Coercion (25 page)

* * * *

“Val?” Daniel’s forehead wrinkled with concern as she emerged from around the side of the building, her dress rumpled and her hair like a slightly coiffed lion’s mane. He sucked on the side of his bottom lip. “Is everything okay? What were you doing back—”

Valerie’s arms curled around his shoulders as she rose on tiptoe and pressed her mouth against his. Surprised, Daniel held his breath as he closed his eyes. His whole body felt both numb and alive, and his world was consumed with only the awareness that her soft, warm lips and her orange-grove scent were obliterating the rest of his senses.

The kiss was brief but she drew away from him slowly, dropping back on her heels. His eyes creaked open, the foggy feeling in his head lingering, though he was once again becoming aware of the other students milling around, waiting for rides and returning to their cars. He swallowed and wet his lips, which felt like they now belonged to someone else. “What was that for?”

“It wasn’t for anything.” Valerie clasped one of his hands between hers and pressed it to her chest. She looked at him with a strange smile on her face. “I just wanted to.” Her voice faltered, and she cleared her throat. “I’m having a wonderful time tonight, here, with you.”

Fighting off what he was sure was an idiotic grin, Daniel lowered his head to kiss Valerie’s fingers, still curled around his own. “Come along, m’lady.” He swept some of her mussed hair off her face with his free hand and nodded to his car, parked in front of the student union. “The night’s still young. Don’t be giving out goodbye kisses yet.”

“Believe me, I’m just getting started.”

* * * *

Michael shouldered his way across the crowded patio through the throngs of formally dressed people at the after-party, his head pulsing in time to the Bonham drum solo blasting from the stereo speaker balanced in the window. The number of partygoers and their high intoxication levels made it easy for him to disguise his bloodied pant leg and his newly acquired limp. Even Breeze hadn’t noticed he was injured when he’d returned to her at the dance. Then again, she’d been sitting in Rooney’s lap, both of them tittering as they finished the contents of Rooney’s flask.

He stopped in the middle of the patio and wiped his hot face with his hands. He’d barely seen Breeze since they’d arrived at the party. Where was she now? It seemed to be his most frequently asked question, which was always met with a multitude of unpleasant answers.

Michael pressed his fingertips to his eyelids and tried to take a few deep breaths, but instead of calming down, he felt more stricken by the urge to act, to get in his truck and drive toward something that made sense. He had no idea what that something was, which only made his apprehension escalate.

He plowed his way into the house and upstairs, needing to lie down, smoke a joint and hopefully pass out. The sooner morning came, the sooner the horrible feelings would surely subside. He swung open the nearest bedroom door, prepared to kick whoever was in there out, and froze when he saw Breeze and Rooney entangled on the bed.

Breeze sat on the edge of the mattress, Rooney looming over her between her splayed legs. Both her skirt and the top of her halter dress gathered around her waist as Rooney’s right hand explored the smooth span of her upper thigh, his left kneading her breast. Rooney’s mouth devoured Breeze’s as her hand disappeared inside the zipper teeth of his pants.

Michael’s stunned feeling was instantaneous but to his surprise, it was almost immediately replaced not with anger or hurt, but a deep, powerful depression weakening his legs. He couldn’t feel anything else.

He stepped in the room and shut the door behind him, and Breeze and Rooney looked up. Breeze scrunched up her nose and winced as she drew away from Rooney and pulled her top upward, modestly covering her breasts. “It’s Michael,” she said unnecessarily, as if she were hoping someone would correct her.

Rooney leaped off Breeze like she was suddenly made of hellfire and staggered backward, slamming into the closet door, which rattled at the violent, unexpected weight. “I’m so sorry, man.” His eyes widened, wild with fear. “I’m so sorry. I don’t—I mean, I don’t…”

Michael ignored his friend and dragged himself to the bed, where he sank on the mattress beside Breeze, who watched him with suspicion and confusion. He glanced at her and gave her top a tug, exposing her breasts once more. “We’ve all seen them.”

“Michael!” Breeze crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Don’t be so rude.”

He laughed at her request considering the circumstances. He felt if he didn’t, he would start crying. Breeze continued to stare at him as if he’d just fled the nearest asylum.

