On the Run (Vagabonds #1)

by Jade C. Jamison

  When I got home, mom told me that we were going to meet my dad at the barbecue place on the edge of town. I was hoping we’d ride there in silence, and turned the radio up a little, in fact, but mom turned it back down and said, “Kyle, honestly. You can tell me, honey. Are you and Decker getting serious?”

  “Come on, mom. No.”

  “You’re having sex. I know what that does to you. When you have sex, you become emotionally entwined with the boy you’re with.”

  I huffed. “As if.”

  “I’ve seen the way you look at that boy.”

  Um…yeah…like I wanted to fuck him, not marry him. “Come on, mom. Do we have to talk about this?”

  She sighed. “I guess not.”

  I looked out the passenger window on my side at the businesses we were driving past, hoping mom wouldn’t say another word. I focused on what she’d said, the part about becoming emotionally entwined. I wasn’t sure what she’d meant by that, but it sure as shit sounded like love. No, I didn’t love Decker; I didn’t see myself ever loving Decker…but he was a fun boy, very hot, and I wanted to enjoy him while he was around.

  Mom, though…she seemed to think he was my first love, maybe my only love—and then I realized that that was what had happened with her and dad. They’d been high school sweethearts. I didn’t know much more about their relationship, but I did know that they’d married young. They’d rarely talked about their lives pre-me, and I had the feeling something had happened to swear them off family and friends, and that was why they’d hit the road and never looked back. I didn’t know any details, but I thought it might have something to do with dad’s parents passing and his brother taking over the estate—but every time I’d asked questions as a kid, they’d brushed them away. All I knew was that dad must have gotten his fair share, because we’d lived on the road for a very long time.

  We arrived at the restaurant, and we both got out of the car without saying another word. Dad was waiting for us at the front, and he was all smiles. He kissed me on the forehead and then hugged me, but what happened next was weird. He pulled my mom close and kissed her passionately—and she let him!

  Had I missed something?

  I stifled the shocked look my face wanted to show and also kept the grimace from peeking out. Instead, I just followed them inside, in a bit of a daze, until we were led to a table and I sat down in the booth, across from my parents who were acting like nothing bad had ever happened between them.

  What. The. Fuck?

  “So, Kyle, tell us your news.” My dad was his typical calm but positive self. It was all freaking me out.

  I took a deep breath. Okay, so if they wanted to pretend nothing was unusual, I could try that too. “I am now the lead guitarist of an all-girl rock band.”

  My mom’s attention actually focused on me for half a moment. I can’t believe I had actually been growing a little jealous of the attention my dad was getting from her—because the two of them reconnecting was all I’d wanted for the past couple of months. But I had her eyes on me now. “When did this happen?”

  “Earlier today.”

  Dad asked, “Just like that?”

  I grinned. “Just like that. All I had to do was play for them.”

  “So are you writing music? Have any gigs scheduled?”

  “We just got started, dad.”

  “What’s the name of your band?”

  Oh. Had Peter even said? I saw mom and dad both start to grin as the blank look on my face intensified. “I don’t know. They didn’t say.”

  But my dad, now back to his old self—that asshole I’d been talking to off and on over the past few months seemingly nonexistent—teased me. “You sure you tried out? Not your imagination or anything?”

  “Very funny.” The waitress brought our menus and told us the specials, interrupting me, but it didn’t seem like she noticed. After she left, I said, “Let me tell you what I do know.” So I told them about what kind of music it seemed like we were going to be playing, in spite of the fact that the girl I knew as Elizabeth (back then, anyway) seemed to have a tendency to write pop and soft rock music, and I also told them about the girl I’d clicked with—a young lady named Vicki who even seemed to look a little like me.

  By the time I was done firing off my news, the waitress set our food in front of us—mom and dad both had steak and potatoes, and I had a giant cheeseburger on my plate. I suspected my appetite would take care of that.

  I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. Probably the boyfriend. He could wait. “So tell me what the hell’s up with you guys?”

