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A trickle of salty sweat blazed a trail between her breasts causing her to shiver, raising goosebumps along its path. It was stiflingly hot. This summer in Harlan County, Kentucky was particularly unbearable. The days dragged on, sweltering sun baking the earth, heat radiating off the bluegrass down by the pond, everything shimmering like a mirage. Ava had come here late in the afternoon, searching desperately for some relief from the moist air that hung like an oppressive blanket around her, making it hard to breathe.
She imagined the icy cool waters off the pier as she peeled off her socks and hitched her flowered sundress up and off over her head. She hadn't had the forethought to remember her suit, so this was going to be like old times, a skinny dip. She smiled as she recalled how she and Raylan and Boyd would play hooky for a day and sneak off when the teacher was otherwise occupied.
They'd walk and laugh and joke their way to this very spot decades ago, all three sipping from one frosty glass bottle of Coke, because it was all they could afford between them.
Raylan would often walk with his shirt off. His lips would quirk into that big, beaming, infectious smile of his when he caught her admiring his long, wiry physique, glowing dewy and golden in the sun. He was as lean as a blade, hard and sinewy from his time in the mines.
Boyd was equally a fine a specimen, though he was often heavier with muscle. He seemed somewhat bashful around Raylan especially when it came to physical competition like they'd always engage in at the pond. Ava had always chocked it up to him being a younger brother, probably getting picked on at home. While Boyd was built well, he was shorter than Raylan, and smaller still than Bowman, his big brother. She liked him then because he was dangerous and wily, like some feral cat, and yet equally kind, considerate and smart.
There was nothing the three of them together couldn't handle. She laughed fondly to herself at the memory of one night, after Francis had died and Raylan suffered a particularly brutal go-round with Arlo, she and the boys sneaked up here late at night to drink stolen beer and listen to Lynyrd Skynyrd. They drank til she puked, then the boys drank some more. Raylan's eyes were wild with anger and fear. The bruises had begun to raise on his cheek and his lip was split. His knuckles were bloodied and ragged. Boyd brought his momma's leftover barbeque. The boys ate most of it and Ava nibbled a drumstick. They'd laid in the grass, all three of them silent, gazing up at the stars as the truck stereo cooed quietly in the distance. She thought about how small and insignificant they were in the universe, how she dreamed of escaping Harlan. She'd marry some millionaire horse breeder, have a beautiful home, raise a pack of babies. She dreamed Raylan and Boyd would get out too. They deserved happiness, each of them.
She leaped off the dock into the cool, dark abyss below. A myriad of tiny bubbles effervesced around her, caressing every inch of her body, rinsing away the day's sweat and grime and years of stress. It made her shiver as the familiar fizzing in her tummy conjured up still more memories of nights gone by here at the water. With the water swirling around her lapping cool against her skin, bubbles dancing before her eyes and holding her breath, she remembered the gentle lovemaking she shared here with Bowman, in the very same grass she had laid in with Boyd and Raylan the summer before. Bowman had been sweet and boyish before they married and he lost his football scholarship to Kentucky University. It had been his ticket out. Hers, too. They laid still in the grass for an hour afterward, cool air raising gooseflesh on their damp skin, listening to the crickets, fingers and legs entwined, high on endorphins and his daddy's moonshine. She surfaced again, breaching the mirror plane of water to see the silhouette of a tall stranger in a stetson casting a long shadow in her direction.
As she rubbed the water from her eyes she recognized the image of Deputy US Marshal Givens standing on the pier. His raised eyebrows and curled lip were both quizzical and playful. Startled and starved for air from her dive, she inhaled sharply, then instinctively reached an arm across her breasts in an effort to conceal herself.
"Raylan Givens!" she beamed, her heart beating a little faster than before. "What brings you all the way out to Hautman's Pond on this beautiful day?" Her line of sight drifted from the pools of liquid fire that were raging in his eyes, shadowed beneath his hat, to his luscious pink, moist lips. His tongue darted out between his teeth, lapping at his bottom lip as it often did. A rugged hand dragged across his stubble and made an audible chafing noise. Her eyes paused a moment to admire the angle of his jaw, curve of his clavicle and the place where his neck meets his robust chest, then continued down his broad shoulders, along his rolled up plaid shirt sleeves, ensconcing his muscular biceps. His sinewy forearms jutted out from there, glowing in the sun with a tropical Miami tan and his strong hands grip his tank top just above the place his gun and badge were usually clipped to the worn blue jeans on his beautifully sculpted hip. He was in fine fettle, to be certain.
