Chapter 19
Colton
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mutter to myself, glancing around before sneaking into the horse barn. The door creaks, and I freeze before realizing how ridiculous I’m being.
Squaring my shoulders, I walk inside, my boots thudding lightly against the floor. It’s pitch-black out, but I make my way by memory to the mini-fridge where we keep some fresh produce for treats, among other things. Light gently illuminates the area around me when I open the fridge door.
My heart gives a great big thump when I spot the carrots, and I nearly slam the door shut again.
“Ah, fuck it,” I hiss, grabbing a moderately sized carrot. Before I can step back, I notice something on the shelf nearby. I snag the saddle butter, tuck both it and the root vegetable inside my shirt, and get the fuck out of there.
The ground is soft as I walk briskly back toward the ranch house, rain having hit yesterday. My boots are going to be muddied all to hell, but I’ll deal with it later.
The house is dark as I approach, which is expected considering the late hour. Even still, I’m careful to open the back door into the dining room slowly, not wanting to make any noise. I take off my boots while on the porch, carrying them to the mudroom to deal with later. And then I practically sprint past the carrot-free kitchen—I checked—and race up the stairs.
I’m out of breath when I shut and lock my bedroom door, the soft click like a gunshot. The items I grabbed from the barn rest against my stomach, held in place by my hand over my shirt. I carefully remove them, staring down at the carrot with a mixture of dread and intense curiosity.
If I ordered a… fuck . A dildo . And any of my family found the package before me? I’d never, ever live it down. It would haunt me to the ends of this earth and beyond.
I can’t risk it.
“Jesus,” I grumble, tearing off my pants before I can chicken out.
It’s no big deal. I just want to know what it feels like. I want to know, and then that will be that. It’ll probably be horrible, and then I can drop this whole curiosity thing once and for all.
I kick my pants and underwear toward my hamper, leaving on my shirt and socks so I don’t get cold. With another glance down at the carrot in my hand, I make the decision to grab a condom. I’m not going back downstairs to peel the dang thing, and would that even be safe? To stick a freshly agitated root vegetable up my ass?
No freaking idea.
With my heart racing a mile a minute, I drop onto my bed, comforter tossed aside. My hands shake as I unwrap the condom, and a near-manic laugh bubbles up from my throat.
Good Lord, if anyone could see me now.
I scowl thinking about Noah. Bet he’d enjoy catching me like this. Getting ready to fuck myself with a carrot of all things.
“If you want my dick, Colt, baby, all you have to do is ask.”
I suck in a breath, those words all too easy to hear in the man’s voice.
“Not a fucking chance,” I mutter aloud.
I’m glad for the saddle butter as I roll the condom over the carrot. I don’t have lube, but this will do just fine. Heck, the stuff is basically oil, all natural and safe, made from beeswax and tallow. I’ve never put it up my ass before, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.
My cock perks as I rub the saddle butter over the condom-covered carrot, and I take a minute to stroke myself, my eyes closing as I harden in my fist. That electric current is back, the same one I’ve had anytime I’ve contemplated this over the past couple days.
I just want to know. There’s no shame in that.
Slowly, I guide the carrot where it needs to go. It’s not overly large, certainly smaller than Noah’s dick, which is a damn good thing. Plus, it’s tapered enough it should be easy going, right? The tip is the same size as my finger. It’s a little awkward keeping the condom in place, but I manage, stilling as the end of the carrot presses to my ass.
I breathe out, pushing gently. It glides in, and I freeze.
My heartbeat feels like a herd of horses galloping away inside my chest. There’s something in my ass. A very small something, granted, but still. I plant my feet a little wider, the angle somewhat awkward to maintain. Slowly, I push the carrot a little further.
A gasp falls out of my mouth, the invasion feeling odd. The carrot itself is stiff and cold, not at all like a real dick would be. Probably not that much different than a toy, though, right? I shake my head, giving my cock a few strokes to stay in the game. It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.
I press the vegetable a little further, my ass strangling it on instinct. Wincing a little, I try to relax, but fuck . This is weird. It feels so…impersonal.
There’s a goddam carrot up your ass—what did you expect?
I growl at my conscience, forcing myself to relax. Stroking my cock, I maneuver the carrot around a bit, trying to find an angle that feels good. I manage to fit another half inch or so inside of myself, the pressure strange and not all that pleasant yet.
