He grins, “Where, to hell?”
Lark nods overly seriously. “Mmm-hmm. The City of Satan.”
“Satan doesn’t have a city,” I mutter to myself.
“How would you know?” she challenges. “Have you been to hell?”
“No. And I don’t plan on going.”
Lance scoffs, “Don’t worry about me, ladies. I booked a first class ticket to the City of Satan years ago.” He winks at me. “Paid for it with my frequent flyer miles.”
“You shouldn’t joke about that,” I grumble. No matter how much Mom likes to tell me and Charity that something as slight as running a red light or taking the Lord’s name in vain will earn us a one way trip to eternal torment in the land of fiery cauldrons, and no matter how ridiculous I think she is, the jury is still out on whether or not people go to hell for minor transgressions. So my motto is play it safe.
Lark rolls her eyes, “I told you, Chaz. God is nice. She doesn’t send people to hell for lying about their age.”
“Still,” I grumble.
“Fuck that noise,” Lance says. “No more God talk. This is a party. We’re supposed to be having fun. We need some music. I feel like we’re stuck inside that old movie Footloose.”
“Foot what?” Lark asks.
“Nothing. Pink, your party needs tuneage. Now.”
I frown, “My mom and I have a… thing when it comes to what music is allowed in the house. Or at my parties. The compromise was not to have any.”
Lance gawks. “You can’t have a party without music. This place feels like a fucking mortuary.”
“Okay. What did you have in mind? All I have is the music on my phone.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got shit back at my house that’ll light this place up.”
“What, a bag full of Molly?” Lark chuckles. “Because that’s what you’re gonna need to light up this crowd.”
Lance smirks, “Who needs Molly when you got me?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demand. “Are you going to strip for us or something?” I clamp my hand over my mouth, surprised I said something so bold.
“I could,” he grins and lifts his shirt, revealing his abs.
Lark’s eyes bulge as she stares, pointing. “Happy trail!”
“Stop!” I knock her hand down.
“Let’s go, ladies. I need your help over at my house.” He says it with so much innuendo, my heart spins into overdrive.
What does he mean by help? Like, sex help?
From me and Lark?
Gulp.
“Let’s go, Pink,” he says. “Time’s a wastin’.”
I say, “Okay, but we have to be quick. Mom’ll freak out if she realizes I’ve left my own birthday party.” What I really mean is: I may be interested in losing my virginity tonight, but not in a three-way with you and my best friend.
He wouldn’t try something like that, would he?
I’m not really sure but Lance isn’t exactly the Ned Flanders type.
Lance reaches for my hand. “Trust me. You’re going to enjoy this…”
“Enjoy what?” My voice quivers.
“Me, of course.” He grabs my hand before I can stop him and sneaks me and Lark out the side gate.
I hope I don’t regret this.
++++8++++
LANCE
Damn, this chick Lark is fucking tight. Between her and Pink, this is some serious Garden of Eden shit right here.
“I don’t know if we should be doing this,” Chastity says nervously.
“Relax,” I say. “I do this sort of thing all the time.” The living room in the rental house is dark. It’s just me and these two hotties. I’m up to my elbows in sloppy boxes.
“My mom will kill me if she finds out,” Chastity whimpers.
“It’s okay, Chaz,” Lark purrs. “Loosen up. What’s the big deal? This is totally worth whatever shit your mom gives you later. If she even says anything.”
“Believe me,” Chastity squeaks, “she’ll say something.”
Lark rolls her eyes. “It’s okay, Chaz. I mean, it’s your eighteenth birthday. You deserve to let loose and enjoy yourself.”
“If you say so.” Chastity doesn’t sound like she’s into this.
She’ll come around.
They always do.
“Yeah, that’s it,” I grunt as I pull my arm out of the nearest box. “I knew I packed my old headphones somewhere. Hold this.”
Lark grabs the headphones and loops the cord neatly around her hand.
I ask Chastity, “Do you see my DJ turntable around here somewhere?”
“I have no idea what that looks like.”
