A Spanking by the Pool

Taylor Swift’s “Anti-Hero” drifts through the house from a Bluetooth speaker someone has already paired to the living room system without asking. It's their first night. The girls have been in the house for four hours, and Paige Turner has already claimed the pool and the shower with the good water pressure.

Three recent high school graduates. One summer course before fall semester starts. The dorm fell through—raccoons in the HVAC, the whole building condemned through August—and my friend called in a favor because Hazel needed a place, and Hazel doesn't go anywhere without Paige and Raven.

One summer. Three guest rooms.

I said yes because that's what you do when a friend asks, and because Hazel Anderson is a quiet kid with a 4.0 and color-coded flashcards who reads on the couch and says thank you. I did not account for the other two.

Paige walks through the kitchen dripping wet in a bikini, her braid heavy with pool water. She takes a Coke from the fridge without looking at me. She's been doing laps for an hour—cheer tryouts at the college are in September, and she treats the pool like a training facility. Water drips from her toned shoulders and the curve of her hips, leaving a trail across the tile.

"Raven, your weed smells like a dead skunk and I love it," she calls through the open sliding door.

From the hot tub, Raven Sinclair exhales a cloud through black lipstick and tilts her head toward the kitchen without moving the rest of her body. The eyeliner hasn't budged. The silver rings catch the patio light.

"Tell your host to come outside," she says, her voice low and smoky. "The water's perfect and I don't bite unless it's interesting."

On the deck chair between them, Hazel holds a copy of A Good Man Is Hard to Find upside down. Her reading glasses are slightly fogged. She hasn't turned a page in twenty minutes. The flush is already at her collarbones, spreading like watercolor on paper.

"Girls," I say, stepping out onto the patio. The sun hits my eyes. "Can you keep it down a bit? I'm trying to get some work done."

Hazel jumps at the sound of my voice, nearly dropping the book. She scrambles to flip it right side up, her fingers trembling slightly as she adjusts her glasses. The flush spreads higher, coloring her neck and cheeks in shades of pink.

Raven doesn't move from the hot tub. She just lifts one eyebrow and smirks, her lips curling around the joint she's still holding. She exhales slowly, watching the smoke curl into the air.

"Work?" she echoes, her voice teasing. "That's cute."

Paige, still dripping from the pool, turns toward me with a grin that shows off her dimples. She wipes her hands on her towel—her metallic black bikini still glistening with water—and leans against the counter with casual confidence that borders on arrogance.

"I'm sorry, I know you're on summer vacation," I say, "but I've got work to do. Hazel, why don't you introduce me to your friends?"

Hazel looks like she wants to dissolve into the deck chair. She stands up so quickly her book slides off her lap and hits the floor with a soft thud, but she doesn't dare pick it up yet.

"I—oh! I'm sorry," she stammers, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose for what must be the tenth time this evening. "They're... they aren't very quiet. Usually. They don't mean any disrespect, really."

She takes a tentative step toward me, adjusting the strap of her shiny white pearlescent bikini top between her fingers.

"This is Raven," she gestures vaguely toward the hot tub where Raven is currently watching us both with an unreadable expression, "and Paige is... well, you already saw her in the pool."

"Raven, Paige, hello. I'm Eros Apostasia, but you can call me Mr. A if you're formal, and Ero if you're not. You're welcome to stay, and please, have as much fun as possible, but just keep it down a bit. Please?"

Paige rolls her eyes dramatically at the request for quiet, but there's a glint of mischief in her green eyes.

"Mr. A? Ero?" she repeats, testing the names on her tongue. "I think we'll stick with Ero. It suits you better."

She winks, stretching her arms above her head in a way that makes her metallic jungle print bikini ride up even further, exposing the taut muscles of her abdomen and the underside of her breasts.

Hazel blushes harder at Paige's boldness, her gaze darting nervously between me and her friend.

"We appreciate you letting us stay here," she says softly, her voice barely audible over the music still playing in the background. "And we'll try to keep things quieter, won't we, guys?"

"What if we don't?" Raven asks, setting down her joint on the edge of the hot tub. "Will you spank us, Ero?"

"Noooo, I don't think he will," Paige chimes in, her voice sing-song and teasing. "He looks more like someone who would enjoy getting spanked rather than dishing it out. Is that right, Ero? Have you been a naughty boy? Do you need a spanking?"

To be continued in chapter 2...