Tangled Web (7 page)

When Katie came back in the bedroom area,
Riley had his tuxedo jacket draped over a chair, and he had a CD
player plugged in, but he had it tuned to the local rock station.
It was turned down low playing Ozzy’s “No More Tears” at the
moment. He had even lit a candle, and only one small lamp across
the room was burning. He had that stupid bottle of Jack on the
table too. But he looked at her and held out his hands, not saying
a word. Her hands joined his, and he led her to the bed. His lips
began an assault on hers and, within minutes, he had untied the
sash on the back of her dress and was groping for the elusive side
zipper. She’d unbuttoned his shirt, but she couldn’t stop her hands
from trembling. She laid them on his chest. “Riley?”

“Hmm?” His lips paused on her neck.

“I’m really nervous. I can’t stop
shaking.”

He looked in her eyes, and his were almost
unrecognizable in this primal state. “I’ve got a cure for
that.”

She was going to scream if he offered her
Jack Daniels again, his answer for everything, but he didn’t. He
walked over to his bag that rested on the dresser up against the
wall. He brought over a sandwich bag, and when he got closer, she
saw that it was marijuana. She’d never smoked it before, but he had
a little gold pipe and a lighter and appeared to be an expert.
“Trust me, Katie. This’ll help you relax.” She looked dubious.
“Have I ever lied to you?” He packed some of the green stuff into
the pipe and wrapped his lips around the end, then lit it. He
sucked in the smoke and held it in for a few seconds, then exhaled.
He said, “When you inhale, hold it in as long as you can. That
helps.”

Katie was still hesitant. She’d never done
drugs before and wasn’t sure she wanted to smoke weed. But she
looked at Riley and decided that she would trust him. The smoke
smelled good. So she took the pipe and inhaled it like Riley said.
Only she couldn’t hold it in like he had. She started coughing.
Riley smiled. “Try again.” She did and the second time was more
successful. They passed the pipe back and forth a few times until
Riley set it down and started kissing her again. If anyone had ever
asked her, she would have said that no, she’d never been high. But
she had to admit that night that it did take the edge off. The
illicit substance had, in fact, helped her relax.

So when Riley did find her zipper, she was
feeling a whole lot better about the entire thing. Before she knew
it, both of them were undressed, bodies touching on top of the bed
covers. Riley had touched every part of her naked body except for
the area between her legs, and she was eager. She was still nervous
but also excited. He whispered, “Are you ready?” She nodded, and he
ripped open a condom that he had earlier placed on the bedside
table. She watched him roll it over his engorged penis, fascinated,
and then his lips were back on her lips, his body on top of hers,
his legs in between her two, and his penis in position. He began
moving inside her slowly. It felt okay at first, but then it
started to hurt as he moved farther in. “Wait. Stop.” She moved her
hands to the top of his shoulders, as though pressing down on them
could stop his journey inside. But he did pause.

“What’s wrong?”

“It hurts really bad.”

They maintained that position for a while,
and Katie would wonder years later how he’d managed to stay hard
that whole time. Of course, it probably wasn’t difficult at all for
him, ensheathed in that tight little space. Once she’d worked up
the courage, she told him to go ahead. He told her she could bite
him if she needed to, and she did. She yelled too as he demolished
her girlhood, her innocence. And so, maybe not to someone she
loved, and maybe a little older than most of the girls she went to
school with, Katie Logan lost her virginity on Prom Night her
senior year of high school.

She didn’t think Johnny knew. That Monday
felt like any other day. The band members all hung out together at
the beginning of school, a new day, nothing special. Katie might
have felt a little more mature, but the vibes with everyone felt
the same. But the next day, Tuesday, both Johnny and Riley came to
school with bruises and scratches on their faces. Neither said
much, but Riley told Katie that he and Johnny had been in a
scuffle. Nothing to worry about, he told her, just a brotherly
scrap.

