Loose

by Coo Sweet

  Loose

  by Coo Sweet

  Loose

  Copyright 2012 by Coo Sweet

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Published by:

  Noble Tree LLC

  9484 S. Eastern Ave, Ste 262

  Las Vegas, NV 89123

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone alive or dead is purely coincidental and unintentional.

  Table Of Contents

  Review Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  About the Author

  Review Page

  We hope you will take the time to review this book at amazon.com! Thanks!

  Dedication

  To my family--thanks for always believing.

  Chapter 1

  Sage Gentry sat up in bed. The glow from the full moon shining through his window cast a spotlight on his face, and what a face it was. Seventeen-year-old Sage had hazel doe-eyes with lashes so long it should be criminal. His skin was the color of honey and smooth as glass. With his sleek nose and soft, full lips it just didn’t seem fair that one person could be so frigging facially gifted.

  His face was framed with curly, shoulder length hair--envied by girls who say so out loud, and boys who just think it. Finally, throw in a lean chiseled body, and you’ve got Sage. Who also had brains and personality to compliment all that flesh and bone bling.

  Naturally girls flit to Sage like hummingbirds to a blossom. They flicker their eyelashes at him like tiny wings. They hover and rotate their bodies just so, each one jockeying for the best position to get a sip of his sweet nectar. Sage indulges them for a short time, then he folds in on himself as gently as flower petals closing. The girls are effectively shut off, and they zip away as quickly as hummingbirds do.

  On this night, Sage was roused from a deep slumber.

  Sage turned his head toward a sound at his window, but, otherwise, made no move to investigate what was out there. For a quick second a pissed-off look clouded his face, but he shook it off and settled back in the bed intent on ignoring the interruption.

  The tapping escalated into banging. Worried the sound might reach his parent’s room Sage swore softly and crawled out of bed to respond to the intrusion at the window. He raised the blinds and squinted at the dark figure on the other side of the glass.

  The cause of the commotion was his best friend, Peyton Naylor, also seventeen and fine as hell. Peyton, with his smooth brown skin and sexy smile, is the kind of guy whose looks and swagger makes girls fall for him way too soon, and they never think to put on the brakes.

  Whether he woos them with his chocolate brown eyes, or a string of sweet words, there’s an unspoken understanding between Peyton and the parties involved. It’s probably going to hurt like a bitch when his attention gets diverted by fresh treats. Apparently he’s worth all that pain, because the ladies don’t stop coming.

  Even Peyton’s powerless when it comes to his gift for charming the panties off the opposite sex. He can never say no to a hook-up.

  "What're you doing here this time of night?" Sage grumbled, easing the window open. Peyton lifted the screen from the window. He climbed into the room with well-practiced precision.

  "Chill, man. I need to pee. Real bad," said Peyton.

  "You should've thought about that before you left your girl's house."

  "Didn’t have time. Had to jet. Her mom got off early and almost caught our asses!"

  "I wish she had busted you. Creeping with her baby girl like a big old perv. How old is she anyway? Twelve…thirteen?" asked Sage.

  Peyton waved off the unflattering accusation. “Fool, please. Tia’s a freshman. And she’s fourteen. That’s plenty ripe for me. You know I have to give the ladies what they want.” He swiped two fingers across the peach fuzz above his lips and stroked his chin as he breezed past Sage.

  An attitude of familiarity, deep affection, and plain old "whatever man", hung in the air behind him. Peyton loped off into the adjoining bathroom while Sage put the screen back in the window and closed it.

  Peyton peed with the door flung wide open. Sage screwed his face up at the sound of urine-held-too-long pelting the insides of the toilet bowl. The still of the night, coupled with the tight space, amplified the noise to a tic-inducing level.

  Disgusted at Peyton’s shameless display of what should have been a private bodily function, Sage wagged his head. He padded back to bed, where he settled in like the sudden intrusion was just a bad dream.

  When he finished peeing, Peyton sighed with glorious relief. He washed and dried his hands, strolled out of the bathroom, and over to the bed. With a wicked grin that was barely visible in the semi-dark room, Peyton pounced on the mattress like it was a trampoline.

  The rocking motion that followed his little stunt almost catapulted Sage off the bed. He glared at Peyton and whapped him with a pillow. Peyton snickered, rolled onto his stomach, and rested his chin on his forearms.

  "That Tia is nuts, man," he said.

  Sage offered nothing more than a blank stare. Of course, the lukewarm response obliged Peyton to elaborate.

  "She shares a room with her little sis, right? So we needed some place more private to get busy. Tia with her crazy ass dragged me to the kitchen. She sat me in a chair, climbed onboard--and it was on! The girl’s got skills like you wouldn’t believe."