  Dad raised an eyebrow. “Oh, we’re cursing now?”

  Damn, sometimes my dad could be intimidating…but I wasn’t going to let him affect me. He’d lost his power over me the day he’d walked out the front door. Didn’t matter that he was back now. “Yeah, we are.” I took a sip of my soda but kept my eyes on my dad. “Well?”

  Mom answered, though, and I got the feeling dad wanted her to. “We love each other, Kyle. For better or worse.”

  That hit a nerve. My voice was low but my tone said it all. “But he cheated on you, mom.” I looked at dad and stopped myself from pointing. “You left.” Oh, there it was. Dad’s neck was turning red. I’d hit that nerve again.

  “What happens between your mom and me is our business, not yours.” I’m afraid that statement didn’t help the scowl on my face and, after a few seconds, dad’s expression softened a bit. “As for leaving, I’m sorry. I know that affected you too, Kyle, and we didn’t give you a lot of information. Just…your mom and I love each other and we needed—we need—a break.” He cleared his throat. “Forever’s a long time.”

  Yeah, and who knew how long their marriage had been in dick years?

  I looked at my mom, a silent plea in my eyes. “Mom, are you okay with this?”

  “Okay with it? Honey, I love your dad. Always have. He is the love of my life.”

  Ahh…I saw it then. Dad was the fucking car salesman and mom was the customer who was unwilling to walk away. Sucker.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I’D SOMEHOW MANAGED to avoid the long conversation mom tried to have with me about Decker—how I was able to steer her away from revealing my sexcapades with the boy to my dad I’ll never know…because she tried to go there.

  Once home, though, I did call my boyfriend, because he had tried reaching me while we were out. I was excited, because I wanted to tell someone halfway rational about my first band. Mom and dad weren’t any fun to hang with anymore because of all their own damn drama, but Decker had always been easy. Besides, I was horny.

  Right now, mom and dad were off doing something…somewhere. I didn’t want to know what, but I thought maybe I could get away with having Decker over for a while. As long as my dad didn’t come back to the house with mom, I’d be all right.

  I wanted to tell Decker my news, but I thought maybe that would make for good pillow talk later. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt and looked good enough to eat. No way could I wait. Fuck first; talk later.

  But, as we were peeling off our clothes, I felt a bit inspired. “Hey, I really want to try something.”

  “What’s that?” His eyes had that dreamy can’t-wait-to-fuck you look. I loved when he looked like that.

  “Well…I’ve been doing a little reading. Did you know a lot of women are more sensitive in their clitoris area than in their vagina?”

  He paused and gave me half a smile. “Okay.” He was waiting for me to continue, but then got the clue that I wasn’t going to yet. “That’s why you were having me try different angles, right?”

  I didn’t know that I wanted to tell him I’d tried orgasm without him—I wanted him to feel proud if he could make me come on his own. At the same time, I didn’t want him to blow me off. I decided to try subtle first. “Yeah.”

  “Was that any good?”

  “Yeah, but I want to try something else.” I took a deep breath. So far, Decker had been pretty open minded abo
ut everything else I’d wanted to try; of course, I’d been happy to experiment with things he’d wanted to play around with too. “I really want you to go down on me.” I saw the hesitation in his expression, and I expected that he was going to argue with me, but I already had a counter. “Hey. How many times have I given you a blowjob?” He paused to think about it, so I decided to cite more examples of how open minded I had been to his sexual requests. “And when you screwed on the washing machine and the swings at the—”

  “Okay,” he said, stopping me in my tracks. “When?”

  I couldn’t help the smile that slowly spread across my face. “Now would be awesome.”

  He looked a little nervous but nodded. It was less than ten minutes before I was on my back in my bed, both of us naked, my legs bent at the knees and spread, his head right there. I tried to relax but I was tense, wondering what his tongue would feel like but excited to find out.

  I could feel his breath against my leg when he finally said, “So where?”