Did Johnny know what had happened between
her and Riley? Katie thought maybe he did, but he hadn’t said
anything to her. He and Lisa didn’t last long either, and Katie was
pretty sure that, for once, Johnny hadn’t gotten laid. Katie
herself had been sore after that first sexual encounter and was
horrified at the blood on the bed. Riley had apologized, but she
knew it would have to happen sometime, whether it had been Riley or
someone else. And Riley had been patient and gentle, so she figured
it couldn’t have been any better than that. The next day she found
herself limping, so before she even got home, she decided to tell
her parents she’d twisted an ankle in her heels at the prom. She
spent that whole day walking as little as possible, hoping what
happened wasn’t obvious.

But the few weeks before graduation were
strange. Riley cooled as quickly as a sidewalk on a winter
afternoon. They still saw each other, but it was like Katie wasn’t
that exciting to him anymore. They even had sex twice more, and the
third time didn’t hurt at all. She still didn’t quite understand
what the fuss was about (and figured she’d understand sometime). It
wasn’t that it didn’t feel good, but it wasn’t a trip to paradise
like she’d always heard. Maybe that would change with age, she
wondered.

Part of her wasn’t surprised at all that
Riley was putting some distance between the two, but part of her
was hurt too, although she wouldn’t admit it. Riley had been her
first in many ways. And even though she’d sometimes fantasized that
he was Johnny when he was kissing her, he still was her first.
She’d never loved him, but he had been a large part of her life,
whether she wanted to admit it or not.

She felt empty. Really empty. She was glad
graduation was around the corner.

* * *

Sitting on Katie’s couch, Johnny was
laughing at the two-page spread of the Battle of the Bands. The
pictures were black and white, but the biggest one was of Spawn of
Satan. “Look how young we were!”

Katie laughed too. She pointed at another
picture that had a girl drummer. “Look at her hair. Can you believe
we wore it like that then?”

Johnny smiled and looked closer. “Look at
some of the clothes.”

Katie snickered again and then caught
herself yawning. She covered her mouth. “Sorry.”

Johnny looked up and shook his head. “No,
don’t be. Sorry, kid. I guess it’s getting late. Guess I should
probably go.” He closed the yearbook and set it on the coffee
table. “It’s been fun, though.”

Katie wasn’t about to argue for him to stay.
It was Tuesday night, and she still had most of the week to
struggle through. If she didn’t get enough sleep tonight, she’d be
even sleepier tomorrow, and Grant was due back Thursday. She wanted
to be alert and awake when he got back. Katie stood and stretched.
“So what’s the plan for the rest of your stay?”

“I’ll probably be here a couple of weeks.
I’m going to start making some calls tomorrow, tapping into the
local music scene. Start auditioning guys as soon as possible,
probably slap together my new band by Monday. That’s the plan
anyway. Oh, and hang with my mom. She’ll kill me if I don’t spend
more time with her.” He stood up and carried his empty beer bottle
in the kitchen. “We’ll have to get together at least once more
before I go.”

Katie wandered toward the kitchen. “Yeah.”
And, she thought, she’d have to introduce him and Grant to each
other too. But that could wait. It was too late now to launch into
that spiel tonight. God, she was such a wuss. “We still have
catching up to do. But no more beer.”

He grinned. “Deal.” Katie walked toward the
door, pausing in front, turning to face Johnny. He said, “It was
really good to see you, Katie.”

“You too, Johnny.” They embraced each other.
“I always forget how much I miss you until I see you again.” They
both patted each other on the back. As she started to pull away,
she felt that Johnny wasn’t ready to let go yet. So she leaned her
head against his chest again and lost herself in his hug.

Inherent in the hug was the message that he
had missed Katie as much as she had missed him. That much she
believed and knew in her heart. He did let go, almost reluctantly,
Katie thought, and she smiled. It really was good to have her best
friend here.

But as she did at last pull back and her
eyes met his, she realized she was dead wrong. It was more than
that. His pupils were dilated as though he had been in a dark room
for several minutes, and they were gazing into hers. Could it
be...?

Yes. She read him like her favorite book,
and their lips met before she could ponder it more. A thought, an
image of Grant flashed for all but a second in her mind, and then
it was swept away, along with any guilt she should have felt. Her
brain told her that Johnny had been in her life long before Grant
had been, and so what they did together didn’t matter. It was a
lame justification, but it was out of her mind almost as quickly as
it had entered. This moment had been a fantasy for far too long,
and there was no stopping it now.

