Chapter 27
27
Colt Bishop
T he top button of his shirt is undone, revealing a sneak peek of the salt and pepper smattering of hair I know is underneath it all. Just a little bit, though. A tease . Left hand shoved into the pocket of his Chinos, his right is holding a rocks glass filled with just about three fingers of my father’s favorite whiskey.
Clenching my jaw, I bring the glass up to my lips, letting the amber liquid flood my mouth. It’s smooth as it heats a path down my throat, my gaze locked on the man across the room who I haven’t been able to take my eyes off since he walked through the front door fifteen minutes ago. He looks casual tonight. Relaxed. A smile stretches his cheeks as he chuckles at whatever my father is telling him, but every once in a while I’ll catch his eyes flitting in my direction. Only for a split second, though.
It's been a couple of weeks since I stormed out of his house, and we haven’t spoken since. I want to say I’m dealing with it, and that it’s not driving me nuts, but that would be a lie. William is on my mind all the fucking time, and it’s irritating. He won’t leave. And what’s even more annoying is the fact that I’m probably not even on his mind at all. William’s probably living his life like nothing ever happened, if that carefree grin on his face as he chats it up with my father is any indication.
It was so fucking easy for him to put a stop to this, like it meant nothing to him. He was constantly trying to fight against it; I should’ve known. What a fucking idiot I was for chasing him like some pathetic puppy. Maybe he was right, after all. Maybe I am too young. Maybe we have nothing in common. And besides that, my job takes me away for a chunk of the year—assuming I’ll make it onto the circuit again—so maybe we never would’ve worked.
Maybe I was fooling myself.
But then a larger part of me says maybe I wasn’t. Maybe we could’ve been good together if William was able to get over his own shit. Not that I’ll ever know now.
Scoffing to myself, I rip my eyes away from him and head into the kitchen, where my mother is slicing potatoes. She informed me earlier this week that she’d like to start having weekly family dinners on Sundays now that I’m back in my own place again. I love the idea because one, I could eat my mom’s cooking all day, every day and never get sick of it, and two, I knew they’d invite William, and call me a glutton for punishment, but I wanted to be around him. See if being near me affected him. See if maybe I could fuck with him a little.
But now that I’m here, and it seems like he’s doing just fucking fine, I’m regretting my entire plan. I should’ve just stayed home. Or better yet, gone over to Shooter’s house and got drunk watching football.
“Hi, honey,” my mom says softly.
“Need any help?” Reaching over her, I grab a small glob of shredded cheddar cheese, tossing it in my mouth. She’s making scalloped potatoes, my favorite.
“I think I got it, but thank you.” Brushing her hair out of her face with the back of her hand, she smiles up at me. “Could you maybe just check on the ham for me?”
“Sure.”
Opening the oven, the heat and aroma from the honey glazed meat wafts over to me. It smells incredible. I add a little more water to the pan before shutting the door. “It smells good, Mom.”
She wipes her hands on her apron, grinning. “Thank you, baby. You doing okay?”
My brows knit together. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
“You seem a little off today. A little quieter than normal. Just wanted to make sure.” Closing the distance between us, she brings her hand up to my arm, squeezing. “I’m always here if you need to talk. I know I’m just your mom, and you may think I don’t understand what you’re going through, but I was there for your father when he was injured, and I know how hard it can be mentally. But I’m here for you.”
“I know, thanks, Mom.”
What does it say about me that riding is the furthest thing from my mind lately? That I’ve been so wrapped up in this shit with William to even be upset about my injury. I can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing, but it’s true.
“And for what it’s worth,” she adds. “You seem to be healing very nicely. I have no doubt that you’ll be able to compete next season if you keep it up.”
I smile, knowing it probably looks as forced as it feels. “Let’s hope so.”
“I love you, Colt, and I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished. You’re a good man.”
Swallowing around the lump forming in my throat, I say, “I love you too.”
I’ve never been an overly emotional, in touch with my feelings type of guy, but the last few months I have been, and I don’t get it. Nor do I like it. I’m blaming it on my injury and the fact that I’ve had a lot more downtime to think about things. Feelings are not all they’re cracked up to be, especially when I’m standing in the kitchen with my mom feeling my nose tingle and my throat tighten, like her telling me she is proud of me may actually make me fucking cry or something.
Fuck that.
“Hey, I’ll be right back. I’m heading up to my room for a minute. Think I left something in there when I moved back into my place.”
