Colton: Wordsmith Chronicles Book 2 (The Wordsmith Chronicles)

by Christopher Harlan

  “Let me check,” he says, pulling out his phone. “I texted Ev before, they should be here by now but maybe there was a delay or an accident that created more traffic. There. Texted her again, we’ll wait and see what she says.”

  I flag the waiter down and ask for the check. I have a few bites left on my plate but I could give a shit about them. What I really want to do is get the hell out of here before something bad happens. I’m getting sick of their shit, and I keep going back to that social media post they made. I had to answer about a million PM’s asking me if I was okay, and if I was in trouble. I don’t need that shit in my life, and they’re going out of their way to be pricks.

  Luckily the waiter is on his game and comes back with our check quickly. Without even thinking about it I hand him my credit card, which I already instinctually had ready as to get this process over as fast as we can. “Hey, let us help,” Gray says.

  “We can settle up later, or you can get the next one. Whatever. Just wanna get going. . .”

  The balls on this guy. Roland gets up and walks over to us just as the waiter returns to get my signature on the credit card form. Let me paint a picture of this guy. Imagine some bad boy wannabe who’s got nothing going for him physically except that he’s pretty tall. Other than that he’s skinny, ugly, and writes books that read like a nine year old wrote them. He’s trying so hard to look like one of those alpha characters that women love that I have to smile despite how angry I’m feeling. He looks ridiculous. I can tell right away that he’s trying to throw us for a loop, so I go into full Jiu Jitsu mode. Once you know what your opponent is going to do, you counter before he can do it.

  “Hey, Roland, what’s up?” My voice is way louder and way friendlier than it should be. I’m exaggerating on purpose. I can see my sudden burst of disingenuous energy throws him off because he actually flinches as though I threw a punch at his face. It only lasts a second, but I see that I caught him way off guard. “Looking good.”

  “What’s up Chase? You out on bail?”

  Here we go. No need for any niceties, I see. Fine, two can play at this game. “Your mom bailed me out last night, dude. It was like $1,000. I told her I didn’t have the cash to pay her back, but she agreed that she’d take one inch of my cock in her for every $100 that I owed her. She’s a generous lady.”

  I say that whole thing loud enough as to ensure KL and Johnathan hear every word. Johnathan pretends to be brave and stands up like he’s gonna do something. As soon as he does Gray pops up and turns around and I can see Johnathan recoil. That just leaves Mike and KL, who both slowly get up from their chairs. I haven’t moved an inch except to get to my feet, and I can see that I’m too fast for Roland. He was expecting to come over here and rattle me but instead he’s getting the full brunt of my inner asshole.

  “You’re a funny guy, Chase. I’m sure that went over well in jail. Probably kept the crackheads from running a train on your ass.”

  “Oh, come on Roland,” I joke, using my most sarcastic tone. “You know if anyone’s getting a train run on them it’s your buddies over there taking turns on you. Is that why you’re walking funny? Not enough lube? Rookie mistake. Or do you guys just go full circle jerk to give your assholes a much needed rest?”

  My comeback game is strong right now, and even though my heart is racing like I’m ready to fight, I keep a cool exterior. The last thing Roland is going to see is that he’s getting to me, but I can see that he doesn’t like this. He’s getting roasted in front of his boys, and if there’s one thing no guy likes, it’s that.

  “What’s the matter, Roland? You came over to defend your boy over there and it’s not working out so well, huh?” I motion to KL, who’s just sitting there like the squirrelly piece of shit that he is. “I mean, fuck, it wasn’t even your ass that I beat—though that would have been nice also. Is this what you do, KL?” I ask, talking right to him now. “Send your boy to do your fighting for you? Make some bitch-ass social media posts? God, what a bitch!”

  There are a lot of people looking at us now, and I know that a lot of them are readers. At a signing like this everyone is here for the event, which is another way of saying that everyone is either in the business or a reader. Authors, models, photographers, editors, swag makers and, of course, a lot of fans. I honestly don’t know who’s looking worse right now, but I do know that I’m getting the better of our little verbal jousting, and right now that’s all that’s keeping my fists from his face. Mike turns to me.

