44. Colt
Freak Me - Another Level
Our depraved date in Pigeon Creek wasn’t exactly a roaring success, so I take her to The Manchester again—it’s one of four hotels we own in Saskatoon.
Mostly, it’s my end destination because neither of us is dressed up enough for a swanky restaurant, and the perk of owning an establishment is you can use it however the hell you want.
She’s not as quiet as I feared she’d be on the ride into the city.
If anything, she’s chatty.
I have a feeling that this whole experience weighs more heavily on me than it does her, but it’s undoubtedly guilt talking.
I perpetrated her treatment, something I’ve witnessed for myself several times by this point. Sure, I gave her an alibi. I didn’t do anything else, though. Didn’t tell the town to leave her alone.
“I heard Ida say you were driving to the border on Saturday,” she says, breaking into my thoughts.
“Yeah. I go every now and then.”
“Why?”
“Ever heard of Dove Bay Sanctuary?”
“I have actually. Some CATSA agent at the airport gave me the number when Tee had this meltdown at security.”
“She thought you needed sanctuary from me?!”
“No. It was a misunderstanding,” she assures me.
“Should hope so. Jesus.”
“What about it?”
“I own it. The sanctuary, I mean.” I clear my throat. “Mrs. Abelman runs it, but I help with some of the more sinister cases. This weekend, there’ll be a drop-off. A politician’s wife managed to get away earlier this week.”
She sits taller in her seat. “Oh, my God! And you’re going to bring her to the ranch?”
“To one of our bunkhouses,” I correct. “You might have seen it. It’s over in the southwest quadrant.”
“It’s in the middle of nowhere. Right?”
“Yeah. They both are, but only one is visible from the house.”
“I wondered what was going on there.” She twists to face me. “I’m coming with you.”
“When?”
“This weekend. We can pick her up together.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“Sure I do. She might be terrified of you. Another woman’s presence might help her.”
Her tone’s somber but deadly serious so I shrug. “Fine. If you’re sure.”
“Of course I am. Holy crap, I knew you were perfect but this is so you. Just wait until I tell Tee?—”
“Why are you telling Tee?”
“Because she was ready to canonize you before, but now you might just become her version of the pope.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“High compliment. Trust me.”
“Oh, I do. Keep it on the down low though. We function best in secrecy.”
“But you’re telling me…?”
“Of course. You’re my wife.” I glance at her out of the corner of my eye and see her coy smile at my declaration. So I snag her hand and kiss her knuckles. “We’re almost there.”
“Where’s there?”
“The Manchester.”
“I loved that hotel! This depraved date is hitting all the right notes.”
“Give me time and we’ll make music together.”
“Smooth, Colt, very smooth,” she teases.
Laughing, I drive into the underground parking lot where we have some private spaces rather than wait for valet service when we reach the hotel.
“You might not have noticed before but they’re going to be obsequious in here,” I tell her as I slot my arm along the back of the passenger seat and use it to stare out the rearview window as I reverse into the space.
“They are?”
“It’s a Korhonen property.”
“You own The Manchester?!”
“Clyde’s a moron in many ways, but he sometimes makes the right decisions. The hotel is a part of Seven Cs’ investment portfolio.”
“Or he takes good financial advice.”
“Yeah, we’ll go with that option.”
“No compliments for him allowed,” she agrees with a cackle. “I didn’t realize it was your hotel when you brought us here for our wedding night.”
“It wasn’t relevant.”
A smirk dances on lips I want to devour. “I can deal with being the owner’s dirty little secret.”
I rub my thumb over her rings. “How are you a dirty little secret?”
“The staff won’t know I’m your wife, will they? Unless you have a newsletter that goes out with family announcements in it. They might think I’m your mistress—this is the second time you’ve brought me around…”
“Fair point,” I mock as I lean in. “But I’ll let you onto something that is a secret.”
She leans in too. The faint scent of her musky perfume hits me and makes me want to bury my face in her throat. “What is it?”
“I’m going to introduce you as my wife.” I tap her nose. “That way they’ll know you’re their boss as well.”
