They later blamed the incident on the fact that neither his parents nor Andrew expected the other to be home. Boone and Shannon had told Andrew that they were going to the office for the afternoon, and he'd told them that he was going to Peter's until dinner. He had no reason whatsoever to sense them out, something he was always careful to do before entering the house with one of his friends. As he'd explained to Aaron at Christmas, he didn't like inviting his friends over unannounced because he never knew exactly what his folks would be up to, or in what compromising situation they might find them.
So it was without a second though that Andrew pushed the door to the kitchen open and entered, his friend Peter directly behind him, the scene that met Andrew's eyes momentarily hidden from the older boy.
Andrew came to a halt, drawing a sharp intake of breath, Peter ran into his back then stepped around him, ready to snap on him, but stopped at what he saw.
Shannon had Boone bent backwards on top of the kitchen table, his heels actually right off the floor as he lay on the wooden surface. They were kissing passionately, Boone's hands up under the back of her t-shirt, her hands pinning his shoulders to the wooden surface.
"Holy shit!" The much older boy blurted out. With Andrew advancing so quickly through school, most of his friends were several years older than he was.
The two on the table stopped immediately, startled, so wrapped up in each other they hadn't heard the boys enter, both their heads jerked towards the sound.
Shannon pulled back slowly as Boone struggled frantically to rise, his face almost fuchsia in embarrassment, Shannon, of course, was cool as a cucumber. She held out her hand to help him up as he slid off the table to his feet.
Andrew wasn't sure if he was more pissed off or embarrassed and couldn't decide if he wanted to cry or yell at them. He wouldn't have thought twice about their behaviour if he'd been alone, he'd certainly caught them in far more compromising positions than kissing on the kitchen table, it was the fact that his friend had seen them too. He supposed it could have been worse; they could have been naked, anything was possible with his parents, he knew.
Boone's next words made him realize that he was mad at them for something they had no of way of knowing – that he was even home, or that he had a friend with him.
"We, uh, that is, um, you said you'd be gone until supper. We weren't, uh, expecting you until then, and, uh, not Peter either. Sorry," he stammered, gesturing at the table from which he'd just risen.
Shannon turned and walked to the fridge and started rifling around in it, she'd ceased being embarrassed by her actions when she was younger than Andrew, though she drew perverse pleasure from humiliating Boone whenever she could. That this was one of those occasions that this had happened without preplanning only made it sweeter, she grinned to herself in the cool interior of the appliance, kind of sorry that Andrew had been affected too, though she knew he could roll with it.
Andrew's anger was completely diffused by Boone's stuttered apology, but not his embarrassment though. He glanced at his friend who was grinning slyly, no doubt considering how much mileage he was going to get out of recounting this at school.
Andrew just shook his head in resignation and laughed a few times trying to diminish the impact of the situation. "Whatever," he shrugged, "I thought you were going to the office.
"We decided it could wait until Monday." Boone looked back and forth between the two boys, still a bit nervous. "So, um, why are you home?"
As Shannon came back from her foray into the depths of the fridge with a couple of bottles of water and handed one to her husband, Andrew explained that they'd scrapped their original plans and had decided to play a game on his computer in his room.
"Have fun," she shrugged. "Knock yourselves out."
The boys headed past her, Peter giving her an appreciative glance as he went up the stairs behind his friend.
She turned back to Boone, "Are we going to finish what we started?" She grabbed the front of his t-shirt and pulled him towards her, trying to drag him towards the stairs.
"Shit no! The boys are home!" He wondered what the hell she was thinking.
"I'm hot and horny, Boone, you'd better take care of that." She stroked her fingers down his face and then grasped him through his jeans.
"How about the gym?" he suggested, gasping and pushing her hand firmly away from his crotch.
"On the rowing machine? You could be the coxswain." She wrinkled her nose in amusement at the word.
"God, what are you, like twelve? No fucking rowing machine, how would that even work anyway?" He frowned trying to wrap his mind around the logistics, then shook his head at the impossibility. He considered again, "The garage?" he suggested next.
"We've done the garage." She pointed out.
"I'm sorry for my lack of originality; there's only so many options, we don't live in Disneyland you know." He pointed out needlessly.
"Oooh, Pirates of the Caribbean, Johnny Depp! I would definitely do Johnny Depp, he's so hot!" She gave a bit of a fan girl squee adding a lascivious grin.
"Good lord, you are twelve! Anyway Shan, Pirates of the Caribbean was like seven years ago, I don't even know if they still have that ride, and I think you'd agree to have sex with the Roto Rooter man and still find it hot." He rolled his eyes, no trace of jealousy.
"You make baiting you, Boone, no fun at all," she pouted.
"Sorry, I guess I just know that you're mine." He grinned and wrinkled his nose in a perfect imitation of her.
"Asshat!"
"Bitch!"
"The garage?"
"Now!" Boone agreed grabbing her hand and pulling her for the door, snatching his car keys on the way past.
The confined space was stifling in the July California summer afternoon. The heat hit them like a fist and made them sluggish almost immediately. Boone crossed to his car and depressed the button on the remote key, the buttons all popped up and the red flashing security lights stopped winking.