Suddenly, I feel so overwhelmed. Like the weight of the fucking world is sitting right on my chest, making me feel like I can’t drag in any air. What is going on with me? That’s not the first time my mother has told me she loves me or that she’s proud of me, so why is it hitting me so fucking hard? Blowing past my dad and William, I bound up the stairs, taking them two at a time before I make it down the hall to my old bedroom. Once the door is shut, I let out the breath I’d been holding, resting my back against the hard wood.
You’re a good man.
Am I, though? Would she still think I was a good man if she knew what I’d done with the man downstairs? Would she still think I was a good man if she knew how much I wanted to do it again and again? Is William right? Is what we were doing wrong? Crossing the space, I sit on the edge of my bed, elbows rested on my knees as my head hangs between my shoulders .
I shouldn’t have come today. Should’ve told my mom I was sick, and that I’d make it to the next Sunday dinner. Based on the way that William was in my every waking—and sleeping—thought, I had a feeling I was in way deeper than I’d originally intended. Clearly, I’ve developed feelings for the guy, just like Shooter had said. God, I fucking hate when that cocky bastard is right.
When the hell did that happen?
And how the hell did it happen?
This is not me. I don’t crush on people. Don’t get caught up in my feelings for them. Hell, I don’t do feelings at all when it comes to sex. Sex has always been about fun for me. For release.
My head snaps up as the door creaks open. William walks in, a solemn look on his face as he closes it behind him. Standing up, I cross my arms over my chest. “What the hell are you doing in here?” There’s a bite to my words that takes me by surprise. “You don’t think it’ll be a little suspicious when my dad comes looking for you and finds you in here?”
“Your mom sent him to the store for some milk and a few other things. Apparently, she didn’t have enough to make the sauce.”
My heart clenches as he steps farther into the room. He stops before he’s too close to me. Maybe an arm’s length away. “Okay, and where exactly does my mom think you are?”
“The bathroom. I asked if she needed any help, and she shooed me out of the kitchen.”
“What are you doing in here?”
William’s close enough that I catch a whiff of his rich mahogany scent, and it makes my head fuzzy. His ocean eyes gaze at me imploringly before he utters, “I’m sorry, Colt.”
The apology takes me by surprise, and for a moment, I don’t know what to say. “What? Sorry for what?”
Taking another step closer, my breath hitches at his new proximity. His eyes dip down to my mouth before coming back up. “For everything I said at my house the last time you were there. I was freaked out over getting caught by your friend, and I lashed out. I didn’t mean any of it.”
I let his words wash over me as my breaths come a little quicker. I want to take comfort in them, lean into them, but something makes anger flare in my gut. “If you’re so sorry and you didn’t mean it, then why the hell didn’t you reach out to me? It’s been radio silence from you since I left that night.”
William sighs. “I want to say it was because I was trying to give you space. You made it clear that night that you were upset—and rightfully so—but I think if I’m being honest with myself—and you—it’s probably because I’m still very nervous about all of this.”
“Yeah, you made that perfectly clear before.”
“I know,” he murmurs. “But I’m having a hard time with the way I feel about you lately, and the guilt that comes from knowing I’m keeping something from Max. I pride myself on being an honest man and a good friend, and I feel like I’m not being either of those things right now.”
Biting down on my molars, I breathe out harshly through my nostrils. “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing that whatever this was between us is over.”
Something like disappointment passes through William’s eyes, but that can’t be right. Why would he be disappointed when he was the one to put a stop to this. But that’s confirmed when he places his hand on my hip and steps even closer. My breath hitches.
“That’s the thing… I don’t want it to be over. ”
What?
My heart pounds so powerfully, I’m certain William can hear it with how close he is to me. I don’t say anything; I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. My throat is tight, mouth dry as I gape at him.
“I made a mistake, Colt,” he goes on. “I let my fear get the best of me, but I miss you.”
I miss you… Those three words nearly stop my heart.
I square my shoulders, biting down on my tongue hard enough to make it bleed. “Well, that’s too bad. You were right when you ended it. It’s for the best.” The words are like chalk in my mouth. I don’t mean them, but my pride won’t let me back down. He hurt me that night, even if I refuse to admit it, and I don’t take kindly to being hurt, especially when it’s not that easy to get under my skin. Not much gets to me. The same way William prides himself on being an honest man, I pride myself on being easygoing and generally happy.