  Seriously? But, of course, he was a boy. He didn’t have my parts, was only as familiar with my equipment as I would require him to be. So his lessons started now. I lifted my upper body of the bed and held it up resting on my elbows and I said, “I’m pretty sure if you just lick me down the middle, you’ll do fine.”

  I could feel his fingers on me and that alone was enough to pull my attention from his cute face. I bit my lower lip as he said, “Between your lips?”

  I breathed, “Yeah.”

  He nodded, a trooper, and grinned. He was going to give it an honest effort, and I was grateful for that. He bent his head as I lay mine back down on the pillow. I let out a slow breath as I felt his warm tongue graze me. I couldn’t help but say, “Yeah,” letting him know he was getting the right spot. Relaxing was impossible because it felt amazing, and each stroke got me closer to what I now knew was coming.

  For never having done it before, he was pretty damn good at it. I still wasn’t as familiar with my body’s cues as I grew to be later on, so I wasn’t sure how close I was to orgasm. I only knew that each delicious stroke got me closer. As I inched nearer to the top, I had a thought, that I should have been playing some music. Music was my life and I had an accompanying soundtrack, so why hadn’t I thought to play music (like I often did when we were having sex)? I knew the beats, the rhythm, the sounds would add to the overall experience, and it was a mistake I’d try not to make again. His next tongue stroke removed all thought from my head because it caused my thighs to constrict and my pussy grew tight. I could feel the blood rushing in my veins as my heart started thudding in my chest. I gasped as my mind’s eye focused on that area, that hot little engorged nub that was responding so well to Decker’s movements. I could feel a sense of imminence throughout my body, the knowledge that it was going to happen, and my thighs began to shudder when, at last, the world crashed around me.

  I hadn’t expected it but suppose I should have known that my thighs would squeeze and want to slam shut over poor Decker’s head. I fought against it, but the boy was turning out to be quite resourceful and intuitive. His hands were on my thighs, gently forcing them to stay open, and he continued his work. Somehow he knew he couldn’t stop just because I had hit the top.

  I barely registered that I was moaning aloud, saying things like, “Oh, my God, Decker. Don’t stop.” Maybe that was why he was continuing his gentle pressure. But it got to be too much and then I was begging him to stop.

  He lifted his head. “Doesn’t it feel good?”

  “Holy shit. Too good. I can’t take it anymore.”

  His eyes grew wide. “I wasn’t hurting you, was I?”

  I started laughing then. “No. It was amazing.” He looked like a lost lamb. “Now come fuck me, lover.”

  If I hadn’t been so horny, I would have laughed at how corny I sounded, but the look in his eyes told me he appreciated the sentiment. He jumped off the bed and fetched a condom out of his jeans and, in seconds, he was kissing me hard. “Can we try it standing up?”

  I nodded, eager to please him as much as he’d pleased me. So we stood and he kissed me but then asked if I’d turn around. After much maneuvering, we realized it would be better if I leaned over so my ass stuck out, so I did, and then he was inside me.

  I discovered something then, and that was that my body was primed for another orgasm. Simply hitting the top the first time meant that I was still at some weird level, ready to go again, and I enjoyed myself as more waves of pleasure engulfed me. I heard Decker say, “That’s fucking hot,” before ramming me one last time and then losing his shit altogether.

  So my orgasm got Decker off. Hmm.

  I was nothing if not a good student.

  * * *

  An hour later, my mom still wasn’t home, but it was dark outside, and I knew Decker would need to head home soon, so I woke him. I wanted to tell him my news before he left, so if he was in a hurry, I could talk while he dressed, but I hoped we could be more leisurely about the whole matter.

  “Hey, sleepyhead. It’s getting late.”

  He stirred and turned his head. “Guess I should head home.” He said it more like a question.

  “Yeah. I have some cool news I want to tell you first.”

  “Yeah?”

  I placed my hands on his chest and rested my chin on my wrist, gazing into his eyes. “I’m in a band now.”

  “A rock band? Live stuff?”