He pulled her to him desperately, crushing his mouth against hers. "How can I still want you so badly?" He asked backing away for a second.
"You want me badly?" She licked her tongue across her lips seductively, "I can do bad…badly, I'm not so sure of."
"Just not roughly, we fucked that up pretty much." He reminded her.
"No biting," she confirmed. "Back seat?"
"No, front." He led her around to the passenger door and opened it. Finding a burst of energy, their clothes were stripped off in seconds, Boone was sure if the Guinness people kept records for such a thing, they would have won.
He pushed her into the seat and then manoeuvred himself to a kneeling position between her legs on the floor of the car. When he reached for her hips and pulled her to the edge of the seat, she propped her heels on the dashboard to either side of him. "We're crazy, you know that right?" He asked.
"Certifiable," she was already reaching for him.
It was slow and languid, the heat making them think of every movie ever set in the Louisiana bayou. Shannon moved rhythmically against him as he thrust into her. When it was done, Boone collapsed against her sweaty torso.
"You're going to go to sleep, aren't you?" She murmured. Sated and spent, she barely had the strength to form the words, having a hard time keeping her own eyes open.
She wasn't sure if someone could actually get half a syllable of 'no' out, but somehow Boone managed it before he was out cold.
In his dream state, Boone's torpid brain convinced him that there was a woodpecker striking against the siding of the house, the irritating noise gradually bringing him to wakefulness, the sound, however not ceasing. He raised his head groggily. Andrew was standing at the back of the car, tapping on the truck with his knuckles. Boone jerked to fully aware with a sharp intake of breath at the sight of his son, his eyes widening as he realized the position he was in. He glanced down, Shannon was still sound asleep, he pressed his chest against hers making sure than Andrew didn't get an eyeful of something Boone was sure he'd rather not see.
Andrew shrugged and grimaced in apology before turning away, 'Sorry, Boone, but I needed to ask you something, and you've been in here for over an hour, so...'
'What?' Boone responded, surprised so much time had passed and wondering what the hell could be important enough that Andrew would have chanced coming in the garage to begin with. The kid wasn't stupid; he would have known exactly what they were doing.
'Peter's mom called and invited me for supper, is it okay if I go?' Andrew stared fixedly at the wall of the garage, noticing randomly that according to the memo Boone had tacked beside the door the oil change for Shannon's car was scheduled for next week.
'Supper? You came in here to ask about supper?' It was so anti-climactic Boone breathed a little laugh. When Andrew nodded, Boone gave his permission, relaxing when then boy left. His relief was short lived however, when he realized that his legs were cramped up so badly that he couldn't even feel them, let alone move. He pushed himself up on his arms and woke Shannon.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she commented as she struggled to extricate herself from him and get out of the car.
She stood by the door and watched while he grabbed both sides of the seat and hoisted himself into it, twisting awkwardly to lie on his back, his legs flopping about uselessly.
"No more adventurous sex!" He declared, lifting his thighs with his hands and trying to shake some blood into his lower extremities.
"Spoilsport," Shannon huffed starting to think he was never going to be able get out of the automobile. "You in there permanently? Cause I can just imagine, once we trade it in, the car salesman trying to unload it as a resale. 'This is our 2011 model, folks, it comes complete with a manual transmission, a diesel engine, and a naked man in the passenger seat.' The women might like the added upgrade, Boone, but I think most of the guys might have a problem with that degree of customization."
"I'm going to get out of the car Shan! Just help me get the circulation going back in my legs." Boone shifted sideways and hung his legs out the door. Shannon crouched and began to rub them vigorously.
"Shit, shit, shit!" He swore after a minute.
"What now?" she rolled her eyes.
"The feeling's starting to come back, fuck it hurts, help me up." Boone held his arms out. She grabbed his wrists and hauled him to his feet. He swayed a bit unsteadily, then staggered forward, unable to stop himself, pinning her against the hood of her car, parked beside his.
She squirmed out from under him, "Get the fuck off me!"
He grabbed for support, bracing his hands on the fender.
Shannon shook her head and walked away.
"Where are you going?" he cried.
"I'm just putting my clothes back on. If I have to call the paramedics to come and take you away, I don't really want to greet them in the nude." She reached down for her underwear and started to dress while he stamped his feet repeatedly, grimacing through the pins and needles shooting up from his calves.
"So do you think you can walk now?" She asked as she finished dressing, pulling her t-shirt over her head
"Yeah," he leaned cautiously away from her car and put his weight on his right leg, it seemed to hold. "Would you hand me my pants?"
"Nope, you can get them yourself; didn't you just say you can walk?" She headed for the exit.
"Hey, what happened to taking better care of me?" He asked.
"I think taking better care of you stops short of dressing you, Boone." She was almost to the door.
"I didn't want you to dress me, I just thought it wouldn't kill you to toss me my pants!" He was yelling at empty air, she'd already left the structure.
Grumbling to himself, he stepped a little more surely away from the support of the car and bent down to retrieve his clothes.