25. Colt
25
COLT
“How’s that head treating you?” my psychology professor asks as I pass his desk on Friday afternoon after class. Most of the others have already left, with me bringing up the rear. I’m still moving a little slowly, even three days after the crash—the pain in my back and shoulders isn’t as bad, but my knees hit the steering column, and there’s still a little soreness.
“Getting better all the time. I’ll have to take a little time off from modeling,” I joke, and he laughs.
“You just take care of it. Any dizziness or sudden pain, get yourself straight to the hospital.” Because being a psychology professor apparently makes him an expert.
Really, I know I should be grateful someone cares, and I am. That’s why I give him a quick salute before heading out of the lecture hall, my mind on finding Leni. We’ve both been a little slower than usual since coming back to school yesterday—there was no way I was hanging around, cooped up in the apartment all because of a swollen bruise on my forehead and a few aches and pains elsewhere.
“Oh, you can’t handle being locked up, but I’m supposed to be okay with it?” Nix’s complaints echo in my memory as I step outside, glad for the sunshine. I reminded him I’m not the one who recently committed murder, even if it was for a good reason.
Leni is waiting for me on the bench in the quad, the halfway point between our two classes. What have I ever done in my life to deserve the happy little smile she wears when she sees me approaching? It feels unfair. There are times when I’m sure she’s going to wake up one morning and realize this has all been a mistake, that she can do so much better. That she can love someone who won’t put her life in danger. It’s only because of my association with Deborah that she was ever in that bitch’s crosshairs in the first place.
“How was class?” She reaches up to kiss my cheek, lingering there an extra beat. She’s been like that since the crash. Everything feels a little more significant than before. That will ease up with time, once she feels a little more secure again.
“The usual. No big deal. Though I did get a few looks from people who were trying not to stare at this.” I touch a finger to the egg on my forehead, which I’m sure is going to turn into a beautiful, sickening shade of yellow and green before long. I’d wear a ball cap to at least hide it under the shadow of the brim, but my forehead is too swollen. It would only end up hurting—not to mention looking weird.
“Well, now you can rest up a little. Maybe it’ll look better by Monday.” Her endless optimism is sweet. Something tells me it’s going to take a little longer than that.
What we need is a couple of days spent recuperating, though. She’s right about that. And when we get home, I’m more sure than ever. Nix is sprawled out on the sofa, looking pissed. He doesn’t even brighten up when Leni comes in. “Finally. I thought I’d be sitting here alone all day,” he mutters, scowling like we’re the ones who dictate when our classes land during the day and how long they last.
“We got back as soon as we could.” She glances at me, frowning like she’s worried, before going to the bedroom to leave her book bag there. I hear her kicking off her shoes, then sighing as she sits on the bed. She’s definitely feeling it, even if she pretends not to since I’m the one who was more seriously injured.
“I’m going to fucking lose it if I have to sit here like this for the rest of my life.” He says it in a quiet voice, like he doesn’t want her to hear. That’s one thing we can agree on: keeping things as easy for her as we can. She’s gotten a few more messages since Tuesday, all through social media instead of via text. Whoever is doing this probably doesn’t want to run the risk of getting another phone call.
I wish I had been awake when Nix called that number. Maybe I could’ve recognized the voice, even if he swears I wouldn’t have been able to. There’s still a chance. But since then, the number they used has been disconnected, along with all the others we went through.
“Try to deal with it without making it her problem,” I remind him, since all we have in front of us now is a weekend spent together. The three of us, all in the same apartment, and I don’t need him throwing his attitude around. She’s doing her best to be strong, but neither of us can afford to forget how she broke down on Monday. It feels like it was so long ago.
It’s obvious when Leni wanders into the kitchen, moving slowly, that she’s hurting. “I’m really all right,” she insists when she catches us watching her. I can only guess Nix looks as worried as I feel. “I just got a little stiff sitting in class. You know how it is. It’s easier if you can keep moving.”
“You should probably soak in a hot tub,” Nix suggests. “That’s always the best way to loosen up when you’re injured. I could go run you a bath, if you want? Don’t you have all that smelly bubble stuff?”
