by Layne Harper
I slide off his lap and onto my knees, so I can kiss his taut stomach. He continues to massage my head and play with my hair. It feels like, for the first time since we walked out of the awards ceremony, Colin’s back. He’s engaging with me. He’s loving me back, not just claiming me.
I tug at his towel, releasing it from his waist, then, I begin to work his damp swim trunks down. He lifts off the chair, so I can slide them over his muscular behind. “Dear God, Charlie. Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he whispers.
I smile up at him as I finally deposit his trunks on the ground next to the chair. “If it’s as much as I love you, then I have an idea.”
I lean over and take his erection into my mouth. There’s something so hedonistic about the combination of his hardness, encased in the softest skin imaginable. I lick up the underside and sweetly sample his drop of dew that is sitting on the tip. His pleasure moans are driving me crazy. They’re foreplay for my sense of hearing. The more he moans, the more I get into sucking and licking him. I’m lost in the sensation of him.
I sheath my teeth and take Colin all of the way to the back of my throat as I suck with all my power. Colin frantically grabs my hair. In a deep throaty voice, he says, “I’m about to come. Let me inside of you.”
I release my mouth’s grip on him, and peek up at Colin through my eyelashes. “You don’t really want me to stop. Do you?”
He gives me a sexy half smile that’s saved just for me. I haven’t seen it since the walk out. “Rain check me, baby.”
With that, he scoops me up and gently lays me on the bed. He glances over at the formerly red chair. “I love that chair,” he says giving me a knowing wink.
I smile as he takes my lips, showing me just how much he does love me. We lie there, kissing and enjoy exploring each other’s mouths while the world debates whether or not Colin and I did the right thing by leaving. We’ve once again found our cocoon, and it’s perfection.
I’m a bit surprised when I feel Colin unbuttoning my pants and pulling down my zipper. I’m still dressed, which I’ve completely forgotten. He breaks our kiss long enough to remove my jeans, panties, and make my tank top and bra disappear. I’m naked, which is my favorite way to be with Colin. He looks like a starving man eyeing a steak when he sees my breasts. I grip them in my hands and begin to tweak my nipples.
For the second time in so many minutes, I get my special half smile. “I believe that those are my play toys, not yours.”
I continue to knead my breasts while I give my nipples extra special attention. “Oh Mr. McKinney, I’m quite sure that you can share.”
He dives on me, sweeping my hands off my breasts, and pins them against my side. He gives me a very serious look. “I’ve told you. I don’t share. I especially don’t share you with the world. I don’t even share you with you.” Then he releases my hands, and grabs my breasts. “I fucking love your tits. These are the world’s best.” I watch his face become shadowed and dark. “Don’t let my shit take these away from us.”
I get it. Colin’s not this upset over the media’s reaction to us leaving the awards. He’s this upset because he thinks that I’m going to get sick again. My scare weeks ago shook him more than I’d realized.
I scoot away from him and scramble to my knees, taking his beautiful face in my hands. I look into his piercing green eyes as I speak. “Baby, listen to me. I’m sorry that you’re worrying about me. I’m okay as long as you’re okay. We’re seeing Doctor Benson every week. I’m better, and this hasn’t been a setback for me. I need you strong, though. I need for you to fight for us. Quit worrying about me, and stand up and defend what we did. We don’t deserve the shit that’s being slung our way.”
I watch his demeanor change. The metamorphosis is staggering. His shoulders are rolled back again, and he looks like my quarterback ready for the big game. The lines around his eyes have relaxed which makes him look so much younger. But, what I notice the most is his aura. Instead of the negativity that he’s been radiating for the last week, he now has a sense of calm that washes over me. I keep my hands on his face, afraid to let him go. Maybe, if I release my touch, this moment might not really be happening, and I’ll have my shell of a man back.
“Every single day, I wake up worried that I’m going to do something to make you sick again. Then, here I go. I can’t keep my shit in check. I didn’t want to share you with the world on the red carpet, so instead, I take a great big fucking spotlight as bright as the sun and point it directly at you. I’m a selfish asshole.” He’s obviously disgusted with himself for walking us out of the awards ceremony. I can tell by the grimace on his face as he’s talking.
I kiss him desperately on his lips. “No, you’re not. You stood up to a small bully who was trying to take your lunch money. You did the right thing. The world wants to hear you stand up for yourself, not have to read it through your statement.” I try and reason with him.
He laughs and pulls away from me breaking the spell. “Don’t kid yourself, sweetheart. I might have issued a press release spewing all that bullshit, but I walked out of there because that SOB insulted you.”
I launch myself at him. He catches me as I begin to passionately kiss his mouth again. We tumble back onto the bed and become a mass of frenzied arms and legs. As he enters me, I gasp, and dig my nails into his back. I’m briefly sorry, but not enough to apologize at the moment. I’m too consumed with him. The feeling of him inside of me is perfection. We’re indescribable. I let go, and give myself over to my orgasm; it’s a full body release. The stress melts away, the worry disappears. Colin follows me a few strokes later. We are one—complete and infinite.
We lay there neither one of us wanting to let go. He whispers his sweet epitaphs to me. “I love you. You are mine. So beautiful.” My lover is back. The cold, dominant man of the last week is gone for now.
