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
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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.