“I guess you should have.”
She’s never looked sexier. I don’t know what it is tonight, but she looks even hotter than she normally does. Maybe it’s the lighting, or the mood I’m in, or maybe I’ve just never fully seen her before. As I stare at her my cock starts to stiffen, and even though I know that words need to be said, food and drink need to be consumed, and all the rules of etiquette need to be adhered to, I also know that all I really want to do is fuck the shit out of her right now. I have a fantasy in my head that I want to play out, even though I know that it can’t.
This time I want it to be my turn to get up from my chair, and when I do I walk around to her side of the table. Unlike what she did to me, however, there’ll be no kissing right now. I’ll walk behind her, putting my hands firmly on her shoulders to keep her under my control. It’s only when I’m fully shadowing her back that I’ll move my hands under her arms to raise her up from her seat. She still won’t be allowed to turn around, and when she tries she feels the strength of my hand holding her where I want her, followed by the pressure of one hand on the small of her back, pushing her torso down towards the table.
She’ll put her hands down to stop the momentum, of course, and once she does I’ll hold her in place once again, letting her know that there’s no getting up just yet until I have what I want. She won’t really want to fight. She’ll pretend, offering some show of resistance, but when she turns her head slightly to look at me I’ll see the smile on her face, the satisfaction at knowing that I’m taking charge in a way that we both want to happen. With my right hand I’ll reach down to the hem of her dress, and grip it as hard as I can. She’ll know what’s about to happen, and I’ll know that underneath that dress she’s near soaked through her panties in anticipation.
I pull the dress up, hard, and as I do I see her apple bottom ass staring at me, tempting me, calling out to me. I leave the gathered material of her dress falling to the side and take a long, hard look at her. I position one of my legs between hers to spread her open, which she does without resistance. My cock is about to explode, and I can feel the press of it against the front of my pants. With that same hand that tossed her dress to the side like so much garbage, I reach down once more, following the contours of her ass from top to bottom. When I get there I move my hand an inch over and invert it, extending my middle finger to find her moist pussy. It’s so wet that I can feel it through her underwear. I brush her thin, wet panties to the side and guide my finger inside of her. My finger slides in with no resistance, and I hear her gasp for air as she raises her head. I keep the pressure on her back, letting her know that there’s no getting up unless I want her to.
Once I’m inside her I move my finger in and out repeatedly, then up and down, stopping at her throbbing clit to rub around in small, firm circles. I can hear the passionate noises that she’s making, so I guide my finger even further inside of her, this time with some force, and she gasps the loudest that she has yet. I love feeling the inside of her, of knowing how deep I am, and how good she feels. My fingers are drenched in her juices, and I use them to rub around her entire pussy, stopping again at her clit to bring her as close to orgasm as I can right now.
I love teasing her, and I start to rub in firmer circles, then up and down in small motions on her clit, all the while knowing that she wants to come for me if only I’d let her. I try to read her body, which is starting to both be very still and tremble at the same time. I know she’s close, so I stop moving and put my finger back in her and drape my back over hers. “You’re not allowed to come yet, Harley. I’m not ready for you to come. I have so much more for you.”
I whisper all of this into her ear before undoing my pants to release my hard, gigantic cock. I open the fly of my pants and pull him out. All the women I’ve been with tell me how big it is, how much it fills them up, and Harley is about to feel its power. I let go of her back because I know I have her. She has no reason to move because she wants what’s about to happen as much as I do—maybe even more. With my hands I spread her wide open, exposing the pink on the inside of her dripping cunt, and once she’s open I press my head inside her. She gasps for a third time, and this one is the most passionate. I can tell she’s never felt something like this before—never felt something like me.
I tease my head just inside of her pussy, pushing it slightly forward, then stopping. I want her to ask for it. I want her to beg for it. I push a little further inside, but not nearly as far as I can go, and stop once more. I reach underneath with my other hand and start exercising her clit once again. She starts moaning unapologetically now and I know that I have her. I want to hear the words, and until I do this is all of me that she’s going to get. I lean over her back once again and whisper in her ear, “What do you want? Tell me.”
“I want your cock, Colton. Give me all of it right fucking now!”
That’s all I need to hear. Before the last syllable has left her mouth, I shove the full length of my dick inside of her, thrusting my hips forward so that I move her entire body against the table. She screams in pleasure, but before she has time to recover my hands are on my her hips and I’m fucking her mercilessly. I slide in and out of her so easily that I have to reposition myself a few times. I take it as a compliment that she’s so fucking wet. I move an inch closer and now my whole body is between her legs. I hold onto her hips like a vice and start giving her every inch of me, faster and faster until the sounds of my balls bouncing against her ass are the only sounds in the room other than her screams. She finally arches her back—she just can’t keep still any longer. “You’re so fucking big, Colton. I can feel you all the way inside of me.”
I know she can. I know how deep I am, and I know she’s never experienced anything like she’s experiencing right now. It only encourages me, so I go even faster—so fast that everything on the table shakes to the ground with the impact I’m causing, and all she can do is hold onto the edges to keep her balance. I know that I’m hitting all of the right spots, and when I reach down again to rub her clit, I know it won’t take long from there. I rub for only a few seconds when she tells me that she’s there.
