Sutherland

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“How about a ride?”

Garth Laidlaw found Jennalee where she intended, on a chaise she’d dragged from poolside to an unoccupied square of lawn.

“My dad would s**t,” she said, secure behind her sunglasses

Garth said, “Whatever,” and turned away.

“Wait,” she called, and he stopped but kept his back to her, which threw the whole encounter off balance. “Okay,” she said and followed him to the motorcycle. When he handed her the battered white, half-shell helmet his brother had worn, she groaned. “Do I have to?”

He nodded. “It’s the law.” As she strapped it over her shoulder-length dark hair, Garth dangled her panties before her. “Want these?”

“Not really.”

He grinned and stuffed them into his pocket. “Let’s go.”

Jennalee climbed on behind him and felt the engine rumble to life, that same steady purr coming up through her as it had with the Sportster his mother rode, but this time Garth Laidlaw ran a hand along her thigh before starting out. He rode easy along the winding path, Jennalee’s arms around his taut middle, and Sutherlands stared and Wesley raised a hand to shade his eyes at the sight. For it was a sight as far as Jennalee was concerned, sitting behind this total hunk on the coolest bike. It felt almost San Francisco or no, more L.A., loose, laid back, and bad. She saw the image as if through a camera lens until they left the grounds, Garth twisted the throttle, and they shot onto the two-lane road.

Jennalee didn’t know where they were going, but Garth seemed to. She contented herself with his presence—he had to be at least twenty-two—and the exhilaration of escaping the inn and her parents and their awful suffocation.

Sailing along, she had no concept of time other than not wanting the ride to end. They were far from Malvern, past Sutter Creek and Jackson, deep into gold country, when Garth abruptly turned onto a dirt road that cut between low hills and wound back into a grove of oak trees. When he stopped and shut off the engine, Jennalee waited, and when he went no further than removing his helmet, she slid off the motorcycle, swinging the half-shell by its strap. “This is the coolest bike,” she said.

Garth asked, “You ride much?”

“Just with this guy in the city a few times, but he had a little one.”

“Well, I’ve got a big one.” Garth looked her up and down, lingering at her hem, and she spun away.

“Malvern is like being banished,” she said, whirling around the motorcycle. “We had this great house in San Francisco and I had a super life, all these friends, and then my dad dumps it all. God, I hate it.”

“What do you do for kicks?”

“Hang with some locals, but they’re like these farm boys, really limited. It’s another planet.”

“So you decorate the trees.” He produced the panties again, took his time locating the crotch, which he sniffed at length.

“I just did it today,” Jennalee said. “They were bothering me and it was like totally spontaneous. Funny, nobody else noticed.”

“You bet they noticed. The car in front of us drove halfway off the road and I could see the wife laying into the guy, his head whipping around. No, everybody noticed, but only one answered the call.” He was still astride the motorcycle and Jennalee could see the bulge in his jeans, and then he was unzipping. “How about a real ride?” he said as his erection sprang free. He wrapped her panties around it and stroked. “You ever f**k on a bike?”

Jennalee stared at her panties which he’d now looped over his organ, violating her even as she kept her distance.

“C’mon, show me what’s under there,” he prodded, and Jennalee whirled away laughing, unable to summon a quick retort and finally, any retort at all. “You’re not gonna tell me this is some kind of game, are you?” He was working his member in earnest now, panties at the base. He kept a grin throughout the exchange, but Jennalee felt something other than amusement. She wished she still had her panties under her skirt. “How old are you anyway?” he asked.

“Eighteen.”

“Sure.”

“I am. I graduated last month from Malvern High.”

He was shaking his head. “Sixteen’s my guess and cherry still ripe.”

“Wrong!” Soon as she said it, she wished she hadn’t.

“So you’re f*****g the farm boys?”

“I do what I want when I want.”

“So do I. And you know, you’re the best-looking thing I’ve seen in a long time. I think we could have us one wild weekend and hey, I can always come back up. It’s not a bad ride if it’s worth my while.”

Jennalee inched toward the motorcycle and ran her fingers over the handlebar. When she leaned in to kiss him, he met her open-mouthed, tongue probing, and reached under her T-shirt to capture a breast, thumb against the hard little n****e.

He kissed better than any of the boys, better even than Howard, and she leaned farther, resting a hand on the gas tank and then his thigh. He pulled her shirt up and then was at a breast, licking and sucking as his hand reached under her skirt and drove up between her legs. She had a moment’s concern at this juncture, some point-of-no-return line, never mind what all she’d done before because this guy was man instead of boy and what she would be doing with him would be different from anything she did with a Malvern boy no matter how similar the organ.

He had a finger inside her, then two fingers, thumb pressing rhythmically at her center, sweeping away all concern, and she spread herself to him and pushed against his hand until he drew back and said, “Let’s fuck.”

He pulled her panties off his p***s, but before he could assist Jennalee on board for her ride, she said, “Condom.”

“Oh, come on. You’re spoiling things.”

“Sorry, it’s the only way I’ll do it. Suit up.” Jennalee suddenly felt herself gaining the upper hand, her demand one of power.

Garth huffed, then reached in his pocket for the packet. In seconds he had expertly applied protection. “Now,” he said, edge to his voice.