Rooney zipped his pants with clumsy fingers. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, near tears. His whole body shook, racked with nerves. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It was a drunk, stupid mistake. I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry, man.”

Michael stopped laughing, and his shoulders slumped as he leaned forward and buried his head in his hands. “We all know it wasn’t a mistake.”

Rooney froze, looking from Michael to Breeze and back again. He licked his lips and clamped down on them so hard his entire mouth seemed to disappear. “I’m sorry.” He stumbled out of the room, closing the door as he left.

Michael and Breeze sat side by side, listening to the muffled sounds of the party downstairs seep through the door. Finally, Breeze let out an edgy sigh. “Look, I’m sure you’re pissed at me, so grow up and just say so instead of sitting there giving me the silent treatment.”

“I’m not pissed at you.” Michael knew it was the truth.

“Don’t tell me you’re pissed at Rooney. You guys are friends. Just because he’s been in love with me forever doesn’t mean you should hate him.”

“I don’t hate him.”

Breeze bounced on the bed. “Then what? I’m sorry this happened. I don’t know what to tell you. We both had too much to drink, and forgive me if I don’t consider you to be the safest bet.”

Michael straightened and faced Breeze. Her hair looked pale blue in the moonlight sneaking in the window, and her face, although set with defiance as if ready for battle, was feminine and almost fairylike. He touched her cheek and leaned toward her, pressing his lips to hers.

He could feel her whole body yield just from the way she kissed. Breeze opened her mouth, letting his tongue sneak inside, and moaned. She dropped her arms away from her chest and cupped his face in her hands, giving him free rein of her breasts, which he readily took. Then she drew away from their kiss and tilted her head back, and his lips traveled up the side of her neck as she let out another whimper.

“This is different,” she said with a needy sigh.

“Is it?” he asked between kisses.

“Yes.” Breeze’s laugh turned into a whimper as Michael’s teeth nipped at the sensitive skin of her earlobe. “Usually the makeup sex doesn’t come until after the screaming match.”

“I told you, I’m not mad.” Michael’s fingertips grazed a circular pattern around her nipple.

Breeze pulled away from him, worry evident in her eyes. “You really aren’t?” Her tone was no longer flirtatious, but small and filled with trepidation.

He moved toward her again and kissed a path along her jaw. “I’m really not.”

She fell silent as her hands wove through his hair, and his mouth made its way back to her now stiff lips. She responded, her kisses sloppy and distracted. Michael stood, grabbed Breeze by the wrists and tugged her to her feet. “Do you want us to stop?”

Breeze looked at him with a sadness he was sure matched his own. Still, she shook her hair out of her face and flashed him a brilliant smile. “Of course I don’t.”

Michael accepted the false bravado in her voice, and his mouth was on hers in an instant. She again tangled her fingers in his hair, and her legs went around his waist. He winced at the sudden extra weight inflicted upon his injured leg but gritted his teeth and maneuvered them so she was trapped between him and the closet door.

“Poor Rooney,” Breeze murmured as Michael’s mouth dropped to her neck. “He’s probably wondering what happened to us.” Her whisper sounded more like a moan as Michael licked a path from her throat to her ear.

“He’ll figure it out—” His hands dug into her hips. “—when you come back looking like you had the best sex in your life.” With that, he felt the wetness between her legs and yanked aside the crotch of her panties with such force the thin fabric tore. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She silenced any further conversation with a kiss. One of her arms remained wrapped around his neck as her other hand dropped to his belt, which she quickly unbuckled. Michael was momentarily stunned by her passion and intensity compared to her reluctance just moments ago, but as she pulled out his cock and stroked him up and down, he decided he couldn’t care less.

He chose not to waste a single moment more. His lips still crushed against hers, he moved her hand away from his shaft and hitched her hips farther around his waist. Ignoring the agony of his bruising leg, he steered into her with one fluid stroke.

Her face contorted into a silent cry, and her fingertips dug into his scalp as he plunged into her. “Oh God, Michael,” she choked out in a high-pitched whisper.

“Did you miss this?” He gripped her bare thighs, her legs still locked around him by the ankles. He could feel the familiar feeling start to curl and tingle in his spine; he was getting close.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Oh God, I love this. I love you, Michael. I love you.”