“I want you to come all over my hard dick. I want to feel you squeeze me as you do.”
As soon as I tell her to come, she comes—hard. Her whole body trembles and I feel the constriction of her pussy clamping down on me. “Oh, fuck!” she yells. A few seconds later it’s over and her body relaxes again, only I’m not done yet. I need to have my moment too, and I want her to experience the act of making me come like I made her cum.
“Turn around,” I tell her. “I’m not done with you yet.”
She turns around, an exhausted and satisfied smile adorning her face. Now I kiss her, but only for a second. My hardness presses into her dress, which is still hanging in the front. This time she pulls it up and over her head, dropping to her knees to finish me off. My throbbing head gets suctioned by her mouth, pulling me in deep. I grab her head and fuck her mouth, going all the way to the back of her throat with my dick. She takes it all without complaint or hesitance, and I keep pumping for a few seconds until I’m ready to release. “I’m going to come,” I tell her.
And then I come. Harder then ever before. My whole cock is one giant spasm, shooting my hot cum into her mouth as she keeps sucking me. I have my own brief few seconds of explosion, and then I’m done. And then. . .
“So how long did you wait to ask me that?”
Shit! I snap back into reality, and what my eyes see isn’t the warm cum dripping from the edge of her mouth as I pull my cock out, but the actual restaurant, filled with people and music and loud noises. Damn, I have a vivid imagination. I guess it kind of comes with the gig. “Oh,” I say, getting my bearings back. “A while now. I don’t know why it took me so long.”
“I don’t know either. We’ve been through some stuff together in a short time. Not really ‘been through’, but we’ve shared some things with each other that. . .” She trails off, and I kno
w why. We both know about my troubles. I brought her right into that drama the second I used my phone call on her to come get me out of that horrible jail. But it was afterwards that things started to get real with us. There was an obvious vibe there right from the start. I could feel it and she could feel it, right there in the signing room as Mike talked to Everleigh and Rowan talked to Gray. But attraction is only one part of it. There was something I saw in her that I can’t articulate—something intangible. I felt close to her right away, which is probably why I called her to begin with when I was at my lowest moment, but then I was amazed when she did something even more intimate—she trusted me with one of her deepest secrets. We haven’t spoken about it since, but I felt even closer to her because she let me know something about herself that she didn’t have to.
“Yeah, we have.” I reach across the table and cup her hand. My thoughts of sex are replaced by feelings of closeness, and I put my hand on hers instinctively for comfort, because I can see that bringing the topic up still hits a nerve. I’m the only one who knows about what happened outside of Everleigh and Rowan, including her family, and I think that’s both a good and a bad thing. “You know, I have to see this therapist as part of my sentencing.”
“Right.”
“She’s great. Her name’s Cordelia.”
“You call her by her first name? Not, like, ‘Dr. Whatever’?”
“I did the first time and she corrected me. She insisted that I call her by her first name.”
“Weird. I thought doctors loved to be called doctors.”
“She’s different. In a lot of ways. Anyhow, the reason I’m bringing it up at all is that she’s really good—famous in the psychological field. If you ever wanted to talk to someone I’m sure she’d see you.”
“I don’t,” she says definitively. “At least not now.” I’m a little taken aback by her tone, and how quickly she shot down the idea of seeing a therapist. I guess I shouldn’t be. The truth is that I wouldn’t be seeing one if a judge didn’t threaten to lock me up otherwise. I must make an expression that she catches because she immediately apologizes. “I’m sorry, Colt, I didn’t mean to snap like that.”
“It’s alright,” I tell her, trying to sound comforting but doing a horrible job at it. “I wasn’t trying to tell you what to do, I was just letting you know that I have a good resource if you ever wanted to. You’ve been told this before, haven’t you?”
She nods and looks me right in the eye. “Yeah, by the girls.”
“Well I’m not the girls, and I’m not telling you what to do. Wanna talk about something else?”
“I wanna hear about your community service. Are you, like, wearing an orange jumpsuit and chained to other dudes by the ankle? Am I gonna see you picking up trash on the side of the road as I’m driving to work?”
“Not exactly. I wasn’t sentenced to be on a chain gang!” I start laughing. The image of being shackled to a bunch of criminals picking up candy bar wrappers and empty styrofoam coffee cups as Harley drives by and waves on the Long Island Expressway is really funny to me for some reason. “You’ve been watching too many movies again.”
“So what is it, then?”
“It’s not so bad. I actually made a suggestion to the court though my lawyer, who actually isn’t so bad considering he looks like a teenager and he took the bar exam like a year ago.”
“So what was the suggestion?”
“Jiu Jitsu,” I tell her. “I’m going to work with some at-risk teens and elementary school kids to teach them self defense and discipline. A few hours a week, nothing crazy, but I think I’ll enjoy teaching. Much better than picking up garbage, you know?”