  Sage intended to play like he couldn’t care less, but when his eyebrows shot up and his mouth dropped open, he was outed.

  Peyton sure as hell noticed. He reeled his buddy right on in.

  "Now here's the kicker. Tia’s sister came dragging into the kitchen like Baby Frankenstein or something. You could tell she was still half-asleep, but I guess she needed a glass of water. Whatever the deal was, she smooth busted us!”

  Peyton made a fist and laughed into it. His face lit up as he recalled the not-so-intimate encounter.

  “Man, that little girl stood there rubbing her eyes like they were full of dirt. Or maybe she thought she was dreaming…tried to wake herself up. But she never said a word. Just turned around and went back to her room."

  Sage’s eyes got bigger with each nugget of information that dropped from Peyton’s mouth. Any pretense of not caring about his friend’s late night frolicking had been lost in the telling.

  "Uh-uh…you lying, Pey! What'd ya’ll do?"

  "Tee got her some water and took it to their room. She tucked her in. Told her it was no biggie…we were just playing around. Her sister fell for it. Dozed right off. Tee came back to the kitchen and--“ Peyton stretched, crossed his hands behind his head and pumped his pelvis furiously. Like he was still straddling that chair at Tia’s house.

  "Man, cut that shit out,” Sage complained, swatting Peyton in the head with a pillow.

>   Peyton threw his hands up in defense. The satisfied look on his face made it pretty obvious how much he enjoyed seeing his best friend squirm.

  After a few minutes of play fighting and breathless laughter, both boys settled on their backs. They got quiet, reflecting on some unspoken inner dialogue. Sage broke the silence first.

  "Both of ya’ll are crazy. You know that, right? What if Tia’s mother had come home while you were still going at it?"

  "Man, I’m not getting caught by nobody’s mama. You forget you’re talking to the master of this game? Crazy would have been not hitting it when I had the chance. That’s what’s important. I don’t even worry about the other stuff.”

  "Whatever, fool. I’m just saying…your luck’s gonna run out one of these days. And you say you don’t worry about the other stuff? I hope that doesn’t include protection."

  "Please shut up, Dr. Phil. Yeah, I use protection, man. And if my luck does run out…say I get busted by some girl’s mother…I’m cool with that. It’s all part of the game. At least I'll be a happy man while she’s going upside my head."

  He crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled at the memories still fresh in his head. The scent of Tia that clung to his skin and clothes. Suddenly he snapped his fingers.

  “Damn, I almost forgot.” Peyton rolled off the bed and reached underneath it. Sage’s face darkened, but he didn’t say anything.

  Peyton retrieved a duffle bag nicely concealed by the bed skirt that draped the mattress. He unzipped the bag and pulled out a spiral notebook with a cheap pen attached to it. On the cover of the notebook, LOOSE ME was written in large black letters. Peyton flipped through a blur of black ink until he found the page he was looking for.

  Written on the page was a column labeled for each boy. Line after line was crammed with dates, girls' names, and lots of lurid details. Peyton, a true shameless player, grinned while he speed-scribbled a new entry in the notebook.

  Sage turned away from Peyton’s recordkeeping. Lying there quietly on his side, his eyelids got heavier and heavier, until he finally drifted off to sleep.

  When Peyton finished writing, he returned the notebook to its hiding place. Soon, his adrenaline from the night’s activities wore off, and sleep stole over him too. His chest rose and fell in a slow, synchronized rhythm. A tiny smile still played on his lips.

  Sage’s slumber was not so peaceful. Most of his body was still, but his chest pumped at a furious pace. His eyelids rippled from the motion of his eyeballs rolling behind them. Sage was in the clutches of a dark memory.

  The same memory had visited him virtually every night for the past six years. Like a video stuck on replay, the vivid images rolled over and over in his head. He was a hostage to them. Mostly in his sleep when he was lucky. Sometimes not...when he wasn’t.

  Chapter 2

  That morning in the park had been impossibly sunny, capped off by sky bluer than robin's egg. A warm breeze tickled the flowers and leaves, making them shiver in the sunshine. Sparrows chirped and twittered in a game of tag on the lush, perfectly manicured grass. A skittish rabbit munched dandelions beneath the cover of a shrub.

  It was rabbits that brought Sage and Peyton to the park in the first place. During their spring break the boys had seen a nature program about rabbit farming. Intrigued, they’d gone to the park early in the morning with hopes of catching their very own. Sage thought a rabbit would make a great pet. Peyton wanted a pair--to breed them and make some money selling the babies.

  The boys had run around the park for over an hour, armed with an old fishing net, gloves, and a cardboard box, but no luck on the hunt for rabbits. Worn out and ready to hang it up, they stopped at a drinking fountain near the park's restrooms.

