For You

by Kristen Ashley

  Feb’s eyes had come back to him while he spoke and she asked, “He willin’ to testify to this?”

  For the first time since the shit hit that morning, Colt smiled. His Feb was far from dumb.

  “He says absolutely.”

  Her hands stopped massaging and she asked, “Do you think this’ll go to court?”

  Colt shook his head before dropping it back to the couch, his story was done and the exhaustion he felt from just talking seemed to seep into his bones. He slid his hands from her thighs, up her sides, one arm going around her waist, the other one up her back, her neck, into her hair. He pressed her down until she was flat against him, her forehead in his neck.

  After he did this, he answered, “No way of knowin’, Feb, how this’ll turn out. If they’ll bring him in or if he’ll fight and get himself killed. Or, if they bring him in, if he’ll confess. Just don’t know.”

  “If it does, will I have to testify?” Before he could answer, her hand gripped his neck and she surprised Colt by saying, “Because, if it gets to that, I’m willing.” Her hand squeezed his neck and she went on. “You can tell them that.” She pressed against him, at his chest, her forehead moving deeper into his neck. “I want it on record, I don’t care where and if no one ever reads it, I want it on record what he did to us. I want to sit in a room and face him and tell him how he made me feel. I don’t care if it doesn’t penetrate that sick brain of his, I’m willin’ to do it and I want the opportunity to tell him how much I hate him.”

  Colt was thinking that he might be wrong about Feb. Perhaps it wasn’t panic etched in her face, her frame. Perhaps the severity of emotion she was keeping hold of just barely was something else. Perhaps February Owens was made of something he didn’t expect. She’d been tested in the past and she’d failed. But that didn’t mean she didn’t learn from those failures.

  She broke into his thoughts by asking, “You’ll let them know?”

  He nodded and said, “Yeah, honey, I’ll let them know.”

  She gave his neck another squeeze and wriggled closer before she whispered, “Good.”

  Colt decided the time had come for them to move on to a more pleasant part of their evening and his arm at her waist dropped down so he could run his hand over her ass.

  “All right, baby, I want my cock inside you but I’m wiped,” he felt her tense against him as he kept talking, “so, seein’ as you spent the whole day sleepin’, I figure you’re up for doin’ all the work.”

  She lifted her head and looked at him. Her eyes were soft in that sexy way again and her lips were tipped up at the ends.

  “Yeah,” she said, “I’m up for that.”

  * * * * *

  Colt lay on his back, his hand at Feb’s breast, his other hand over hers between her legs, feeling her circle her own clit with her finger, watching her ride him and he knew she was close but she wasn’t close enough. Watching her, feeling her, listening to her, he was closer and he was going to come before she did.

  “Baby, hurry,” he groaned and her head, tipped back, tilted forward, her hair slid into her face, around her shoulders, down her chest and her eyes, soft and turned on, focused on his.

  Christ, just looking at her face when it was like that took him nearer the edge.

  She leaned forward, putting her free hand to the bed, giving herself leverage to ram herself down harder on his cock, faster, and that was exactly what he didn’t need. Fuck, now she was driving him over the edge and he was struggling to hold onto his control, to fight against her pull. He wanted her to come with him.

  He rolled her nipple with his fingers and heard her moan, he liked the sound but he wanted it in his mouth.

  “Feb –”

  Her finger moved from her clit to become two fingers sliding around the root of his cock.

  “God,” she whispered, “that’s you.”

  “It’s me, baby.”

  She dropped down so her chest was against his, her mouth at his neck, her finger going back to circle her clit, this time faster, pressing deeper.

  “I’ve got you back,” she breathed against his neck.

  “I’m right here.”

  “You’re inside me.”

  “Feb –”

  “Locked deep.”

  Fucking hell, she needed to fucking hurry. He was about to explode.

  “Feb, honey –”

  “Locked deep,” she repeated on a whisper, he felt her pussy convulse around his cock just as she sucked in breath against his neck. He took his hand from her breast and grasped her hair, using it to pull her face out of his neck and bring it to him, her mouth opening over his and he absorbed her moan as he bucked his hips, buried himself deep and came right along with her.