  “Yeah.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “Earlier today.”

  “How?”

  I told him the story about how Peter called me—how he’d been calling me, and Decker seemed to remember a couple of odd phone calls I’d received with him around—and then how I’d finally given in and answered my cell, only to be blown away. But then the auditions? I’d found my people. I’d clicked with someone I knew was going to be a great friend.

  He was intrigued, but I couldn’t read his emotions. He asked, “So who all’s in the band?”

  “No one you know. At least, I don’t think so. The two I met today live in the Springs—Elizabeth Mayerson and Vicki Graham.” He shook his head, indicating that he didn’t know them, just as I’d suspected. “We still need a bassist, but I’m guessing Peter already has someone in mind. He’s gonna call us later in the week when he wants us to get together.”

  Decker seemed distracted when he said, “Cool.” He sat up then, and I gave him some room. I knew he had to get home.

  And I continued to believe everything was okay, because it had to be…and because I had a lot more on my mind than my teenage romance.

  Chapter Seventeen

  PETER CALLED ME two days later. “We’ve got our bassist.” He paused…for dramatic effect, I’m sure. “When can you come back to Liz’s house for another rehearsal?”

  “What about tomorrow?” I asked.

  “Great. I might also have a surprise by then.”

  I felt giddy with anticipation but didn’t say a word. I still had that mentality of not letting the salesman know I wanted the damn car—even though it felt like I’d already signed the papers and was driving it off the lot.

  So, the next afternoon, I showed up at Liz’s house. She was, once again, quiet and introspective but okay. She seemed mellower to me this time. Peter wasn’t there yet, wrangling our “surprise” together, she said, and then we went to her garage to play.

  Only I’d never seen a garage like this one before. The walls were finished and white and the concrete floor was spotless—no oil stains, no dirt. I didn’t see any tools, no automobile fluids, nothing indicating that this space was used for anything but storage. There was even a refrigerator, but not much in the way of car equipment. There was room for three vehicles in the garage but only one was inside. The drum kit sat near a window at the back and there were various small carpeted platforms for people to stand on. A microphone in a stand completed the set up.

  It wasn’t even hot in there like a normal garage would b
e.

  “Why aren’t we in that room like the other day?” I asked.

  She took a deep breath but I sure as hell couldn’t register any emotion coming from her. She was locked up as tight as a storm cellar during a tornado warning. “Parents.”

  Vicki was sitting at the drum kit, ready to play, and the new girl stood off to the side tuning her bass. She was tall with what looked like light brown hair that had a hint of red in it. When she turned around and I could see her face, I saw why her hair had the red tinge—but then I also noticed there was more red than I’d noticed at first. The girl was a ginger, very pretty, but I could see the smattering of freckles under her makeup, and there was no disguising them on her arms. Her looks didn’t matter, though. She could have been butt ugly as far as I was concerned. All I cared about was how she could play, and, so far, Peter had picked some winners. I would be surprised if she wasn’t good.

  Liz said, “Ladies, I’d like for you to start learning some of the songs I’ve written. The sooner you learn them, the sooner we can record and play live.” I agreed with that…but she probably wasn’t going to like the way I wanted to play them.

  Vicki said, “Lady? I look like a lady to you? You gonna fetch me some tea and crumpets momentarily?”

  Oh. I was already getting to know Vicki pretty well, and that little statement right there told me she was uncomfortable as hell mixing with the well-to-do…not that it was any picnic for me. But Liz didn’t seem to put on airs. Yeah, I could tell she’d come from a rich family, but I got the feeling she’d never quite fit in with them, had never lived up to her parents’ expectations.

  I respected the hell out of the fact that the girl wanted to follow her dream anyway.

  At the time, I was thinking maybe we should call ourselves “The Rebels.” I thought I’d suggest it to Peter when he finally decided to show up. When the red-haired girl looked up from her bass, I gave her a chin nod, because I myself was also fiddling with my own equipment. “Kyle Summers,” I said, smiling.