Satan's Revenge by Celia Loren Page A

yeah, I’ve heard of him,” she replies.
    “You flirting with my old lady?” grunts a voice behind me. My stomach drops until I turn and see Flint. The woman bursts out laughing again.
    “I’m sorry, honey, but your face…I’m Liz,” she says, extending her hand for me to shake. “Flint’s old lady. His wife.”
    “That’s right,” Flint says proudly. He hands me a Coors. Liz raises her eyebrows at him.
    “How old are you, exactly?” she asks me.
    “Sixteen… almost sixteen,” I correct myself. “In two weeks.”
    “Shit. Well, you do look older than that…you’re certainly tall enough,” Liz says, studying me.
    Flint looks at her with a smile. He whispers something in her ear and she shakes her head at him with a grin and wanders off.
    “Come sit by the fire,” Flint suggests, and I join him and some of the other guys on folding chairs around one of the trash can fires. I get up a couple times to refill my plate, but mostly I just listen to the conversations. Flint turns to me throughout to clue me in on what they’re discussing, but mostly it’s just nice to be around people who like each other’s company, even if I don’t know who they’re talking about.
    A couple of the older guys start talking to me about Mr. Laurits, asking me about his teaching, and what I’m building in shop. I spot him a couple times across the yard, keeping an eye on me.
    After a couple hours or so, I’m not sure how long, Liz walks over to me with a younger woman trailing her. She leans over my chair, and I focus hard to keep looking at her eyes and not down her shirt.
    “Scott, this is Marissa,” she says, indicating the girl. “Marissa, why don’t you sit down with Scott here and get to know each other a little better?”
    Marissa sits in the unoccupied seat next to me and curls her legs up under her.
    “Good meeting you, Scott,” Liz adds with a wink and walks away again.
    I turn to Marissa, unsure of what to say and very conscious of the fact that this feels like a set-up. She’s pretty, maybe even prettier than Ava, and young, probably only a couple of years older than I am. But she seems more comfortable than me, and she takes a slow slip from the can of PBR that she’s holding.
    “So you grew up here?” she asks, and I hear a bit of a Southern drawl in her voice. I’m grateful that she started the conversation, because I didn’t know where to begin.
    “Well, Oregon, but not here specifically. I’ve lived all over the state. What about you? Louisiana?”
    I’m rewarded with a smile.
    “Very good!” she says.
    We keep talking as the light starts to fade from the sky and the yellow glow from the fire takes over. It turns out Marissa is only eighteen, and she came to Oregon to live with her aunt, but she turned out to be a “monster,” in her words. Now she’s a “house mouse” here, which she says means the Sons protect her, and she stays at the house and parties with them.
    I feel the beer going to my head a little, and her words start to blend with the music. I’ve had all of two beers before in my life, both stolen from an old foster dad. My eyes drift from her dark brown eyes down to her small, perky breasts, and her tan thighs, exposed in tiny white shorts.
    “You’re cute,” she says, and my gaze snaps back up to her face.
    “Yeah?” I ask, glancing down as she bites her lip.
    “Mmhm,” she replies, standing up. To my shock, she sits down on my lap, leaning back and resting her head on the back of the chair right next to mine. 
    Well, I don’t think I’m going to get a clearer invitation. I look around quickly; it’s almost dark now, and no one is paying any attention to us. I lean forward and bring my lips to hers. Her lips are so soft, and I close my eyes as she opens her mouth slightly to me.
    I feel her press her ass down into my erection as she slips her tongue into my mouth. I wrap my hands around her waist, surprising myself with my forwardness. I just feel