Chapter 11
Colt
Fighting every instinct to work is difficult, but I do.
I sleep, I relax in bed, and Denver stays with me as much as she can.
There are some days when I can barely open my eyes, others when I’m itching to do something, anything, and on those days, people keep me company when Denver can’t.
I sit with Ronan, too, watching him kept alive with machines and tubes.
He hasn’t gotten worse, but he hasn’t gotten better, either.
It’s been weeks, and I hope to God he wakes up soon.
On the long days, Holly watches movies with me, Taf talks my ear off about JJ, and when Alistair eventually shows up, I do what I should have done the moment I said those awful things to him.
“I’m sorry,” I say as he sits beside me on the bed. “I didn’t mean any of it.”
He exhales. “You weren’t totally wrong, though. If I’d been less of a prick to Denver, she’d have told me before she stepped foot in Vince’s house.” He takes a handful of popcorn from the bowl between us and scoops it into his mouth. “You were still a fucking dick, though.”
“I know.”
He chews, then swallows. “Moody prick.”
“Useless dickhead.”
He smirks and snatches the controller. “What is this shit you’re watching?”
After a week, I need to push myself. So, I walk Wesson.
We go farther every day. The first time I try to jog with him, the dog looks at me with pity as I grip my knees, barely able to breathe, but I keep going.
I pull back when Denver snaps at me for doing too much, and I push myself further when I know I can handle it.
The headaches subside—mostly. Waking up gets easier. Staying awake does, too.
My head clears.
And after what feels like forever, I stand in front of the mirror, buttoning up my shirt. I roll up the sleeves, closing my fingers into my palm to watch the ink shift across my skin, then finally look at my reflection.
Running my hand across my beard, I spot a few new grays in the black. I don’t feel like I look older, but maybe that’s wishful thinking. The shit I’ve been through would age anyone.
“Colt Harland,” a smooth, seductive voice says from behind me. I smirk at Denver’s reflection as she saunters over to me, looking like a fucking dream. Pencil skirt, loose blouse and heels, she’s a businesswoman with a bloodstained past. She stands beside me. “I forgot how good you look like this.”
I angle my head to look down at her. “And how do I look?”
“Powerful,” she breathes, eyes sparkling. She pulls her red-painted bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it slowly. We haven’t had sex yet. A few handsy orgasms, but nothing more. She insisted rest meant rest, even though I’ve caught her gazing at me like this on more than a few occasions.
But looking at her right now, there’s no way I’m resisting any longer.
I face her, slipping my hand to the back of her neck and angling her head up. Just being this close to her has my cock thickening, and I gently grip her hair. Her lips part, and I admire the flush climbing up her neck.
“I’ve forgotten how good you look with my cock buried inside you,” I say, and she shudders, leaning into me, her gaze becoming glassy with desire. “So why don’t you be a good girl and remind me?” She weakens in my hold. “Skirt up. Panties down. Hands against the wall. The heels stay on.”
Her throat dips with a cautious swallow. “People are waiting for us.”
I tighten my grip on her hair. “Then they’ll wait. And when we join them, your pussy will be dripping with my cum.”
She’s almost panting as she does as I ask, shimmying the figure-hugging skirt up her hips.
Heat climbs down my spine and through my cock as she pushes down her lace panties, the material pooling at her feet before she steps out of them.
Her hands are flat against the wall as I kneel behind her, burying my face between her thighs and groaning like a starved man finally being fed.
“I hate that I can’t throw you on that bed, lock the door, and fuck you to within an inch of your life,” I say against her pussy as she arches her back, needily pushing herself against my mouth. I swipe my tongue up her, and her cry is muffled in the wall.
I stand, unbuckling my belt. “Stuffing you full of my cum will have to do for now.”
“I want all of it,” she moans. “I want it warm in my pussy while we’re in that meeting.”
After weeks of not feeling her warmth around my dick, I’m so hard it’s almost painful. I swipe between her legs, sucking my finger clean.
I position myself, gliding my cock across her wetness. “I’m not going to be gentle, Del.”
She grins at me over her shoulder. “Have I ever asked you to be?”
God, I love this woman.
Her cry is a symphony as I bury myself deep with a quick, fluid thrust of my hips. She’s hot and wet, strangling my dick, fluttering around me, and I grip her hips, steadying my breathing as I savor the feeling of her.
