But it had been Lucas Yamhill, a tall, good-looking boy who had nearly convinced her. He was a freshman in high school but hung out with younger kids sometimes. His dad owned the local grocery store and another one in the next town south of San Leandro. “Come on, show us your titties. Ten bucks can buy a lot.”
She’d wanted to do it. Just to show creepy Brent and Ian that she wasn’t afraid and because she wanted to impress Lucas. She would have loved to have flashed Lucas. Why not? And it was worth ten dollars.
So she had. Right there in that hot, tight closet, she’d lifted her T-shirt, tugged it over her head and let it drop onto the painted cement floor.
Brent whistled through his teeth.
With a flourish, she’d tossed her hair like the models in those shampoo commercials did and it swung free to her shoulders, then didn’t move. Her cleavage was visible. That was enough.
“Hey, no fair. You’re wearing a bra!” Ian complained, feeling cheated.
“That’s right,” Brent agreed when he realized he’d been tricked. “I’m not payin’ to see that. I’ve seen my sister parading around in her bra plenty of times.”
Lucas’s evil leer caused a tingle to race through her blood. “I’ll make it twenty if you let me take that off you.”
“Twenty-five,” she said sassily, beginning to perspire. “And not with those two watching.”
“For twenty-five and a private viewing, I want to touch.” His eyes, when they looked at her, had darkened from light brown to nearly black and there was another signal in his murky gaze. “I want to touch all of you.”
She felt a palpitation between her legs and a flutter of her heart. A billion butterflies took flight in her stomach. “Lose them,” she said about Ian and Brent.
“No way. I paid three bucks!” Ian folded his beefy arms over his chest, but Lucas was older and had convinced the others to scram.
Lucas closed the door behind them. The lock clicked into place. Kylie could barely breathe. Slowly Lucas removed two ten dollar bills and a five and placed them on top of an overturned bucket, smoothing the bills flat. He also pulled out a thin foil packet—one that held a condom—and set it on top. “I’ll double it if you strip naked.”
“I—I don’t know.”
“And I’ll give you a hundred if you let me—you know. Touch you.”
“Touch me?”
“Yeah.” His voice lowered. “You know what I’m talking about.”
She bit her lip. Shook her head. It was hard to breathe. But she was starting to understand . . . and it scared her.
“Have you ever seen a guy?”
“No.”
“I could show you,” he offered.
“Would I have to pay?”
His laugh had a dirty ring to it. “Nah. I’d like to touch you with it.” He was a big boy, a year older than his classmates, nearly fifteen. Almost old enough to drive. She swallowed hard. She was curious and she liked Lucas. He was popular. Athletic. Rich. “We could . . . you know . . . get it on,” he suggested silkily.
“No!”
“I thought you’d do anything for money.” Lucas traced the slope of her jaw and went lower down her neck.
She batted his hand away. “Not that.”
“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered.
She thought of the money and of Ian and Brent probably listening on the other side of the door, their ears and eyes pressed to the keyhole. A sick feeling swept over her.
There was something in Lucas’s eyes that scared her. Something that tempted her. Something that caused her to breathe a little shallower and her blood to pound in her eardrums.
Her mother’s warnings echoed through her brain. “Don’t let any boy get into your pants, Kylie. They’ll just use you,” Dolly had told her. “You could catch something filthy or find yourself in big trouble. I’m way too young to be a grandma!”