She stares at him, blinking. “You mean bubble bath?”
“Yeah, whatever it’s called.” He’s just fucking around to make her laugh, which she does. The sound makes me feel warm inside.
He’s already off the sofa and on his way to the bathroom—he’s moving a little slow, too, but he’s trying to play it off. “Make sure you don’t add too much,” she warns.
“I think I can handle it.”
“You couldn’t remember that it was called bubble bath,” she reminds him, giggling, but one look at me cuts off her laughter before she takes on a guilty expression.
“It’s okay,” I murmur, standing and wrapping my arms around her waist when I return to the kitchen. “You’re allowed to laugh at his jokes. You have my permission.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just after that talk we had on Tuesday, in the hospital?—”
Whatever she’s about to say, I cut off with a kiss. It’s not like I needed to hear it, anyway. I know what’s going on in her head.
“Listen to me,” I tell her once I let her up for air, noticing how she looks a little dazed and unsteady. “The only way we can make it work, the three of us living together, is if we loosen up a little. We’re here to take care of each other, and that’s what we need to do, because we are all we have. Do you know what I’m saying?”
“Of course, you’re right.” She clicks her tongue, shaking her head at herself. “I need to lighten up. I just want to make sure you aren’t feeling weird about it or anything.”
Right now, it doesn’t matter what I feel. She is what matters. How can I get that through to her?
With the water running in the tub, I lead her toward the bathroom. Her eyes widen when we find Nix lighting a couple of candles. “That’s so nice,” she whispers, beaming. “Like going to a spa.”
“Sorry we don’t have cucumber water or any of that shit,” he jokes.
“Let me help you,” I offer, raising her arms over her head from behind and lifting her sweater. It’s not easy to touch her like this without my desire exploding in the most undeniable way, but that is not who she needs me to be right now. Loving her means taking care of her without always thinking about myself.
Even though her warmth and softness, and her sweet scent make me rigid, I unclasp her bra without copping a feel of her tits. And even though Nix can’t keep his eyes off her as I peel away one layer of clothes after another, he keeps his hands to himself. Somehow, he understands the way I do without us needing a discussion. Monday was only four days ago. She still needs time.
I can’t help staring at her body’s perfection before taking her by the hand and helping her into the tub, now full of fragrant bubbles. “Did I do a good job?” Nix sits on the edge of the tub, close to her head, while I sit near her knees.
“Perfect,” she tells him with a grin, resting the back of her neck against a folded towel, releasing a deep sigh as her eyes close. I couldn’t be happier to see her letting go, allowing herself to feel good. She’s done too much worrying lately, on top of everything else that plagues her.
We don’t have to talk about it, Nix and me. It’s like we’re moving in sync, connected by some psychic bond that guides us. When I run a hand over her knee, poking out from a mountain of bubbles, he strokes her hair back from her face with a gentle touch. I didn’t know he could be that gentle.
“That’s nice.” Slowly, her legs part, her breathing going deeper while Nix massages her temples, and I explore her smooth, slick skin. I could touch her forever and never get tired of it—I’m addicted to her, plain and simple. Not just to her body, but to her spirit.
Right now, though, it’s her body I’m most concerned with, the soft sighs that now accompany my slow, careful stroking of her inner thighs. Her chest and neck are starting to flush, and I don’t think it’s just from the warmth of the water.
Nix moves from rubbing her temples to massaging her shoulders. “That feels so good,” she moans, and my cock might snap in half if this keeps up. The soft sounds of her pleasure slowly grow louder, and louder still once I up the ante by stroking her bald, plump lips under the water’s surface.
“You like that?” Nix whispers, and I watch as his fingers press into her flesh until she moans again “That’s right. Just relax. Just feel it.”
“Don’t stop,” she begs, her lips parting so she can breathe, so she can moan.
“Not until you’re a good girl and come for us,” I whisper. Her hips move when I start running a finger along the length of her slit, teasing without touching her clit. Not yet. Not until she begs me to. I want to see how far we can take her. How much pleasure we can make her feel.
“You like when he touches you that way?” Nix’s hands slide over her chest, grazing the tight nipples that peek out over the surface of the water.
