Spiked

“You joke, but you literally did that last time,” Jacob grumbled, but he was smiling all the same.

The Everett’s mountain home was close to the Tennessee border, in the part of Georgia that this time of year was red and gold and navy blue, fall leaves on rolling mountains. Jacob had clearly been plenty of times— he wound through the narrow roads with confidence, teasing me when I pinned myself to the far side of the car, certain that without my weight to counterbalance us, we would plunge off a mountain cliff.

“That’s it up there,” Jacob said after my ears had popped for the fifth time. He pointed to the top of the mountain we were currently scaling; when I ducked my head down, I could see the house— the Harton green house— clinging to it’s side.

“That’s the vacation house? Christ. What does the actual house look like?” I asked under my breath.

“You’ll find out eventually,” Jacob said, so sincerely that I felt bad for my rhetorical question. The house really was ridiculous though— as we grew closer, I saw the decks hanging off each bedroom, the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, the elaborate trim work. The final drive was so steep that I was sure some cars— like the tidy mid-sized things I would drive— wouldn’t have been able to make it up at all. Jacob had to hit the gas hard, but his car did, in fact, finally crest the hill.

“Even I thought painting it this color was ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head at the house which, now that we were up on it, I could see was trimmed in a taupe-gold. It looked like it belonged in some millionaire section at the university bookstore.

“They’re just being supportive alumni,” I teased, and Jacob rolled his eyes. Once we were out of the car, I noticed ours was the only car in the drive. “Are your parents not here yet?”

Jacob smiled coyly. “No.”

“Is there…a reason you are smiling like that at the fact that your parents aren’t here yet?” I asked, drifting closer, waiting for him to grab me by the arms, pull me in, kiss me hard.

“There’s something I haven’t told you about this trip,” Jacob said.

I froze. “What?”

He laughed. “Nothing terrible. But my parents are good old Southerners. They’re very…traditional. Way more so than me.”

“Okay…” I said.

“They’re not going to let us share a bedroom,” Jacob finally said, cringing at the words.

“Oh!” I said, caught between a laugh and alarm. Did Jacob’s parents seriously not know anything about their son’s…recreational activities? Besides, he was a college senior, who hopefully would have an NFL contract soon. Surely he was old enough to share a room with his girlfriend?

“It’s stupid, I know, but trust me— it’s easier to just go along with it,” Jacob said, shaking his head. “Which brings me to why we’re here early.”

“So we can share a room till they get here?” I asked slyly.

“Something like that,” Jacob said. “Come on.”

He took my hand and lead me not into the house, but up onto the back deck. There was a massive screened in porch that took the majority of one end; inside the porch was a fireplace, a wine cooler, and a bed suspended from the ceiling.

“They have a bed on their screened porch,” I said, shaking my head.

“Technically it’s a sleeping porch,” Jacob said, then pulled me close to him. He leaned down to kiss me, and as he did so, his hands pushed down my back, till he was cupping my ass cheeks. I suddenly regretted wearing jeans.

Jacob licked at my mouth, our tongues brushing against one another; he bit at my bottom lip gently, and I felt myself lifting onto my toes, begging him to pick me up, to let me wrap my legs around him.

“I think I need to test my limits, with this shoulder. See what it can handle,” he said lowly. “You’re going to help me with that.”

“Of course,” I said, feeling flush with arousal. Jacob nodded, then stepped back.

“Take off your top,” he said.

I glanced outside, fully expecting to suddenly see someone else watching— but no, it was trees and sunlight and cheerful birdcalls. I unbuttoned my blouse, then let it slide away.

Jacob did a circle around me, reached forward and ran his fingers firmly across one of my breasts. My nipples reacted to his touch instantly, hardening such that Jacob could see them through my bra. He looked pleased. He walked around again, till he was behind me.

“Jeans,” he said. I unbuttoned my pants and slowly shimmied them off my body, taking my time as I bent over and tugged them off my legs. The outdoor air was crisp and cool, circling my skin, reminding me how exposed we were. Anyone driving on the street below would see me standing there if they looked up at just the right moment of the curve.