  After they came down, he pulled her hand out from between them and her weight collapsed on him as he circled her with his arms. She pressed her face back into his neck, slid the fingers of one hand into the hair at the side of his head and she ground her hips into his cock.

  Her actions tore the words, “Fuck, baby,” out of him because it felt so damned good.

  “Locked deep,” she whispered again and his arms tightened before his hands slid down to cup her ass.

  Best place to be, Colt thought, locked deep in Feb. He was thinking figuratively because he knew it was true literally. She was a natural at this shit, considering she’d only had four lovers and apparently a number of long, dry spells. Hell, she was so good, she could teach classes.

  His mind turning to that, he decided when this was all over, there were a few men in the town he’d be having words with. Twenty-two years ago they spread lies about Feb. He’d see to it now the truth would come out. She was still carrying around a reputation she didn’t earn, not that anyone cared anymore except Feb, and Colt couldn’t allow her to continue carrying that burden. In this mess that was a wrong Colt had the power to do something about and he intended to set it right.

  Her fingers glided through his hair and she tilted her head to kiss the underside of his jaw, taking his mind from his thoughts.

  “You go to sleep, darlin’,” she encouraged.

  His fingers tensed on her ass. “Not tired?” he asked.

  She shook her head and he heard her hair brush the pillow, her necklaces clinking and felt her nose brush his neck, three things he automatically committed to memory.

  “Feb –”

  “It’s okay, I’ll watch you sleep.”

  He moved a hand from her ass to wrap it in her hair and lifted her head up with a gentle tug so he could look at her.

  “Watch me sleep?” he asked, trying not to smile.

  “Yeah,” she said, her lips tipped up at the ends.

  He lost the fight with his smile and remarked, “That’ll be fascinating.”

  Her smile died and she told him, “I used to do it all the time. Watch you sleep, thinkin’ how lucky I was, I had you.”

  Colt felt that warmth hit his chest with a force that knocked the wind out of him.

  He didn’t know that, she’d never told him. He was beginning to think he was uncertain about this new Feb who shared. She kept sharing, she’d undo him.

  “Now I can do it,” she whispered, moving her face closer, “thinkin’ how lucky I am havin’ you back.”

  He couldn’t take anymore.

  Colt rolled her to her back, pulling out, losing their connection but covering her with his body as he ordered, “Shut up, Feb.”

  “What?” Her tone was confused but threaded with hurt.

  “I said, shut up.”

  Her head twitched and her eyes slid away as she mumbled, “Sorry, I –”

  His hand still in her hair twisted. “Don’t say you’re sorry,” her eyes slid back to his as he went on, “got nothin’ to be sorry for. And you got nothin’ to feel lucky about.”

  “Alec –”

  “One person lucky in this bed, baby, and that person’s got a dick.”

  Her lips parted again as she stared at him silent.

/>   “You know the life I was born into.”

  “Alec –”

  “That life coulda taken me down a different road, but it led me to you.”

  “Alec –”

  He heard a phone ringing, a cell, Feb’s tone coming from the living room and he heard it so well he hoped to God Jackie was dead asleep because Feb was a moaner and when he was fucking her, she could get loud.

  He ignored the noise and said to Feb, “Sucks, baby, what happened to us, what happened to you, what’s still happenin’ to you. But we’re back on track and, make no mistake, it isn’t you who’s lucky we are, it’s me who’s the lucky one.”

  Her phone stopped ringing as she said, “Colt, it’s me who –”

  He dropped his head, kissed her quiet and when he lifted his head again, he said, “Stop sharin’, Feb, can’t take it.”

  He watched her eyes get big. “I thought you wanted me to share.”

  He smiled at her. “I’m thinkin’ I was wrong.”

  “But –”

  He touched his lips to hers again and teased, “You’re too sweet, like candy, you keep goin’, you’ll rot my teeth.”

  He heard her phone start ringing again and he lifted his head to listen to it.

