Redeeming 6: Boys of Tommen #4

JOEY

IT WAS ALMOST midnight on a Friday night, and instead of doing something productive, like sleeping in an actual bed, I found myself slumped on top of a stack of bales, with my girlfriend nestled between my legs, and a pink, fluffy blanket slung over us.

The majority of our classmates from Sixth Year 3 were crammed into Podge’s hay-shed, having been smuggled onto his parents’ farm on the back of a tractor trailer.

To be fair, we had no business being here, but when the idea arose in class this morning, a haphazard plan was thrown together and here we were.

The rain was pelting down on the tin roof, the drink was flying, the tunes were pumping from Neasa’s Murphy’s battery operated boombox, and the craic was ninety.

Most of us here had endured one another’s company five days a week for almost six years now, and there was a definite sense of camaraderie between us.

We’d grown up together, suffered through all of the teenage bullshit, fights, bitching and hardships.

Hell, a good portion of those in attendance knew each other on an intimate level, but being here now almost felt like we had come full circle.

Knowing that in a couple of months, we would all go our separate ways should have made me feel some semblance of sadness and anxiety, but it didn’t.

The rest of my class could shoot off in whatever direction they wanted after the leaving cert, just as long as I got to keep the girl in my arms.

“I bet you’ve never spent a Friday night rolling in the hay, devil-tits?”

“You’d be surprised how I’ve spent my Friday nights, Al,” Casey laughed, readjusting her woolly hat before accepting the naggin of vodka he held out for her.

“Jesus, lad, could you be any more conspicuous?” Podge demanded, gesturing to the hi-vis coat that Alec was wearing. “You’re not at your Saturday job, Al. You could have left the construction site jacket at home.”

“Ooh, get you and your big words,” Alec grumbled, sparking up a rollie. “Fuck off, ya swot. I haven’t a notion of what you’re talking about.”

“Conspicuous,” Neasa chuckled. “It means you’re not being very discreet, Al.”

“Discreet about what?”

“About the fact that we’re not meant to be here,” Podge argued. “And you can’t be smoking in here, either. The bales are dried out, lad. One rogue flame and this place will go up like a Christmas tree.”

“Don’t mind you, farmer fucking John with your big words and laying down the law. If I want a smoke, I’ll have one.”

“Could you be any more of a townie?’

“Better a townie than a farmer with a big culchie head up on him.”

“Hey now, there’s nothing wrong with farmers,” Casey chimed in with a wink. “Plenty of money hidden under the mattress.”

“Plenty of sheep, too.”

“Actually, we’re tillage and beef farmers.”

“So?”

“So, we fatten bullocks, asshole, not sheep.”

“Joe, I feel sick,” Molloy declared, distracting me from our friends’ antics. She thrust her half-empty can of Dutch Gold into my hand and groaned. “Seriously, my stomach is turning.”

“Well, take it handy,” I replied, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. “Don’t mind what the rest of these assholes are doing.” My lips brushed against her ear as I spoke. “It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

She looked fucking adorable in her puffy white coat and pink bobble hat, scarf, and matching gloves, with her long blonde hair braided in two plaits that reached the middle of her back. The epitome of fashion, regardless of the venue, she donned a light blue tracksuit she liked to call her knock-off juicy, whatever the fuck that meant, and a pair of black wellies.

“My stomach’s not turning from drink,” she grumbled, twisting around to look up at me. “It’s turning from having to look at those two.”

My gaze flicked to where she was pointing and a deep shudder rolled through me.

“Jesus.”

From where we were sitting, we had a perfect view of Ricey and Danielle.

“I can’t decide if he’s trying to kiss her lips or eat them?” I mused, ignoring my phone as it vibrated in my pocket.

“Both,” Molloy laughed. “Uh, Joe, it’s so bad, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad, Molloy.”

“He has this really wide tongue,” she continued to tell me, like this was important information her current boyfriend needed to know about her ex. “Which would be a pretty great asset if the boy actually learned how to use it.” Snickering, she added, “But he’s one of those ‘three flicks of the bean and I’m done’ kind of guys.”