“It’s a black box with two silver wheels on top.”
“Wheels?” She’s confused.
I walk over next to her and search through the pile of cardboard boxes in the corner, brushing my shoulder against hers on purpose. Now that we’re alone, I kind of wish I hadn’t brought Lark to help. But there’s too much DJ shit for two people to carry. “Here it is,” I say as I haul the turntable out of a random box and hand it to Chastity.
She smiles and cradles it like she’s holding our baby or some shit.
Chicks. Sometimes, it’s just too fucking easy. After I fuck her, I’ll have to buy her flowers or whatever when I end things. She deserves that much.
Lark asks, “Lance, do you have a fog machine? All DJs have fog machines, right?”
“There’s one around here someplace.”
“Really? Where?”
“I don’t know. Dig through some boxes.”
Chastity says, “As much as I’d like to stay and look for the fog machine, my mom has probably already put out an Amber Alert for me. And if we bring a fog machine, she’ll probably nix it on the grounds that it reminds her of Hades or brimstone or something.”
Lark sighs, “She’s right. We can have the brimstone machine next time. Hey, Lance, do you have any booze we can use to spike the punch back at the party?”
I want to say, There’s plenty in my dad’s iced tea bottle, but I don’t.
“Are you crazy?” Chastity blurts. “I told you, my mom will go ballistic if we try. You know she’ll find out.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Lark says to me.
I don’t know where my dad is getting more booze. He must’ve walked to a liquor store when I was out yesterday. I can never figure out where he hides his shit. If I did, I’d trash it. Sometimes I think he hides it up his ass. I’m not going looking for it there.
“Well?” Lark pushes.
I’m getting irritated. “Sorry, Sparky. I’m fresh out.” I pick up the PA speakers and carry them to the front door. “Let’s go.”
“What happened to Mr. Bad Boy?” Lark presses, standing her ground.
I frown. “Are you kidding? You know that church camp back at Chastity’s house is going to die a slow painful death if we don’t do something quick.”
Lark says, “You’re old enough to buy booze, right?”
“Yeah,” I sigh, “but I’m not getting any.”
“Why not?”
“Cause I’m not.”
“Why?”
I glare at her. I’m not about to explain that I won’t contribute to my dad’s alcoholism. That would require I tell her he’s a drunk, and I hate talking about that shit. The fact that he is a drunk already makes me miserable enough. Going into it with strangers makes it worse because they always say encouraging shit like, He can get help. But I know he’s never gonna change. It’s in his genes.
Chastity says, “Drop it, Lark. He said no.”
Silent thanks for that. I like Chastity’s spunk. She’s nobody’s bitch. I smile at Lark. “Let’s go, ladies. I can hear Chastity’s party breathing its last breath. They’ll probably start playing Bingo if we don’t get back soon.”
“Bingo?” Lark smirks and turns to Chastity. “This guy is totally perfect for you. Match made in heaven material.”
“How again?” Chastity asks.<
br />
“After you guys have sex,” Lark says to me, “you can go to Bingo night at her church together.”
“Your church has Bingo nights?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Chastity says.
I chuckle, “I love Bingo.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Why the fuck not? It’s fun.”
“I love Bingo too,” Chastity blushes and hides behind her fuck me hair.
Yeah, yeah. She’s falling for me. I knew that yesterday. There’s worse things. I’ll just have to explain to her I don’t fall for anybody.
After we fuck.
And maybe play some Bingo.
Chapter 8
CHASTITY
“What’s all this?” Mom asks, eyeing Lance’s DJ gear suspiciously as we set it up on the card table Lark and I grabbed from the garage.
Lark says, “It’s for the music, Mrs. Shields.”
“What music?” Mom grumbles and aims a dangerous look at me. “I thought we agreed there would be no music.”
Lance says, “It’s cool, Mrs. Shields. I’ll keep it low enough so the neighbors don’t complain.”
“I’m not worried about the neighbors,” Mom says. Meaning, she’s the one complaining.
