History in the Make-Out

Duncan ground his teeth together, glaring at his girlfriend as she chatted up her ex. Granted it was for a great reason—they were part of the same team for a project worth 95% of their grade—but it grated his nerves, the way Trent Casterwell kept touching her. Didn't help that the obsessive creep kept taking up her time.

Gwen plucked Trent's hand from her upper arm for the tenth time, clearly displeased. Duncan silently wished she were a little more violent.

"Duncan!" his best friend and the only person in his group he could stand, Geoff Bays, repeated. "Dude, when are we gonna get those supplies?"

Duncan grunted in response, earning a quelling look from his ex, Courtney. And it, of course, had no effect on him. She ceased effecting him the minute she lip-locked his mortal enemy.

Gwen's laughter fluttered toward him, and his head snapped in the same direction. She was holding a Gothic dress to her lithe form (Hell, yeah, dating a poetic Goth had an effect on his vocabulary), and giggling it up with Geoff's secret crush, Bridgette.

"Why do we need duct tape anyways? We're doing a reenactment of the Naval Battle of Fort Wawanakwa. Hello, duct tape is a few centuries ahead."

The Battle of Fort Wawanakwa—also known as Why-the-Hell-Didn't-we-Just-Let-The-Pirates-Have-It-?I—was a harder than most skits. And Courtney had shot her mouth off and gotten it.

"Oh, your aura compliments that dress…" he heard his Neo-Hippie, Dawn, cousin say.

"Thanks, I think…" Gwen answered.

He almost cracked a smile, until he heard Trent say, "She totally rocks the part for Guinevere. And, not that I'm bragging, the part of Officer Claus is a lock on me."

Duncan growled. 'Guinevere' was the woman accused of witchcraft by the naval forces of East Port, now called Greystone city. She was moody, anti-social and had a weird poetic way of speaking which same from her educated background in Transylvania, where she'd relocated from. She fell in love with Officer Claus, and was engaged to him. But, just as their wedding had commenced, the dreaded pirate—Captain Skull Black, which Duncan ironically played in the Battle—spirited her right off the sand and stole her heart.

"You're the only guy who fits the costume…" Gwen conceded with what Duncan was pleased to identify as disdain.

"Duncan!" Courtney hissed.

"Bite me, prep school. I'll get the freakin' stuff…" He stood and, grabbed his keys from his pocket. "Hey Geoff, help me carry the crap."

"I could do it!" Scott said.

"Don't even think about it, castoff." Duncan threw behind him.

At his Dodge Charger—black, with green-flamed white skull—he popped the trunk and went around to the back to pick up the box of tools. Hefting the bow up, he spotted a thick corner sticking from under the passenger side seat. Putting the box on the roof, he pulled the corner out. The Memoirs of Guinevere, the romance novel edition, the cover read.

"What the…" He read the back.

Guinevere's diary romanticized into a historical romance for adults. Read, in great detail, all that Guinevere faced since docking in East Port.

"What y'cha got?" Goeff asked, coming up beside him.

He wiggled it in Geoff's face. "Must be Gwen's. I'll give it to her when we ride home. Bet she's lookin' for it…"

"Dude, that book is, like, the literary Karma Sutra!" Geoff exclaimed. "Bridgette has a copy. And since then…" He stared off, eyes glazed and a goofier than normal grin on his face.

Duncan frowned at the paperback. "Is it that interesting?"

"The sex scenes are like porn without pictures."

"Then it's not porn."

"Just- Dude, it's awesome! I bet Gwen got her book the same day Bridge got hers."

Duncan tossed it in the box. "Still givin' it to Gwen. It's a chick book."

"Read chapter 10 first." Geoff advised.

Choking back a yawn, Duncan leaned back in the seat of his car, waiting for Gwen to come out. On the seat was her chick book, unopened, her black-and-teal-feather bookmark still in place.

He stared at the plan cover, which showcased a pirate ship sailing on the waters. Nothing Karma Sutra-y about that.

"Yeah, a goldmine of sexual suggestions, Geoff. What crap are you taking now?" He picked it up and flipped to chapter 10 as a gag. Only to nearly choke as he read the first paragraph. And then the other. He devoured about three pages before the passenger side door opened. Instinctively, he stashed it under his seat.

"Sorry, I'm late Duncan." Gwen sighed. "Trent wanted to rehearse the Beach Wedding Scene again." She grimaced as she buckled in.

Duncan frowned. "That poser's asking for it." He started the car. "Are we still going to see Aliens Take Quebec III?"

"Yeah, wanna stay for dinner?" she offered. "Its chicken parmesan, with fresh store bought cheesecake for desert."

"Not even a damn zombie-vampire from hell could stop me, sunshine." He gave her a rakish grin and pressed on the gas.

"Hey, did you see a paperback in the car?" Gwen asked.

"Nope." The lie slid out before he even thought hard.

Gwen frowned. "I was so close to finishing too."

"Tell you what; I'll search later." He turned down the street and stopped at a stop sign that bore signs of graffiti. Hey, they never repainted over my signature, he mused.

"Really?" Gwen said.

"Anything for my sunshine." She smiled at him, her teal colored lips curving just so to get him riled up.

"You know, you may be a punk, but you're sweet."

"And you're bruising my ego." He grinned. "But it's nothing a lap dance won't fix."

"In your dreams."

"And I love every second."

"You're unscrupulous." Gwen defined.

"And horny, don't forget I'm completely horny." Duncan added, laughing when she folded her arms across her chest. It made her chest bigger.

"Now you'll never know what color my bra is," she declared as they stopped in her driveway.

He backpedalled. "Let's not be hasty, sunshine…"

AK: Ah, the true horniness that is Duncan. Love it! Please R&R