She shuddered as he lifted her onto him and slid up inside her. His hands were around her waist and he began to rock her back onto the gas tank, thrusting slowly, then speedily until a “s**t yeah” erupted and he slammed into her, setting the bike teetering on its center stand. “God, what a piece,” he said as he quieted, then, “You get off or what?”

Jennalee couldn’t speak. Heat had seared her throat shut and she shifted on the still hard member, aching for release. “No?” Garth said. “Well, we can fix that.” He pushed her off him, discarded the rubber, and eased her back until she lay prone along the seat and gas tank. “Put your feet up here,” he instructed, settling her boots against the engine. He then lifted her skirt to view where he’d just been. “Look at you, all swollen and juicy,” he said and he slid off the bike, bent over her, and began to work her with an expert tongue.

No boy had ever done this and she watched at first. He caught her at this, raising his eyes as he licked. She held his gaze until he had her near the summit and as he took her over, she lay back and pushed up at him. When he finally pulled away, she saw her juices smeared across his mouth and he leaned down and kissed her, ramming his tongue into her, chasing her own. She rolled with revulsion at her own taste.

Easing off the bike, she smoothed her skirt and thought they were done, but his jeans were still open, clinging to his narrow hips while allowing a renewed erection full play. “Now me,” he said with a slow thrust and when Jennalee hesitated, he added, “C’mon, suck me off,” and pushed her down. She kneeled as she had with Jimmy what’s-his-name and took the member into her mouth.

But he wasn’t like Jimmy or Howard or any of them, he didn’t wait for her but pressed his palms over her ears and began a choking thrust, calling out “tighter” as she curled her tongue to trap him while shielding her teeth. “f**k it,” he called as he shot a stream into her throat and commanded, “Swallow,” while driving into her, adding “Every f*****g drop.”

Jennalee gagged until he withdrew. “Christ, can’t you even handle a little deep throat?” he said, laughing. “Guys around here must have pigeon dicks.”

Jennalee was coughing as Garth zipped his jeans with finality. He climbed onto the motorcycle and hit the starter. “C’mon, you’re not gonna die. Just swallow.”

She wanted to spit, but was afraid to and finally did as told. “It’s good for you,” he said. “Pure protein. C’mon.” He revved the engine and Jennalee climbed on, noting as they rode away her pink panties lying in the dry yellow grass.

He didn’t kiss her goodbye. When she climbed off the motorcycle in front of his room and he asked what she was doing later, she had no answer. “How about a late one?” he asked. “You ever f**k in a pool?” When she didn’t respond, he laughed. “You know where to find me.” He stood outside his door as she walked away and she felt his eyes upon her as her residue slid down her leg.

* * * *

By five P.M., Sutherlands were deserting the Malvern Gardens Inn for nearby restaurants. The resort had no formal dining room or coffee shop, only the catered continental breakfast each morning in the lobby. The town of Malvern boasted several restaurants featuring upscale California cuisine as well as some home cooking, plus a newly opened McDonald’s and, of course, the Dunkin Donuts Jennalee knew so well. Gerald and Jane Preece took their own brief meal during this interlude.

“Why isn’t Jennalee eating?” Gerald asked. “And where did she get to this afternoon? We could have used her help. Doesn’t she realize this is a team effort?”

Jane had seen her daughter’s return as the motorcycle passed the pool area where she was blowing up inflatable toys with Kyle Sutherland, who had cornered her and led her to the shed where they were stored. When Jane encountered Jennalee in her room some time later, the girl’s hair was still wet from a shower. “It’s so hot,” Jennalee said. “I was sticky all over.”

Jane hesitated, conscious of her daughter’s ever prickly nature. “I saw you on the motorcycle,” she said as offhandedly as possible, picking up a lanky stuffed rabbit, smoothing its worn fur. “It looked like fun.”

“It was.”

“What’s the boy’s name?”

“Garth Laidlaw.”

Jane nodded but didn’t inquire further. The name had come on a familiar tone and she knew pressing for more would only irritate her daughter. “Must be quite a thrill. The motorcycle, I mean.”

Jennalee nodded and ran a brush through her hair. She hadn’t said she would miss dinner, but when she didn’t show, Jane wasn’t surprised and fabricated on both her daughter’s and her husband’s behalf. “She had something earlier in town with friends,” she told Gerald.

“Why doesn’t she bring anyone out here?” Gerald asked.

Jane simply sighed and ate her salmon, knowing Sutherlands would soon be drifting back to pester and inquire. And when she was back at the desk facing them, she couldn’t help thinking of Garth Laidlaw, who she guessed to be at least twenty-five.

Jennalee remained in her room among her stuffed animals until tears at last erupted. She fought them down by taking her phone to the bathroom, locking the door, and calling Howard Li. She’d texted him like mad when she first arrived in Malvern and he’d texted back, sharing the agony of separation, but after several months the texts had thinned, then stopped. After his failure to answer several, Jennalee retreated, but all bets were off now. She needed him.

When all she got was his voicemail, she couldn’t manage to speak. Instead she ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. She selected baggy white slacks, a red tank top, and blue cotton panties—the underwear decision had been rescinded—all this to lie on her bed and stare at the ceiling. She remained there until long after dark when she heard her parents settle in for the night. She then slipped out and sat by the pool until she heard the thin trill of a violin, the slow movement of the Kreutzer drifting by on a faint breeze.