The booming timbre of his voice rumbling from his throat, gravelly and aged, jostled her out of her mind and back to reality.
"I 'spect, the same as you, Ava. I come for a swim. Now, I see this hole is taken. I 'magine I'll move down the way a bit, so's you can keep your privacy."
"I wouldn't mind some company, Marshal," grinned Ava with a playful tone, "so's long as you'll promise no funny business. I've a reputation to uphold here in the County."
Raylan's lips curled into a smile, revealing a flash of brilliant white teeth and he laughed. The sound sent a chill through Ava, even in this sweltering heat. Goosebumps raised along her body and fire licked her belly.
She watched him as he carefully removed his hat, hung it on the tree and tugged at his boots. His hat was joined by his plaid shirt. Suddenly she was aware of his eyes on her again. She glanced at his face, to see his eyes looking back at her.
She smirked and teased him a bit, eventually telling him she'd turn away if he was bashful. He beamed that beautiful smile her way again.
She lingered a moment longer to watch him strip off his tank top, muscles dancing under the resplendent skin and wicked trail of hair on his belly as he lifted it over his head.
His boyish build was gone, there stood a man. He was still lean, but hard and rugged. His hide bore familiar scars from those times with Arlo, but also foreign ones from bar room brawls, gunshot wounds and close calls with knives.
As he fiddled with his belt buckle Ava felt strangely timid, having a sudden awareness that they'd only seen each other nude in fleeting moonlight glimpses those times at the lake as kids. She decided she'd best respect his privacy and swam to face the open water.
A moment later she heard his feet running down the pier and was tempted to turn by what she imagined was a heavenly sight barreling down at her in all his naked glory. Before she could, the rhythmic cadence of Raylan's long strides slapping on the wood stopped and the accompanying splash that followed told her she was too late, the sight was submerged beneath the dark waters.
She turned anyway, looking for the telltale bubble trail that was Givens working his way back toward the surface. He materialized a short distance from her, puffing the air with his thick hair mussed and shining.
"Wooo!" he exclaimed. "It's cold!" He smiled all over and bobbed up and down in the water. "Sure feels nice though," shaking the liquid from his ears and wiping a big paw down over his face. His reedy arms waved a circle around him, creating tiny ripples that crashed into Ava's body. They swam side by side and laughed for a spell. The wind picked up. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
"Storm's coming," Raylan said, eyes darkening like the sky. Ava sensed there was a storm brewing within him as well. She made her way casually to the pier and clung to it.
"We'd best head in, then," she said. He nodded in agreement.
"Ladies first," he grinned wickedly at her.
He paddled in place, strong shoulders glistening above the water as she grabbed onto the first rung of the ladder. Shaky at first, she began to lift out of the coolness, back into the impossibly moist heat.
Emboldened by his eyes blazing holes into her back, she smirked and lifted herself into the sunshine. She wiggled a little more than her usual walk as she scampered to where she'd left her clothing.
He admired the supple curves of her smooth skin a moment. When she pulled her dress over her head she felt the dock shift under his weight. She turned to catch him pulling his jeans up around his hips.
They gathered the miscellaneous underthings they had shed and walked barefoot and damp back to Raylan's Crown Vic. The air was even heavier now, blowing hot and hard around her knees and against his exposed chest.
The sky opened up and the rain came down in torrents. It battered into the dust, drenching the cracked earth and them. They reached the car out of breath from the short sprint in the muggy, stagnant air. He fired up the engine and turned on the wipers.
They arrived at Ava's a short time later, she lent him some of Bowman's old clothes and changed into another sundress. The rain continued to pound down on the roof, unrelenting. The sound was deafening on the tin roof of the porch.
They sat, drinking sweet tea laced with bourbon in the cool breeze as the dryer tumbled their clothing. Raylan sat barefoot, long legs crossed in front of him on the porch swing, boots upturned near the fire pit. His eyes danced in the light of the flames.