But, unfortunately, all wonderful moments must end.
“Hey, baby. Let me up. Since you flew Aiden out here, I should really go talk to him.” Colin gently kisses my forehead and strokes my hair.
“Umm…hmm…”
“Is that the best response that you can give me?” he teases.
“Umm…hmm …”
“Charlie, the house is on fire!”
“Umm…hmm…”
He swats my leg. “Get dressed, and come join us. I’m sure that you’re going to want to be a part of the discussion.”
Oh! Mark. “I need for you to remember that Aiden is your best friend, and he’s worried about you,” I say in my cutest voice, while I bat my eyelashes at him.
Colin sits up and looks at me with alarm. “Why?”
“Promise me that you’re going to play nicely.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” he asks. His amusement of earlier is gone.
“Aiden invited Mark to join us, and he might already be here,” I reply sheepishly, but hurry to continue before he cuts me off. “Aiden thinks that Mark is innocent. Mark has experience dealing with these sorts of situations. Let’s at least hear what he has to say. You don’t have to take his advice.”
“Have I ever told you that you and Aiden are the most meddling motherfuckers that I know?” he says it with a smile, so I’m hoping that we’re not in too much trouble.
* * * *
I procrastinate in the bathroom. I assume that Colin and Aiden would like some time without me around. Then, I check my email. Nothing but spam and more outlandish job offers. I forward the latter to Brad. I also send him a note with one of the job offers. “Let’s get together tomorrow to discuss my options.”
I don’t bother to check my phone. The phone company put a forward on my old number. I’m sure that my voice mail is full of messages from reporters, hoping to get a quote. I do see that I have a text from my dad. We’ve spoken a couple of times since our falling out. He apologized for sending an email card for my birthday, and a day late, at that, and told me he loved me. I took it as a step in the right direction.
; I open the text, and read. “I’m sorry that you have to go through this. I’m proud of CM for not letting anyone verbally abuse my daughter. I love you. Call when you’re free.”
There’s a part of me that instantly wants to send him a message back, but I don’t. I need to think about what I want to say. I was hurt by my dad’s actions and words. I need to tread carefully and not set myself up for heartbreak a second time around. But, I am very happy that he’s reaching out to me.
I follow the sound of voices and find Colin, Aiden, and Mark sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. Aiden is beside Mark, and Colin is on the other side of the bar. I walk over and give Colin a sideways hug, which causes him to pull me to him, holding me tighter. “Hello Mark. Glad that you could make it.”
Mark has his politician face on giving me his huge, fake smile. “Hope that I can help, Caroline.”
“I have a question that’s been bugging me for a while.” I shoot Colin a look. “A very long while.”
“Ask me anything,” Mark replies, obviously happy to be in a position of knowledge.
“Why does the media care so much about us? I mean, I don’t get it. Yes. Colin is a handsome guy. He’s a great athlete. But, why does the press seem to care so much about our personal life? We’re really not all that interesting. When we were together previously, his fans were an issue. I hated that we couldn’t go out in public without people wanting pictures or autographs. But, now, that’s not even close to being a problem. I can’t go to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription without being photographed.” I glance at Colin, and he gives me a reassuring smile that makes me feel better about asking the question. It’s bothered me for a long time, but I didn’t want to ask him, because I was afraid that he would find it insulting.
Mark throws back his head and laughs. “Good question. Let me give you some behind the scenes info. Colin’s games are the highest-rated for the week. They have an extra camera that is focused on him the entire time. He’s been asked by the NFL to remove his helmet on the sidelines. The people that track this kind of thing say that the more that Colin is shown during the game, the higher the viewership.”
I look at Colin to gauge his reaction to what Mark’s saying. Colin just shrugs and kisses my head. “Brad Pitt of football,” he says with a smirk.
Mark replies, “That’s actually not true, Colin. You’re more the Michael Jordan, or David Beckham of football. There hasn’t been another American athlete since Jordan who has managed to have as successful of a business career off the field as they’ve had on the field. The argument can be made that, because Colin’s team hasn’t won a championship, he’s actually more successful off the field.”
Colin flinches. It’s a touchy subject.
“Here’s the deal. Colin has brought female viewership to the NFL like no other player ever has. There are women who get together to watch Colin’s games. His jersey in female sizes outsells most of the other quarterbacks’ male jerseys. He’s the damned Pied Piper of football. Bringing the women to football in droves.”
I lean over, and kiss Colin’s forehead. He’s got a smug look on his face that makes me laugh. Cocky bastard. “That’s fine. I get it. He’s good for ratings, and any company that’s lucky enough to get him to endorse their product, but what’s with the fascination over our relationship?”
“Simple. The public feels like they know Colin. He’s their friend. He’s been this successful because he’s been able to endear himself to his audience. Plus, they see him on their televisions, in their magazine, and on their computers,” Mark states.
Aiden chimes in. “It’s the same reason that you want to know about my relationship with Rachael.”
“That’s not true.” I defend myself. “I want to know about your relationship with Rachael because she’s my best friend, and you’re Colin’s. I care about you guys.”
