Chapter 7
The following Friday night Bill Collins felt as though Fate had given him the back of her hand. He had not gotten fully into the swing of school and, except for playing his new chemistry teacher and football, he did nct know if he really wanted to.
Maybe he should scratch Miss Williams, too. Like she was a teaser. She knew he had given her the business from the first moment he had walked into the class last Monday. He had not expected her to turn on, openly at least, when he gave her the meaning eye. He had expected her to act mad and, sure enough, she had come right back with that crack about grades and football.
But then she had given him that straight look at her legs when she sat down. He still carried the vivid memory of sleek hose and white, soft, rounded flesh above them, columning and disappearing into that nest of white lace and blue silk. Like she didn't know what she was doing. And then that board across the kneehole of the desk all the rest of the week.
She made Clair Engels look young and raw and awkward. The comparison, too, bothered Bill. If he had any sense, he would forget Miss Williams and stick with Clair. But he could not and, because of this inability, he had become critical of Clair. His attitude had almost led to a fight and a breakup night before last.
To make peace, Bill had picked her up tonight and taken her to the picture show. Now he slumped in his seat, glaring at the screen and wishing both he and Clair had stayed home. Better stuff on television and it was free. And Clair had told him she could not go to Nick's because it was the wrong time. She had been cross all evening and slapped his hand away when he had fooled around a little. Now he miserably waited for the picture and the evening to end.
After the show he took her to the malt shop. She was still cross when they took a booth. He saw Joyce James with a bunch of girls and remembered Hal had to work tonight. Joyce smiled, waved and he waved back while Clair smiled.
But the moment they sat down, Clair's smile vanished. "Let Hal look the other way and Joyce is on the make."
"Oh, I don't know-"
"I do. I ought to, I guess. She's one of my chums."
Bill stared at her, trying to understand this bit of female logic. Clair flushed and her eyes flashed.
"I notice she's making eyes at you."
"For gosh sake. She just smiled. She runs around with Hal, don't she?"
"And he's gone so she picks you."
"Cool it," Bill growled.
"Like that chemistry teacher you're always raving about."
"Lay off, baby. I just said she was pretty and she is."
"Oh, I see," Clair said with elaborate sarcasm. "She's just pretty. But you've said so a dozen times this week and I'm tired of hearing it."
"Okay, forget it."
She glared. "I notice she did put you in charge of lab supplies. You did tell me that, didn't you?"
Bill grunted and sought escape. "Jukebox?"
He fled to the machine before she could object. Joyce stood near the player, he realized, and he almost returned to the booth. Then he squared his shoulders and went on. Joyce gave him an over the shoulder smile and bent to read the selector slips as he came up. Her dress fell away from her body and he looked down the dark cleavage between the white mounds.
"I like that one."
She pointed. He saw the label-Lei's Play, Chum. Joyce avoided looking at him but he could read the little smile at the corner of her lips. He thought of Clair and the hard time she had given him all evening-and things would go no better when he returned to the booth.
"Suit yourself-your dime," he said loudly. He shot the words under his breath. "Give me half an hour-Gray's Store."
He turned and saw Clair suspiciously watching him and Joyce. He went back to his seat. Clair studied him. Music blared suddenly. The record was not Let's Play....
Clair watched Joyce return to her girl friends and sniffed audibly.
Bill said nothing. He waited out the minutes. Finally Clair stood up without a word and Bill walked with her out to his car. They drove away in silence and he took her directly home. At the door, he turned her around. She stiffened but finally gave in a little to his ardent kiss.
She clung to him a moment. "I'm awful, Bill."
"You'll feel better tomorrow, maybe."
"Yes."
"A date tomorrow night?"
"Mmmm-hmmm."
He kissed her again and walked to his car. He drove off, heading back to town. He checked his watch and stopped at a pay phone. Clair answered the call.
"Honey, I just got home. Sure you feel all right?"
"Of course-oh, it's that thing. I love you for calling, Bill."
"Love you, baby. I'd better get to bed before I wake the folks. 'Night, now."
He hung up and gripped at the instrument. A few moments later he rolled to the curb in front of Gray's Store. A dark slim figure was waiting for him. Joyce jumped in when he reached across and swung open the door. She did not bother to adjust skirts that had lifted well above her knees. Bill tooled away, turned on a dark street, drove several blocks and pulled to the curb.
Without a word, Joyce came into his arms, holding him close against her straining, arched body as her lips moved under his. His free hand dropped to her bare knee and slowly traveled up under her skirt, fingers stroking the soft skin. He touched lace and her hand dropped to his, stopping any further move. They held the kiss for a long moment before Joyce wrenched her lips free.