Being around him was dangerous, she thought.
She settled on the chair across the pit from him. He was not unlike that fire, mesmerizing and beautiful, combustible, consuming and destructive.
She was lost in her thoughts, watching him in a rare moment of stillness. He looked peaceful as the wind and rain swirled around him, tousling his hair.
He draped himself over the swing and laid his head against the arm. The swing was too small for this and his outstretched feet rested on the porch railing beyond. They both started at the same time when the lights hit the drive.
It was Boyd's truck. He was returning home from the mine.
She wondered how this would turn out with these two men so often at each others throats under the same roof.
The serene look of peace that had been on Raylan's face was gone. He stiffened. His brow was furrowed, his hand wandered reflexively to where his holster would be, had he not been wearing Bowman's oversized jeans. He reached instead for his damp hat hanging on a peg by the door. Running a paw through his unkempt hair, he settled it low over his dark eyes.
Boyd climbed out of his truck, coal dust smeared over his face and clothes.
'Evenin, Ava,' he drawled as he ascended the steps.
The unrelenting rain mussed his hair but did nothing to budge the smudges on him. His eyes caught the movement of the swing and he glanced towards it.
"Why, hello, Raylan," he said to the hat over the still man's eyes. He tugged a handkerchief from his overalls and ran it over his face and along the back of his neck.
"I'll be down directly, just as soon as I've cleaned up and we can talk about whatever it is you think I've done this time," he said, blackened hand on the door.
Raylan stirred, swimming in Bowman's clothes, but said nothing. After Boyd disappeared into the house, the cowboy Marshal stood.
"Thank you, ma'am for the tea and dry clothes. I'd best be heading out," he burped up in a yawn and unfurled his arms, arching his back.
"You're welcome to stay for dinner, Raylan. You know you've missed my fried chicken."
"That's awful tempting, Ava." he said, apparently considering it. This surprised Ava, as normally when a Givens gets an idea in his head, there's no changing it.
"Besides," she pressed on, "the dryers not done yet. You can't go home just yet."
"Alright Ava, I'll stay. For dinner." He smiled that electric smile at her one more time, and it sparked something deep within her chest. She grinned big back at him and scampered into the house to start a few more fixings.
Raylan stood on the porch a bit longer, leaning against the railing. The rain had let up a moment. Fog roiled off the grass all around the house.
It reminded him of the last time he and Boyd had been together, that terrible coal dust swirling around them choking out the light from their eyes and air from their lungs as they bolted for the surface, holding fast to the sleeves of each others overalls. The memory sent a chill down his spine.
This Marshal wasn't afraid of much; in fact, at times he enjoyed the adrenaline rush of deliberately allowing a punch to hit its mark square in his gut or not raising his arms as he fell face first into an asphalt parking lot. He could star down a gun thug, goad him into drawing and laugh with his superiors afterward.
He was afraid of that mine, though. The weight of the earth threatening to swallow you whole. The ache of your back from crawling around the cramped quarters all day, unable to stand. The numbness in your brain from the stagnant, dead air and incessant heat. The rumbling growl of hell when it got ready to collapse around you, pinning you in the darkness miles below the safety, sun and cool air of the surface.
He shook it off and walked back into the house. Thankfully, Boyd was still in the shower. The aroma of chicken and sizzling grease filled the home. As he turned to latch the screen door, he noted another, less welcome scent. It was emanating from Boyd's jacket on the rack. The deep stench of earth, Emulex, sweat and coal made his head spin and his gut boil.
"You ok, Marshal?" came a voice booming from the staircase. Raylan started and looked away from the jacket to see Boyd at the steps. Boyd looked at him quizzically. Raylan's face was drawn and pale. Tiny beads of sweat shined on his ashen forehead. As quickly as it appeared, the look was gone and ever-cool lawman Givens was there once more.
"Yeah, Boyd," Raylan said and swallowed hard. He forced a smile and drew his hand over his damp face. "I'm alright."
"So," Boyd said, motioning for Raylan to follow to the kitchen, "Whadda 'spose I had a hand in this time, Marshal? Another oxy-bus get blown to hell? Body turn up?"