“That’s exactly how Colin’s fans feels about Colin. They think that they know him,” Mark says.
“Then why do they want to tear him down? Why was the press so relentless about the prescription drug abuse allegations?” I shake my head in disgust because it doesn’t make sense to me.
“Because there’s nothing that the public loves more than to see their hero struggle, fall down—and then get back up again.”
* * * *
We spend the next two hours brainstorming on how to deal with the situation at hand. Even though I don’t think Mark and Colin will ever be tight again, I can tell that Colin still values his opinion. He even asks for Mark’s advice on particular points.
The strategy that the guys and I agree on is for Colin to take the Hugh Grant approach to dealing with the issue. I mean, thankfully, Colin didn’t get caught with a prostitute, but this monster has definitely taken on a life of its own, like Hugh’s story did.
Colin will go on a late-night talk show. He’ll let the comedian make a few jokes at his expense. Then, Colin will explain why we walked out of the Espy Awards. The questions will not be hard-hitting or provocative. He’ll touch on the painkiller abuse allegations, but he won’t be drilled for answers. This is more of a way to keep his sponsors happy, and hopefully shut up the detractors, who are calling him a spoiled, drugged-up athlete. And, with training camp just a couple of weeks away, the timing couldn’t be better.
Mark has connections with most of the producers for the late night shows, but Colin is actually friends with one of the hosts. Mark thinks it would be better if Colin made a personal call, and arranged the interview himself.
The idea of Colin doing another interview and exposing himself to the public even more makes me uneasy, terrified, queasy—all of these adjectives will work. However, there doesn’t seem to be any other option. His team is putting pressure on him. His sponsors want him to defend himself. The people who buy his jerseys want to hear what Colin has to say. This seems to be the best way. The story is obviously not going to go away on its own.
I fix the four of us dinner—nothing fancy, just some grilled steaks and vegetables with a salad. Over dinner, the guys talk about Colin’s charity golf tournament next weekend. They’ve played in it every year, but this is my first time attending. Colin started it up after we broke up.
Apparently, it’s one crazy weekend. The guest list is the who’s who of the sporting and entertainment world. Even a former president attends every year. There’s a sponsor’s dinner that’s held Friday night, then Saturday is the golf tournament. On Saturday night, at one of the hottest clubs in Dallas, is the after party. Finally, on Sunday, Colin invites his closest friends and family to the house, and Colin’s mom makes everybody a Texan brunch. The rest of Sunday is spent swimming and playing in a legendary Dominoes Tournament where the prizes include bragging rights for the year, and a trophy that resembles the Vince Lombardi trophy. The loser has to drink beer out of Colin’s running shoes, make a dance video and upload it to YouTube, and buy everyone dinner on Sunday night.
The three guys regale me with stories from past tournament weekends. It really does sound like a blast. It’s nice to see Colin laughing with Mark. I have hope for their relationship.
Mark is staying at a nearby hotel, which is probably for the best. I’m assuming that he didn’t want to press his luck. Aiden takes one of the bedrooms upstairs.
Colin and I say goodnight to everyone and head to our room. I’m anxious to have some alone time with him, and hear his thoughts on doing another interview. Here’s what I’ve learned about Mr. McKinney: what he says in front of others are half-truths. He’s not lying. He just holds his cards close to his chest. But, when we’re alone, I can usually get his honest thoughts on whatever was discussed.
“What do you think about doing another interview?” I ask, as I slip out of my jeans and tank top and into one of Colin’s T-shirts.
He’s in the bathroom brushing his teeth when I ask, so he makes all kinds of funny garbled noises with a mouth full of toothpaste. When he spits, he asks, “Did you get that?”
“Loud an
d clear. You said ‘garbarelidngsojeghatit,’” I reply, while I run a makeup remover wipe over one eye then the other before splashing warm water on my face.
“Exactly!” Colin walks into the closet to take off his clothes and put them in the dirty clothes basket, because God bless that man, he knows that I can’t stand his clothes left lying on the bathroom floor. “Why is it that I sleep naked, yet you start out every night in one of my T-shirts? Have you ever thought about skipping the middle man and just coming to bed nude?”
“You will not get me off track with your naked talk, McKinney.” I smooth my moisturizer over my cheeks. “How do you feel about doing another interview?”
I watch him in the mirror, in all of his naked glory, walking toward me. He stops behind me and wraps his arms around me to hold my breasts. I see this for what it is. He doesn’t want to discuss the interview with me, and he’s using his fingers to attempt to distract me. I continue rubbing my moisturizer into my skin, doing my best to ignore Captain Distraction.
It’s hard—God, that feels amazing—but I hold out. “Fine,” he says, dropping his hands in defeat. “I want everybody to go the fuck away and let me play football. I want you to go back to practicing medicine, because I’m ready for you to be happy again—not this forced shit that you keep pulling on me. I want Brad to get his house finished, because I’m tired of listening to his DIY project updates. I want Jenny to decide on a hair color. I want Aiden and Rachael to either figure their shit out or leave each other alone, because Aiden’s chick drama is annoying.” I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Colin has Aiden and Rachael scoop, and I want to know what it is. Before I can ask, he continues.