I looked over at the voice. It was Decker. I hadn’t given him much consideration before, mainly because we’d never talked. He’d been in a couple of my classes—hard to avoid in a town small enough that only one high school is needed to accommodate all the students—but that didn’t mean I’d had reason to ever talk to him. I was pretty sure he’d been on the JV football team last fall, and I knew he was in my world history class and had been in my geography class the year before, but I doubted we’d ever said two words to each other. Part of that was me. I felt comfortable around a lot of kids, but the jocks and cheerleaders didn’t seem like my type. I couldn’t explain it. I had nothing against them—in fact, since settling in, I’d grown friendly with a couple of cheerleaders in my classes—but they didn’t feel like my people.
No one did, really, but that didn’t stop me from being friendly and getting along.
Now, though…maybe now that people understood my passion, maybe we’d have more to discuss. At least, that was how it was beginning to seem with Decker. At any rate, I’d piqued his curiosity.
And he’d piqued mine. I hadn’t been attracted much to his type, but I had to admit that his newfound attention was making me reconsider. My problem was my devotion to music—metal music. The men in metal were hairy beasts—even if their hair wasn’t long (which it often was), they had facial hair that they usually gave plenty of attention to (save, of course, guys in bands like Lamb of God or guitar gods like Zakk Wylde, where it seemed to me that they didn’t care a bit about looks—they were all about the music). There was more than that, though—there were the tattoos. Oh, my, the tattoos. None of the boys in high school were old enough to have tattoos yet, and I didn’t hold that against them, but I found body ink quite attractive, and it was a penchant that only grew as I did.
So here was Decker, a boy I knew girls drooled over. He’d had one or two girlfriends that I’d been aware of, cheerleader types, so I knew that I found his attention flattering because I was definitely not that type—not by a long shot. I wore makeup but didn’t obsess over my looks. I didn’t wear dresses either, let alone skirts. My nails were not manicured—they were trimmed, yes, but there was no polish and there was definitely no bling. My nails were functional and trimmed as short as they could get. I couldn’t play my guitar with cutesy nails, and it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.
Decker wasn’t bad-looking—just not my type. I didn’t know that I had a type, actually, but I knew if I did, he wasn’t it. Still, I could see why dozens of girls flocked around him. He was more filled out in upper-body muscle than a lot of other boys his age, and he wore his dark brown hair short. He had dark blue eyes and I wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d seen him modeling jeans in one of my friends’ teen fashion magazines. He seemed nice enough too, even though before tonight he and I hadn’t spoken two words to one another.
In the darkness of night with the shadows of the fire that had managed to make it back as far as we were, he was even good looking. That wasn’t what I was noticing, though. What was taking my breath away was the confidence oozing off him—something I’d never encountered before…not from a boy his age and definitely not toward me.
It was making me begin to feel an insane attraction for him.
“Well, here I am.” I smiled and shrugged my shoulders. He indicated that we could join the group, and I walked alongside him. I felt a shiver charge up my spine when he placed his hand on my back to lead the way.
“Want a beer?”
I shrugged again. I’d never had a reason in my whole damn life to feel unsure of myself, but something about this guy was doing it to me. I wasn’t sure why. Sure, I’d found guys attractive and knew I was ready for a boyfriend, but I wasn’t desperate for one. I knew it would happen soon enough, even though my friends seemed obsessed about it. This guy, though…something about how confident he acted made me feel a little shaky and nervous. And between the edgy feeling and the fact that I wanted to put my parents out of my head, I agreed to have a can of beer.
He changed direction and headed toward a pickup just a few feet away. There was an ice chest in the bed of the truck, and he lifted the lid. He pulled out two cans and tilted them to let the water drip off the lids. In spite of the darkness surrounding us, the light from the fire and the moon helped me see what he was doing, especially as my eyes adjusted. He set one down and popped the tab, handing it to me before picking up the other and repeating the process.
