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Reckless Youth: Reckless - The Smoky Mountain Trio

Page 3

by Sierra Hill


  My body screamed for something it didn’t understand it wanted or needed. Every muscle and cell came alive with need - tensing and tightening, flashing with desire. Especially when his tongue swept over my lips, over my teeth with deep, probing flicks. He sucked on my tongue – the sensation zinging low in my belly.

  The kiss may have lasted for five minutes. Or forever. I had no idea and lost all sense of time, but we were reluctantly pulled apart by the sing-song voice of my momma calling for me from the house.

  “London! It’s time to wash up for supper.”

  I let go of a breath I’d been holding in and I stared wide-eyed into his hungry gaze. I’d never seen Cam wear such an expression and it both scared and thrilled me at the same time.

  “You best be going in,” he drawled, licking his lip and flashing a lazy grin. “Wouldn’t want your momma to think I was doing anything to corrupt her baby girl.”

  But I want to be corrupted by you, I silently pleaded.

  My fingers brushed over my sensitive lips, left puffy and tingly from his impressive kissing skills. Now I understood why the girls in our class went cross-eyed over Cam. Especially the girls he’d been with.

  “Yes, I guess I should go.” I tried to convince myself to leave, but instead, raised myself up on tiptoe and took his mouth with mine again.

  Cam chuckled into my mouth but was silenced just as quickly.

  The kiss wasn’t long, but it was wholly satisfying and left me reeling from the emotional consequences that this would certainly have on us going forward.

  I turned to swim back to the bank but was stopped abruptly as his hand snatched my wrist and yanked me back to him. Water surged and pooled between us but didn’t stop him from kissing me one last time. A lingering kiss to let me know he was mine. And I, his.

  “London,” he muttered, his voice more raspy than usual. “I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time.”

  My eyes formed wide circles from his confession. I’ve never even considered it before now. Cam has always been my best friend. The one I told all my secrets to and shared all my hopes and dreams.

  Now I was left with confusion over what would happen next. How would this kiss change us? Would we remain friends? Would we keep this a secret from Sage? Would we kiss again soon?

  Sage.

  There he was again, always on my mind even when being consumed by Cam, his name at the tip of my tongue.

  Surely, Cam and I wouldn’t let this happen again, because I couldn’t stand hurting Sage. We were family to him and he needed us, just like I needed him.

  I’m not sure how Cam felt about any of that, but we’d have to talk about it at some point.

  My mother’s voice now a little more irritated, came again, and I jumped out of the water and wrapped myself in the towel I’d brought with me earlier in the day.

  When I looked back down at Cam, he was still wading in the water with a tight-lipped smile and his eyes were glazed over with a tortured look.

  “Are you getting out?” I asked, curious as to why he was just standing there.

  Cam waved me along. “You go on. I’ll call you later.”

  I lifted a shoulder with a ‘suit yourself’ shrug and tucked the towel flap in between my breasts. My nipples were distended from the excitement that coursed through me. I nearly floated across the backyard and poppy-filled field to my back door where momma was waiting for me.

  Waiting for her little girl that at seventeen had just received her first kiss and was on the verge of womanhood.

  A young woman now uncertain about where she stood with her best friend. And what it would all mean to her other best friend.

  Chapter 5

  Over the next three weeks, Cam and I never had another opportunity to be alone together. As we waited out the heat of July and moved into the hot, sticky August nights, it was always the three of us together.

  In fact, it was as if the kiss between us had never even happened. Either that or Cam hadn’t enjoyed it at all, because he made it perfectly clear that he’d rather be anywhere else but alone with me. Anytime that Sage was busy, Cam chose to stay away and made excuses to avoid being alone with me.

  It filled me with confusion and made me regret that moment in the river with Cam.

  You shouldn’t have done it.

  Although it stung, I wasn’t going to press Cam and embarrass myself any further, so I became good at avoiding the topic and left well enough alone. Everything else remained the same; we regularly texted, but only discussing random things and safe topics.

