Coast Road (35 page)

"I think they're football buddies of Jake's, " she said and, for a split second, feeling alone and lost, would have given anything for the sight of Lydia or Shelly.

"Talk about slabs, " Teague said under his breath.

She forced a laugh. "Hey. There's Pam. Pam! " She led Teague through the crowd, stopping now and again when she felt resistance against her hand to look back and find him talking to one-girl or another. She couldn't blame those girls. He was the coolest guy in the place. She hooked an elbow through his when they reached Pam, so that no one would doubt that he was Sam's for the night.

They talked and laughed with Pam and Jake, then moved on to talk and laugh with Heather and Drew. They munched on nachos and drank beer, ate popcorn and drank beer. Teague was the perfect date, always knowing when she needed a refill, always knowing where to find it.

"How're you doing? " he said with a grin as he backed her into a corner.

She was feeling light-headed and free. "I'm doing fine. This is a great party." Putting his hands on either side of the wall, he gave her the weight of his body. His mouth was inches from hers. "I could do with fewer people.

You're sweet." He erased those inches with a kiss that was so soft and gentle that all of her earlier worries seemed absurd. His mouth moved, showing hers what to do, and was gone before she wanted it to be.

"Nice? " he asked.

She grinned. "Mmmm."

"More? " "Um-hen." It was a deeper kiss this time, more mobile and open. Samantha had read about breathlessness.

She had read about feeling a fire inside, but she hadn't experienced either in response to a kiss until then.

Rachel would not be pleased. She believed in restraint, in saving it for someone special, but who was to say Teague wasn't? There was such a thing as instant attraction, not to mention love at first sight. And was Rachel a virgin when she married Jack? Samantha thought not. So who were either of them to criticize her? Besides, if Rachel was so worried, she would have woken up from the damn coma. She would have been there to give orders and warnings, instead of leaving it to Jack.

She would have demanded a detailed itinerary as a condition for leaving the house, would have phoned some of the other parents, and Samantha would have been docked for sure. If her mother were well, she wouldn't be here right now.

That thought made her head buzz in a grating way. To still it, she poured herself into Teague's kiss, not a very hard thing to do, for at that minute he took her hands, put them behind him, and pressed his hips to hers, and oh, what she felt! When she caught her breath, his tongue entered her mouth. Startled then, she would have pulled back if there had been anywhere to go, but the wall was behind her, his hands were framing her face, and he was saying into her mouth, "Don't stop.

It's cool. Take my tongue." And he was right, it was cool, unbelievably grown-up and sexy, the feel of that tongue sliding in and out against hers, and his body, anchoring hers when it started to tremble. "Ride the feeling, " he whispered, and she did. Her mouth fell open a little, then a little more, then even more, and suddenly her tongue caught the wave.

Breathing hard, he made a guttural sound and put his forehead to hers.

"Whooh. We gotta go somewhere." Samantha was barely beginning to understand what he meant when the room began to empty. "The prom, " she managed to say.

"No. Somewhere alone."

"The prom, " she insisted. She wasn't missing her first prom for the world. She wanted people to see her with Teague Runyan. They were a great-looking couple. Lydia would die when she saw how cool they looked, not to mention the fact that super kissers had to be super dancers.

Samantha wasn't doing anything else until she danced with Teague.

She did, actually. She shared another beer with him in the truck, driving between Jake's house and school. They finished it parked in a dark corner of the lot, away from the others. This time when he gave her an open-mouthed kiss, right at the start, she knew just what to do.

She was feeling smart and strong. The only thing she was thinking about was having a good time. Life was too short to be uptight about drinking. Look at her mother, a good little do-bee who followed every rule in the book and was now lying in a coma because someone she didn't know had hit her car.

Teague came over her in the cab of the truck, holding her head while he kissed her, then dropping a hand to her breast. Samantha had ended up wearing no bra, so she felt every inch of his fingers. Startled, she cried out into his mouth, but he soothe her with words she barely heard, and his kneading felt good, so good.