With a huff, I let go of my cock and grab my phone. Porn? Would that help?
I mean to go to my web browser, but somehow I find myself clicking into my text thread with Noah. I scowl, reading over our last interaction. The man thinks he’s fucking God’s gift to mankind. Like I’ll beg him for his dick. Goddamn ridiculous. I have more self-control than that. And even if I do end up wanting to try real dick, it’s not going to be Noah’s.
Just picturing his face turning smug at the request is enough to have me nearly chucking my phone across the room. Incidentally, that causes both of my hands to tense, and the carrot lodges further up my ass. I go still, waiting for pain. There is none.
Breathing out in relief, I try fucking myself with the couple inches of makeshift dildo in my ass. It’s not… bad . But it’s not doing anything for me, either.
With a frustrated growl, I toss my phone aside. It hits the mattress, and I hear barely there ringing.
Oh, no. No, no, no .
I grab my phone, breath catching when I see the call in progress to Noah. I try to stop it, try to hit the big red button onscreen, but he answers before I have the chance.
“Colton?” the man says, sounding sleep-hoarse.
I panic, hanging up immediately. My pulse rings in my ears as I wait. He’s going to call back. I know he is.
The second the call comes through, I swipe to accept it, not wanting to wake anyone in the house. “I didn’t mean to call,” I tell him, my voice a harsh whisper.
He makes a soft grumbling sound, and I try my hardest not to picture him in his sheets. “You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I hiss. “I’d know if I meant to call you.”
“Why are you awake?” he asks, rustling around.
“None of your business.”
I go to sit up, and that’s when I remember I have a carrot in my ass. I make a startled sound, the shifting having caused it to lodge deeper. Oh fuck .
“Colt?” Noah says, the word firm.
“It’s nothing.”
“Didn’t sound like nothing. Are you hurt?”
I nearly laugh, biting my lip as I resist the urge to move the carrot any which way. “No. Not that you should care.”
His grunt is frustrated. “Right. Why would I? Not like I have a heart or anything.”
I frown. “Not when it comes to me, you don’t.”
“Jesus Christ, Colt. You make me wanna strangle you sometimes.”
This time, I do laugh. It’s not a happy sound. “Case in point. A person doesn’t want to wrap their hands around the neck of someone they care about.”
I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth, the memory of Noah’s hand circling my throat leaving me flashing hot.
He chuckles darkly. “I’m not so sure about that.”
My swallow is rough. “Well, whatever kinky shit you get up to, leave me out of it.”
“I’m not all that kinky,” he says. “Unless… Do you want me to tie you up with rope, little Colt?”
“What?” I sputter, my grip on the carrot making it shift in a way that has me fighting a groan. Okay, damn , that doesn’t feel horrible. “I never said that. Stop putting words in my mouth.”
“I can put something else in your mouth if you’d like.”
“Holy fuck . What is your problem?”
“Well, see,” he says slowly, “somebody woke me up. So I’m feeling a little testy.”
“I already told you I didn’t mean to call,” I snipe back.
“So you say.”
“You didn’t have to pick up,” I point out, squirming a little as I shift the carrot around. It’s moving inside of me easier now, but I wish the condom wasn’t there, as bunched as it is. Doesn’t feel the best. In fact, this experience leaves a lot to be desired. Unless…have I just not gone far enough?
“What are you doing?” Noah asks, his voice low and curious.
I still. “Nothing.”
“Are you…jerking off right now?”
“No,” I deny vehemently, my cock bucking. I bite my lip hard, refusing to make a sound.
“Colt…”
“I’m not . Fuck off. Why would I call you while I’m—”
My words trail off into a moan as the carrot nudges against a place that feels good . Fucking finally . I was starting to worry my ass was broken.
Of course, my relief takes a hefty back seat to Noah’s voice in my ear reminding me of his presence. “We already established you didn’t mean to call,” he says slowly. Carefully. “Which begs the question… If you’re not jerking off, what are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I huff, wanting desperately to nudge the carrot against that spot again that felt like fireworks.
“Colt,” he says dangerously. “You think I don’t remember what you sound like when you’re being pleasured?”
