Clean Slate

by Isla Olsen

  Jesse casts a narrowed glance in the direction of the bar before releasing a disgruntled huff. “Please, I’ve seen better looking slugs,” he says with no small dose of disdain dripping from his voice.

  Lawson’s brows shoot up in surprise. “You know, Jess, I just don’t think that’s true.”

  I shake my head in exasperation as I watch Jesse scowl into his scotch and soda. Jesse and Web are the same age, and growing up they were always the best of friends. Practically inseparable. I have no idea what happened to cause it, but at some point during high school everything changed. Now even the merest mention of Webster Goode is enough to darken Jesse’s mood.

  “How’s David?” I ask, hoping the change of subject will liven Jesse up.

  It does.

  “He’s great,” Jesse says, smiling brightly. “He wanted to come this weekend, but he has to work.”

  With great effort, I manage not to groan. Or roll my eyes. Or glance at Lawson to see his reaction…

  David always has to work. And if it’s not work, it’s a trip he can’t possibly get out of. Or an important engagement that he’s only just remembered he has. Or a sudden aversion to the food served at the restaurant I’ve booked after Jesse assured me it’s one of David’s favorites.

  They’ve been together three years and I’ve met the guy twice. Both times were when I was visiting New York. Both times were at their apartment. Once was when I showed up fifteen minutes early to pick Jesse up and David was rushing out the door mumbling something about a sick aunt, and the other was when we hit a bar after dinner one time and saw his ‘important work function’ was code for pounding shots with his friends.

  Needless to say, I’m not a fan of the guy. But Jesse loves him and if he makes my brother happy I guess that’s all that matters. Besides, who am I to judge, really? It was only two weeks ago that I caught the man I’d thought was so perfect screwing a nineteen-year-old named Piedro.

  It’s a clichéd statement, I know, but Ted’s funeral service is lovely. Each of his four sons speak, telling stories that are equal parts sweet, sad, and hilarious. As I listen to them, I’m filled with that same sense of regret that I didn’t get back to visit more often since moving away, but I guess there’s no point in dwelling on that now.

  After the service, it feels like the entire town heads back to Walker and Genevieve’s—Slater’s parents—place for a rather rowdy wake featuring hamburgers, ribs, and way too much alcohol.

  “Jesus, when did Tucker Goode become a giant?” I mutter, watching in awe as the youngest of our generation of Goodes crosses the backyard to join a conversation between his sister Everley and a girl I don’t recognize.

  Jesse chuckles beside me. “When was the last time you saw him?”

  “I don’t know. Clearly not for a while.” Tucker used to be a miniature version of Slater; now he’d be at least several inches taller than his brother. And Slater’s already over six feet himself.

  “Is every member of this family descended from Greek gods?” Lawson asks, gazing at Tucker with unmistakable interest.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I warn. “He’s only twenty.” I don’t add the part about Tucker being straight; that’d only interest Lawson further.

  Law gives a lazy one-shouldered shrug. “It’s legal.”

  “Slater would kill you,” I tell him.

  Lawson chuckles. “You’d avenge me, wouldn’t you?”

  Grinning, Jesse says, “I’d be more worried about Ax. He’s the hot-head of the family.”

  “Which one’s he again?” Lawson asks.

  “Slater’s older brother,” I say, pointing Axel out and rolling my eyes as Law whistles through his teeth. “Can you try not springing a boner right now? We’re at a wake.”

  “Z, the guy died having sex. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

  “Alright, Zack, Lawson, you two need to do shots!” George commands, appearing seemingly out of nowhere holding up two shot glasses, both filled with clear liquid.

  Lawson takes one without question, but I’m more hesitant. “Why, exactly, do we need to do this?”

  “Those are the rules,” George explains. “Anyone who mentions sex, or anything related to it has to drink a shot.”

  I screw my face up in confusion. “What? That’s crazy. How are you possibly going to police that?”

  George offers a wicked grin. “We have spies in every conversation, man.”