I’d only ever had a sip of a drink now and again when my parents would drink. I’d had a taste of beer once when I was a kid and an inch or two of wine at a meal now and again, and I’d failed to see the appeal. But I wasn’t stupid. I knew people loved alcohol for a very good reason, and I’d seen enough people act foolish under the influence to know that, perhaps, it could help me feel a little numb.
So I took a sip, steeling myself inside, because I knew I wouldn’t like the taste any better now than I had before. Decker opened his can, took a big sip, and then draped his arm over my shoulders to lead me over to the fire.
A guy like Decker…yeah, he should have been pouncing on all the little cheerleader types around the fire—the girls with manicured nails, curled hair, and cute shoes. Instead, his arm was around me. Me. I was the girl with long, straight brown hair, brown eyes, and just a little makeup. I had black nail polish and, as I said before, those nails were short so I could shred on guitar. No cute shoes, just black army boots. No adorable skirts or lacy blouses—blue jeans with a rip over the right knee and a rock-and-roll t-shirt.
The group was already involved in a loud conversation, chatting and laughing and carrying on, enjoying each other’s company and having a good time. There were logs and rocks and a few lawn chairs around the fire, and Decker sat on one of the big rocks, patting a small space next to it where I could rest my butt. As I squatted to sit, I noticed that some of the girls were sitting on boys’ laps and one couple wasn’t just getting cozy; they were getting downright hot and heavy, and I wondered why they were still here. There were a few kids without a partner, but I could feel that Decker had already laid claim to me.
The guy that I knew was his best friend, a kid named Randy, the guy who had been the JV quarterback last fall, gave me a chin nod before saying, “Your act tonight was bad ass, Summers.”
I felt some surge of pride flow through my body. I’d always wanted to make my parents proud, but I’d had no idea how good it would feel to have other people like what I’d done. “Thanks,” I said, smiling and forcing another sip of beer down. My cheeks were warm and I wanted to be cool and collected. This was no big deal, right?
The girl beside him, a girl I knew was an actual cheerleader, said, “Kylie, right?”
Decker’s arm draped over my shoulders again as he pulled me close. “It’s Kyle.” Then he looked at me. “That’s not short for Kylie, is it?”
I smiled again. “Nah. My mom and dad were just trying to be clever, I guess.” I was feeling a little out of place, something that didn’t usually happen to me, but a sensation I was feeling more and more the older I got. It made it a little easier to take another swig of the beer in my hand.
The conversation moved on to talk about the entire talent show. Well, my fifteen minutes of fame didn’t last the full quarter hour…but I was okay with that. Just seeing the looks on my classmates’ faces regarding what I’d done that night was enough.
Back then? Well, I had dreams, sure, but they weren’t clearly defined. They were vague. Yeah, I planned to do something with music, and I figured I’d have a band. That much was certain, because playing was something I had to do. Hell, I already knew I’d be happy just playing my guitar in my bedroom every night.
But now I’d had a taste of what an audience felt like…and that changed everything.
While the kids talked—and the conversation quickly shifted to other topics—I pictured my future in my mind: I’d go to college just like mom and dad wanted (even though I wasn’t too happy with either
of them right now) and then maybe I’d teach music like mom did and have a band so I could play live once a month or so. I didn’t know…but I was starting to visualize the possibilities.
I leaned my head on Decker’s shoulder. I liked the way his arm felt around me. Just like my future, I wasn’t feeling any pressure, but I was going to enjoy the hell out of the moment. I glanced around the circle—the couples were getting cozier but a couple of the girls were whispering and giggling, and I tried not to pay attention. I had a feeling they were laughing at me, but I wasn’t going to let it get me down.
I did, however, down my beer.
Then I felt Decker’s hot breath against my ear, through my hair, and he said, “Let’s take a walk.”