Raylan smiled at his old friend's brazen wit as Boyd leaned into the fridge. "No, no. It's not like that Boyd. I ran into Ava down at Hautman's Pond. We went for a swim like old times and got caught in the rain. We came back here to dry off and catch up."
He saw something flash in Boyd's eyes for an instant. He thought it might be envy or jealousy, but as soon as it boiled up it was willed back into silence.
"Mmm, I see." Boyd cracked a beer open in the door jam, as deftly as a college frat boy and handed the frosted bottle to Raylan. He repeated the fluid movement on his own and took a long pull.
They walked back to the dining room, where Ava had spread a feast on the table set with her good china. There were candles and wine and fresh homemade rolls.
The men sat at opposite ends of the table, Raylan facing the door and Boyd perched over the blood stain that represented all that remained of his big brother.
Ava came in, lovely golden hair pinned back from her face, falling on her shoulder in soft curls. Her skin glowed in the candlelight, soft and dewy from the heat. She carried a very large plate of chicken and struggled to heft it onto the table.
Raylan stood, as he was closest to her. He hoisted it's weight in one strong hand, and rested the other one Ava's elbow to steady her.
The rough tips of his fingers pressed tight to the flesh of her arm sent electricity shooting down her arm. She drank in the scent of his cologne. Her head swam and her pulse quickened. He released the searing grip on her elbow and pulled her chair out. She was grateful as her knees felt wobbly. They both sat down.
The three of them ate and laughed and drank for a hour or so. Raylan regaled them with tales of tracking wanted felons to the ends of the world. Boyd talked about his service, a short stint in college thereafter and returning to the mines later.
Ava felt both admiration for what they had done and sorrow for herself, having never done any of the things she'd thought she would all those years ago in the grass by the pond.
They washed dishes together and cleared the dining room. The rain had started again, the pitter-patter on the roof made Ava sleepy and that meant the night was drawing to a close.
She turned the radio on low while they finished putting away the dishes to drive it back a little while longer.
The bluegrass tune was upbeat and fun. Boyd tapped his toes and drummed his fingers on the island.
All three danced and laughed and for a moment they were those kids at the lake again. The song ended and Lynyrd Skynyrd crackled through the static.
They stopped dancing and soft smiles came to their faces as all three seemed to remember the same moment in time, lying in the grass. Sadness crossed Ava's face first as regret crept back into her bones.
She was desperate to feel anything other than the empty sorrow growing in her at that moment. Thinking of Bowman and her dreams and her youth all gone, she felt the tears well up.
She leaned into Boyd where he rested against the island and kissed him deep.
He pulled back at first, shocked at the sudden contact. When she deepened the kiss and wrapped her arms around his waist, he reciprocated. She snaked in between his knees and pressed herself to him, one hand releasing its hold to rub his thigh. He smelled of soap and tasted like cheap beer.
When they didn't uncouple, Raylan started to feel like a third wheel and breathed a sigh into his beer. He set the bottle down on the counter and turned to walk to the laundry and retrieve his clothing.
He was at the door of the kitchen when familiar hands danced across his belly, stopping him in his tracks. Beneath those fingers, his stomach fluttered and roiled.
Ava stood on her tip toes to trace her tongue along the vein pulsating in his neck. His nipples perked up and goosebumps raised along his arms. She felt him shiver in her arms.
She secretly loved that she could manipulate men like this. It was delicious being in control. She could turn the most stalwart man to a quivering puddle with her feminine wiles. She spun him to face her. His eyes betrayed his surprise, but his expression was cool as always.
She ran her palms up his hard stomach and over his peck muscles. He held his hands up, like she had a bead on him.
She wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled his lips to meet hers. He kissed her timidly, brushing his lips to hers.
She slipped her tongue into his mouth and crushed her lips to his.
He lowered his athletic arms around her, lifting her off the ground easily. His dark eyes retreated behind fluttering eyelashes.
She raked her fingernails down his back, feeling his muscles ripple beneath them.
He suddenly released her and snapped back. He looked down at her, panting and breast heaving. His mind screamed at him to leave but his body resisted fervently.