The grip he has on my hip tightens, sending a layer of goosebumps all over my body, and the way he’s looking at me—intense and desperate—has me wanting to look away. But I don’t. I can’t. It’s like William’s got me under some sort of spell.
“You don’t mean that,” he grits out.
“Yes. I do.” The words sound weak even to my own ears. How is it possible that he can read me so damn well? What is happening to me?
His brows dip inward. “Colt, please.”
It feels like thick, wet concrete is coating my throat as I swallow. The backs of my eyes sting, and I grit my teeth before muttering, “We can’t.”
William works his jaw, his gaze hardening. “Like hell we can’t,” he growls, the gruff sound of his voice startling me and exciting me all at the same time. The hand holding my hip snakes around my back, hauling my body into his as his other hand comes up, cupping the back of my neck. His mouth is on mine before my mind even has a chance to catch up. Lips harsh and unforgiving, his tongue surges into my mouth, wholly owning mine, kissing me like his life depends on it. My head is dizzy, heart thrashing behind my ribs as my hands come up, fingers gripping the front of his shirt. I’m not even sure if I’m trying to hold him to me or push him away, not that I have much of a choice with the way he’s holding on to me. I’m trapped in his grip, and in this moment, I don’t even fucking care.
Eventually, my body relaxes and melts into his touch, and I tilt my head, letting him take the kiss deeper. His tongue glides against mine, and his taste explodes in my mouth. The whiskey he was drinking, and the sheer hunger he has for me, are potent and intoxicating all at once. Heat sears down my spine, pooling in my groin, and before long, my cock is rock hard and aching behind my pants. I’m desperate for more, and like William can read my mind, he rips his mouth from mine as he drops to his knees before me.
Holy shit.
My gaze darts over to the door behind him, noting that he somehow managed to lock it when he came in here without me noticing. That dirty fucking man. Shit, that’s hot. His movements are hurried as he gets the button and zipper down on my jeans, wasting no time pulling my stiff length out. Something about the way he doesn’t even bother sliding my pants down just really fucking does it for me.
Peering up at me from beneath his lashes, he fists my shaft as he takes the tip of my cock into his mouth. His wet heat wraps around me, feeling like heaven as his tongue swirls around.
“Fuck, you look damn good on your knees for me, D.” My voice is guttural, a groan vibrating from my chest as he sinks down further, taking more of me, not stopping until I’m seated in his throat. He swallows around the head, the tightness making my eyes roll back. There’s no easing into this, no taking his time. William sucks me down like it would kill him to go another second not consuming me. He takes me deep and sucks me hard, like he’s making up for lost time. Like he’s making sure I know how sorry he is.
William moans, his mouth stuffed full, and the sound sends vibrations through my whole body. I thread my fingers through his thick, styled hair, gripping the strands but letting him control the pace. He looks so fucking sexy, taking me in his mouth like that. Wet, red-rimmed eyes, flushed cheeks, swollen lips stretched wide.
“Pull yourself out,” I rasp. “Let me see how you stroke your fat cock while you swallow mine down.”
As if he was waiting for permission, he hurries up and opens his pants, stuffing a hand inside to pull himself out, and just as I figured, he’s already hard and ready to go. My mouth waters at the sight, even more so when he wraps a tight fist around the shaft, pumping his hand up and down as he continues to throat me.
“That’s it,” I moan, taking in the sight. “You like sucking my cock, don’t you?”
He nods, humming around my length.
“It gets you off, doesn’t it?”
Another nod.
I cluck my tongue at him, smirking as I gaze at him down my nose. “Choking on the cock of your best friend’s son. What a filthy fucking man you are.”
William moans, his eyelids fluttering closed. The entire length of my body is one long strip of live wire. My skin tingles, my chest is tight, and flames swim through my veins. Everything about this moment has my head dizzy, like I’m floating.
My muscles tighten, and I know I’m not going to last much longer. Not with the view I’m graced with.
“You wanna swallow my cum, Doc?” Another moan as he nods. His fist is flying up and down his cock now, and I’m desperate to see him let go. Watch him explode. “Eyes up here,” I growl, and his gaze immediately finds mine. “Look me in the fucking eyes as I come. God, your mouth feels so good. That’s it, mmm … fuck, that’s good.”
