“Seven o’clock. Sit up.”
Her eyes widen as she sits up on her knees. “They’re gonna be here in less than an hour!” she cries. “We have to clean up.”
Her eyes dart around the dimly lit bedroom in the cabin, which isn’t really a cabin. It’s a tiny house on a farm forty-five minutes outside of Raleigh. Though it does look like a cabin from the outside, there isn’t a mountain in sight.
“Calm down. An hour is plenty of time.”
I sit up and grab the back of her neck. She looks me in the eye as my other hand slides between her legs. Her panic melts as I stroke her clit. I tangle my fingers in her hair and pull her up until we’re both standing on our knees on the mattress facing each other. She whimpers as I plunge two fingers inside her wet pussy to unearth her moisture. I hook my middle finger inside her, using my thumb to keep pressure on her clit as I massage her g-spot. Her shoulders begin to curl inward as she gets close to climax, but I tighten my grip on her hair and pull her head up.
“Do you want me to finish you?”
“Yes!” she cries, panting between gasps. “Yes, please.” I ease the pressure off her clit and her mouth drops open as I remove my finger from inside her. “No, no, please. Please finish,” she begs as she reaches for my hand.
I grab her hand and force it behind her back as I lean in and whisper in her ear. “I’ll finish you, but first you have to sit back and do what I say.”
She nods her head and immediately obeys when I instruct her to lie back with her shoulders against the headboard. I’m out of condoms so I’ll have to make do with what’s available. I straddle her chest and her eyes widen at the sight of my cock in front of her face.
“That’s … that’s kind of big,” she whispers.
“Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.”
I slide my hand behind her head, to control the movement and to protect her head from the headboard, then I slide into her mouth. I go slow at first, to let her adjust to my girth, but she soon reaches around to grab hold of my ass and push me farther inside. The pressure of her lips and the warm wetness of her tongue are perfect, but her teeth are killing me.
“Open your mouth wider,” I groan and she mutters something I can’t understand with my cock in her mouth. “Fuck.” I can’t fuck her. I’m out of condoms and I’m not making that mistake again, but I can’t take the scraping. I pull out of her mouth and her lips look red and stretched. “Turn around.”
She quickly turns onto her belly and I grab her waist to pull her hips up into the air. I shake my head to shake off the doubts then I glide an inch into her pussy, just to get my dick wet, then I pull out. She gasps as I slide my heat between her cheeks and press gently against the opening.
“Feel free to scream,” I say as I slide inside, just a smidge farther with each stroke.
She buries her face in the pillow with the flannel pillowcase to muffle her screams and I’m glad for that when I hear my phone vibrating on the nightstand. I should let it ring, but my thoughts bounce to all different sorts of scenarios. Maybe Grandma’s calling about the brown sugar I was supposed to bring her last night, or Molly is calling for her cider. Or maybe it’s Senia finally coming to her senses.
I quickly pull out of Chrissy and reach for the phone. When I glimpse the name on the screen, I can’t believe my eyes. It’s Elaine. She knows I’ll never answer her calls, so I’m not sure why she even tries. I hit the ignore button and I’m not at all surprised when I look down and see I’ve lost my erection.
I look back at my phone and see a voicemail notification from Molly. I press the play icon and listen: Tristan – wait! Oh, sh—’
I laugh as I imagine her dropping her phone. I’ll call her back once I’m out of here.
“Who the fuck was that?”
“You have a dirty mouth,” I tell Chrissy as I hurry up and start gathering my clothes off the wooden floor to get dressed.
“Are you leaving?” she shrieks as I pull on my pants.
“You said your friends are getting here at eight. It’s seven thirty.” I pull on my shirt and shoot off another text to Senia wishing her a Happy Thanksgiving. She can’t ignore me forever.
“Don’t you at least want my number?” she says as she jumps out of bed and follows me to the front door naked.
“No.”
“Fuck you!”
“Already fucked you and it wasn’t that great.”
She swings her open hand at my face, but I open the door in time to block it. Her hand smacks the inside of the door hard enough that it makes me a little nervous.
“Your hand okay?” I say with a chuckle, but I quickly slam the door shut as she reaches back to take another shot.
I laugh as I turn around and Link and his girlfriend, whose name I can’t remember, are coming up the paved stone walkway.
“You bastard,” Link says with a smile as he slaps my keys into the palm of my hand. “I knew you’d hit that.”
“You guys are pigs!” his girlfriend shouts, elbowing Link in the stomach as she makes her way to the front door.
“Do you always have to resort to violence?” he barks at her.
“You might want to give her a few seconds to get dressed,” I say over my shoulder.
Link shakes his head, a smirk materializing beneath his painful grimace. “Happy Thanksgiving, bro.”
“Same to you.”
I slide into the driver’s seat and immediately attempt to call Molly. After four rings, I get her voicemail greeting.
Why are both Molly and Elaine trying to reach me?
I hang up and toss the phone onto the passenger seat as I pull away from the cabin and start off down the long dirt road that leads off the farm and onto the highway. I speed along the highway back to Raleigh, shaving a good ten minutes off the forty-five-minute drive.
When I pull up next to the curb outside Grandma Flo’s, I’m not surprised to see Elaine’s shitty Nissan parked in the driveway. If it weren’t Thanksgiving and if I weren’t so worried, I’d peel the fuck out of here. I rush out of the car, not at all looking forward to seeing Elaine when I’m hungover and wearing last night’s clothes. But I guess it’s better that she thinks I’m a worthless drunk who’s pissing his millions into the toilet. The less she knows about me the better.
I race up the front steps then open the door, preparing my psyche for the inevitable rage that will follow the sight of her emaciated face. The living room is empty, so I quickly move to the only logical place for Grandma to be on Thanksgiving morning: the kitchen. The kitchen is also empty and the turkey is still swimming in the bucket of brine. Grandma usually gets it into the oven by 6 a.m. Something’s wrong.
Chapter Seven
Senia
The gods of Thanksgiving and I have a secret pact: I eat all their tasty offerings and they agree to not let me vomit or gain more than five pounds. Unfortunately, they never seem to hold up their end of the bargain on the weight gain and, when December rolls around, I find myself renewing my pact with the treadmill gods. But I think I may have been a bit overenthusiastic in my commitment to consuming the tasty offerings of the day. I feel sick, which gives me the perfect opportunity to skip out on family karaoke hour so I can handle some covert business.
Once Claire is deeply entrenched in a karaoke battle with my cousin Nico, I sneak out of the family room and race upstairs. It’s a few minutes past one in the afternoon. Tristan texted me about six hours ago. I know I’m going to regret this.
Me: Thanks for the kind message. Now kindly stop texting me. I’m not interested in being one of your concubines.