Clean Slate

by Isla Olsen

  His legs find their way around my waist, and the laughter dies as his lips descend on mine, his fingers tugging at my wet hair.

  I grip his ass tight, holding him against me as I snap my hips forward, grinding our cocks together.

  “Fuck, Slater…” Zack groans, tearing his lips from mine and kissing all over my jaw and neck. He moves his hands to run down my body, gripping my hips tight and urging me to rut against him even more frantically.

  “Jesus…so good, baby,” I murmur breathlessly. “Always so fucking good with you.”

  Our lips crash back together again in a wild, desperate kiss that has me seeing stars. There’s no one that kisses the way Zack does. No one.

  Moving on instinct, barely conscious of what I’m doing, I slide my fingers between his cheeks and tease around his hole for a bit before eventually pushing inside. It drives him absolutely nuts, and he writhes against me, clinging desperately to my body and letting out groan after groan as I find his magic spot.

  I feel his ass clamping down around my finger and his whole body goes tense in my arms as he hits his climax.

  “Fuck, Slater, I’m…uhh…”

  I withdraw my finger from his ass and he slips from my grip, his legs falling from around my waist so he’s back standing on the silty floor of the stream. Then he wraps his hand around my cock, stroking it firmly as he tickles my balls with his other hand.

  “Fucking hell,” I hiss through my teeth, before letting out a rumbled groan as Zack swipes his thumb over the head of my cock. “Jesus.”

  “You like that?” he teases.

  “You fucking know I do,” I gasp out, barely managing to even form the words. With the amount of hand jobs we exchanged back in high school both of us are pretty damn familiar with what the other does and doesn’t respond to.

  Case in point: it only takes about a minute of Zack’s expert ministrations for my orgasm to burn through me. I cling to his shoulders to steady myself, letting out a harsh groan as I explode into the water.

  After I’ve taken a second to gather my breath, I wrap my hands around his face and seal my lips over his, kissing him soft and slow. I want to tell him exactly what I’m feeling, but I know he doesn’t want to hear it. So I settle for saying it with the kiss instead and tell myself that’s enough.

  14

  From the private Facebook group ‘Finchley Locals Community Hangout’

  * * *

  Post by Tansie Goode: Does anyone know anything about a woman who was murdered by the blacksmith in the 1800s? Some tourists said they heard the story from one of the locals?

  Missy Clarke reply to Tansie Goode’s post: No, that can’t be right. Finchley’s a nice, safe town. We wouldn’t get murders here

  Alice Ackerman reply to Missy Clarke’s comment: You call this safe? My Fifi was violated in her own home!

  Gunner Clarke reply to Alice Ackerman’s comment: I thought female dogs wanted to have sex when they’re in heat?

  Alice Ackerman reply to Gunner Clarke’s comment: So you’re saying this is HER fault?? That she was ASKING FOR IT??

  Gunner Clarke reply to Alice Ackerman’s comment: Okay I am sooo not getting sucked down this rabbit hole

  * * *

  Zack

  * * *

  I’m getting a little too used to waking in Slater’s bed. I’ve never done the no strings attached thing before, but I’m pretty sure one of the big rules is that you’re not supposed to sleep over. You’re supposed to have sex, then split—no cuddling allowed. I’m sure if I asked Lawson he’d verify that for me.

  But Slater and I haven’t really been following that particular rule. There’s just something that feels completely natural about falling into bed together after sex. I like the way his arms feel wrapped around me, the way his hot breath tickles my neck. And the scent of him…I love that familiar scent of wood shavings and furniture polish that just seems to linger all the time, as if it’s being expelled from his skin.

  There’s nothing wrong with enjoying this part of our arrangement. It’s not as though snuggling together suddenly makes us a couple. What it comes down to is that I’ll be heading back to Chicago in a matter of days, and Slater will be staying here. This week will just be as he said on Saturday—a fun vacation fling. But I see no reason why I should deprive myself of awesome cuddle-time just because there’s an expiry date on this thing.