I got the feeling he wanted more than to just walk. Either way, I was going to be glad I was getting away from a circle of people that I had no idea I’d be uncomfortable around—until I was. As we started walking away from the group—away from the fire—the night grew a bit cooler, a little quieter, but his arm around me felt warm. As I heard the water lapping on the rocks by the shore, I began to feel at peace. I could even hear a song forming in my head, the first time in my life I felt inspired to write music, but now wasn’t the time. My guitar was at home.
Still, I could hear it.
Decker pulled my thoughts away from the song. “Wanna sit here?”
“Sure.”
I couldn’t see much in the muted moonlight, but it was reflecting off the water. I could see the fire around the bend, the flames flickering off the surface of the lake as well. I could barely hear the group now, their voices subdued by the water licking the shore.
There was a big piece of driftwood that I was able to focus on, and Decker extended a hand, offering in a gentlemanly way to have me sit first. I wasn’t used to being treated like a lady, but I was happy to try it on for size. I sat on the wood and nearly fell the few inches to the ground as it wobbled. I laughed and then he joined me. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
He sat beside me and wasted no time. His face got close to mine, close enough that I could see his irises even in the darkness. I searched his eyes and realized he was going to kiss me. I had never had a boy’s lips on mine before, and just the thought made me salivate in anticipation…but what I expected could not have prepared me for all the sensations that his touch would send shooting through my body.
His lips brushed mine first—soft and tender—and I had no idea at the time how lucky I was that this boy had a little bit of experience. He was about to show me a hell of a time. Every muscle on my body tightened up…and then they relaxed and some weird, buzzy feeling flowed through my veins. What a rush. That was when I noticed his tongue was in my mouth moving around, and my nipples grew hard. I needed to take a deep gulp of air but he was consuming me, and I felt his hands move to the small of my back. An almost primal instinct gripped me, and I needed to grab onto something, but I could barely think, so I moved my hands to his chest. I could feel my fingers trembling against the solid surface of muscle underneath the cotton fabric of his shirt as he finished the first kiss. My eyes were still closed as I sucked in a tiny breath of air before his mouth came down on mine again, and that was when I realized my panties were wet.
That should have been shocking, but it felt natural as hell.
Weird, but natural.
I took in as much breath as I could through my nostrils as I sat up a little straighter and leaned more into him. His tongue continued to encourage mine to play as I moved my hands toward his neck. I was relishing the feel of his body underneath my hands, and it was then that I realized all the fun I’d been missing over the last few years.
What the hell had taken so long?
Suddenly, nothing else mattered to me anymore, nothing more than this boy who was making my body feel like it had discovered what it was made for. Gone were my parents, my glee over my short-lived high school fame, my dreams, and even my discomfort about hanging with a crowd I didn’t know. All that meant anything in this moment was the sparks flying through my body.
And, man, were they flying.
I tried to move a few inches on that damned log to press up as close to him as I could and I felt him adjust as well, but that piece of wood wasn’t having any of it. It rolled just enough to make me tumble the few inches to the ground, breaking off the kiss. I started laughing, in spite of the fact that I wanted nothing more than to reconnect my lips to his. I heard him chuckle too before he said, “Should’ve known that wasn’t the smartest idea.” It was mere seconds before he brought his lips back down on mine again, only this time, we weren’t impeded by the log. He rested his hand against the back of my head before gently easing me back onto the ground.
Oh, wow. That changed everything. I felt a buzzing through my body that couldn’t be denied, a visceral ache charging through every nerve, every vein urging me to move forward—move forward to do something I knew in the logical part of my brain I wasn’t ready for yet. I knew that and yet…
But his hand touching the bare skin of my stomach, sliding up toward my bra, brought me back to reality. I knew exactly where this was heading, and while the part of me driven purely by instinct wanted it too—wanted it badly—I knew now was not the time. I had no issues with losing my virginity nor losing it to Decker—it held no special value for me—but here, on the lakeshore close to midnight, after one of the best (then the worst) days of my life was not the time.