Bill straightened with an explosive exhalation. In the faint light he caught the pleased flash of her smile. He turned the ignition, started the motor, turned again to her.
"When do you have to be home?"
"Mother went with dad to St. Louis. Grandma's staying with me."
"Pretty sharp old lady?"
"Not very. Hard of hearing and ready to go to bed when I left with the girls for the malt shop."
Bill studied her, a smile beginning to form on his lips. He had always wondered about Joyce, the way she gave him the eye and the way she would talk and act big with Hal but would always pull out when the bunch decided on a real bash. A tease? Or was it that the right man was not with her?
Now was the perfect time to find out, the way the evening had shaped up.
His grin widened. "Well, then, let's five a little."
He rolled away from the curb and turned on the lights. She snuggled against him. "Where are we going?"
"Funsville, baby. Okay?"
She nodded and her fingers tightened around his arm.
He avoided the main street as he drove out of town, making a wide circle around the filling station where Hal worked. Soon he sped along the dark highway westward. Joyce tensed briefly, sitting ramrod erect, and he knew she realized where he headed. He braced for a protest but, after a second or two, she relaxed against his shoulder. He increased the speed of the car.
The wink of neon appeared far ahead, grew larger as the car sped toward it. The low shape of the main building and the motel court became distinct. Bill slowed and glanced at Joyce. She had straightened again and was staring toward the Corners, lips slightly parted and her eyes wide. Girlish but full breasts rose and fell with erratic breathing.
The car's light swept over the low building as Bill swung into the parking area. Not many cars were parked in the shadows. He stopped, cut the motor and the night's silence seemed to drop down on them like a weight.
Joyce slowly looked at him, moistened her lips. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him. His hand smoothed over her breasts as he kissed her and she pushed them deeper into his palm. He felt her tremble.
He straightened, reached for the door. She checked him and indicated the cars. "Suppose someone sees us and word gets to Hal or Clair."
"We play it cool. Stay here until I know who's made the scene."
He felt her eyes on him as he walked to the door and went in.
Joyce waited the long moments, fearful and yet eager to plunge into the evening. For more than a year she had been wanting just such a night as this and now her body cried out for the experience she anticipated. Her breasts tightened as her imagination ran riot.
With Bill she would know no awkward rumblings such as she had experienced with Hal. She had allowed Hal to play around but no more. She had always drawn back at the last moment.
She considered Hal a boy and she wanted her first irrevocable giving to be to a man. Some deep instinct in her demanded that her first venture into sex be complete and perfect. Bill Collins was a man in experience, though she knew that he was barely a year older than Hal. But she could tell. She had had hints from Clair, who made sly, boastful allusions now and then. Also, Bill had had other girls.
Joyce felt a touch of fear. Yet desire swept from her thighs and stomach over her body. She wanted to run. She wanted Bill to hurry back. She longed to feel his hands upon her.
She started slightly when the tavern door opened again and music blasted out. Bill came to the car, looked in at her, grinning.
"Just one guy in there I know-plays quarterback on another school team. Let's have fun."
He opened the door. Joyce hesitated. This was the moment of decision. She looked at the dark building and back at Bill. He waited, a crooked grin on his lips as though he sensed her racing thoughts and inwardly laughed at her for not being fully a woman. Her chin firmed and she whipped about on the seat, extending her leg to the ground.
Her skirt slipped high up on her thighs. Bill suddenly stepped close to her, blocking her further progress. He looked down at her exposed legs and then deep into her eyes. He bent to her and she lifted her lips to his kiss. As his mouth touched hers his hands moved gently along her legs, up over her hips. She could not control the spasm that swept through her. His hands clasped her about the waist and he stepped back, pulled her to her feet and turned her toward the building.
Joyce looked curiously and fearfully about her as she entered the place. She had heard about the Corners, knew that Hal himself had been here. But never with her. Until tonight no urgency had brought her here. Now a need strode beside her down the aisle between booths and bar-its name was Bill, whose hand held hers.
A big man with swarthy features stepped up to the booth when she and Bill sat down. Joyce heard a girl's quick laughter from a dark booth in the rear of the room. She looked fearfully up as the big man leaned on the booth table, glanced at her and then turned to Bill.
"Whafll it be?"
Bill said knowingly, "A special soft drink, Nick, for me and the lady."
"That all?"
"Well, my uncle and aunt want a cabin." Nick's voice was a growl. "Maybe I ain't got one tonight."
"Come off it, Nick. You've always got one." Bill placed money on the table. "They'd like a little bottle."
Nick straightened. "I'll think about it while I get your special soda pop."