  “Did you pay?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “Let’s get out of here. This is a bad look. Great burns, though.”

  “Thanks, man,” I say, grinning at him. “You’re right. Don’t need to waste my time with these guys.”

  We turn to walk away when I hear Roland’s voice one more time. “Don’t you want to know why I was coming over?”

  “Not even a little bit,” I say, turning back around. “But seeing as how you’re a glutton for punishment why don’t you edify me?”

  “Nothing would make me happier, Chase.” I see him go into his jacket pocket, and for a second I think he’s about to pull out a weapon. Then I realize that I’m being silly. Roland Rays is not a fighter, and he’s definitely not a guy who’s about to draw on me in a public place. Instead of a knife or a gun I see a sealed envelope with some writing on the front. He walks towards me and hands it over. “Here you go. Enjoy the signing.”

  The smug grin on his face pisses me off, and I don’t even bother. I shove the envelope into my pants pocket and forget about it. I’m sure it’s just another picture of me getting arrested. We all walk out of the place and I’m fuming that he thinks he got the last word in.

  “What was that?”

  “No idea,” I tell Gray. He looks at me, puzzled.

  “You’re not even curious? Not going to open it?”

  “Whatever it is I’m not interested. I know it’s more shit about me going to jail, he never gets tired of banging that drum.”

  Mike puts his hand on my shoulder just like I did for him a while back when he was hurting. “It’s okay. Don’t let them ruin things. We have a big day tomorrow. You wanna grab a drink or something?”

  “Nah, thanks though. I don’t think adding alcohol to the way I’m feeling is going to make anything better.”

  “I feel you, man. I know all about that. Why don’t you just go back to the room and chill or see if you can get some writing done or something.”

  “Yeah, I think I just might. Sorry guys, don’t mean to fuck up your night.”

  “We’re big boys,” Gray says. “And we care more about you than our night. Go rest up and we’ll grab some food in the morning once the girls are here. Cool?”

  “Cool.”

  We hug it out and I leave them to head back to my room. What a night!

  20

  Colton

  As I get back up to my room my blood is boiling. I always though that was some dumb expression, but I literally feel hot, like my skin is on fire. I’m holding my breath when I should be breathing deeply, and I just keep telling myself over and over again to just get to my room and sleep it off. I’m not here for this shit, and if I get in trouble again I’m sure as hell not going to get off with some fluffy sentence. If I get in trouble again I’ll be doing time, and that’ll spell the end of the career I’m trying to build for myself. Not only that, I’ll screw up everything all of us are trying to do with the Wordsmiths, and I can’t have that.

  I put the key into my hotel room door, and when I open it up I see that I left the lights on. Did I? I could have sworn I shut them off. I take a few steps into the room and. . .

  “Hey there,” Harley says. She’s sitting on the side of my bed reading a book, looking sexy as hell.

  “You’re here? How’d you get in my room?” I ask.

  “Do you want me to go?”

  “No. Hell no,” I say, stammering a little. “I just didn’t expect you.”

  “Well, to ans
wer your first question, yes, I’m clearly here. And for your second question, I convinced the front desk that I was your wife and they gave me a spare key. They should really tighten up security in this place, she didn’t ask me for ID or anything. For all she knew I was some insane stalker waiting to kidnap and torture you.”

  “God, are you a sight for sore eyes.”

  I can feel the stress on my face. That whole thing at dinner wasn’t anything dramatic, but it did trigger those emotions of anger. I’ve been trying to ignore it since the moment I locked eyes with Roland, but I might just be in denial. Laying eyes on Harley calms me down, but I still don’t feel great.

  “What’s the matter?” she asks. “I thought you’d be excited if I surprised you.”

  “I am,” I say, reassuring her. “I really, really am, believe me. But you caught me at a weird time.”

  “How come?”

  I sit down on the bed next to her and she instinctively lays her hands over mine. The feeling of her skin is really comforting, and she holds on to me while I tell her what’s going on.

  “It might be stupid,” I start. Before I get to the next sentence she jumps in.