  When their thirst was quenched, they sat with their backs pressed against the brick wall of the park’s restrooms, and took a much needed breather.

  Both eleven, Sage and Peyton had been friends since kindergarten. They were tall, sturdy, handsome boys. They also shared a wicked sense of humor. Being as close as brothers, they tried to out-do one another at every turn.

  Considering all their similarities, they did have one obvious difference, and it was easiest to spot when the sun cast its light in their eyes.

  Sage’s eyes reflected innocence, wide open possibilities, and obvious immunity to life’s butt-ugliness. On the other hand, Peyton’s were already becoming jaded. They definitely had some mileage on them from the things he’d seen. Those eyes could never be hooded from the harsh glare of reality.

  After a few minutes of quiet rest, Sage cupped the crotch of his jeans.

  “Dang, I need to pee so bad I can taste it.”

  Peyton snickered at the gross visual that popped into his head. He pointed to the entrance of the restroom marked Women and nudged Sage’s knee with his own.

  "Bet you won't go in there and do it," Peyton teased.

  Sage grinned, playfully elbowed his friend’s ribs.

  "Bet you I will," he said.

  "All the way in. To the last stall. And you have to sit down like a girl," Peyton shot back.

  Without hesitation, Sage leaped up and raced past the doorway. Peyton hoisted himself up to bear witness. In the process, he tripped on the end his shoelace and stopped to tie it. It snapped when he tugged on it, so he had to take the time to re-lace it.

  Meanwhile, Sage skidded to a stop just inside the dank, concrete structure. The piss-scented air made him scrunch his nose. He switched to breathing through his mouth.

  “Stinks in here,” Sage complained.

  “Don’t be a pussy,” Peyton teased. Sage flipped him off and walked a few tentative steps ahead.

  It took a second for his vision to adjust to the dim space. Once his pupils dilated sufficiently, those virginal, unpolluted eyes of his bulged with shock. Directly in front of him propped against a wall sat the love of his short life.

  Thirteen-year-old Serenity was ashen-faced and clammy-looking. But even that did little to mar her natural, innocent beauty.

  A drying, crimson stream of blood flowed from between her legs. It stained the dam fashioned by the panties and shorts bunched around her ankles. A piece of bloody, twisted wire lay across her palm. Sage choked down a huge gulp of air and belted out a scream. He bolted to Serenity's side...grabbed her empty hand.

  "Oh my god, Serenity! Who did this? What happened to you?" he barked.

  Serenity’s eyelids fluttered in response otherwise she was mute. Sage mashed his lips to her limp hand. He pressed the hand to his cheek.

  "Don't die. Please, please, don’t die. I can’t live without you. You hear me? Can’t do it, Serenity."

  He raced to the sink and snatched paper towels from the dispenser...ran back and packed the towels into the bloody apex of Serenity's legs. He struggled with her panties and shorts until he got them back around her waist. Then he scrambled to her side, cradled her limp torso, and rocked her gently.

  Seconds later his gut-wrenching wails reverberated off the stone walls.

  Peyton stood rooted at the restroom's entrance. Fear, tinged with curiosity, cloaked his face. An abrupt break in the wailing unstuck his feet and propelled him forward into the restroom.

  Peyton dashed toward his friends. His first reaction to the grisly tableau was swift vomiting of the bacon-and-eggs breakfast he’d wolfed down before heading to the park. He swiped his mouth with the back of his hand, rubbed the hand across his t-shirt, and dropped to his knees. Right into the puddle of vomit. The chunks of half-digested food that squished between his knees and the floor didn’t even faze him.

  "What happened to her!" he asked, his eyes blinking like strobe lights.

  Sage rested Serenity’s head in his lap. He stroked her hair, completely oblivious to the bl
ood, snot and tears that splattered his face and clothes. His mouth opened and closed, but no words passed his lips.

  Peyton shuddered. He cleaned a smear of blood off his friend's forehead. He wiped tears from Sage’s cheeks, while his own flowed unchecked.

  Peyton plucked Serenity's flaccid hand off the floor. He checked her wrist for a pulse imitating something he'd randomly seen on some television show.

  Based on his expression, Peyton had no idea what he was feeling for. He just figured it was the thing to do. After a few seconds, and no change in Serenity’s condition, he dropped the hand in frustration. It hit the floor with a soft thunk. Both boys flinched in offense at the sound of flesh hitting concrete.

  Sage silently prayed for his friend to try some other heroic tactic. Please save my girl, he begged with his big hazel eyes. Peyton quickly became attuned to cues that indicated his best friend was close to a major meltdown.