  “Alec –”

  Quickly and distractedly, he ordered, “Quiet, Feb.”

  “You’re very bossy,” she said on a mildly annoyed snap, one that said she didn’t mean it but she also kind of did.

  Her phone stopped ringing and he focused back on her.

  “February –” he started to close the conversation down but her phone started ringing yet again and the warmth Feb injected into his chest evaporated, the cold taking over, he watched her head twitch as she finally heard her cell.

  “Fuck,” he cursed, pulling away from her and rolling off the bed.

  He grabbed his jeans off the floor as she came up on an elbow, yanking the covers over her breasts, her head tilted as she listened to her phone stop ringing then, seconds later, it started again. Her eyes sliced to his as he tugged on his jeans. He watched her face paling before she threw off the covers, twisted her legs over the side, got up and grabbed his shirt.

  “Let me take care of this,” he said to her as she shrugged his shirt on.

  “Okay, but I’m coming with you.”

  “Feb –” he began as she bent forward to nab her panties but shot back up to lock eyes with him.

  “I’m comin’ with you.”

  At her tone Colt felt it prudent not to argue.

  The phone stopped ringing and started again by the time she had her underwear on and three buttons done up at her chest. They hit the living room and she turned on a lamp. Her purse was on his coffee table, the cell on top stopped ringing only to start again.

  He grabbed it, looked at the display and it said “Unknown caller.”

  Colt let it ring once more before he flipped it open and put it to his ear.

  “Better be good, it’s fuckin’ midnight,” he said into the phone.

  He got silence back and he watched Feb watching him.

  “Someone there?” Colt prompted.

  Nothing.

  “Don’t piss me off,” he warned and that’s when he got it.

  “She’s not supposed to be there,” a man’s voice, vibrating with emotion, probably anger, said into his ear. Colt couldn’t know for sure if it was Denny, if he’d ever actually spoken to the man, it hadn’t been in years but he still knew it was Denny.

  “Lowe?” he asked, waving his hand at Feb, motioning to the bedroom, hoping she’d understand what he meant. She nodded and ran down the hall.

  “No,” the man said.

  “This isn’t Denny Lowe?”

  “No,” the voice was getting agitated, “this is Lieutenant Alexander Colton.”

  Colt felt a chill shaft down his spine.

  Fucking shit. This guy was whacked.

  “You’re wrong, seein’ as I’m Alec Colton,” Colt told him.

  “No. No, you aren’t. She isn’t supposed to be there. Not without me.”

  Colt had absolutely no idea how to play this and he also didn’t know if Feb was right now calling Sully.

  He went with his gut, hoping Feb read his meaning and doing what he could to keep the sick bastard on the line. “She’s Feb, Denny, you know she’s meant to be with me.”

  “She’s meant to be with me.”

  “How do you know she’s here?”

  “You can’t have her, she’s mine.”

  “Sorry, Denny, you’re wrong. She’s mine, always has been and you know it.”

  “You can’t have her. She and I are meant to be together.”

  “How do you know she’s with me, Denny?”

  “Stop callin’ me Denny!” he shouted as Feb hit the room, Colt’s cell in her hand, her eyes on Colt.

  “Denny, listen to me, you aren’t doin’ right by her. What you’re doin’, Feb doesn’t want. You’re tearin’ her apart. Stop. Go to the nearest Police Station and turn yourself in.”

  “Gotta make her safe. It’s my job. I’m the good guy. I’m the police. I gotta make her safe so no one can hurt her again.”

  “You aren’t makin’ her safe, Denny, you’re hurting her, scaring her.”

  “She knows it’s my job. She knows I’m doin’ it all for her.”

  Colt tried something different. “How’d you get this number, Denny?”

  “She gave it to me.”

  “She didn’t. She hasn’t seen you in years.”

  “I come into the bar all the time.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, I do. Sit at the end. She brings me beers. She watches me when she thinks I’m not lookin’.”

  Holy fuck, he had eyes in that bar.

  “Denny, I do that. You haven’t been in the bar since she’s been home.”