  “I can hear your brain whirring,” Slater murmurs, his hot breath on the back of my neck making me tingle all over. “Why is your brain whirring at four thirty in the morning.”

  I turn to face him, the corner of my mouth quirking up as I catch sight of his sleepy expression. “No reason in particular.”

  He doesn’t push back at my non-answer, which I’m glad about. I know what he really wants is for us to actually get back together, to be a proper couple again; but I can’t do that. Sex is one thing, but I can’t let him back into my heart. So I’m relieved that he doesn’t urge me to confess how much I love cuddling with him; he doesn’t need the encouragement.

  “You know what I’ve been thinking about?” he asks with a sexy smile, lifting a hand to slide over my hip. “How much I still don’t know about you.”

  My brows draw together in confusion, because I totally thought he was about to say something else. “What?”

  He nods. “Yep. I know how much you love it when I kiss your neck. And when I play with your balls. And I know exactly how to make you scream when I’m inside you. But there’s still so much I don’t know about you. So much I’ve missed over the past twelve years.”

  I pull away from him and sit up, managing to curb the little voice that wants to scream at him ‘And who’s fault is that?’ Instead, I just sit there for a moment, waiting for the tension to ease out of my body. But it doesn’t.

  “What’s wrong?” Slater asks warily.

  I get off the bed and start rummaging on the floor for my clothes. As I tug my jeans on, I fix him with a hard look. “This is supposed to just be sex, Slater.”

  “I know that.” He’s trying to be casual but there’s a slight edge to his voice that reveals just how frustrated he is with the situation.

  “Right. Then why do you keep going on about how much you’ve missed, and how you don’t know me anymore? What does it matter? This will be over in a few days anyway.”

  “Don’t you usually like to know the person you’re sleeping with?” he challenges.

  “I—”

  I’m not sure what I was planning to say, but it doesn’t matter because Slater cuts me off with a heavy sigh, before murmuring, “Maybe we shouldn’t wait the extra few days…”

  I blink at him in surprise, both at his words and at the way every cell in my body seems to be rebelling upon hearing them. “You want to end this now?”

  He merely shrugs. “To be honest, I’ve got a busy few days coming up—I’m not sure how much time I’ll have anyway.”

  I nod, feeling a little numb. “Yeah. Okay. Makes sense.” I grab my t-shirt from the floor before tugging it on and heading for the door. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

  It takes me all of three minutes to drive back to my mom’s place, texting Lawson as soon as I get in the door.

  Lawson Hale: What do you mean you just got dumped? I thought you guys were just messing around?

  Me: So did I! It was just sex, I swear! I made that very clear from day one

  Me: But it feels like a dumping!

  Lawson Hale: Dude, if it feels like a dumping then it wasn’t just sex

  Fuck. I toss my phone down and flop onto my bed. Lawson’s right. I should feel completely indifferent right now; or, worst case, like I’ve just had my ego crushed a little.

  But that’s not what’s going on. I feel…sad. Not angry, or bitter, just…sad. Like I’ve lost something really special, and I don’t understand how it happened or what I’m supposed to do next.

  I’m still in a complete funk the next day, but I manage to pull myself out of bed and he
ad into town. I tell myself it’s not in the hopes of at least getting a glimpse of Slater, but that’s a damn lie.

  I’m sitting at one of the tables in the saloon, working on some stuff for Lawson, when George takes the seat opposite me. Of course, he doesn’t sit normally, instead turning the chair around and straddling it as though he’s a character in a ’90s sitcom.

  “Hey, man, sorry to interrupt,” he says with a sheepish grin. “I just caught a glimpse of your screen and saw you’re doing some stuff for Lawson. You mind if I give you some feedback on his books?”

  I blink at him a few times as my brain struggles to process the direction of this conversation. “You read one of Lawson’s books?”

  He nods eagerly. “Not just one. I read all the Drake Porter books. They were great, although I thought he let himself down a little when it came to the sex.”

  “How so…?” I ask, still a little baffled.