My skin flushes hot. Every inch of me, up in flames in an instant. It’s not embarrassment I feel, not exactly. But I’m not able to escape the reminder that Noah King, somehow, some way, was the one doing said pleasuring .
Which is so fucking ridiculous I want to scream. Or cry.
“Tell me,” he demands, not letting it go. “Tell me what you’re doing.”
I shake my head, gnawing on the inside of my cheek, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Not wanting to admit I was so desperate to know what it feels like to be fucked that I grabbed a carrot and took matters into my own hands.
But this isn’t the same as being fucked. I know it isn’t.
And the tears in my eyes are frustration over that fact. That’s it. That’s all.
“Colt,” Noah says, his voice softer. “Would it help if I told you I’m stroking my own dick now? That the thought of you getting yourself off has me so hard I’m ready to blow?”
“What?” I breathe out. “Why?”
He huffs what might be a laugh, and I chance moving the carrot again. “Because, apparently, men turn me on. Even ones as annoying as you.”
“Fuck off.”
“There he is,” Noah says, sounding almost…tender. Which can’t be right. “Do you know what I’d be doing if I were there right now?”
My lungs catch, the tip of the carrot sending a wave of pleasure crashing through me as I fuck myself with it. “What? No. I don’t…fucking care.”
He hums. “I think you do. I’d stroke your cock for you, little Colt. Do you know why?”
I don’t answer right away, biting the inside of my lip so hard I draw blood. My cock is leaking now, pressure building in my balls as I continue massaging what must be my prostate, right? That has to be what feels so damn good. “I’m not little,” I finally manage.
He chuckles. “I asked you a question.”
I growl, my hips hitching off the bed. Fuck , I wish the carrot was bigger. Warmer. Something . “And, as I told you, I don’t care.”
Noah tsks. “Manners, little Colt. I’d take your cock in my hand because the sight of you at my mercy?” He whistles lowly. “It’s stunning.”
I lose my breath. For a second, I simply can’t breathe. “Hate you.”
“I know you do. Are you about to come?”
“No,” I grit out, my breath sawing out of me, my balls pulled so tight against my body and my spine so rigid I feel as if I could snap. “I don’t… I’m not…”
“Come, little Colt,” he coos. “Put your hand around your throat for me, and come.”
I don’t even have time to do as he asks before I’m falling over the edge. My cock jerks, cum pulsing onto my shirt as my muscles strangle the carrot in my ass. I feel out of my body, warmth blanketing me from the inside out, my nerve endings pinging and a wave of euphoria covering me so fully I want to sink into it and never escape.
It takes me a long moment to come back to myself. To realize I’m panting like I just ran a marathon. To notice my phone now lying beside me on the mattress. To remember the carrot in my hand, the tip of which is still lodged inside my ass.
Holy shit. Holy shit , holy shit.
I didn’t even touch my dick.
I ease the carrot free and drop it on my sheets, not caring that I’ll have to wash away the saddle butter in the morning. My hand shakes as I wipe away the lingering oil, my phone waiting like a bomb I don’t want to trigger.
Could I just…hang up? Just hang up and pretend like this never happened?
The seconds tick by painfully. Finally, I ease the device around, praying the call is disconnected. It’s not.
I bring the phone to my ear, listening.
“Was it good?” Noah asks.
I curse internally, trying to quiet my breaths. “Fuck off.”
“Oh, I did. Quite nicely, in fact. Sounds like you did, too. A thank-you would be nice, little Colt.”
My teeth grind together, my instinct to tell him where to shove it getting tamped down by the fact that there was only one of us who had something shoved up his ass just now. And it wasn’t him.
Noah lets out a sigh. “Fine. Sleep well.”
“Noah,” I say before he can hang up. “I really didn’t mean to call.”
The second I say the words, guilt and regret trickle in. What the fuck? It’s true, and it’s not like I care about his feelings. It’s not like he even wanted me to call in the first place. But still…
Fuck .
I open my mouth to—I don’t know—apologize, maybe? But Noah’s voice is back in my ear before I can.
“Got it,” he says briskly. And then he hangs up.
I let my phone fall to the bed and groan. There’s cum on my shirt and a condom-covered carrot lying near my leg. But all I can think about is Noah fucking King and the hurt I think I heard in those two words.
Fucking hell. What is wrong with me?