  “Nothing you’re feeing is stupid, Colton. Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t judge yourself. Just tell me.”

  “Have you seen the social media stuff that Roland and all of them have been posting?”

  “Roland Rays?”

  “Yeah. The one and only.”

  “I unfollowed him years ago after I tried in vain to get through one of his books. I left his group, too, and I sure as hell didn’t join that Brotherhood joke he started. You know I’m ride-or-die team Wordsmiths.”

  I smile. She really is ride-or-die. I love that about her. “Well I don’t know how he got these, but somehow there are pictures out there from when the cops came to arrest me at my house. There are pics of me getting cuffed and put in the back of the car like a criminal.”

  “No shit?”

  “That was my reaction also. The more I think about it—and I’ve thought about it a lot—the more I think he arranged this whole thing. He must have planned it out and had someone in the area ready to take a few shots so he could use them against me later on.”

  “That piece of fucking shit.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me. Anyway, I knew they’d be here, but I guess seeing them in person threw me off. I was raised that if someone messes with you like that, then there’s only one way to handle it. Unfortunately the criminal justice system doesn’t support my own brand of vigilante justice.”

  “I know what you’re saying,” she says, still holding on to my hands and speaking in a warm, soft tone. “But you can’t just go around hitting everyone who pisses you off.”

  “I know. I listen. I’m doing the work. The problem is that fighting is a release—as wrong and as illegal as it may be—it lets those bad feelings out. It chases them away.”

  I stop because I realize how unhealthy that all sounds, but I’m being honest. Part of the reason I used to fight isn’t because I was so out of control that I couldn’t prevent myself from hitting someone, it was because I was trying to get rid of the bad feelings that I had inside myself. It worked, if only for a little while, until they inevitably came back. Shit, what a vicious cycle this all is.

  “Let me chase them away,” she says. She takes her hands off of mine, reaches for my face and starts kissing me. My mind settles right away because the second her lips touch mine I’m not thinking about Roland Rays, or KL Steiner, or any of those guys. I’m not thinking about much at all except the sensation of her warm, wet lips pressing into mine passionately.

  We make out hard for a few minutes before taking the whole thing into the shower. And then I step inside, her wet, naked body only inches from my own, and as the first droplets of water touch my leg, I can’t perceive anything but what’s before me. It’s her. Harley. Naked. Water pouring over her bare breasts, down her nipples, and flying to the floor.

  I reach out and take her by the hips, pulling her close to me. As soon as our bodies touch, I spin her around so that her round ass is pressed right into the rock hard stiffness of my cock, and the water is crashing against her front. I push forward on her hips so that she falls forward, and her hands brace against the wall in front of her. The head of my cock is right against her ass, and as the water falls over her head and onto her back I reach down and guide it around. I tease her ass, holding the head of my cock against it as I spread her cheeks open. Her pussy is staring back at me, begging to be fucked as the steam envelops us. I roll down from her ass to her pussy, dancing my head around her lips in a circular motion, then up and down.

  She turns her head to look back at me as I stop to tease her clit. She wants me to fuck her badly—I can tell—and there’s no need to wait anymore. A few minutes ago I let her have the control, but here in the shower it’s mine. I slide inside her with a hard thrust of my hips that shakes her entire body. She lets out a burst of air and I grab onto both hips and start pumping. She feels so fucking tight! The sensation of the water is heightening the whole experience, the hot water ricocheting off our bodies like little missiles, exploding on impact.

  “Fuck me harder, Colt!” she screams, and I oblige, throwing my hips forward faster, the slapping sound echoing even over the crash of the water. I’m breathing deeply—pulling steam into my ever expanding lungs as my cock does its work. She stands up straight and I pull out. She turns to face me, blocking the water as it jumps over her back and drips down her perfect tits. I take them in my hands and squeeze as she leans in for a kiss. We start making out under the hot water, my cock pressing hard into her stomach, waiting for the next opportunity to be back inside of her.