“Colton that’s really cool. I worked with teens a few summers back at a homeless shelter. It was one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done.” She smiles at me like she’s proud, and I feel that emotion. “Look at you, turning a negative into a positive. You’re amazing.”
“Thanks, Harley.”
“How’s the book coming?”
“Slow and steady,” I tell her. “Which is another way of me saying I’m not writing fast enough.”
“Hey, give yourself a break. You’ve been a little distracted. It’s understandable. Why don’t you make yourself a schedule?”
“Like a writing schedule?”
“Yeah, exactly. That’s what I used to do in college when I had a long paper to write. I’d budget my time depending on how much I had to write for different classes, and then I’d write a little each day.”
I hadn’t thought about that even though it’s really obvious. I know a lot of writers that use schedules, but my process has always been different. Usually I just wait. What I mean by that is that I don’t ever force myself to write. I usually just sit back and let the ideas come to me as they come to me, and they usually appear during weird times—the shower, working out, doing laundry. Then I take out my phone and write them down and eventually that happens enough that I make a book out of it. Maybe that’s why I’m so slow getting books out!
“That’s a great idea. I think I may try that.”
“How much of the book is finished?”
“As of right now, about 25,000 words.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, sorry. It’s a little less than half finished.” I forget sometimes that writers think in word counts, while readers think in page counts.
“Gotcha. Well that’s not bad at all.”
“It’s not bad, but I could be going much faster. It took me three months to write those 25,000 words! At that rate I won’t publish enough to get noticed.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s an Amazon thing. Basically the more you publish the better. More books equals more discoverability when it comes to searches and recommended books for readers. So, basically, I need to move my ass.”
“You can do it, Colt,” she says, looking kind of serious yet kind of sexy at the same time. “I believe in you. I’m not sure why. But something tells me that you’re a diamond in the rough. Maybe, when all is said and done, you’ll be the most successful of any of the Wordsmiths.”
The most successful of any of the Wordsmiths. I can’t believe she’s saying this. For a second I let her words penetrate—I let myself imagine what she’s saying. I can see my books on actual bookshelves, in stores where people can walk by and pick them up. I see them on the Kindles of more readers than I’ve ever imagined. I see myself having a huge following and making some real money for a change.
“You wanna get out of here?” I ask, seeing that she’s almost finished. “Let’s take a walk.”“Sure, I’d love to walk.”
I pay the bill and we get out of there.
When we get outside I don’t even think about it—I just take Harley’s hand in mine as we start to walk. She accepts it right away as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and the feeling of her skin against my skin makes my whole body ignite with a fire inside that’s barely containable. On the street you can see and hear people everywhere, along with the traffic New York always seems to have. There’s energy all around, which is what people love and hate about New York. People move like ants, car horns are the ever present background music of everything that happens, and the lights of businesses shine brightly, illuminating what would otherwise be the darkened streets. Right now I see none of it. I hear none of it. All I see is her, and all I feel is her hand against my hand.
We start to walk in no particular direction, with no destination in mind whatsoever. I don’t ask and neither does she. We don’t care where we’re going, as long as we’re together. I’ve never had this experience with a woman before—never been in a situation where I felt so close to a woman I haven’t slept with, but we have a genuine connection.
“So tell me your greatest wish and your greatest fear,” she says, breaking the silence between us. “Ready, go.”
“Wow. That’s a hell of a question!”
“I know. I like to ask big questions. Chit chat is
death.”
“It’s a big question but it’s easy. I feel like the answer is obvious, though.”
“Your books?”
“Sort of.” I stop us in our tracks for a second and look up. The night sky is beautiful, and I take a deep breath to clear my mind before I answer. “My greatest wish is to be a success. To be the guy people think of when they think of romance. And my greatest fear is that I’ll just be another hack—one more nameless, faceless romance author with my books buried in Amazon hell, and I’ll have to get a real job and give this all up.”
“That’s not going to happen, Colt. I know it seems dark sometimes, as if no one’s going to buy or read your stuff. But they will. I’ll help you with whatever I can, but keep writing these amazing books and eventually you’ll blow up.”
We’re still standing still, and it’s my turn to be impulsive. I turn to face her, and as I separate my hand from hers I place it on her face and lean down. Our lips meet, softly, and I feel her press back into me as though she’s been waiting for this kiss for a long time. I can’t tell you how long it lasts, but it feels like an eternity as we stand there, kissing on the street like no one is around. My whole body lights up, and I can feel a stiffness in my pants that I don’t even care if anyone sees. When we separate I feel naked, like a part of me is missing.
“That was amazing,” she says. “You’re amazing.”
“I’m alright,” I joke. “I’m just happy to be here with you.”
We keep strolling and talking before turning back around to head to where our cars are parked at the restaurant. It’s been an amazing first date, and not only do I feel ridiculously attracted to Harley, but I also feel really close to her. I’ve had so much drama lately that for the first time in a while I feel good, I feel hopeful, I feel ready to take on the world.
8
Colton
Therapy.
I say the word over and over on the long drive in.
Colton: Wordsmith Chronicles Book 2 (The Wordsmith Chronicles) Page 6