by Hannah Ford
He kissed me, his tongue in my mouth, his hands in my hair, the two of us tangling together.
When he pulled away, his dark eyes were a raging storm, and there was no more indecision there, no more struggling with whether or not what he was about to do was right.
Instead, he led me to his bedroom.
Once we were there, he kissed me again, his hands snaking down to my ass and lifting me up and then throwing me down onto his bed.
He stripped off his t-shirt and my body flooded with overwhelming desire as I looked at him, every muscle sculpted, his abs washboard perfect.
And then he came to me, his hands sliding up my shirt, tugging it off, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling those off too, leaving me in just my bra and panties.
“God, you are so fucking sexy, baby,” he breathed. He was on top of me completely now, straddling me around the waist, his strong thighs pinning me down. He tugged the cups of my bra down until my tits popped out, his index finger tracing the hard peaks and causing me to gasp.
“Take my dick out, baby.”
I reached up and undid his jeans, pulling down the waistband of his boxers and letting his hard cock out.
“Good girl. “ He took my hand in his and placed it on his dick, showing me how to stroke him, how to make him feel good. I liked the way he felt in my hand, hard and thick.
“Like that?” I whispered. It wasn’t completely dark in his room, but the light was off, and I was thankful he couldn’t see the blush on my cheeks
“Just like that, Olivia. Good girl, baby, stroke my cock just like that.”
His words and the feel of his dick in my hand set me on fire, making me so hot I felt like I was boiling from the inside out.
Colt pulled me up toward him and kissed me while I stroked him, his tongue taking me, owning me, claiming me, making me forget that anything existed except for him and this moment.
He reached around and unhooked my bra, letting my breasts spill out of their cups completely and sucking my nipples into his mouth as I stroked him. I gasped as his lips and tongue pulled me into his mouth, the fiery inferno that burned through my body taking up residence wherever he touched, sucked, pushed.
He stripped off his jeans and boxers and then laid his body on top of mine, his broad shoulders and ripped pecs covering me like a blanket. I could feel his cock right on the outside of my panties and I wanted him inside of me, wanting to feel that push/pull as he entered me.
“Fuck me,” I begged.
He gave me a cocky grin, his hand skating down the side of body until he got to my hip, his grip tightening around my waist as he pulled me into him and held me close against him, the only thing separating his hard shaft from my pussy the thin material of my panties.
“You want my dick, baby?” he demanded.
I nodded and tried to arch against him, but his hand stayed firm, not letting me move, showing me he was in total control. Then he rolled me over until I was on top of him and his hands found my shoulders and he pushed me down, down past his chest and to his hips.
He took my hand and put it on his dick, then took the head of his cock and brushed it over my lips.
“I’ve never…”
“It’s okay, baby,” he said. “I’ll show you.”
He pushed the tip of his dick into my mouth, and the taste of him was foreign and unfamiliar, and I wasn’t sure if I liked it, but then Colt groaned and the sight of him leaning back, his body so built and perfect, the clench of his abs as I took him in my mouth flooded me with desire.
He reached down and held my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine as my other hand stroked him further into my mouth.
“Fuck, that feels good.” He was watching me, and I locked my eyes on his, taking him into me, sucking him all the way down until the head of his cock hit the back of my throat. “Good girl, baby, there you go. Take that whole fucking dick.”
I did it, even though he was so big I wasn’t sure I could, but I got him all the way down my throat, and he moaned again and I loved that I was turning him on. I sucked him like that for a while, stroking and sucking, getting into a nice rhythm as my lips and hands and mouth served to pleasure him.
And then suddenly, he was flipping me over and his hand was pulling at my panties and he slid them off and then he was between my legs and on top of me, holding himself up over me, his biceps and triceps taut and tone. I reached up and felt his chest, running my hands over the smooth muscles, so strong, so safe.
“Okay?” he whispered gruffly.
I nodded, and then he pushed inside of me, and I felt that familiar resistance, the same resistance I’d felt earlier when he’d taken my virginity, and then he was pushing past it, his hips pivoting as he began to fuck me.
I groaned and arched my back, and he took my nipple into his mouth, sucking it softly and then letting it go. He reached down and grabbed my leg, pulled it up around his hip, pushing deeper into me and making me take it.
“Your pussy is still so tight, baby. I need to break you in more.” And then he thrust into me harder and deeper, so hard my tits started to bounce and so deep I could feel his balls hitting my ass.
He fucked me, pushing into me, holding my hip with his big hand, his finger skating over my clit while he fucked me with his thick cock.
And then I was coming, my pussy clenching around him as spasms of ecstasy ricocheted through my body.
“Fuck, Olivia,” he groaned, and then he was coming too, and I could feel him filling me with his seed, and it made my orgasm that much more intense and shattered me from the inside out.
He fell onto my body as continued to pump his cum into me, grabbing my hair and twisting it in his hands as he thrust into me, harder and harder, until he was done.