  With a roll of my eyes, I take the shot from his hand. Across the room, I see Slater and Chance are suffering the same treatment, with Tansie watching over them like a hawk as they down their shots. Damn, he looks good in that suit… the thought spurs me out of my hesitation and I lift the shot to my lips, wincing at the taste of the tequila. Of course, it had to be tequila…

  “Nice job,” George says with a nod, as though Lawson and I have achieved something spectacular by swallowing an ounce and a half of tequila. “But can I just express how disappointed and hurt I am that it was Axel who gave you that boner?” he says, eyeing Lawson with big, mournful eyes. “I mean, look at that. And then look at this…” He gestures lazily to Axel before gliding his hand in a seductive motion down the side of his leanly muscled frame and then over what I can objectively admit is a pretty nice ass. His expression turns playful as he says, “Are you telling me you wouldn’t rather get with this?”

  Jesse and I are both shaking with laughter as, for once in his life, Lawson seems at a complete loss for what to say.

  “By your own rules you have to take a shot now,” I say to George. “I mean, I’m assuming talking about boners and rubbing your own ass counts as being sex-related?”

  George chuckles, grinning broadly. “Good point. But at least I get to take you down with me.”

  I groan as I realize my fatal mistake, while George lifts a hand to get Tansie’s attention and calls for two shots.

  This is going to be a long day.

  10

  From the private Facebook group ‘Finchley Locals Community Hangout’

  * * *

  Post by Missy Clarke: *eggplant emoji* *eggplant emoji* *eggplant emoji*

  Gunner Clarke reply to Missy Clarke’s post: Mom! Stop! What are you doing???

  Missy Clarke reply to Gunner Clarke’s comment: What? I like eggplants

  Kip Goode reply to Missy Clarke’s comment: Me too, Mrs. C *wink emoji*

  Gunner Clarke reply to Missy Clarke’s comment: *face palm emoji*

  * * *

  Slater

  * * *

  “Ooh, honey, you need to do a shot!” my mom cries.

  My brow furrows in confusion. I’d been chatting to Beth Bowry about one of her recipes; there had definitely been no mention whatsoever of sex. “What are you talking about?”

  “You said the ‘E’ word,” Mom says, as though she’s a detective who’s caught me in an elaborate lie.

  “Eggplant?” I ask, still confused. “Mom, Beth and I were talking about her eggplant lasagna recipe.”

  Mom shakes her head. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Slater. I know what that emoji means.”

  Next to her, Missy Clarke is wearing an entirely characteristic look of confusion on her face. “What does it mean?”

  “It means ‘cock’, Missy,” Mom explains. “It’s what you use when you’re texting to represent a penis.”

  I bring a hand up to cover my face. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even want to know how you know that.”

  “From when your father and I sext, of course,” Mom says, clearly not registering the part about me not wanting to know.

  A look of dawning comprehension crosses Missy’s face. “Well, that…explains some things. Why an eggplant, though? I would have thought a zucchini would be more accurate…”

  Okay, I need to eject myself from this conversation right now. I excuse myself and head into the house to use the bathroom. Finding the downstairs one occupied, I head upstairs instead.

  I’m just about to knock on the door when it swings
open and I find myself face-to-face with Zack. I stare at him for a long moment, and he stares back, the air between us growing more and more charged as neither of us seems to be able to look away.

  Eventually, he moves. But it’s not to brush past me. It’s to reach out, grab my tie, and tug me into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me and pressing me up against it.

  His lips on mine are achingly familiar, and despite my surprise I respond instantly. I wrap my arms around his waist, tugging him closer and bending my head down farther so I can deepen the kiss. It’s intense, and intoxicating. And so, so perfect.

  Finally, Zack tears his lips from mine, breathing heavily as he stares up at me with wide eyes, as though he can’t quite believe what just happened. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  I arch an eyebrow at him. “Why did you?”

  He hesitates for a moment, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip in a way that almost makes me groan out loud. “Tequila makes me do dumb things.”

  I let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah? Like what?”