Still, I felt my breathing quicken and my body respond to the brush of his hand, felt my breast aching for his touch. How I managed to bring my hand to his to hold it and disconnect my mouth from his to get a word out was nothing short of a miracle. The words were but a whisper. “Not now.”
It was then that I felt that rock hard rod against my leg and I nearly gasped and changed my mind. He seemed in half a dream state when he responded, moving his lips to my ear. “You sure?”
That didn’t help, that continual stimulation here, there, and everywhere—his lips on my neck, his dick grinding into my thigh, his hand still on my belly, just inches away from my breast. But I sucked in a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah.”
“When?”
I swallowed. God, what a question. I didn’t have any kind of answer for it. And I don’t remember how I replied…I only knew that when we began walking back to the group, Decker and I had agreed upon having some sort of relationship, and I was warm with the anticipation of what the next day might bring.
Chapter Three
My friends weren’t nearly as enthusiastic about Decker as I was. In fact, when I was relating the last evening’s events to them, they assured me that he would now treat me much like a hot potato and want nothing to do with me. When I didn’t see him in the halls that morning, I started thinking they might be right. Maybe he was avoiding me, hoping to let me down that way.
I was cool with it. No problem. He’d definitely awakened something inside me, something huge, something that I would no longer be able to deny, but I wouldn’t be heartbroken if he’d decided one make-out session with me was it.
I’d just need to find another boy. And fast.
So I and my two friends hung out in the commons area at lunch like we always did, and I was drinking a Diet Coke and eating a Twix for lunch. I had never had an opportunity to eat shit instead of a meal until I went to high school because my parents could no longer control what I did, and I’d been making up for lost time, learning how to eat all the shit my classmates had begun downing years earlier.
It was then that Mr. Thompson, AKA Decker, sauntered up to me from behind. I was standing, talking to the two girls, when two hands covered my eyes. I sensed that it might be him but didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, so I just smiled and cocked my head. “Yeah?”
Then I felt his lips next to my ear, his warm breath caressing my skin through the veil of my hair. “Guess who?”
I felt my muscles grow taut once more like they had the night before, and my body once again wa
nted him to touch me, taste me all over.
Yeah…my parents had still been split up that morning. I was in denial, and Decker was helping with that immensely. I’d gotten up late, showered quickly, and skipped breakfast, blowing mom a kiss on the way out the door. Just a week earlier, and I might have told her about Decker. Now that she had been spurned by my dad? No way in hell. I wasn’t going to tell her shit.
Don’t get me wrong—I felt bad for her. Felt bad for them. But it hurt too much to deal with it.
Decker? He was a welcome distraction.
I grinned, touching his hands with my fingertips but not prying them off my eyes. “Hmm. I wonder if you’re that creepy stalker guy who’s been following me around for the last couple of weeks.”
His hands dropped from my eyes and he moved in front of me so he could ask, “Some creepy guy’s been stalking you?”
I burst out laughing. “No. I’m just messing with you.” I couldn’t read the look in his eyes—relief? Confusion? Irritation? And, before my confession, I didn’t know what his reaction was either. Would he have been my proverbial knight in shining armor, ready to defend me from creepy pervs throughout the school, or would he have been a chickenshit who would run for the hills with his tail tucked between his legs?
I’d never know, because I’d played my cards way too soon.
That was my inexperience at work. I hadn’t yet mastered flirting or reading signals or anything having to do with the fine art of courting. Truth is I probably still don’t have those skills down well, because I haven’t needed to work on them much.
He nodded, and I knew then that he’d taken my joke okay, but he was keeping his distance now. I still had my friends with me, though, and I didn’t want to be rude, so I said, “Cheri, Michelle, this is Decker.”
Michelle didn’t do a good job stifling her smirk. “We know who he is.” At first, I thought it was because he was a jock, on the football team, and fairly popular, but then my friend said, “You forget, Kyle. We all grew up with each other here. We all know each other…for the most part.”
Dirty Boys: Bad Boy Rock Star Romance Box Set Page 73