Her back arches in a sharp gasp that fills the air. “Oh, god,” she moans, and her hips move faster. Nothing in the world matters more than this, right here, this moment. Building her up, working her body.
“That’s right,” I tell her. “Let it out. Show us how good you feel.”
“I do,” she rasps, then moans when Nix pinches her nipple and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger.
That’s when I decide to drag a finger through her folds, stopping at her clit and moving in slow circles over it. Her eyes fly open, her moans echoing in the room. “Oh… Oh, yes… Yes,” she pants.
“What do you want him to do next?” Nix is breathing faster, grunting softly. His tongue glides over the curve of her ear until she moans again.
“I…” She shakes her head, whimpering.
“I won’t know what to do unless you tell me,” I warn, easing up on the pressure against her engorged clit, knowing it’ll drive her wild with frustration when I do. She needs to know she can control this. All we want is to give her pleasure.
Her frustrated groan makes us both chuckle darkly. She’s ours. She’ll always be ours.
“I want you to… fuck me with your fingers.” Moving her hips, she whimpers, “Please.”
“Like this?” I work one finger inside, then a second, still thumbing her clit as I massage her slick walls. She’s whimpering, almost sobbing, the water splashing with every desperate jerk of her hips.
“Yes, just like that.” Her voice is tight, strained. “I love it. Yes, don’t stop.”
“How’s that pussy feel?” Nix asks me.
“Getting tighter,” I announce, working faster, going deeper as my knuckles hit her swollen flesh with every stroke. Her cries rise in pitch and desperation until she’s squealing, almost shrieking, humping my hand until finally, she clenches tight and goes still with her mouth hanging open, her eyes squeezed shut.
And then it breaks with an ecstatic cry before she sinks back into the tub, panting weakly. I still feel her pulsing around me, fluttering in the aftermath, and I help her ride it out as long as I can before she relaxes with a happy sigh.
I don’t know why, but there’s a sense of pride that rears up in me as I look down at her, crashed out in the tub, dizzy and breathless after what we made her do. “Wow,” she sighs, her lips curving in a satisfied smile.
Nix presses a kiss against her temple before standing up. The sight of his bulge sticking out in front of him tells me he’s going through it the way I am, wanting to do more, holding himself back. It’s for her sake, and I can’t imagine anyone else I’d suffer this kind of discomfort for. Self-control has never been my thing, and I sure as hell know that’s true for my brother.
But she’s worth it. I’m starting to wonder if she has what it takes to turn us into the men we’re capable of becoming.
I keep my thoughts to myself, pondering the idea while Leni finishes her bath. Once she’s done, we help her from the tub and dry her off before wrapping her in a fluffy robe.
“What else would you like to do tonight?” I ask with a wicked grin that makes her blush.
“Right now, I feel like I could go to sleep—but I don’t want to,” she adds when I’m about to tell her to do that. “Maybe we could finish watching the show we started on Tuesday?”
“You know, I was just wondering how the contestants did during bread week,” Nix muses. The funny thing is, I can’t tell if he’s serious or joking. He did seem sort of into it.
“Then I guess that’s what we do,” I decide. “Let’s order some Chinese from the place around the corner. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten it from there.”
It helps that she likes it so much and that her face lights up the way it does. What is it about her that leaves me scrambling around, trying to come up with ways to make her happier?
She’s Leni. It’s as simple as that.
Within the hour, we’re back where we started a few days ago, watching TV together, now sharing food from the takeout containers arranged on the coffee table.
“I don’t understand why they can’t give these people air conditioning when it’s hot outside,” Leni mumbles around a mouthful of lo mein. “They want them to sculpt chocolate, but everything’s melting. How are they supposed to compete under these conditions?”
I have to grin at how serious she takes it, and Nix is smiling when he meets my gaze over the top of her head.
And just like back on Tuesday, before all hell broke loose, I wonder if we could make this last. The three of us here, living together, sharing each other’s lives. Me and my brother focused on making her happy. Could we make it work?
Feeling the way I do right now, I hope we do. I really hope we do.