Lance places his hands on Mom’s shoulders. “Relax, Mrs. Shields. I won’t play anything offensive.”
“He’s a great DJ,” Mr. McKnight says. It’s the first time he’s come out of his corner all night. He takes a sip of his AriZona Iced Tea. Lance gives him a sharp look, a secret moment passing between them. What was that about?
“I don’t know…” Mom says nervously.
“All set,” Lark says, dusting off her hands. She just finished plugging in a long orange extension cord that runs to an outdoor outlet by the sliding patio door.
Lance slides behind the table and flips a bunch of switches and turns dials like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Mom watches Lance like he’s setting the timer on a time bomb. She stares at the big speakers like the Devil himself might jump out at any second and start corrupting young impressionable minds left and right.
The first song to play is Surfin’ U.S.A.
Mom smiles instantly. “I love The Beach Boys!”
It’s a bit dated, as in pre-historic. But Mom is smiling.
“I told you I knew what I was doing,” Lance mutters.
Mr. McKnight sets his AriZona Iced Tea bottle on the DJ table. Lance grimaces when he sees the bottle. Before Lance can say anything, Mr. McKnight grabs my mom and the two of them start dancing like imbeciles.
I can’t believe my eyes.
Charity walks out of the house carrying a tray of appetizers and nearly drops it when she sees Mom. Then she hurries over next to me and sets the tray down. She whispers in my ear, “What the heck is Mom doing?”
“I have no idea,” I giggle.
The next song Lance plays is yet another surf classic, Wipeout!
“I thought this was supposed to be a pool party, people!” Lance hollers. “Everybody into the water!” He peels his shirt over his head, revealing his crazy perfect body, kicks off his boots, and yanks his jeans down, leaving only his black boxer briefs.
Everybody gawks because he’s stripping. Literally.
Beauty has a power all its own.
Lance dashes from behind the card table and leaps into the air, doing a slow front flip into the water, landing with a big splash that splatters the deck. The church kids jump back, trying to stay dry. Lance surfaces and whips his wet hair out of his face. “Come on, you guys, the water is fucking perfect! Quit standing around and jump the fuck in!”
I wince.
Mom winces.
Lark laughs.
Charity giggles and dives lithely into the deep end near Lance. They start frolicking and splashing each other like a couple of happy dolphins. Just what you would expect at a normal pool party.
Lark drops her pink short-shorts in front of everybody and peels her camisole off. A moment later, she is wearing nothing but the sexiest bikini ever. The bottom isn’t quite a thong, but it’s close enough and makes her butt look perfect.
Mom gives her a dirty glare.
The guys from church all look away bashfully, frightened by Lark’s boldness. A few sneak polite glances. The girls from church smirk primly, eye-daggering Lark repeatedly. If they had a pile of stones, you know they’d start throwing them at the whore. Mom would be right beside them with a bullhorn shouting Kill the harlot!
Lance’s eyes bulge when he sees Lark in her bikini, but he tries to pretend he’s not staring.
Before I have time to be jealous, Lark dives into the pool and swims toward Lance and Charity.
Okay, I have plenty of time to be jealous. I push down my church dress, revealing my sexy pink bikini. The one that earned me my nickname. It’s not as sexy as Lark’s, but it’ll do.
“Chastity!” Mom barks. “What are you wearing?!”
“My swimsuit,” I grin as I dive into the pool to join the fun. I also want to make sure Lance doesn’t get too close to Lark in her dental floss bikini.
For the next hour, a playlist of beachy surf music drifts from the speakers. My favorites are Papa Oom Mow Mow by the Rivingtons and Good Vibrations by The Beach Boys.
When Hang On Sloopy plays, Mom semi-slow dances with Mr. McKnight. They do a clumsy waltz together. They look stiff because Mom is making sure to leave enough room between them for the Holy Ghost. At least she’s dancing.