  “Like…TPing my boss’s office and getting myself fired…”

  My brows shoot up in surprise. That is so not something I’d ever picture Zack doing. “Did he deserve it at least?”

  Zack shrugs. “Well, I walked in on him screwing his nineteen-year-old intern, so…”

  I wince. “Yeah, not a great boss.”

  “And we were dating at the time, so not a great boyfriend either.”

  I don’t let it show on my face, but I’m secretly planning to track this asshole down and cause him immense physical pain for hurting Zack like that. But right now I simply offer Zack an impressed smile. “Well, in that case, I think TPing his office was a very smart move. Just like kissing me.”

  Zack rolls his eyes, but I don’t give him a chance to respond as I crash my lips back against his in a needy, desperate kiss. He doesn’t hesitate or try to pull away, instead sinking into the kiss and allowing me to spin us around so he’s the one pinned against the wall.

  I shove my thigh between his legs, groaning softly against his lips as I feel his hard cock rubbing against me.

  “Tell me,” I murmur as I move my kisses to Zack’s neck, loving the way he practically purrs as one of my hands slides into the back of his pants.

  “What?” he asks, almost panting.

  I slide my fingers over his crease before running them slowly around his ring. “Tell me the truth,” I clarify as I continue to tease him. “Why did you really kiss me?”

  Zack’s head falls back against the closed bathroom door and he lets out a shaky breath, his eyes screwing shut as he pants, “Fuck, Jesus, fuck…”

  With a soft chuckle, I withdraw my hand from his pants and spit on my fingers. Then I return them to Zack’s ass, pushing inside his hole and damn near exploding from the combination of having part of my body inside his tight heat, and the rumbling groan of pleasure he lets out as I breach him.

  His fingers dig into my shoulders, his hips jutting madly into my thigh as I continue to finger his ass.

  “Tell me, Zack,” I command.

  “Because I fucking wanted to!” He finally admits on a gasped breath.

  My mouth curves into a satisfied grin and I lean in to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “That wasn’t so hard to admit, was it?”

  “I seriously hate you,” he growls, before letting out another strangled groan as I twist my hand a little.

  “Tell me the rest, baby,” I murmur. “You know what I want to hear.”

  “Slater…”

  I lift my focus to his face, staring deep into his eyes and practically forcing him to answer with the intensity of my gaze.

  “I’ve wanted it for days,” he whispers. “Since I saw you on Tuesday.”

  I crash my lips against his, my unspoken ‘me too’ clear as day in the kiss.

  We finally break apart, and I breathe out a soft chuckle at the little whimper Zack lets out as I pull my fingers from his ass. “What else do you want?”

  He glares at me, eyes full of heat and anticipation. “You know what I want.”

  My mouth curves into a grin of approval and I take a small step back. “Come on. Not here.” I grab Zack’s wrist and open the bathroom door, leading him across the hall to my old bedroom.

  As soon as we’re inside with the door closed, we start attacking each other, ripping off layers of clothing while attempting to grab as much of each other’s skin as possible.

  Once we’re both completely naked, I push Zack onto the bed and crawl up on top of him.

  “Are you on PrEP?”

  He nods emphatically. “And I got tested recently.”

  I offer a soft quirk of my lips before leaning down to drop a soft kiss to his cheek. “Perfect.”

  I slide off him and wander over to the nightstand to where I know there’s a bottle of lube somewhere in the drawer. I don’t actually live in this house anymore, but I crash here often, and, well…a guy needs his supplies.

  Finally wrapping my hands around the bottle, I toss it to Zack, who catches it deftly. “Get yourself ready, babe,” I tell him. “I want to watch.”

  His eyes flare with anticipation and he offers a brief smile before moving into a better position for fingering himself. I let out a soft groan at the sight of his cock tapping against his abs. Hard and pulsing…for me. I’m tempted to just dive on him and take that gorgeous dick in my mouth, to suck him hard and deep until he comes in a rush down my throat…

  But I manage to control the urge. We’ll have time for that later. Right now I need to keep hands and mouth and everything else off and just watch.