His stomach dropped at her words, even though he’d been craving to hear them for months. He didn’t reply. His grip on her grew tighter and he drove himself into her, filling her to the hilt. Michael let out one final groan as he came, his whole body convulsing in one shudder. She followed suit, her teeth digging into his shoulder, and he tried not to cry out.

Friday

May 9, 1975

Valerie placed her plush unicorn into a cardboard box with care. “I think that’s the last of it.”

“Oh, please.” Shannon swooped in like a bird of prey and snatched up the stuffed toy, which she held by its front legs and turned so it faced Valerie. “You’re not seriously bringing this with you to St. Louis, are you?” She made the plaything’s hooves kick helplessly with her every word.

“That’s Sparkles.” Valerie grabbed the plush toy from her friend and gave it a protective squeeze. “It’s the unicorn I’ve had since forever.”

“It’s the unicorn that’s going to destroy your sex life.” Shannon groaned as Valerie lovingly tucked the stuffed horse back into the box. “At this rate, you’re going to have to find a boy who likes you for who you really are.”

“Imagine that,” Valerie said with a wink.

Shannon fell back on Valerie’s bed. “This is so weird. Our college career has come to an end. Now we have to go out in the real world and be grownups.”

“I know. Everything’s going to be so different.”

“I’m sort of worried.” Shannon nipped at her lower lip. “Do you realize this is the first time we’ll really be apart since grade school? You’ll be in St. Louis, I’ll be at Lee’s Summit and we’ll probably never be friends again.”

Valerie collapsed on top of her friend and enveloped her in a giant hug. “Never gonna happen. You mean far too much to me for us to ever lose touch completely. I’ll always want to be a part of your life.”

“Don’t go getting all mushy on me.” Shannon’s eyes shone with unshed tears, but she blinked them away and smiled. “Just think about all the guys we’ll meet now that we’re leaving Kenton. We’ll be around a whole new breed instead of the same losers we’ve seen for the past four years in this boring town.”

Valerie wagged a finger in her friend’s direction. “Have I ever told you how sorry I feel for Rick?”

Shannon laughed. “Don’t worry about him. I’m not making any hasty decisions. I’m just keeping my options open.” She threw a pillow at Valerie. “And what about you? Aren’t you leaving Daniel alone in the lurch?”

Valerie blushed. “I’m doing no such thing.”

“Talk about guys we feel sorry for.” Shannon clucked her tongue. “He’s waited all this time to finally win your heart and just as he’s done it, you’re leaving town.”

“We were never anything official.” Valerie pushed herself off the mattress and kneeled by the stack of boxes in the middle of her floor. “And since I’m leaving so soon after graduation, we decided to keep it that way.”

“Is that regret I hear in your voice?”

“It might be.” Valerie’s mouth curved into a rueful smile as she folded a box closed. “I just wish I’d known everything I do now about nine months ago.” She sighed. “At any rate, nothing’s hopeless. If we’re meant to be, we’ll figure out what to do.”

“That’s very wise of you. I take it you got some sage advice from good ol’ Aunt Linda about him?”

“Believe it or not, I came up with that mature solution all on my own.”

“Oh, Aunt Linda.” Shannon sighed as she tossed another pillow in the air several times. “I can’t wait to hear the pearls of wisdom she passed to you about life after college. Did she tell you to how to bake the perfect stew to warm a man’s heart? How to throw the perfect dinner party? Please tell me she didn’t instruct you to pack that stupid unicorn.”

Valerie smiled. “None of the above, actually. She just said to be safe and have fun. She was very vague for a change. It was nice. It made me feel like I was already doing something right. I’m just so tired of being wrong.”

“Speaking of doing stuff wrong...” Shannon rolled onto her back and drew aimless, invisible circles in the air with her toe. “Did you hear about Michael Vartanian?”

Valerie concentrated hard on the boxes. “I’m afraid I’m not up to date on my MV information.”

Shannon nodded slowly. “I suppose that’s the way to be. I’m sorry I brought it up at all.”

A silence settled between the girls. Then, after a few minutes, Valerie slapped her hands on top of a closed box and let out a frustrated howl. “Just tell me already!”

“Okay!” Shannon said as if she’d been holding her breath the entire time. “I heard he got booted out of Kenton.” She emphasized her words with a kick to the air.