Boyd perched on his bar stool at the island, looking hungrily at the two of them. Ava saw Raylan's gears turning, as he wondered how the three of them fit into this puzzle in her head.
She grabbed his face, tearing his eyes off Boyd and kissed him again. She whispered into his mouth, tasting the bourbon and beer lingering there, "don't think so much, cowboy." Without breaking the exquisite contact between their lips, her deft fingers undid the buttons on Bowman's shirt.
She trailed kisses along his neck and clavicle and peeled the shirt over his shoulders. Her fingers and tongue traced a jagged, pale scar on his tanned shoulder.
He sunk his teeth into her ear, his hot breath coming in short, stilted bursts filling it. She moaned into his body.
She felt another set of hands around her buttocks and a second body snug on her back.
She felt Raylan stiffen and start to pull away as Boyd closed in. She closed her mouth around his nipple, desperate to keep him there. She hooked her thumbs into his belt loops and fiddled with his belt. He moaned and quivered with his head back. He backed away slower now.
Boyd lifted her hair away from her neck and brushed his fingers along her collarbone. He lightly trailed kisses along her shoulder and arm.
All three pressed into the door jam, pinning Raylan in place. His hands were glued to the molding, knuckles white from gripping.
She unbuckled his belt and jeans and let them fall to the floor around his feet. She closed her fingers around him. His was silky and warm and throbbing. He growled from his place against the wall. His hips rocked against her. His jaw muscles twitched.
Boyd was already working on his own clothes pressed tightly against Ava's behind.
Raylan released his grip on the door and turn his attentions to her dress. He ran his hands up the satin skin of her thighs. She cried out with anticipation. Her body ached for them.
Boyd worked on her dress straps and peeled them off her shoulders, exposing her breasts to Raylan. He took advantage of the opportunity, closing his mouth around a nipple. She shuddered and moaned. He lifted her dress up around her waist, raised her leg around him and cupped her supple behind.
Boyd was there too, one hand on her ankle and another on her free breast. They lifted her effortlessly between them.
Boyd found the center of her, dripping wet and hot. He touched her from behind, fingers deftly sending waves of pleasure shooting from her stomach to her toes.
She arched her back into him, raising her neck and breasts to Raylan's eager mouth. He took her weight easily on his own, braced against the door and sucked at a freckle on her chest.
Boyd sunk a finger deep into her sublime wetness, collected some of the moisture and rubbed it on himself.
He slid into her tight behind, and she gasped and the sensation. She let go of Raylan, her toes curled and her head lolled back onto Boyd's shoulder.
She shifted her weight towards him and he took her legs from Raylan.
The Marshal, still tonging her nipple, touched her clit sending her mind reeling and her body squirming.
Boyd steadied himself against the opposite door frame. He grunted feeling her quiver around him.
Raylan shoved them both backwards, eager and wanting. He plowed into her wetness, growling and panting.
Ava screamed with equal parts pleasure and pain. It'd been a long time since she'd had a man, and she felt suddenly stretched to the limits.
As Raylan drilled into her, she pulled his hair and rested her free hand on Boyd's well muscled thigh.
Raylan bit one shoulder to keep from moaning and grabbed her thigh so tightly she knew she'd have bruises the next day.
He wrapped his free arm around her waist, between her and Boyd and took some of her weight back.
She twisted around to kiss Boyd deeply. He worked her nipple with able fingers. He broke the kiss and nibbled her ear as his breath got more ragged and shallow. She felt him start to shudder and get weaker.
Raylan must have felt it too because he took her weight on himself again.
Boyd grabbed her hips and held her still while he thrust fast and deep against Raylan's steady strength. The snarl and stream of obscenities emanating from Boyd combined with Raylan's thumb rubbing rhythmically on her clit pulled her over the edge with Boyd. They writhed and wriggled and groaned together, riding the crest of pleasure out to the end.
Boyd puffed the air until he stood on a firm foundation again.
When she returned to earth, she looked at the Marshal. His eyes were burning coals. He bit his lip and fisted his hand in Ava's hair.
He leaned into the two of them forcing her weight back into Boyd's arms. He held Ava's weight and her knees apart for Raylan. The pleasure began to build in her stomach again, stronger this time. Raylan grabbed the door behind Boyd and used it for leverage.