  One starry-night in August, Sage and I had gone to one of the latest hero blockbusters in town. Cam was out of town with his parents on a college scouting trip.

  Sage and I walked home from the theater hand in hand, talking about the movie and our rating of the performances of the very hot list of actors when he stopped and stared at me with a very serious expression.

  “How come you never go out with anyone other than me and Cam?” he’d asked, surprising me by the topic of conversation.

  “What do you mean? Like date? I don’t know. Why don’t you? You could date anyone you wanted.”

  He scoffed, kicking at a rock in the dirt road where we stood, only a quarter-mile from my house.

  “What about Daniella Delgado? She was always looking at you and flirting with you in Chemistry last year. I know for a fact she has a crush on you because Lottie Harrison told me.”

  Sage scrunched his nose. “Nah, not my type.”

  Tilting my head, I squinted at him. “Oh yeah? Who exactly is your type? Emo girls and boys with coal-rimmed eyes and piercings?” I teased.

  Sage was my dark-haired, freckle-faced, black clothes-wearing musician boy. My momma had mentioned once that Sage just naturally carried a dark aura about him and that the whole town thought he was troubled; but in reality, if you knew him like I did, you knew Sage was a sweet, loving soul. Although he downplayed that to the rest of the world; the Sage I knew was thoughtful, considerate and loved those that loved him with all his heart.

  Those on that list included me, Cam and my momma. Sage’s own mother had passed away when he was three. And his father…well, I’d never once seen his father sober. He was the town drunk and was constantly in and out of trouble with the law. Sometimes, he’d be gone for long stretches of time on the road doing lord knows what.

  Sage had admitted to me once that he liked it when his father was gone because at least he was alone and unbothered.

  It hurt my own heart that this boy, who was growing into a tall, beautiful man and such a talented musician, was so easily cast aside and mistreated by his own father. I couldn’t imagine wanting to be alone rather than be in the company of my own family.

  Sage bumped my shoulder with his as we continued walking, squeezing my hand tightly against his palm. We always held hands whenever we were alone together. Like we weren’t whole if we weren’t connected to one another physically. As if Sage craved human touch so much that he needed to be connected to me in some way and needed that in order to survive.

  “Nah…I kind of prefer annoying, green-eyed, freckle-nosed, blonde bombshells that disguise themselves as bookworms.”

  I laughed at Sage’s obviously humorous description of me.

  “I’m not a bombshell,” I whined, looking down at my body in observation. “My boobs aren’t nearly as big as Hallie Cunningham’s.”

  Sage stopped, turned to face me, pulling my arms out to the side like I was flying. He cocked his head to the left and then to right, then held his chin as if in deep concentration as he leered at me.

  “Turn around,” he commanded, circling his finger toward me.

  I gave him a WTH scrunchy-face, but complied, hamming it up by wiggling my butt as I turned in a circle at his command.

  “Mmm-hmm. Like I said, bombshell. And might I add, your boobs are way better than hers. Her tits are wonky and lopsided.”

  My mouth dropped open and I squealed. “What? Have you…do you h
ave first-hand experience with them, Sage Hendricks?”

  Sage was never one to kiss and tell when it came to girls. Or boys, for that matter. He’d dated, but never more than once and it was usually a drunken hookup at a kegger or river party. It was at Justin Lancer’s party a month ago where I noticed Sage going out into the woods with Hallie.

  “Maybe…” he smirked. “I guess I’d have to see yours to do any real comparison.”

  I swatted at his chest with a loud gasp. “Sage Crenshaw Hendricks. How dare you!”

  “What? I’m just saying…”

  We both laughed as he hooked an arm around my shoulder as he pulled me into a skip down the remainder of the road.

  When we neared my house and slowed to a stop at the top of my porch, the porch light illuminated his face in just the right angle for me to notice a subtle bruising under his cheekbone. Oddly, I hadn’t noticed it before then, likely because we’d been in a dark theater and that side of his face had been obscured and away from me.

