Chapter 17 Austen #3
The helicopter arrives and it is extremely noisy.
Mischa wakes up for only as long as the racket continues.
He’s groggy and blocking his ears, and really disoriented.
The moment Amelia and Hayden leave, Mischa pulls me back onto the sofa and puts his head back in my lap and falls asleep again.
It’s very sweet and natural and makes me laugh.
I throw a blanket on him, pat his hair and he starts making truffly little snores.
“Are we gonna set up the rest of the tents?” I ask Billy.
“Ah fuck it,” he says. “We’ll manage tonight without.”
Soon I am drowsy. I lean back and close my eyes.
When I open them again, it is very quiet, and still.
The deep fjord is a natural amphitheater.
The hoot of an owl reverberates from miles away.
It’s only me and Mischa left. Everyone else is inside.
It’s cold, so I move down and lie on my side, tucked in behind him. My movements wake him.
“The fox and the hare bid each other good night,” he whispers.
He wraps my arms under the blanket and kisses my hands.
???
In the pale dawn light a beautiful mist hangs thick on the lake. The native birds make a dawn chorus of bubbling, chattering, alien noises. Kane and Billy get into hunting gears and strap on rifles. He finds me behind Mischa and nudges me awake.
“Alright, see you cunts later,” Billy whispers.
I lift up a little from my cosy spot with the sleeping Heffalump. “When are we picking you up?”
“We’re going straight to The Wilderness. Back for afternoon tea tomorrow. We got a flare and a mountain radio. Just be good, unless you don’t want to.” He looks at Mischa. “Maybe you can try him out. I bet he swings both ways.”
I frown at him. “Excuse me?”
“It’s Owl Week. You can do whatever the fuck you want. Kill him, and I’ll help you bury the body. But I mean, if I were going to experiment, it would definitely be with a sexy beast like him. He’s hot.”
I watch Kane roll his eyes. I can tell Billy is only fucking with me, so I run my fingers through Mischa’s dark curls.
“Yeah, now that you mention it... I have been thinking about it... a lot... and I am comfortable with him. Maybe it would be good...”
“I’m down,” Mischa croaks, and stretches awake. “It’s a fabulous idea.”
“Woah, wait,” William says, horrified. “Okay... that’s alright, but I mean I wasn’t being serious, but maybe that’s not such a good idea. I don’t want you in over your head while I’m gone. I can stick around here today... I have other...”
“Holiday rules, Bee,” I yawn.
“I promise to be gentle,” Mischa chortles.
Kane starts to snigger too.
“You’re fucking with me?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I laugh.
“You fucking asshole,” Mischa shakes his head.
“Thank fuck. See ya!” He bends down and pats my head and kisses my temple. “I love you so much, little-big baby brother.”
I lie back down. “I know. Be careful.”
“Keep him safe,” he tells Mischa, clipping his ear.
“Ouch! From what?” Mischa groans, and jabs Billy just above his crotch so he buckles a little. “Fucking foliage?”
William looks at the dense treeline. “Everything.”
I listen to Billy’s footsteps disappear into the forest, and fall asleep again. When I wake, Mischa’s looking at me. He has rolled on his back, and tucked me under his shoulder. I have a tendency to cling on in sleep like a baby monkey, and I have done it to him.
My eyes are at half-mast. I stretch a little and my knee and inner thigh slide past his hard dick. It’s intimate and unexpected, and makes tingles spark across me so fast I think he must feel them too.
He smiles with eager eyes. His pupils are huge. He squeezes me as he stretches too. It pulls my erection into his hip, and again agitates his middle. He reaches under my shirt and touches my skin on the small of my back.
“Morning,” I smile, and run my finger down the side of his face.
He puts his fingers between my fingers, and pulls my body to his. I crane my neck up and I gravitate to him slowly, inch by inch, until my lips finally connect with his in a slow and intoxicating kiss. A wave of incredible feelings floods into me.
I feel like I’m a different person.
I feel like myself.
We take our time. We could keep doing this the whole day, but I need more. I squeeze his hard cock over his clothes, and his breath hitches. He moves me up so I’m on top, my legs around his hips. My face is just above his.
“Is this okay?” Mischa whispers.
“Mmm,” I smile, putting my hands on his shoulders.
“Will the girls hear us?”
“I don’t care if they do,” I say.
I kiss him, rocking on his hips while I do, until we’re starting to make nice little noises. He’s trying to keep his breathing quiet, but I’m not.
“This feels good,” I tell him.
“This is heaven,” he agrees.
Mischa makes a groaning-moaning sound and flips me on my back and gets on top, and between my legs. We kiss and he holds my wrists above my head.
I look up at my hands.
This doesn’t feel good anymore.
I start convulsing like a fish pulled to the shore, and scream for my brother in a guttural and reflexive shout.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, releasing me.
I push out from under him and move back fast until I’m up against the external wall of the cabins. We both cover ourselves with blankets. My mouth is hanging open, catching my breath.
I am on a boat. The boat is on a lake. Deep in a forest. With a startled and confused boy. Who I don’t want to ever speak to again.
There’s a crashing sound from inside. Isobelle bursts out to the deck completely naked except for a small gun holstered to her ankle.
She has the most beautiful body imaginable.
Her curly red hair is covering her face, but her stage fright is obvious.
She’s been thrust on to center stage without warning.
She turns to us like her waiting audience, flips her hair and composes herself.
She’s bleary-eyed, as if she were asleep seconds ago.
She puts her game face on, and smiles like a minx.
She clears her throat and strikes a pose like a Greek statue.
“Hoo-hoo,” she hoots, like an owl.
Mischa is totally bewildered. I want to curl up and die, but the hoot makes me smile.
She goes to the side of the boat and throws up.
Most of it goes into the water, but the trail down the side of the boat has steam coming off it, like hot breath in cold air.
Her ass looks amazing from this view. Then she wipes her mouth, gets back into the middle of the deck and strikes another luxurious pose, and hoots again.
I break into a snigger. At the same time, I also want to die.
She begins singing the first few bars of an Edith Piaf song, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien.
“No, nothing at all,” she sings in French. Her voice is raspy. “No, I regret nothing.” Then she changes the lyrics seamlessly. “Does the innocent speak French?”
I shrug a fraction with one shoulder and reply also in French. “I love your beautiful voice.”
She steals a glance at me. “Where are you at?”
How distressed am I? I consider it. Not much. Humiliated? Twenty out of ten. I hold up two fingers.
“It’s not fair,” I say.
“I know, Baby,” she nods. “What about my tits, good?”
“Of course.”
“I think they were money well spent,” she says, and hoots like an owl again. “Can I smash them in your face?”
“Maybe later,” I tell her. “You are still a little intoxicated, my love.”
“Lucky for you. Your girlfriend’s tits are also available just inside. She loves you too.”
I’m so embarrassed I feel like gagging. I get up and set out the fishing gear. I can’t look at Mischa, and carry on as if he’s not there.
Isobelle throws up again. Normally Sabrina and Isobelle only drink as a social lubricant at big events so they can’t exactly keep up with Amelia and Hayden.
“I am never drinking again,” she heaves, and goes back inside.
I take the melted water from the ice bucket and clean Isobelle’s mess.
“You okay?” Mischa asks me.
I nod. “You still want to go fishing?”