“What a lovely mental image to inflict upon me,” I drawled, tone laced with sarcasm. “Ricey’s wide tongue on my girlfriend’s pussy.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “Trust me, it was never a pleasurable experience.”

“Do you want me to puke?” I accused. “Because I’ll puke, Molloy.”

“Oh please,” she snorted, digging me with her elbow. “Like you haven’t had your dick in half of the females in attendance tonight.”

“Who?”

“The girls in our class.”

“Which girls?”

“Take your pick. You’ve been with most of them.”

“When?”

“Joey.” She gave me a hard look. “Don’t piss down my back and tell me it’s raining.”

What could I say to that?

Nothing that wouldn’t result in her going full-blown drama queen on me, so I sensibly kept my mouth shut and took a sip from her can instead.

“Ha. See? You can’t even deny it. You’re such a slut,” she accused, snaking a hand under my hoodie to pinch my nipple. “Did you lick her out, Joe?” Her eyes narrowed. “What am I saying? Of course you did. Nobody is as good as you are at giving head unless they’ve been around the block a time or thousand.”

I knew better than to respond to that, too.

I remembered all too well how Molloy had reacted when I admitted to having sex with Danielle back in third year.

I’d been given the silent treatment for weeks and we had only been friends at the time.

I was a quick enough learner to know that it would be less painful to chew my own arm off than willingly wade back into that kind of dangerous territory.

It was a trap, nothing I said could benefit me, so I took a mental vow of silence and kissed her cheek instead.

“Hm.” Huffing out a breath, Molloy cupped my cheek with her glove-covered hand and gave me a hard look. “It’s a good thing I love you.”

Yeah, it was.

She cracked a smile then and leaned in to kiss me, smearing the sticky lip-gloss on my lips.

“I hate that stuff,” I grumbled, trailing my tongue over my bottom lip and tasting her. “You don’t need to wear any of it. You look good, baby.”

“I know I do.” She grinned back at me and tapped my nose with her glove covered finger. “I wear it for me, not you.”

I shrugged. “Fair enough.”

“So, are you doing okay?” Twisting sideways so that she was sitting on my lap, Molloy hooked an arm around my neck and snuggled into my chest. “You good, stud?”

I knew what she meant and I nodded slowly. “I’m good, queen.”

“Are you going to answer that?” she asked then, alluding to the phone that was still vibrating in my pocket. “It’s been going off all night.”

It didn’t take a genius to know that it was my mother calling, and it sure as hell didn’t take any guesses to know what she wanted, either.

“No,” I replied, knowing that if I did answer my phone, there was a very big chance that I would have to cut and run.

Surprise flashed in her eyes. “No?”

“No,” I confirmed, tightening my arms around her. “I’m here with you.”

“Oh.” She beamed up at me. “You are so getting the good loving tonight.”

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh.” Hooking an arm around my neck, she pulled me close and stroked her cold nose against mine. “Then what would you say to having a little roll around in the hay?”

“I’d say you’re a bad influence on me,” I laughed against her lips.

“Really?” she purred. “Because I’d say that I’m an even better influence when I’m on you and you’re in me.”

“If you’re trying to make me hard, then mission accomplished, Molloy.”

“I’m trying to get my hole, Joe.”

“Jesus, your mouth is terrible.”

“What was that?” she teased, eyes twinkling with mischief as she climbed off my lap, reached for my hand and pulled me up. “You want to do terrible things to my mouth?”

Grinning like a dope, I slid off the bale we’d been sitting on and trailed after her, ignoring the wolf-whistles from our classmates, as she led me behind a stack of bales until we were out of sight.

“Now.” With her back to a heaving stack of bales, she pulled my body flush against hers and grinned up at me. “Where were we?”

“I was behaving myself.” Hips thrusting against her, I cupped her neck and pulled her face up for a kiss. “You were trying to lead me astray.”

“Don’t behave yourself, Joe,” she breathed against my lips, as she removed her gloves and reached for the waistband of my sweats. “I like you so much better when you’re bad.”

“I’m always bad, Molloy.”

“Which is exactly why I’m so in love with you.” She slid her hand into my jocks to grip me. “Well, that and your big dick.”