It doesn’t take long for the other kids to change into bathing suits and jump in the pool. Lance quickly organizes a game of Marco Polo. When that gets old, he directs the girls to climb on the shoulders of the guys for chicken fights. Charity insists on being on Lance’s shoulders, which means Lark and I don’t have to fight over him, so I’m fine with it. The two of them are nearly unstoppable because Lance is stronger than everybody put together and he does all the work for Charity. Despite that, everyone is laughing and giggling and having a thousand times more fun than I ever thought I’d have when this party started. When Lance and Charity are declared the chicken fight champions, we set up the swimming pool volleyball net and divide into teams. Everyone has a blast.
No matter how hard Mom tried to keep things boring, once again, Lance flipped the script.
++++8++++
CHASTITY
“Where’s the birthday girl?” Mom smiles as she walks out of the house with the cake and the burning candles. Everyone stops what they’re doing or climbs out of the pool to gather around Mom and sing Happy Birthday to me.
Lark wraps her arm around my shoulders. “You’re all grown up, girlfriend?”
“Yeah,” I giggle.
“And many more!!!!” everyone choruses.
I step forward to blow out the candles.
“Make a wish!” Charity cheers.
I stop short and glance at Lance.
“Hush, Charity,” Mom hisses. “Witchcraft is the Devil’s work.”
Charity rolls her eyes. “Wishes aren’t witchcraft.”
“Hush.”
Lark chuckles, “Make a wish anyway.”
Mom eye-shoots Lark.
Lark wears a mom-proof vest that deflects the hate bullets.
Lance smiles his dangerous grin.
We lock eyes and a jolt of joy flashes through me. “I wish for…”
“Don’t say it out loud!” Charity hollers. “You’ll ruin it!”
People laugh.
I blow out the candles with one quick puff. I’m pretty sure that means my wish involving Lance and me and all kinds of naughtiness will come true. The only question is when.
Mom cuts slices of cake for everyone and Charity hands two to me and Lance.
“Thanks, Chair,” I smile.
“Thanks, kid,” Lance says, winking at her as she walks away.
He cuts into his cake with his plastic fork and slides a bite sensuously into his mouth, chewing slowly, enjoying every moment. His eyes burn into mine the whole
time.
I’m mesmerized watching his mouth work. A dab of frosting is stuck to the corner of his full lips. I desperately want to lick it off. His eyes flicker suggestively. Just as I’m about to lean forward and suck off that dab of frosting with my own lips, his tongue snakes slowly out of his mouth and licks the frosting clean in a slow swipe.
I hide a pleasant shiver as a wave of sensations quivers through me, wondering what else he knows how to do with that tongue…
“You gonna make me eat your cake all by myself, Pink?”
Gulp. I can read between the lines. This is all so deliciously naughty. “Oh, yeah, right.” I fork my own piece of cake and start chewing. I’m barely aware of the yummy flavor because I’m so focused on Lance’s lips as he takes another bite. We stare at each other while we chew. It’s like we’re kissing. I work my tongue around in my mouth, imagining the cake is a piece of Lance.
He says, “I knew the cake in your pink box would be damn sweet, but I had no idea it’d be this good.” He shovels more cake into his mouth and chomps merrily away.
At that exact moment, Mom catches my eye and glares at me, ruining my moment. As usual.
I suddenly feel guilty and glare at Lance like I wasn’t just enjoying every second of our cake sex. “Will you stop!” I nearly choke on the gooey wad of Lance still in my mouth. Unable to swallow, I cough into my napkin, afraid chunks of frosting might go flying.
He laughs around a mouthful of cake, “Sorry. My bad.”
“You’re always bad,” I laugh, dabbing cake-Lance off my lips with my paper napkin.
“That’s what the ladies tell me.” He glances over at the table where all my presents are stacked. “Hey, when you gonna open that huge stack of loot people brought you?”
“Later. Everyone’s having too much fun. Tonight doesn’t have to be all about me.”
“Why not? It’s your birthday.”
“In that case, where’s my present, Mister? I don’t remember you bringing one.”
The Bad Boy Next Door: Lance & Chastity Page 9