No one had ever kissed her like Johnny had.
Maybe it was the years of unrequited yearning, but she swore he was
different. And his gentle tongue was exploring her mouth, warm and
tender but insistent. Katie supposed with what fleeting thought she
had left that he’d had plenty of practice with plenty of
uninhibited women, so of course he would be a good kisser. Every
nerve ending in her body stood at attention. She definitely wasn’t
sleepy anymore.

She’d always loved the way Johnny
smelled--kind of a sweet, woody, salty smell, but up close his
scent was an aphrodisiac, and his tongue tasted like he smelled,
but sweeter, even when mixed with the leftover remnants of beer.
She felt the chemical response of her body, her blood flowing
through her veins delivering mood-enhancing drugs, so she felt
relaxed but alert and eager as hell.

She heard the CD tray switch over from Nine
Inch Nails to Korn, and the back of her mind registered that Johnny
had never indicated he was throwing Korn in his deejay mix. She
heard the slow, gentle rising tones of soft drums and cymbals,
followed by Jonathan Davis’s crying bagpipes as “Dead” began
playing in the background. She couldn’t give it any conscious
thought, though, as Johnny pressed her back up against the door,
leaving no space between their two bodies. She felt her pulse
quicken, her breathing deepen. His kisses were persistent and firm,
his hands holding her at her hips. What little thought she had left
was focused on the fact that this was a moment she had actually
dreamed of for more than fifteen years.

And so it was no surprise that, by instinct,
her hands had found their way to the back of his neck, as though
holding it in her hands would make him stay. An irrational thought,
she knew, but she started questioning if this was really happening.
Just enjoy the moment
, she told herself, as she slid her
fingers up through his hair. She’d known Johnny for most of her
life and had never run her fingers through his hair, and now she
desperately wanted to. It did feel like a possessive move, like his
hair between her fingers would stop him from leaving. All it did
was make her want more; she wanted to feel every part of his body,
not with a friend’s hands, but a lover’s. And, having fulfilled one
wish, her hands then slid back down his neck, drifting down his
chest, to the bottom of his shirt. Her palms found their way to his
stomach, and then glided back up, pulling his shirt up with her
hands. It was at that moment that she decided that, if she had any
say in the matter, they would not stop until he had been inside
her. Just kissing him and running her fingers through his hair
would not be enough. Her fingertips felt each muscular ridge of his
torso on their journey back up. He was ripped, not an ounce of fat
on him. She’d had no idea. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been
so thin, so wasted, emaciated. She knew now, though, that the years
in between he’d taken care of himself, just like he’d promised.

When his shirt made its way past his pecs,
Johnny raised up his arm, grabbing the bunched up fabric with his
right hand, and pulled it over his head. Their heads parted, but
Katie couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. What if this wasn’t
real? After their lips met again, Johnny’s then left hers to begin
moving down Katie’s neck, and he dropped the shirt to the floor.
She felt herself quiver and moan softly as Johnny found what was
likely her most erogenous zone, the area of her neck an inch below
her ear, heading toward her chin. He continued kissing her, making
his way lower toward her cleavage. Her lips brushed his forehead,
and his hair tickled her nose. His hands moved up from her waist to
her breasts, cupping them for a moment, but continuing up even
farther. She felt the fingers of both his hands around the top
button of her satin blouse. His kisses just above that area
continued, moist, tender, and warm. He pulled back, and Katie
didn’t know if he was inspired or simply fumbling with the blouse,
but finally he grabbed both sides of the blouse just above her
breasts and pulled the two sides apart. The buttons couldn’t take
the pressure and popped off as her blouse ripped apart. She could
feel his animal strength, and even though she should have been
angry that he’d ruined her blouse, she instead found herself more
excited and she gasped. Johnny was taking charge--he knew what he
wanted, and he was going to take it, couldn’t even be bothered with
the formality and trouble that buttons caused. Added to a feeling
of recklessness, she could feel him growing hard, straining against
his jeans, and she felt as though she couldn’t wait any longer. He
cupped her breasts again, still hiding under her lacy white bra,
and ravenously kissed the flesh exposed by the absence of her
blouse.