"Fuck the prom, " he whispered.

"No, no, " she said and pulled away. He was moving too fast, scaring her a little. She wanted to know what she was doing, wanted to be in control. "I want to go." She took his hand and dragged him from the truck. Seconds later, he had her pinned against its side.

"You're a tease, Samantha."

"No. I want to go to the prom."

"Can we do this after? " he asked, pushing both breasts up, lowering his head to kiss the swell he had created above her dress.

It felt a little rougher now, not as good. She wanted to tell him that, but the words didn't come, and all she could think to do was to slither out from under him and say, "This is my prom." If she was relieved that he came along without a fight, she forgot it the next minute. This was her prom. She was with the coolest guy in the world, and she turned him on. It didn't get much better than that.

But it did. The school gym was transformed by dark red lights into something pretty neat, and with everyone she knew in the world watching, Teague was an awesome dancer. He didn't move much, just kind of throbbed in time to the music with his eyes on her the whole time.

She felt the same tingling inside as when he kissed her, so that when the slow dancing came, body to body, it was a relief.

She put her head on his shoulder and moved with him, feeling tired now, more mellow. When he said he needed air, she didn't argue. They walked outside, back to the truck. He popped open a couple of beers and chugged his fast, helped her with hers, and opened a third. He kissed her, touched her. She pulled him back into the school.

JACK and Hope stood in Rachel's studio, surrounded by wood moldings that would soon be frames.

"Are you sure you know how to do this? " Hope asked.

"You bet, " Jack said. "I've done it before." But not in years, and never for a show. "Those lengths of wood"�he pointed their way� "have to be cut to size with that"�his finger shifted�"miter saw. Then you predrill nail holes, apply wood glue, hammer in nails, clamp in that"�he pointed toward a heavy metal contraption�"miter vise. Piece of cake."

"But . . . but what about putting the picture in it? " "Not tonight.

The frame has to dry in the vise. Then it fits on the canvas, and we pack it in with nails." Hope grinned. "Piece of cake.

" "You bet." If it didn't come out well, he could dump the framing on Ben. "I was thinking you'd help. It isn't hard. Want to? " Hope's eyes told it all, even before she said an excited "Yes."

"Which picture first? " he asked.

After giving careful consideration to the canvases that were lined up and ready, Hope pointed to the loons. "That's my favorite." Jack didn't know if she had chosen it to please him, but he wasn't about to argue. The loons were his favorite, too. When he projected himself into the scene, he felt closer to Rachel, which was something he very much wanted to feel on this night. He had thought that taking a break from the hospital would be good, but he missed being there. He had called. Rachel was the same. Still, he felt unnerved.

No doubt some of that had to do with Samantha. He didn't think he had handled her well, but hell, he was groping blind. Maybe Rachel would have known what to do and say. Then again, maybe not. In any case, he would have liked her input. They used to discuss things� Rachel had rightly told that to Katherine. Now Jack was feeling the loss firsthand.

Deciding whether to punish the temper tantrum of a four-year-old with a spank or time alone in the bedroom was a far cry l from deciding whether to insist on a curfew, forbid drinking, or lay down the law about sex�and Teague Runyan was into sex. Jack didn't doubt it for a minute. The guy was too good looking, too physically developed, too cocksure of himself not to be experienced.

Jack should have insisted Samantha take the phone.

Whether she would have used it was another matter entirely.

His stomach was knotting for the first time in days. Taking a deep breath to relax it, he scooped up a bunch of the moldings and the miter saw. "Okay, " he told Hope as he carried them to the worktable, "let's see what we can do." SAMANTHA and Teague left the prom shortly after ten and followed Pam and Jake to Ian McWain's house. The music was canned here, but there was pizza, beer, and a punch that was incredibly sweet and good. Samantha was starting to recognize more faces, so she didn't feel so alone when Teague wandered off. But he wasn't gone long. He was never gone long. He always returned, eyes bright at the sight of her, arms catching her up and swinging her around.