  “I’m there all the time, ask Morrie, he’s seen me.”

  “No, Morrie has seen me, Denny, you aren’t me,” Colt told him. “Turn yourself in.”

  “Gotta make her safe so no one will hurt her again.”

  “Do the right thing, turn yourself in.”

  “Gotta make her safe.”

  “Are you in town? Is that how you know she’s here?”

  “Keep tabs on her, gotta keep her safe.”

  Jesus, who was this guy’s eyes?

  “Denny, don’t make this worse for Feb, for you. I’m tellin’ you, the best thing you can do is turn yourself in.”

  “Got two more then she’ll be safe.”

  Colt heard the disconnect and hissed, “Fuck!”

  Two more. One was him, the other a wildcard.

  “Colt?” he heard Feb call and looked at her to see Jackie was now with her, Jackie’s arm around Feb’s waist, holding her daughter close.

  “It was Denny,” Colt confirmed and lifted his hand, indicating his phone. “You call Sully?”

  Feb stepped away from her mother, came to him and handed him his phone, nodding. “Told him about the call, gave him my number.”

  Colt flipped her phone shut and his open, scrolling to Sully, he hit the go button.

  He listened to it ring once before Sully said, “Colt?”

  “They get it?”

  “Don’t know, gotta keep this line open for the call back.”

  “I’ll let you go but you gotta know, he’s got eyes on the bar, Sul, and he knows she’s with me now.”

  “Right.”

  “Send someone to the bar, do a sweep, it may be cameras.”

  “Your house?”

  That chill shafted back up his spine. “My house too. I’ll do the sweep tonight.”

  “Report in. Out.”

  Colt flipped the phone closed and looked at Feb. “Put some clothes on, baby.”

  “He’s watching?” she whispered.

  “Don’t know, put some clothes on.”

  She ran from the room.

  “I’ll make coffee,” Jackie said and headed to the kitchen.

>   Colt followed Feb, he wanted to check the bedroom first and he wanted to do it wearing a t-shirt.

  * * * * *

  An hour later Colt sat on the couch, Feb curled into his side, her arm draped around his stomach, her legs bent and resting on his thigh. She was pressing in so close it felt like she wanted to graft herself to him.

  Jackie was curled into the armchair angled at the side of the couch, her legs like her daughter’s, resting on the arm of the chair, her eyes on Colt.

  He had his arm wound around Feb’s back, his hand resting lightly on her hip. He was trying to appear calm when he fucking wasn’t.

  He had his cell to his ear and he heard it ring once.

  “Colt.”

  “House is clean, Sully.”

  “Bar isn’t,” Sully replied. “Two eyes so far both pointed at the bar. They’re still lookin’ but they got some technical wizard who found the feed. They’re tracin’ it same time they’re preparin’ for a showdown.”

  “Give me more,” Colt demanded when Sully stopped.

  “Well the good news, it’s amateur, still brilliant but either dumb luck or lots of research. Probably got the instructions off the internet. Means they’re thinkin’ he did it himself and maybe the equipment has a print.”

  “All right, what else?”

  “Other good news is; the feed has to be close. He isn’t beaming it to the moon. If he’s watchin’, he’s close too.”

  “Good.”

  “Okay, Colt, the bad news is, he knows Feb’s there because he’s got a camera on the street pointed at your house. They’re now tracin’ that feed too but we suspect it’s goin’ to the same place.”

  “So he’s either close and watchin’ or he’s got an accomplice who’s informing.”

  “That’s right.”

  “He called her phone, Sully,” Colt told him.

  “Easy for him to find her number, seein’ as he spent time in her house. Her number’s on her phone bill. Called Chris, he said we got one of Lowe’s prints off the big plastic folder she keeps her paperwork in, stowed in the closet on the shelf by her journals.”

  “Chris is a good man.”

  “Gotta watch it, Colt, he’s after our jobs.” Sully was joking but he wasn’t wrong. Chris would make detective, he wanted it, he worked hard and he was fucking smart, so much so, he might even beat Colt’s record to the badge.