River James (Rockers Of Steel #3) - MJ Fields Page 0,1

and she had on knock-off Ugg boots and a Buckeye hoodie, the same shit every girl in this hell hole of a town wore. She was totally townie, but hot as hell.

Her long, strawberry-blonde hair hung to her waist in ringlets, but not the kind of ringlets that came from a salon; that was all her. She had big green eyes and pale skin. She also had a round ass and the biggest tits I had ever laid eyes on when it came to a frame that size. She had curves for days—hell, weeks and months … could have been years…

I was at Roundy’s place. He was a friend of Steps, my cousin, who was three years older than me. I was sixteen years old and hanging out in a trailer in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, getting fucking high for the first time in my life.

She looked at her friend and then around the smoke-filled room. She appeared to be nervous and immediately asked for the bathroom. I probably should have warned her that she should take her chances out in the woods with the poison ivy instead of going in to that shit hole, but I was high, and the words didn’t form quickly enough.

When she came out, the bowl was being passed around, and she reached for it. Roundy looked at her, nodded, and she hit it hard several times. After a killer coughing fit, she sat down between her friend Tom-Tom and me, looked at me, and nodded with no smile on her face, not even in her eyes.

At the time, it made me laugh. I mean, what the fuck did a girl who looked like that have to be so pissed off about?

“Aw, you’ve got jokes,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I’ve got jokes for days, red.” I winked.

“Not interested in days,” she muttered, taking the bowl. “Just moments.” Then she hit it.

I smirked. “If I can make you laugh, Joker, you’ve gotta give me something.”

Tom-Tom leaned forward. “If you can make her laugh, I’ll give you a blow job.”

“It’s on, then,” I said to Tom-Tom, a girl I already knew, but winked at the girl who now looked annoyed.

It didn’t take long. Being high probably helped.

When she smiled, I leaned forward then nodded expectantly to Tom-Tom, and Jesse looked annoyed.

“What?” I asked her, still laughing.

“Her or me,” she said, standing up and crossing her arms while glaring down at me.

I looked over at Tom-Tom, and she shrugged.

I stood. “You.”

That night, we had a moment. It was the first of so many things: blow job, finger banging, and getting high. She was skilled. I was not. I kind of blew it fast, but she only shrugged then started again.

The next day, we got high and fucked, and the condom broke. It didn’t matter to me; I wasn’t worried one bit. I was just happy as fuck when she lay back down and cuddled up against me with a smile—an almost smile—on her face. We fell asleep, looking at each other.

We woke up to Tom-Tom yelling that the Whites were there for her.

She jumped up, threw on her jean skirt and hoodie, and then took off out the back.

When I finally got up and dressed, I looked out the door to see a large man carrying her, kicking and screaming, toward a van. I started out because shit didn’t look right to me, but Tom-Tom held her hand in front of me.

“They’re her foster family. She ran away.”

A tall kid got out of the van, pulled his beanie down, and then held the door open for her. I couldn’t get a good look at him. Then I really didn’t want to when she dove into his arms and cried.

“That’s her boyfriend.”

“Her, what?” I asked Tom-Tom in shock.

“The guy she was running from.”

“Well, why the fuck—”

“That’s how she is, River. It makes no sense.” She shakes her head.

It made no sense to me, either. She had been running from him, and now she was running to him. I was a little pissed off, jealous maybe. I didn’t need to feel that shit, so I went inside and got a little more fucked up.

Two days later, she showed up again. I woke up to her hand down my shorts and her telling me to make her laugh. She was jerking me off, and I was telling her jokes. Fucked up as hell, but then, when she smiled, rolled a condom on me, and mounted me, fucked up met don’t