He lumbered away to the bar and Bill frowned after him, then down at the money Nick had not touched. Nick returned with tumblers filled with a dark liquid. He placed them before Bill and Joyce, indicated her with a thick thumb. "I ain't seen this one before."
"New chick."
"From your town?"
Bill frowned. "Where else?"
Nick dropped into the seat beside Bill and his voice dropped to a murmur. "You hear I had visitors last week? So tell the bunch to stay away for a while."
"Word came my way," Bill admitted. "But I can't tell anyone what to do."
"Don't kid Nick. You come here, that bunch comes here. You whistle, they jump. You're the boss, kid. So tell them to stay away until things cool. That man and woman that came here last week-in ten minutes the joint was empty." He snapped thick fingers. "Even the motel."
Bill understood. "So that's why you played it close with me tonight. Afraid?"
"Careful," Nick corrected, "until I know. Who were those two?"
"One was a new teacher, I know that." Bill looked at Joyce. "Mabel Corey's boy friend said she asked Mabel some questions in school-"
"The girl told her everything about this place?"
"Mabel said she'd never been here. The teacher dropped it and there hasn't been any talk since. There won't be."
"How do you know? She's a teacher, ain't she?"
Bill grinned. "That's right-and I'm getting to her, pal. She's fighting but losing. Don't worry about her."
Nick studied Bill, tugged at his heavy hp. "How about the man?"
"I don't know who he was. Forget it, Nick. Things'll cool off."
Nick grunted, stood up and leaned over the table again. "Sure they will. Until then, I don't want to run the risk of a raid."
"You're over the county line."
"Sure, but-"
"And like I said, I'm getting next to that teacher. Shell tip me off if you're headed for trouble. And I'll tip you."
"You're damn' sure of yourself, ain't you?"
"Why not? Besides, my old man'd let something drop at home if the town started after you. Relax, Nick." Nick straightened. "Okay."
Bill grinned. "How about my uncle and aunt?"
Nick made a gesture around the empty room. "I'm busy. You take care of them, eh?"
He walked away. Joyce looked fearfully and questioningly at Bill and sipped her drink. It was a coke but a strange, harsh flavor underlay its sweetness. She felt a subtle warmth steal through her body. Bill urged her to drink more and she did. The colored jukebox lights grew softer and more pleasing and the shadowy room became less fearful. She looked across the booth at Bill again.
She saw him through a new, strange mist that made him more rugged and masculine. She wanted him to kiss her, wanted to feel his hands upon her. The desire made her lips part and her eyes grow misty.
"How about it? ready to go?"
It was so nice here, she thought. She liked the way blurred objects in the big room became clear and sharp and then sort of floated, blurred again. Like Bill-one moment his face was indistinct and the next she could see those firm lips and beautiful, gleaming eyes upon her.
"Mmmm-what'll we do?"
"What would you like to do?" She giggled. "Kiss you."
"Then come on."
The night was wonderful, too, with bright stars that sort of jigged a little. But Bill's arm felt good about her and the walk to the little house was fun and no trouble at all. Then they stood close together inside and she swayed into his arms.
His touch-how different! Now all her sensations seemed to center in her thighs and stomach, making her weak with a desire more powerful than she had ever known before. Her lips clung to his and she knew only vaguely that Bill moved her across the room and thrust her down onto a bed.
Some kind of warning flashed through her hazy mind but vanished as Bill worked her loose blouse down over her shoulders and his lips pressed against the warm, bare flesh of her breasts. She felt more free than she ever had and moaned as she pressed his head tightly to her bosom.
She fell back and in sensuous pleasure felt his hands move over her. Her dress was in the way and she struggled out of it and the loose-hanging brassiere. She felt Bill's impatient hands at her waist and arched her body. A moment later, she glimpsed silk and lace disappearing over the side of the bed.
Her eyes focused and she saw him bending over her. She saw the play and ripple of muscles along his bare shoulders, the square, muscular shape of his chest. A man, she thought through a wave of driving desire. Then he lay beside her and fiercely pulled her to him. Nakedness touched nakedness and she became aware of his strength. His hands and lips moved over her, driving her frantic.
Then she felt his weight. His hands moved. She cried out at a sharp pain.
Her breath sucked in with an ecstatic gasp the next instant. She had known that this was the way it was meant to be. He filled her with desire and her young, wanton body, without direction from her brain, moved to his rhythm and demanded more and more. She heard her own voice as if from a distance, strange with passion-filled moans.
Thought swept into darkness and she knew only the driving feel of passion and her frantic response. Waves of feeling swept over her and she was carried out into a wonderful, swooning sea of sensation. There was nothing else.