She was relieved. He seemed to be having a good time, which must have said something for his feelings for her. If he didn't like her, he would be bored. He would be aching to leave. He would be standing against a wall with a scowl on his face.

But he was treating her like she was gold, grinning nonstop, bringing her drinks, dancing body to body regardless of how fast the beat, and he wasn't the only one warming to the night. Minute by minute, the kids grew looser and louder, the music faster, the dancing wilder than it had been at school. When the dining room table was cleared of pizza boxes, bottles, and cans, and became a dance floor, there was hysterical laughter all around. Laughter turned to applause when one couple jumped up and began necking. The applause was joined by raucous calls when a gid removed the top of her dress as she boogeyed.

Teague was holding Samantha from behind now, doing that same throbbing thing to the beat of the music with his body flush to hers. He had his arms wrapped around her and was alternately nibbling on her ear and moving his hands along the undersides of her breasts, teasing, teasing, she knew, and it felt good.

"Look at her, " he whispered, leaving his mouth open, and Samantha couldn't seem to focus anywhere else. The girl on the table was laughing and singing with her arms over her head now, her bare breasts bobbing to the beat of the dance. Samantha might have been embarrassed, if that part of her hadn't been muted. She was high, feeling part of the crowd, part of the fun, part of Teague Runyan even, so that when he maneuvered her back, swiped a pair of fresh long-necks with one hand, and led her outside, she wasn't alarmed. She could hear the beat even from here.

Teague felt it, too. They danced in the dark, body to body in a way she would never have thought to do, never have dared to do before, but it was nice, drinking beer as they danced, so nice, exciting, even dangerous. She was dizzy with laughter and dance. She felt sexy and adult. When Teague took her hand and, laughing, ran toward his truck, she went right along.

Pulling her close on the bench, with an arm around her and his beer dangling between her breasts, he started driving.

"Where to? " she asked, wondering how he could see, since her wodd was still spinning, but he was older, larger, protective.

"Somewhere quiet, " he said. "You're too special to share." There was nothing she could say to that, so she smiled, closed her eyes, and buried her face in the rough spot under his jaw where his beard was a darkening shadow, and even that was erotic. None of the other boys she knew had to shave more than once or twice a week.

Teague's stubble was a manly thing.

They hadn't driven far when he pulled the truck off the road. Killing engine and lights, he took a long drink, put the bottle on the floor of the cab, and turned to her. He didn't say anything, just caught her face and held it while he kissed her. She tasted beer first, then his tongue, and it was firmer now, but welcome. Her body was a mass of tingles, confusing almost, so that the only thing it knew was that it needed something more.

He held her face until she was into the kiss, then he lowered both hands to her breasts. He kneaded them and found her nipples, tugging until she felt it all the way to her belly. She arched her back, wildly dizzy but feeling good, especially when something changed. It was a full minute of bliss before she realized that her breasts were bare, scooped right out of that stretchy dress. She looked down at them in amazement, until his head blocked the view, and then while his thumb rolled one nipple, his lips caught the other, and suddenly the sensation was too great. She made a sound of protest, feeling dizzy and high and confused.

"Ride with it, " he whispered and, shifting, lowered her to the seat.

"Teague, I don't�this isn't�" "Sure it is, " he said in that grown-up, sexy way he had. He was moving against her now, making a place between her thighs and slipping a hand there. She tried to close her legs, but he rubbed her, and it felt so good that for a minute she let him, let him, even moved against him until the dizziness prevailed.

"We�have to�stop, " she whispered, trying to think straight when a part of her wanted him to keep on, but more of her was frightened. His teeth were rougher on her nipple now, and she didn't know how, but his hand was suddenly inside her nylons, touching things he shouldn't be touching.