And true to my word, I’m not gentle. I ravage her. Fuck her. The room is filled with sounds of filth and raw, potent desire—skin against skin, wet against wet, Denver’s breathy moans and my groans.
“Listen to how wet you are,” I say against her ear.
“My cock just slides into you because of how greedy your pussy is.” She whimpers, leaning her head back, and I dip my hand into her blouse and bra, playing with her nipple.
“I expect you to be like this all the time, Del. Soaked and ready to be fucked and filled. Will you do that for me?”
“Yes. I’ll always be like this for you. Forever.” She moans so loud it sends more jolts of ecstasy through me. “I’m yours.”
Someone knocks on the door. Alistair says, “Colt, we’re waiting.”
“We’re coming,” Denver says, and I cover her mouth, laughing into her shoulder as I drill into her harder.
“I fucking hate you two,” he snaps, his footsteps leading away from the door.
I slap Denver’s ass. “You’re a brat.”
“I live to tease—” Her words morph into a cry as I up my speed, slamming into her. “Oh, fuck, Colt!”
She comes, her nails pressed into the wall, and her pulsing pussy has me coming, too. I do as promised and fill her up, dropping my head to her back as I slow my movements and eventually stop.
I pull out of her. “Don’t lose a drop, Denver.”
She bites her lip, and I get to my knees, gliding her underwear back up her legs. I pull her skirt back down and turn her to face me.
She’s flushed, her smile satisfied, and I kiss her nose. “You look thoroughly fucked.”
She grins, showing me all her teeth. “Because I am.”
I laugh, kissing her again, wishing I could take another day for us. Ironic, given how eager I was for this meeting to happen. “Game face on, Del.”
“Easy for you to say.” She adjusts her skirt. “You’re not filled with cum.” I smack her ass and she squeals out a laugh as she opens the bedroom door, and we join the people waiting downstairs.
The dining room is busy, but the conversation is quiet.
The room is filled with my friends and men I trust, some who haven’t seen me since before the coma.
They shake my hand and say they’re happy to see me up and about; others ask about Ronan, and I don’t tell them that he’s still unresponsive.
I say he’s getting better. I say things are looking hopeful.
A necessary lie.
The chair at the head of the table has been removed so everyone can see me standing at the end, and the other seats are filled. Alistair is seated closest to me, his laptop open, working quietly. Taf is beside him.
Keto, JJ and Charlie are all making Lewis laugh.
Beside him is Lucas, someone I recruited from prison two years ago.
Alexei Volkov had spent a few days behind bars after a less-than-thought-out shoot-up at a local bar, where so much evidence was stacked against him even his connections struggled to get him out.
While he was there, he met Lucas, a nineteen-year-old who was arrested for stealing a car.
The truth was, he’d broken into the car to sleep in it, not realizing it had been stolen hours before.
He’d been on the streets for close to a year at that point and told Alexei he planned on staying inside if it meant a roof over his head and three meals a day.
When Alexei was released, he got Lucas out, too, and dropped him off on my doorstep.
“I’ve got enough kids,” Alexei had said, lighting a cigarette and half shoving Lucas into the brownstone. “You can have this one.”
I took him in. He’s a quiet kid, even now, but he’s loyal. He’s smart, too, and drinks in most of what Alistair tells him about how the business runs. He will likely be Alistair’s second once he takes over and I’m gone.
Alexei is here, too. Of all the family heads, I trust him most. He was more than happy to let me know what was discussed at his meeting with Ranger, and claimed he was tempted by the offers of power but would rather die a man with morals than more money than he needed.
He’s at the back of the room, examining his fingernails like he’s bored, when I know for a fact he loves the drama.
There are others, too. Men who are the first I call when I need more than just hired muscle. Everyone is talking among themselves, waiting for the meeting to officially start.
Denver is by my side, and I lean close and kiss her neck. “How wet are your panties right now?”
She barely holds back a smile as she types on her phone. “You need to control yourself.”
“Would you like me to control myself?”
“Not even a little bit. I like you undone. Undone, and a little bit stabby.” I laugh and she bites her lip, her eyes sparkling as she shows me her phone screen. “Should we get Holly a dog?”
I look at a photo of a golden retriever on Denver’s phone. The rescue site says he’s three months old, abandoned, and in need of a good home.
“Apparently having a pet teaches kids responsibility.” Denver returns her attention to her phone. “And she deserves something nice.”