I ran my hands down his back and closed my eyes tight.
We laid there for a moment, not saying anything, letting our breathing slow and our heart rates return to normal.
I shivered, not from cold but from the thought of what we’d just did, but Colt must have thought I was cold, because he lifted up the comforter on his bed and motioned me to get underneath.
I slid under the blanket and he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. I laid my head on his chest, and his fingers tangled in my hair.
“You okay?” he asked again.
“Yes.”
He pulled back and looked at me, tipping my chin up so that I was forced to look him right in the eye. “You sure? I know that was intense.”
“I like intense,” I said, keeping my eyes on his. He must have seen something there, reflected in my eyes. It might have been the closeness I was feeling toward him or the fact that even though it made absolutely no sense, I felt safer with him than I’d ever felt with anyone.
“Olivia…” He looked away and trailed off, but I knew what he had been about to say – that I shouldn’t start getting attached to him, that what had just happened between us didn’t mean anything. “Listen, I know you want –”
“Please,” I said and turned over in bed, shoving my hands under the pillow and squeezing my eyes shut. “Please, I don’t… you don’t have to say it.”
I was disappointed. For a second it occurred to me that maybe what I was feeling was just residual disappointment leftover from what had happened with Declan, that maybe I’d just transferred how I was feeling about him onto Colt.
But my heart knew it wasn’t like that.
The Declan disappointment was the kind of dull disappointment you experienced when you’d lost something that wasn’t really yours to begin with, the kind of disappointment that faded quickly because it wasn’t based on anything real.
This new disappointment, it was real. It cut. It burned. It rubbed me raw from the inside out. The whole time I’d been with Declan, all I could think about was Colt. How much I missed him. How much I wanted him.
And now that we’d had sex again, I wanted him even more.
It made no sense. I hadn’t known him that long.
; He had secrets and damaged spots inside of him just like I did. And yet for some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was falling in love with him.
And it felt real.
Colt threw the covers back and began getting out of bed. “Don’t do this, Olivia.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t put your shit with Declan onto me.”
“That’s what you think I’m doing?”
“Yes, Olivia, that’s exactly what I think you’re doing. You’re acting like I hurt you, when really the person you’re upset about is Declan.”
I sat up in bed and gathered the sheets around me angrily. My first instinct was to run away, to leave this room, this apartment, to find somewhere to cut myself and then return to the shelter and never look back.
But something was pushing me not to do that, was pushing me to actually try to feel my emotions, to try and express them instead of running away.
“Did you ever stop and think that maybe this isn’t about Declan?” I demanded. “That maybe I went to see Declan and all I could think about was you? That maybe what we did just now, what we did earlier, actually meant something to me?”
Colt was getting dressed, and he zipped his jeans and then grabbed his shirt off the floor. “You’re too smart for that.”
“Too smart for what?”
“To let this mean something to you.” He started to pull his shirt on, but I stood up and grabbed his arm.
“Why?” I said. “Why, Colt? Why would you say something like that?”
“Forget it.” He went to wrench out of my grasp, but I held onto him.
“Colt.”
He turned, his dark eyes locking on mine.
“Why?” I pressed. “Why would I be too smart to let this mean something to me?”
“Olivia, don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t push me like this. I warned you. I told you I wasn’t the guy for you.” Hot tears pricked my eyes and for a moment, I wondered if maybe he was right, if maybe I’d been stupid enough to do the exact same thing with Colt that I’d done with Declan, if I’d pinned all my hopes on him instead of protecting myself.
It felt different, but was that just because I’d slept with him?
It didn’t matter, I told myself.
Cold had made it clear how he felt.
And one thing I was smart enough to realize was when someone didn’t want me.
I turned away and began gathering my clothes.
Colt sighed. “Olivia.”
But I didn’t answer.
“Olivia,” he said again, louder this time.
“It’s fine,” I said, and now my walls were back up. “I heard you loud and clear.”
“Olivia, stop.” He reached out and took my hand and he whirled me around, pulling me toward him until my bare breasts were flush against his chest. “You said it yourself, Olivia,” he whispered.
I loved the way he said my name, making it sound exotic and wonderful on his lips, like I was the only one in the world with that name. “What?” I asked, confused. “What did I say, Colt?”
He pulled me toward him even tighter, his hand on the small of my back, and I could feel his nails digging into my skin, almost like he was afraid I was going to get away.
“You said I was wasting my life working at the club.”
“What?” I asked, confused. “No, I didn’t.” And then I remembered that I had, or at least a version of that. I think you’re better than that.
“You did.” He looked away from me then, but not before I could see the pain reflected in his eyes. “But what you were wrong about, Olivia, is when you said I was too good for that place. I’m not too good for it. And that is why I’m not the right man for you.”
His nails pressed deeper into my skin, and I could feel the desperation rushing through him, like he was terrified that whatever he was about to say would make me run. But I’d never wanted to stay in one place more in my entire life than I did right then, with him.