  I gasped and lifted my hand to his cheekbone, feathering my fingers over his soft, alabaster skin.

  “My God, Sage. What happened?”

  He swung my arm away and turned his head to face the opposite direction.

  “Nothing. Just the usual. Old man got a bee in his drunk bonnet and decided to take it out on me.”

  I closed my eyes, the tears of frustration and anger spilling over and down my face. I’d never known hate until I first heard of the physical violence Sage had been subjected to while under his father’s roof. I just couldn’t fathom how anyone could do that to his son. I was so lucky to have the parents that I did, who loved me and protected me from harm.

  “Oh Sage, I’m so sorry. Come inside so we can put some ice on it.”

  Opening the screen door, I tugged on his hand for him to follow me in. He hesitated only for a moment until I glared at him with a look that told him not to argue; I would win this war.

  “Really, it’s okay, London. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

  I was so angry I could spit nails. I ground my teeth together to keep from saying something that would probably send him away. I opened the freezer and pulled out a bag of frozen peas, wrapping it in a kitchen towel. Grabbing two Cokes out of the fridge next, I nodded toward the basement stairs.

  My parents were home and already in their bedroom watching a late-night show by the sounds of muffled laughter and light coming from their doorway. After getting Sage settled on the couch, I made a quick stop in the bathroom and then knocked on my parents’ door.

  “Momma? You awake?” I whispered, peering through the cracked doorway.

  The TV light cast shadows across the darkened room to where my dad was already asleep on his side facing away from me, snoring like a log. He worked hard on the ranch and was normally asleep by nine every night. My momma, however, would remain up watching TV, knitting or reading.

  “Hey baby, you’re home.”

  Padding barefoot across the thick carpet, I stopped at her bedside and leaned in to kiss the top of her head.

  “Yeah. Sage is with me downstairs. Is it okay if he stays the night?”

  Momma adjusted her posture and straightened to a sitting position against her pillows. She heaved a knowing sigh.

  “Honey, you know I love Sage, but I don’t think it’s a good idea that he sleeps over. It’s just not appropriate anymore.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Momma, you know it’s not like that between us.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “It might not be that way now, but I see the way he looks at you, sweetheart.”

  “Momma,” I groaned, not wanting a repeat of our birds and bee’s conversation from a few years earlier. Although to be fair, I think she was more embarrassed than I was, considering she couldn’t even get herself to say ‘blowjob’ and dismissed that part entirely.

  That’s where it’s always helpful to have two older brothers and also two male best friends who mentioned those things on the regular. I may not have ever done it, but I sure did know all about it and how much boys loved getting head.

  She patted my hand and wrapped me in a hug. “Honey, just know that your feelings may someday change. I just want you to be careful so that no one gets hurt. I’m okay with Sage staying around until midnight, but then he needs to go home.”

  I was about to argue and state my case but decided it was useless. If I told momma about Sage’s bruise and that he might not be safe going home tonight – or any night – she would do something drastic, like call the Sherriff to investigate. And I couldn’t have that on my conscience. Sage would never forgive me.

  We only had one more year of high school and I didn’t want something to happen that might take Sage away from me. That happened to Melinda Crumsberry last year. She was raised by her grandmother and when she died unexpectedly, Melinda had no other family to take her in and she was sent with Child Services to live in a foster home the next county over.

  Last I heard, Melinda had run away and was possibly living on the streets of Nashville.

  “Okay, momma. I’ll make sure he leaves at a decent hour. Thank you. G’night.”

  Bending down, I kissed her softly on the top of her head and left her room. When I returned downstairs, I found Sage already watching a funny movie.

  Plopping down next to him, I draped the blanket over my lap. It may have been ninety-five degrees outside, but the basement was always cold from the air conditioning.

  “Hey, blanket hog. Give me that,” Sage grunted, yanking some of the material off my lap and covering his bare, hairy legs.

