curls up in the sun and closes his eyes. Lane turns on some music and pulls a cooler from the canvas bag, handing over a cold bottle of water.
“You’ll probably need this
,” he says. “But I have wine if you just want to dive back in.”
I laugh. “Water is fine.” He takes a seat next to me and as the boat gently rocks in the lake water, I feel myself getting sleepy.
“Are you going to fall asleep on me?” he asks. “I bet you’re exhausted.”
I cover a yawn and lean into his side. “I’m okay.”
“Why don’t you lay down?” he says. “You and Chap can nap while I answer some emails.”
“Noooo,” I say. “I’m okay. I’m good. I want to see your face and have the words with you.”
He laughs. “The words? What words should we have?”
I lift one shoulder, but it’s lazy. “The good, sexy vocabulary words.”
Lane leans closer, his lips at my ear. “Ubiquitous. Cacophony. Perfunctory. Dichotomy.”
I hum in approval and grin. “Now the words where you tell me your deepest, darkest secret.”
“You must think I’m much more interesting than I actually am,” Lane says, leaning back against the seat. “I have no secrets.” He’s silent for a few seconds. “Though my therapist says I may have issues with male role models and fear of abandonment. But I figure those are pretty obvious.”
I nod. “I still can’t imagine doing that. I mean, I’ve always wanted kids, so I can’t imagine putting a man before my own flesh and blood.” I sit up taller and cover a yawn. “I’m sorry. You probably don’t need to hear that. I don’t know your mom, but I kind of hate her.”
Lane shrugs, but I see sadness pull down over his face. “I kind of hate her too.” He shakes his head and swallows down his water. “But you know what? I wouldn’t have had the life I have if she would have stayed. And I had a good life, Stella. My granny? Well, she’s the very definition of love. I might have been abandoned, but I never felt that way.”
“That’s good,” I say, cupping his jaw. “This Granny? Her, I like. I’m glad she gave you what you needed. What an amazing lady.”
“You have no idea,” he answers as I cover another yawn.
“Here,” he says, scooping me up and laying me across one of the bench seats in the shade. He pulls a blanket from one of the boat’s compartments and lays it over me. Lane slides in next to me and lays my head on his lap. “Comfy?” he asks.
“Mmmm,” is all I can muster. I try to fight to stay awake, but with Lane raking his fingers over the skin of my shoulders and the gentle rocking of the boat, I soon fall asleep.
A moaning sound wakes me up. It comes again and I realize it is my own raspy voice. As consciousness takes hold bit by bit, I realize that I am alone on the bench, but that something feels very, very good. I tip my head up to find Lane kneeling on the floor of the boat, his head between my legs. He has my dress pushed up to my thighs while he places warm, wet kisses on the inside of my knees working his way up.
“Good afternoon, sleepy head,” he says, pressing more kisses to my inner thighs. “I just couldn’t let you sleep anymore. Your little whimpers were driving me wild. Did you have a good dream?”
I shake my head even though he’s not looking. “I don’t remember.” Unconsciously, I spread my legs further apart. When he finally reaches my panties, I am a mess. All that teasing has me so worked up I want to scream or explode or everything at once. His teeth scrape over my flesh and I gasp, my fingers clawing at the bench.
Lane’s fingers wrap around the thin material of my panties and he starts to edge them down ever so slowly—too slowly. “Is this okay?” he asks, his words represented as hot breath against my pussy.
“Yes,” I breathe out. “This is very okay.”
He removes my panties and without any warning, his hot mouth attaches to my body. I suck in a breath, my back bowing off of the bench below, as his tongue slides along my slit. This sensation is euphoric and brand new. My ex had always complained about oral sex unless it was happening to him, so eventually I stopped asking. But this is something bigger and better than I’ve ever experienced, and completely off the pleasure charts.
Lane presses his tongue against my clit, holding it there until my entire body relaxes. Just when he’s lulled me into this state, he flicks his tongue back and forth while his lips form a suction. The sensation is overwhelming. I buck my hips to get closer, to pull away. My head swims and I am floating as he works me over. My breaths come faster now as he expertly laps at me. Lane throws one arm over my stomach to hold my writhing body in place while his other moves between my legs, pushing two fingers inside my wetness.
“Fuck,” I hiss, as he fills me so sweetly and continues ravishing me with his talented mouth. “Lane. I’m going to cum. Oh god.” I squeeze my eyes shut as the swirling sensation centers around where we’re connected and pulses out so that I feel it reach my fingertips and my toes. “Yes!” I scream, when the orgasm takes over. I move against him, riding his face and he doesn’t let up for a second. Every muscle in my body pulls tight as I finally still against him.