  I reach behind her and grab a fistful of hair, pulling her head back only slightly, and burying my head in her neck. She moans as I suck on her neck, and her hands start running through my hair furiously. I surprise her by dropping to my knees and reaching under her. She holds onto the wall for balance as I lift one of her legs over my shoulder and rest it there so that her pussy is right in my face where I want it to be. She wraps her leg around me and hooks me tightly as I stare up. I elevate myself slightly, pushing up on my knees until my lips make contact with her.

  I start at her inner thigh, and creep my lips over with small kisses until my lips are on hers. I run my tongue along the outside, up and down, finally stopping at her clit. I keep my face still and just move my tongue, flickering in the slightest of motions across her clit. I feel her body shake and I know I’ve hit the perfect spot. I let my tongue linger in that spot and make controlled circles as I feel her body tense up. I slow down the intensity and spread her open with both hands. I plunge my tongue inside of her, moving my face around so that I can taste every inch of her sweet cunt. She starts to moan again, only louder this time. What else can she do as I destroy her willing pussy with my mouth? “Oh, fuck Colton, fuck! Keep going!”

  I lick her clit some more, and reach underneath her, sliding my middle finger deep inside of her. She trembles, but I don’t stop. I let my finger glide in and out, teasing her for what’s about to happen in a few minutes, driving her to the brink of coming, and then slowing down. She reaches down and grabs onto my hair again, only this time she’s tugging at it, pulling me upwards. I stand up, realizing that it’s time to move it back to the room. “Take me on the bed,” she commands, shutting off the nozzles and stepping out the shower, dripping wet.

  I take her over and put her on her side, lifting one of her legs and resting it on my shoulder. I slide inside her with ease, my cock still sensitive to the clench of her tight pussy. I’m so sensitive, in fact, that I know I’m not going to last much longer. I fuck her for a few more minutes before pulling out and coming all over her, my body tensing and trembling as I hold myself over her body. I lower my head to her pussy again, spreading her with my fingers and licking her clit. She comes less than a minute later, and we both fall back onto the bed.

  “Well,�
� she says. “That was the best greeting ever. You agree?”

  “Best. Ever.”

  And then my eyes fall closed.

  21

  Colton

  I wake up groggy, but my body has never been so relaxed. The room has the combined smells of sex and hotel sheets filling my nostrils, and as I open my eyes to the new day I’m a little disoriented. When I look to my left she’s lying there, and everything comes sharply back into focus. Harley. My muse. Her surprising me redeemed the night after that bullshit with Roland and the Brotherhood. Shit, I have to see those guys today. On the bright side this place is nothing like the hotel we had the Wordsmith signing at a while back. It’s the opposite of intimate—it’s a giant complex where we’ll probably be too lost in the swarming readers and other authors to even notice those guys. I’m going to try to be positive.

  Harley’s still passed out. The girls probably hit a lot of traffic coming up. We didn’t even talk about anything last night before we were all over each other, so I don’t even know for sure. I’m sure she’ll tell me when she wakes up, but last night I didn’t want to talk—I wanted to be inside of her.

  She has that effect on me. I don’t exactly wake up with morning wood, but looking at her naked body lying next to me, hair all over the place, cheeks flushed, and her body looking fit and firm, I feel myself come to attention. Normally I’d take care of that myself, but I’m not going to do that right now. Maybe if I just go to the bathroom and get ready it’ll go down on its own—until the next time I look at her, that is. I swear, Harley should have her picture featured in those erectile dysfunction ads I see on TV every night. Those guys wouldn’t need any Viagra or Cialis after they got a good, hard look at her picture.

  I get up from the bed and grab my crumpled clothes from the floor. I never trust hotel laundry services, I’m always paranoid they’re going to fuck up my clothes, so I always bring a bag with me for dirty laundry. It’s nothing fancy, just a garbage bag, but I keep it in a special pocket of the suitcase sitting on the chair next to the bed. I need to buy new luggage with some of my royalty money because the piece I always bring with me is looking its age. It’s an old, forest green, mid-sized bag that usually holds all of my stuff when I travel to signings. I don’t need much more than that. I’m pretty low maintenance as authors go. You’d be surprised, some of the authors—and I’m talking about the male authors—are total divas.