  I’d marveled at how much hair both Sage and Cam had seemed to accumulate since just last summer. Before, Sage was lanky and scrawny, with knobby knees and spindly arms and legs. But over the past year, he’s matured, and his body had transformed right alongside Cam’s into something more masculine.

  He’d told me he started to shave, and when we were swimming, I noticed that he’d developed a trail of dark, wispy hair, bisecting his stomach from his navel down to his ill-fitting cut-off shorts.

  He’d also grown a crop of dark, curly hair underneath his armpits and a light dusting over his pecs. His entire physique had changed; although not as big as Cam, Sage worked out. I got the feeling Sage wanted to bulk up in order to protect himself.

  Sitting so close next to Sage, I could feel the bunched muscle of his thigh, tapping against me playfully. Always moving. The curly hairs on his legs teased the smooth, bare skin of my own leg. It felt…intimate. And sent zings of electric currents racing up and down my spine.

  The exact feeling I’d had with Cam several weeks ago in the river.

  I swallowed nervously.

  What was happening to me all of a sudden? We used to do this all the time as kids, but now it covered us like an invisible weight that made it feel awkward and wrong.

  Hunkering further under the blanket, I tried to pay attention to the movie, but I soon grew sleepy and my heavy-lids began to sag and droop.

  An hour later, I woke up entangled in the body heat radiating from Sage, who had his arm wrapped securely around my middle and his head resting on my lap.

  And that now all-too-familiar feeling between my thighs.

  Chapter 6

  Being careful not to jostle him awake, I removed the blanket from under my chin; the heat became too oppressive and much too hot.

  I stared down at the top of Sage’s head of thick, dark, messy hair. It was always floppy, but the mass of feathery softness called to me and I weaved my fingers through the silky strands. His moan stopped me short and I held my breath, hoping I didn’t wake him with my greedy hands. It wasn’t unusual for me to touch him – but this felt different.

  Maybe it was just me and my crazy teenage hormones, but it felt almost naughty.

  Illicit.

  Sensual.

  Sage moaned again and then spoke. “Mmm. That feels good. Don’t stop.”

  It seemed like I’d put him in a state of euphoria,
so I continued my ministrations. I reassured myself that it was okay for me to do this to him because he had no one else who provided him the affection that he deserved. No mother at home to hug him when he was hurt or feeling down. No father who patted him on the back to congratulate him when he’d done something to make him proud.

  No, my sweet Sage had no one else but me and Cam to make him feel loved. And that’s what I wanted to do.

  I continued my gentle combing, sometimes brushing over the tip of his ear, tugging on his lobe, curling my fingers at the nape of his neck. I’d doodle a little on his back and he’d nearly come unglued, purring like a cat. I grinned as I looked down upon the beautiful, burdened boy in my lap.

  We were both getting warm, so he shifted and sat up, removing his shirt so that I had better access. My hand trailed over the dips and valleys of his backside, over the smooth shoulders, and the carved cut of his bicep. I traced the inlay of his tapered waist, stopping to tickle at the rib where I knew he was ticklish. It felt good touching him in this way. Making him sigh with satisfaction and laugh with happiness.

  His life was so complicated. I just wanted to wrap him up in all the love that I had to give.

  When my finger ended up at the waistband of his shorts, I stalled for a moment, noticing the way his body tightened and flexed. His own breath became choppy and anxious as I played with the skin underneath. It was so soft and warm there, I couldn’t stop myself.

  In the end, I didn’t have to stop myself because he did it for me. Practically catapulting upright, he took the blanket with him as it fell to the floor in a heap.

  Sage sat at the edge of the couch, his back to me, as I watched his sharp exhalation and ragged breaths, his shoulders rising and falling in rapid succession. My hand instinctively ran down his smooth, muscular back, drifting over the cluster of freckles that created a crescent moon shape above his shoulder blades.

  Goose pimples broke out over his skin as I fluttered my fingertips over that expanse of flesh.

  His voice was low; a warning. “London.”

  Our knees bumped as he shifted around to face me, but didn’t look me in the eye, his lips pressed into a firm frown.

 

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