I open my eyes while white spots dance in my vision. Slapping a hand to my chest, I try to catch my breath. Turning my head, I find Chap sitting up in his bed watching us and it makes me chuckle. Lane is still between my thighs, placing soft kisses against my pussy, slowly licking my wet flesh. A gust of wind blows through and it feels like ice against my heated, wet skin. I slide my hand into his hair and tug, needing to see him, to be closer.
Lane comes to me without hesitation. His body covers mine and when he kisses me, I taste myself on his lips and tongue. I’ve never tasted myself and I can say, that mixed with Lane, is a consuming aphrodisiac that kick-starts my libido all over again.
“I could do that all day,” he says, kissing down my neck and whispering into my ear. “You taste like sweet Georgia honeysuckle and sex.” It’s then I register another sound. It’s an approaching boat engine. I snap up to a sitting position, practically throwing Lane onto the floor. He laughs before taking a seat next to me and throwing an arm around my shoulder while I pull my dress down and cover us with the blanket.
The boat slows down and comes to a stop, it’s wake rocking us. Chap trots to the end of his bench and hangs his head over the side to investigate.
“Lane,” a middle-aged man with jet black hair says. He’s got aviator sunglasses on and a large fishing hat. “I thought that was your boat. Didn’t see anyone aboard,” he shouts. “Thought it may have slipped loose from your dock again.”
Lane waves back. “Nope. We’re here. Though it is a bit slippery,” he says with his charming smile while my clit still pulses from our previous activities. My hand slides under the blanket to his lap and I run my fingers down the length of his hardness. I feel his body tense and he lets out a little grunt.
The man laughs, having no idea what is funny. “Who’s your friend?” he asks.
“This is Stella,” Lane says. “My new neighbor. I was just showing her around a bit.”
“I’m afraid you caught us eating,” I say with a wave. “It’s such a nice spread.”
Lane almost chokes, but manages to stifle his laugh. “So good, I’m thinking about seconds,” Lane adds.
The man just stares at us, his expression blank. “Uh, well, don’t go overboard. Don’t want to have to run extra miles tonight, eh?”
“Oh, don’t worry about him,” I say grinning and patting his stomach. “He can just eat and eat and eat and not gain a pound. It’s such a gift.”
When the silence stretches too long, Lane clears his throat. “Well, good to see you, Rich.”
“You too,” he says.
“Tell Cherie I said hello.”
“Will do.” Rich revs the engine and speeds away while we rock back and forth on the waves.
“Well, I’m glad he didn’t come sooner,” I say, still sublimely happy and a little dazed. “Who was that?”
“Richard Lang. He lives just outside town, runs the little pharmacy on Sixth Street.” I trace the outline of his cock with my fingertips. “You’re going to kill me,” he says. “I swear I almost shot
my load when you reached under the blanket.”
He throws the blanket off and pins me down again. “You’re a sweet southern lady, but deep down inside I know there’s a dirty girl just wanting to play.”
“Not that deep down,” I say, wrapping my hands around his biceps. He stares into my eyes and I am transfixed. “Are you going to let me reciprocate this time?” I ask, batting my eyes. My stomach growls so loudly, we both look down.
“Uh, I think we better get some food in you first,” he says, sitting up and grabbing the bag.
My lips form a pout and I groan. “Fine.”
Lane hands over a turkey sandwich, which somehow is the best turkey sandwich I’ve ever had. This man can even impress with cold-cuts and bread. I finish down my water and he hands me a new one.
“Better stay hydrated,” he says with a wink. I roll my eyes, but laugh.
“Hydrated? I’m still loopy after that orgasm. That was the best wake up call I’ve ever had.” He chuckles and takes a bite of his sandwich. I watch him chew, loving the movement of that strong jaw and the tendons in his neck. Realizing it’s weird to watch someone eat, I shove another bite in my mouth. My body is so relaxed, I find it hard to stay upright. I laugh and shake my head.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
I contemplate keeping it to myself, but Lane has a tendency to see through me anyway. I might as well be upfront. “Well, I’ve never had an orgasm from that before.”
His eyes go wide and his mouth freezes mid-chew. “Really?”
“To be fair, my ex hadn’t gone down on me in at least ten years. But when he did, I guarantee it was nothing like that.”
“What was it like?”
I look out over the lake and try to remember, but it’s just a faint memory of complaining and never hitting the right spot. “Like trying to kill a spider in a bathtub—just crazy jabbing and all over the place.”
Lane laughs, covering his mouth so food doesn’t fall out. “Wow,” he says after swallowing. “Maybe I’m only good because you don’t have anything decent to compare it to.”
I shake my head. “No way,” I say, my hands resting in my lap holding my sandwich. “What you did? How you made me feel? That was all very… educated.” Lane grins so wide, it splits his face in half. Pride beams from him as he straightens his shoulders and puffs out his chest. “You’ve definitely got skills.” I leave off the part where his skill level has me a bit concerned about my own when it comes time to give as good as I got.
Changing Lanes Page 16