He was brutal, almost primal in his approach.
The door frame dug into Boyd's back. His knees felt weak from the expenditure. He hoped Raylan would finish soon so he could put Ava down, though he did enjoy seeing them wet and delirious with ecstasy together. Ava clung to Raylan, arms around his strong shoulders, one leg hooked around his hip. She moaned gibberish into his ear. Hearing the noise she was making combined with the wildness of Raylan's eyes got him stirring again inside of her.
He could feel Raylan's thrusts through her and her warmth dripping down him. He started pumping again, grinding his hips into her luscious ass. He felt tense waves of pleasure pooling in his stomach, swirling around his guts.
Raylan felt it too. He was surprised that his old friend was ready to go again so soon.
Feeling Ava go as limp as a ragdoll, eyes rolling, toes curled and mouth mumbling nonsense in concert with Boyd's insistent thrusting causing her body to roll and her breasts to bounce in front of his face turned him on.
His legs started feeling like jello. The need for release was stronger now than ever. He felt like he might melt into a puddle of liquid fire if it didn't happen soon.
His muscles were tight and achy. His nerves were ablaze. He was flush and out of breath and sweat poured off of his body and onto hers. His jaw hurt from clenching. His pulse pounded through his veins, and in his ears drowning out the rain and radio and the rest of the world save the noises and smells and sensations coming from these two old friends.
Ava met his eyes and locked her hand into his hair. She pulled until it hurt and he liked it.
She glowed, her hair spilling around her face like strands of spun gold. Boyd's rough hands worked where Raylan couldn't. His face was buried in Ava's neck. Her other hand grabbed Raylan's hip bone and clawed into it.
The pain startled him, but not to the same degree as how much he liked it did. She stiffened and moaned expletives louder and louder into the ceiling.
She got wetter than he thought possible. Her hips bucked against them, with what little leverage she had. She was slippery and warm and never ending.
He and Boyd thrust in alternating rhythm. Ava's voice went shrill and hoarse. Her breath was ragged and stilted.
Boyd's hand clasped around her mouth and turned her head away from them. He nibbled on her neck causing her to yelp. His eyes locked onto Raylan's looking for that feral fire he'd seen before.
Ava bit down on his palm and pulled him over with her. She rammed her hands down on Raylan's shoulder and Boyd's thigh, digging her nails into their flesh.
Boyd searched for something to hold on to and found Raylan's hip convenient. The roughness of his hands, the strength of his grip and the soft wetness of her clamped around him and quaking in waves of pleasure released Raylan.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck..." he growled into her neck, hot breath caressing her nerve endings, and shuddered against them. His drilling slowed and stopped.
They remained tangled and heaving for a moment, leaning against Raylan's side of the door.
He lifted Ava off himself and Boyd and all three collapsed to the cool tile of Ava's kitchen floor.
Raylan laid on his stomach, letting his face rest on the tile. His breath fogged up a patch in front of his luscious mouth. He looked at Ava, laying on Boy'd chest. He felt her fingers lazily drawing shapes in the slickness of the small of his back.
Boyd's hand wrapped under her back and rested possessively on her hip. Her leg draped over Boyd and her toes traced Raylan's calf muscle.
They rested for a bit, with the sounds of rain drizzling on the roof, the crickets chirping outside the kitchen window and bluegrass low on the radio through the static.
Ava woke up first and carefully extricated herself from Boyd's grip and Raylan's limbs. She stood and looked down at them asleep on the floor.
Looking at them as they slept, you'd think they were simple men.
They were exhausted but blissful. All three were at peace.
She grabbed a pillow from the closet and threw it on the bed with the two that were already there. The alcohol and lack of sleep made her head swim. She went down stairs to wake the boys.
They, too, were feeling the alcohol. They'd had much more than she. They each groaned as they picked themselves up off the floor.
Raylan's knees creaked and Boyd's back ached. The three of them hobbled upstairs to the cool sheets and comfortable mattress of Ava's bed.
They slept the night through, cuddled together.
Ava knew tomorrow Raylan would wake, shower and leave breaking the spell forever but tonight they were all hers.
She relished the minutes before sleep took her over again.