  “Well, it was a bit dull, to be honest. There just wasn’t much chemistry there.”

  “Uh huh.” I give a nod, before carefully asking, “Do you think perhaps the fact that you’re straight might have something to do with you not liking sex scenes between two men?”

  George shakes his head adamantly. “Nah, that’s not what I mean. Of course it didn’t turn me on—I was expecting that. But the characters went from having oodles of chemistry everywhere else in the book to having absolutely none when it came to the sex stuff. It just didn’t feel believable.”

  My head feels like it’s about to explode from the sheer absurdity of this conversation. This must be how women feel when men try to mansplain to them.

  Before I can respond, George holds his hand up in a somewhat placating gesture. “I don’t mean to say it’s not accurate,” he clarifies. “I have no way of knowing if it is or not, but I get the impression Lawson’s done a fair bit of field research so I’ll take his word on all the mechanics of everything…”

  “Well, at least there’s that,” I say dryly.

  “All I’m trying to say is it felt a little flat. Porter and Agent Scott had this really intense, fiery relationship throughout the rest of the books, but the sex didn’t feel like a natural progression of that. It felt like it was just jammed in there. No pun intended,” he adds with a smirk.

  I roll my eyes, and am just about to respond to this latest spiel when I catch sight of Lawson entering the saloon.

  “William Shakespeare here thinks your sex scenes don’t have enough chemistry,” I say as Lawson takes a seat on the chair next to mine.

  Law merely offers George a friendly smile, one shoulder lifting in a small shrug. “I’ve had other readers mention that as well. It’s something I’m trying to work on for the next book.”

  My mouth falls open in surprise. “He was right?”

  Lawson shrugs again. “Apparently.”

  “Why didn’t I pick up on it then?” I ask, my brow creased in agitation. I’m Lawson’s alpha reader, I’m supposed to spot problems like this.

  George chuckles. “My guess is you got distracted by all the cocks flying around the place. I didn’t have that problem.”

  “You want to be an alpha reader for my next book?” Lawson offers, making me almost fall off my chair in shock.

  George’s face lights up. “Seriously? I get to read it before everyone else?”

  “You’ll get it at the same time as Zack,” Lawson clarifies.

  “Oh my god, yes! That would be so awesome,” George rambles, his face lit up with amazement. “Dude, your books are so amazing—I can’t wait to read the next one!”

  I grin as I catch Lawson’s cheeks flaring pink from the praise. But it slips from my face pretty quickly when I realize this is the first time since yesterday morning that I’ve actually managed to smile.

  Fucking Slater. Why on earth did I think it was a good idea to jump down that rabbit hole?

  15

  From the private Facebook group ‘Finchley Locals Community Hangout’

  * * *

  Post by Raymond ‘Sheriff’ Taylor: A complaint has been made about someone failing to respect the town’s poop scooping guidelines. Fines will be issued to anyone found not scooping after their dog poops

  Hank Latham reply to Raymond ‘Sheriff’ Taylor’s post: Who is this person? We deserve names!

  Alice Ackerman reply to Hank Latham’s comment: I’m not sure you should be getting all high and mighty Hank. Mabel is the worst poop offender!

  Hank Latham reply to Alice Ackerman’s comment: Mabel has an exemption, I can show you the paperwork from the mayor!

  * * *

  Slater

  * * *

  “Why the fuck would you go and do something idiotic like that?” Web growls after I’ve finally come clean about breaking things off with Zack.

  I let out a sigh of frustration. “Things were going to end tomorrow anyway. He wasn’t about to change his mind about going back to Chicago.”

  Web lets out a disapproving grunt and I turn to Chance, appealing for him to say something reasonable.

  He just shakes his head. “Don’t look at me. I’m with him,” he says, gesturing to Web. “You’re an idiot.”

  I let out a frustrated groan and fall into one of the chairs in front of Chance’s desk. “Can we just do this, please? I have a job to get back to.”