My release hits me like a hurricane, taking hold of my body as I empty myself down his throat. I cry out, unable to care about how loud I’m being. Wave after wave crashes into me as my orgasm feels never ending. I swear I even black out for a moment. William pulls off my mouth, standing up as he shoves me onto my knees. My lips part, tongue sticking out as I peer up at him. His fist is steady, working his cock over, and I know he’s near the edge. He’s falling apart, and it’s a beautiful fucking sight.
“You drive me crazy,” he growls, eyes swimming with lust as they bore into me. The tip of his cock brushes along my tongue as he strokes himself, the salty flavor of his arousal spilling onto it. It floods my senses, and I’m dying for more. For it all. “I can’t get enough of you. Even when I know I should stay away, I can’t. I don’t want to. Fuck, I’m coming.” He groans, deep and throaty, as his release coats my tongue, spurt after spurt of hot liquid flooding my mouth. Once he’s finished, he drags the underside of his cock along the mess he made, gazing down at me with a sated look in his eyes. “Swallow.” The single word is a deep growl that sends a shiver down my spine, and I gladly oblige, drinking him down like I’ve wanted to for weeks.
William’s chest heaves as he fights to catch his breath, and after a moment, I stand up, tucking myself back into my jeans, and zipping them up. He does the same before running a hand through his now-mussed up hair. Movement catches out the window, and I notice my father pulling back into the driveway. I chuckle to myself. Perfect timing. Now that the reality of what just happened sets in, I can’t help but wonder if William meant what he said or if he was simply looking for a quick nut. The air around us turns tense, and I wonder if he feels it too. Suddenly, I’m too nervous to look at him. So, I don’t. Instead, I walk to the other side of the room, checking myself in the mirror above the dresser to make sure I look put together. We’re clearly going to have to go back downstairs in a minute, and I can’t exactly look like I just had my mind—and cock—blown.
“Colt,” William murmurs softly. “Can you look at me, please?”
Steeling my spine, I turn around and, reluctantly, meet his gaze. I expect to see regret in his expression, but I don’t. Not at all. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. If anything, the look he’s giving me is full of warmth and adoration. It takes me aback, especially when he closes the distance between us and takes my hand in his.
“Eventually, we will have to tell him,” he says, not needing to elaborate. I know who him is. “There’s no way around it, especially because I clearly can’t stay away.”
Swallowing thickly, I nod.
“But not yet. I want to enjoy and explore whatever this is with you before he puts in his two cents. Is that okay? ”
My pulse races, hearing him admit to wanting to explore this more. Hearing I’ve been on his mind as much as he’s been on mine.
“William, I’ve never once pushed you to tell my dad. All I’ve wanted is for you to let go of this notion that we shouldn’t be doing this. So, yes, that’s okay with me.”
“Hey, William?” The muffled sound of my father’s voice downstairs filters up, and we both stiffen at the same time.
“Shit,” William mutters under his breath. “What do we do?”
A flash of something passes through William’s eyes, and just like that, I’m second guessing if he’ll actually be able to go through with this. If I mean enough to him to be honest with my dad. It’s a punch to the gut.
He must see my doubt written all over my face, because his brows pinch together as he slips his hand into mine, tugging me closer. “Hey, don’t go there,” he says softly, like he can read every thought in my mind. “I mean it, I want to do this with you, and I want to tell him about us, but right now is not the right time. That doesn’t mean I don’t want this. We will tell him, I promise.”
Leaning in, William captures my lips in a sweet, gentle kiss that makes my chest squeeze and somehow makes me feel that much better.
“You go downstairs first,” I tell him. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
“How do I explain being up here?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be the smarty pants doctor here?”
He stares at me, deadpan, making me chuckle. “Colt. Be serious, please.”
“Just tell him you were using the bathroom up here because you didn’t want to blow up the main one downstairs.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs. “Colt, I’m not going to tell him that. That’s ridiculous.”
“Fine.” I shrug. “Then tell him you were on your knees, gagging on his son’s cock. Because that’s definitely less ridiculous.”
“I’m leaving now,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes at me.
Before he can pull away, I tighten my grip on his hand, pulling him into me. Pressing another quick kiss against his lips, I whisper, “Thanks for the head, Doc.”
A smile forms, brightening his face, and it makes my chest tighten. “Come downstairs in a few minutes,” is all he says before he leaves.
I watch him go. Wow. That was not how I envisioned today going. Time to go have dinner with my parents while pretending my dick wasn’t just in their friend’s mouth. Should be easy enough, right?