“Why would you say that?” I whispered. “Why would you say that about yourself?”
He shook his head and my breath hitched as I waited for him to answer. “It doesn’t matter.” He released me then and sat down on the side of the bed, put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples.
I went and sat next to him. “It matters to me.”
He stayed silent, broody, and I was afraid if I didn’t get him talking soon, he would shut down completely.
“Colt,” I said. “Please, what… I just want to understand.”
I reached out and took his hand, intertwining my fingers with his. He flinched and tried to move away, but I kept my hand on his, not letting him. I knew all about pushing people away and I knew that sometimes those were the times you wanted and needed to connect the most.
Colt took a deep breath and I felt his fingers tighten around mine. When he began to talk, his voice was deep and controlled. “My dad, he bought Loose Cannons before I was even born, with money he borrowed. He had to go down to the bank and beg for a loan. It was his dream, though, to own a restaurant. And it was a restaurant, back in the day.” He paused and I could see the pain on his face, more intense than it had been even just a few minutes ago. “But then my parents died. Half of the restaurant was left to me, when I turned twenty-three, and half was left to my uncle.”
“And what? Your uncle turned it into a strip club?”
“No, Olivia, he turned it into a fucking prostitution ring and a drug den.” I could hear the anger in his voice as he spoke, and I sucked in a breath. “I knew it was wrong, even when I was growing up, you know? Even when I was a teenager, I knew it was… not right, what they were doing. But if I brought it up or tried to push back, they beat me.”
“Your uncle?”
“My uncle. His friends. Whoever.”
I closed my eyes and let his words wash over me. I wasn’t going to say I was sorry that happened to him, because words like that were hollow and shallow and meant nothing. I hated when people told me they were sorry about what had happened to me, like they had something to do with it. All they really meant was that they were glad it hadn’t happened to them.
“So now you know,” he said. “Now you know that those things the FBI agent said were true, that there are drugs and prostitution and probably all kinds of other shit going. And that, Olivia, is why you should stay the hell away from me.”
“Why?” I swallowed and then I said the thing people always said to me, the thing that was the hardest to believe. “You were a kid, Colt, it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have stopped it.”
“I could have tried harder.”
“And got beat more?” I shook my head. “No. You were a child, a teenager, what happened to your dad’s club…it’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault but your uncle’s.”
“Anyway,” Colt said, and his eyes were glassy now as he stared at the floor. “Call that FBI agent, Olivia. Tell him you’ll work with him.”
“Colt,” I said, and my voice cracked.
He turned to look at me. “What?” The pain in his eyes was so raw, so dark, so aching. I’d never seen anything like it, and I’d seen more than my share of pain in my life.
“You can make it right.”
His shoulders sagged and his eyes were still welling with emotion, and it was the first time I’d seen him like this, the first time I’d seen him looking like he was anything but completely in control. His normal cockiness and easy arrogance were gone, replaced with a tremulous vulnerability.
He reached for me, pulled me toward him and back down onto the bed, his mouth on mine, kissing me, slower this time, but with that same hungry intensity.
He wrapped me back up in the blanket, our legs intertwining under the covers.
We were silent for a long time, and I thought he’d fallen asleep.
But then he spoke. “You’re right,” he said softly.
“What?”
“Ab
out making it right. I’m going to put a stop to it.”
My head was against his chest, and I could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, and I knew he was telling the truth.
I wanted to tell him I would be right there with him, that I would stand by him, that I would help him and support him in whatever way I could.
It made no sense to make a promise like that. And yet I had never meant anything more in my life.
But I was afraid he would tell me no, that he would refuse, that he would tell me I needed to stay away from him again.
So I stayed quiet.
A moment later, he was asleep, and after a while, so was I.
* * *
Colt held me tight through the night.
I stirred once at around 3 am, and he woke up, too, and kissed me softly on the lips. “You okay, baby?” he murmured, his voice heavy with sleep.
I nodded and he pulled me even closer. I snuggled into him, and I’d never felt so safe in my life. The only reason I even woke up in the first place was because I couldn’t believe the way I felt. It was so foreign to me, this feeling of peace – it seemed as if my body wanted to keep waking me up just to make sure it was still there.
In the morning, he was gone.
There was a note on the bedside table.
At the gym. ~C
I got out of bed, then showered quickly and dressed in a pair of jeans and a black V-neck sweater that Kendra the housekeeper had picked out for me.
Then I went to the living room and sat down.
It was weird being in the apartment alone, without Colt, and the safe feeling I’d had last night felt suddenly precarious, as if it could be yanked away from me at any moment.
My body was wired with nervous energy, and the silence was setting me on edge. I was just about to turn on the tv when Colt came back.
He had that sexy slightly sweaty thing going on that guys got after they went to the gym– the messy hair, the muscles seemingly more defined even though you knew that was impossible after just one work out.
“Hi,” I said, suddenly inexplicably nervous.