  Chance nods and shuffles some papers on his desk. “Yes, absolutely. Mrs. Ackerman will be in shortly—I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

  Web chuckles softly and takes the chair next to me. “Who’s dog is she suing this time?”

  The corner of Chance’s mouth curves into a wry grin. “Lawyer-Client confidentiality. Sorry.” He lays out the papers we need to sign on the desk in front of us and sets a pen on top. “Everything’s marked where you need to initial and sign. Nothing’s changed since you read through them last week.”

  I nod and take the contract and the pen, quickly scanning through it and signing where noted. Then I hand it to Web for him to do the same.

  “Congratulations, boys. You’re in business,” Chance says with a bright smile once Web hands him back the contract.

  I let out a breath of wry laughter. It’s going to take more than a signature on a piece of paper for us to actually get the businesses merged together but at least now we can move forward with the rest of it.

  After leaving Chance’s office, I decide to head over to Nanna’s as it’s been a few days since I’ve visited.

  When she opens the door, instead of her usual friendly smile, I get a disapproving frown. “I heard you broke things off with Zack again.”

  My mouth falls open in shock and I just stand there for a moment before finally shaking it off and stepping inside, closing the door behind me. “How the hell did you even know that? No one was even supposed to know we were…well…whatever it was.”

  Nanna shrugs. “The whole town knows. You know what it’s like here.” She looks thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe people have hidden cameras or something…I wouldn’t put it past Missy Clarke, that’s for sure.”

  I let out a soft breath of laughter, shaking my head in wry amusement. As gossipy and intrusive as Missy can be sometimes, I know in reality she’s completely harmless.

  “So, is it true?” Nanna demands, hands placed firmly on her hips. “Did you really ditch that poor boy again.”

  “What the hell is with everyone?” I say with a groan. “Why can’t they just stay out of my life?”

  Her demeanor morphs into something more resembling sympathetic. “They all just care about you, angel. As do I. None of us want to see you make the same mistake you did twelve years ago.”

  I let out a heavy sigh. “Why am I always the one making the mistake? He’s the one who’s always leaving—why don’t you give him one of your talking tos?”

  Nanna shrugs. “He’s not my grandson.”

  I roll my eyes at her biased logic. “Look, I’m sorry to disappoint everyone, but clearly Zack and I just aren’t meant to be tog
ether. His life is in Chicago now and he’s made it abundantly clear he wants to go back to it.”

  “Has he?” Nanna asks, one eyebrow raised. “Does he talk about Chicago a lot?”

  I frown in thought for a moment. “Well…not exactly…” He just keeps talking about leaving…

  “Maybe you need to give him a reason to stay,” she suggests, as if it were that simple.

  “It’s not that easy, Nanna,” I say in a weary voice. Why do people keep acting like this is something that can just be fixed with a snap of the fingers?

  “It is that easy,” she says firmly. “You love the man. Tell him what he means to you before he leaves. And if he leaves anyway, well at least you’ll know you tried.” She reaches out and takes my hands, rubbing them gently as she looks up at me with an entreating gaze. “Trust me, angel. You don’t want to leave anything unsaid. Life’s far too short.”

  I let my eyes fall closed, hearing the significance of Nanna’s words loud and clear. With a soft sigh, I offer a nod of acquiescence. “Okay. I’ll talk to him.”

  Nanna’s face lights up with a wide grin. “Good boy,” she says, gently patting the back of my hand.

  Considering Nanna’s place is right next door to Zack’s mom’s, where he’s been staying for his visit to Finchley, I don’t waste any time after finishing up my visit with Nanna before crossing the front lawn and knocking on the Cartwright’s front door.

  “Hey,” Zack says upon answering. There’s a startled expression on his face, as though I’m pretty much the last person he expected to see here. I guess that’s fair.

  “Hey. Um…can I talk to you?”

  He nods, still looking confused and maybe a little…hopeful? Or is that just wishful thinking getting the better of me? “Yeah, okay. Come on in.” He stands aside and gestures for me to enter the house.