  The breathy moans of pleasure Zack lets out as he fucks himself with his fingers are the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard, and the way he’s writhing on the bed, looking thoroughly debauched, has me so turned on I can barely restrain myself from stepping forward and replacing his fingers with my own. Or my tongue. Or my dick.

  Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Zack withdraws his fingers and gets to his knees, shuffling across the mattress until he’s right at the edge, facing me. He reaches out to slide his hands over my biceps, flashing me a heated look. “I’m ready…”

  “Thank fucking god,” I say with a groan, before grabbing Zack around the waist and tossing him back on the bed. It takes me a mere moment to throw his legs over my shoulders and sink deep inside him.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Slate…” Zack groans as I fill him.

  I give him a brief moment to adjust before I feel his hands on my ass, spurring me to move. I don’t hesitate to respond, snapping my hips in a steady tempo of hard, deep thrusts.

  I’m finding it a little hard to believe where I am right now, if I’m being honest. Despite my best efforts over the years, I’ve dreamed of this moment countless times. The moment I’d get to have Zack Cartwright in my arms again, kiss him again, be inside him again… I know it’s not healthy, spending twelve years hung up on a person who moved on a long time ago, but there’s just something about Zack I’ve never been able to shake. Even if all I have is tonight, I plan to make the most of every single moment.

  And, Jesus, he just looks so fucking perfect spread out in front of me like this, his dark waves flying all over the place as his head thrashes about with the intensity of his pleasure. The pleasure I’m bringing him.

  I lean down closer, practically folding his body in half between us. He lets out a strangled groan as the movement lets me push even deeper inside him, but it’s cut short as I slam my mouth to his.

  His hands fly into my hair, tugging at the strands in a way that’s so familiar it makes me almost want to cry.

  I tear my mouth from his and let out a groan, feeling the climax building inside me. “Fuck, I’m going to come…”

  Zack nods eagerly. “God, yeah,” he pants. “Fill my ass, Slate.”

  I slam my lips back to his, increasing my tempo as I chase the orgasm. It doesn’t take long before I’m groaning into his mouth, my gri
p on his flesh tightening as I completely explode.

  I take a few moments to get my breath back before untangling Zack’s legs from my shoulders and setting his feet back on the mattress. Pulling out of him, I sink to my knees beside the bed and lean over so I can finally get a taste of that beautiful cock.

  “Jesus…fuck…” Zack groans as I wrap my mouth around him, swirling my tongue over his cockhead before taking him farther down. His hands fly into my hair, tugging hard in that way I absolutely love, as his hips jut off the bed, pushing his cock deeper into my mouth.

  And I love it. I love how crazy I’m driving him right now. And I love how familiar it all is. It only takes a few minutes of me swallowing his cock before he’s arching off the bed and coming in a rush down my throat.

  “Sorry,” he says, still struggling for breath as I pull off his dick after lapping up every drop of cum. “I should have—that was just—”

  I grin at him. “The first of many orgasms you’ll be having tonight.”

  “Uh huh,” Zack says, looking so blissed out I’m not sure he even knows what he’s agreed to.

  I chuckle and stand so I can lean over the bed and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Wait here for a minute.”

  “I can’t even feel my legs right now—where am I going to go?”

  Grinning, I quickly shove my legs into my suit pants and fling on my shirt. I don’t bother with doing all the buttons up or tucking it in. Everyone downstairs is so wasted right now I can’t imagine they’ll even notice my disheveled appearance. Besides, I’ll only be down there for a minute or so. “I’ll be back in a sec,” I tell Zack, before leaving the bedroom and creeping downstairs.

  As predicted, everyone at the wake is so hammered thanks to George and Tansie’s shots, I’m practically invisible as I move quickly into the kitchen to grab a large bottle of water and a few packets of chips from my mom’s pantry, as well as a pack of baby wipes she keeps handy for when Ethan gets all messy—which is a lot.