Page 48 of Jagged Little Pieces

“I plan to work my magic on Austen tonight, so she’ll trust me by the time we get home tomorrow,” I explain to Goose. “So, when you’re thinking about smothering Coco with a pillow, keep in mind how her death will ruin my love vibe.”

Goose rests back on her bed and doesn’t agree. I pretend she’s considering how to get in Coco’s pants rather than where to hide her body.

Showering, I give my dick a little love. The poor thing’s been restless since I last kissed Austen. I consider her in the next room. She seemed both nervous and excited to be one day closer to McMurdo Valley. If I can keep her focused on me, rather than her family in Canary Basin, I’m certain we’ll be happy in the way I see in my head.

After finding relief, I get dressed while my thoughts replay the day. Austen is so beautiful, no matter the situation or her outfit. She wore a flannel top earlier. I suspect she hoped it would distract from her curvy body waiting for my attention.

Her thick red hair was tied in a braid, making her seem sweet and innocent. When we meet up with her and Coco, Austen’s recently showered, and her damp hair is loose. I immediately invade her space for a kiss. Her soft, fruity scent reawakens my dick.

“You smell fucking fantastic,” I say once our lips separate.

Austen’s expression cracks me up. She’s so wide-eyed and startled by my interest. I can’t believe men don’t hit on her constantly. Whatever the reason behind their lack of smooth moves, I plan to be the guy who awakens her sexiest fantasies.

“What’s the plan?” Coco asks, looking fun and feisty in her matching denim shorts and top.

This evening, Austen is a little less overdressed. A burgundy top reveals her stellar tits and pale skin. Her jeans are tight enough to show off her lovely ass. My boner leaves me too distracted to respond to Coco’s question.

“We’re having ribs,” Goose says.

“I don’t eat ribs anymore,” Coco replies.

“Too messy for your princess fingers?”

“No, it just gives guys sex thoughts when I lick my fingers that much.”

Austen finds this comment hilarious. She wraps an arm around Coco and looks out at the parking lot.

“Let’s take the SUV,” Austen says, seeming less passive than she was back at her mom’s place.

I maneuver the seating to ensure I’m up front with Austen. Goose and Coco get stuck in the back seat. The drive is short since we found a hotel just off the highway with many restaurants and bar options. For dinner, I pick a generic-looking restaurant to avoid running into a rough crowd.

Yet, as soon as we walk inside, a group of thirty-year-old men starts grunting in our direction. I think the noises are meant to imply they’re horny, but they just sound like a bunch of pigs waiting for slop.

Austen doesn’t seem to notice them. She’s only got eyes for me. Earlier, as we got out of the SUV, I asked if I could hold her hand. She really liked that suggestion, so her hand now rests comfortably in mine.

“You should have worn pants,” Goose tells Coco when the men keep making noises after we’re seated.

“Why would I change my clothes to keep perverts from acting that way?”

Goose opens her mouth to find fault with that reasoning. Then, she likely remembers how she’s Goose rather than my parents. So desperate to make a dig at Coco, she’s lost her own narrative.

Goose’s blue eyes find me, and I feel her silently scolding herself.

“You wear whatever you want,” she tells Coco and reaches for the menu. “If they hassle you, I’ll hurt them. Then, everyone wins.”

Coco gives Austen a really adorable grin. This right here is what I hoped would happen once we were away from Banta City. Austen can’t hide behind her mom out in the world. She’ll either stand on her own or use me as a shield. I’m absolutely fine with both scenarios.

“Does this place have a manager?” I ask the waitress. When she stares at me and nods like I’m stupid to ask, I point out, “Is there a reason you’re letting those men sexually harass your lady customers? Is that a local thing or is your manager weak?”

“I’ll get him.”

The waitress acts like I’m a dick for even mentioning the noisy douche-bros at the bar. Goose keeps peeking at them before frowning at me.

“Are we throwing down here?”

“Maybe. Don’t get liquored up just in case we need to pound on the fuckers.”

I glance at Austen who stares at the menu in an overly intense way.

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