“That’s boring!”
“The truth often is.”
She ignores my teasing. “We could have a whole moment, Colt!”
“You want to be Julia Roberts to my Richard Gere, huh?”
Her eyes close. “You’ve watched Pretty Woman?”
“My brothers are Cole and Callan, sweetheart. I’ve seen more rom-coms than I would like to admit to.”
Those crazy long lashes of hers flutter. “Stop being perfect.”
I hide a smile. “Wanna watch it together?”
“It’s my favorite movie so, yes. But don’t tell Tee. She’s already jealous of Callan. If she thinks she has to share her favorite movie with you too, she’ll end up moving in when she comes to visit for the BBQ.”
“She can if she wants.”
“Huh?”
“She can stay with us for a while if she wants. Not like we don’t have plenty of room.”
“Yeah, but…”
“But?”
She blinks. “Guys don’t let BFFs move in with them.”
“Have you seen the size of our house? And anyway, she makes you happy and I think, from what you’ve said, she isn’t doing so well in New York. She reminds me of Callan, to be honest.”
“She does?”
“Yeah. All big feelings with no vent. It’s like their brains know too much so they feel too much and see too much. Vicious circle. People like that have a person they can depend on. I’m that for Callan and you’re that for Tee.”
“She’s not a burden,” she argues.
“I never said she was.” I settle a look at her. “Callan’s not a burden either.
“Ask her. She can if she wants. If she doesn’t, she can go back to New York.”
“You’re nuts.”
“About you,” I counter, pressing another kiss to her knuckles. “I want you to be happy here.”
Her eyes grow round as she stares at me, then, in an explosive flash of movement, she’s suddenly sitting on my lap in the truck, straddling me, hands clutching at my arms, mouth on a collision course with mine.
She tastes better than those cookies she makes—sweet and sinful. I could eat her up every day for the rest of my life and die a happy man.
My hands settle on her ass as she grinds into me, but it’s how she thrusts her tongue against mine that has me rocking back because damn, I stoked a fire in her I didn’t know I was building.
A whimper escapes her as she breaks off the kiss to pepper my face with smaller ones. She graces my nose, my cheeks, my chin, my brows, and my closed eyelids in the most tender experience of my life.
She showers me in gratitude, exuding it like that perfume of hers laces every breath I take, but gratitude wasn’t why I offered to let Tee move in with us.
Pigeon Creek is enemy territory for her.
I don’t want her to leave.
I’m being selfish.
But, I figure, a man’s allowed to be selfish when it’s centered on keeping the woman he loves happy.
Because I do—there’s no way this mass of feeling in me is anything but love.
Not friendship love like when I was younger.
But the big passion the poets write about and the artists paint.
The love that’s impossible to describe and define.
That is what I feel for her.
When my eyes drift open, I see tear tracks on her cheeks and frown at the sight. “Hey, what’s this?” I ask, stroking my thumb through one of the glistening lines.
“You’re being so kind and I?—”
“I’m not being kind,” I argue. “I’m being smart.”
“You are?”
I slide my other hand to the center of her back and tug her into me. “Right here is where I want you, Zee. With me. A piece of your heart is in New York City. It’s in my best interests that Tee moves back.”
“Why?”
I tip her chin so I can press a kiss to it. “Because then you won’t go, won’t think about leaving. You’ll be here. Where I need you.”
Zee licks her lips as she stares into my eyes. “I don’t want to go.”
“Good.” I nuzzle my nose along the line of her jaw. “I want you to be my wife, Zee.”
“I thought I was?”
“You are. But I want you to be mine for real.” She shivers when I nip her earlobe. “Do you want that too, baby?”
“You know I do.” It’s a keening cry that settles right in my dick. “I’ve always wanted you, Colton. Always.” Her arms tighten around me. “I’ve been waiting for you to want me.”
“You can feel that for yourself, can’t you?”
“I can. God, I need you inside me, Colton. Now. Please.”
“In the truck?”
“Right now.” She growls the confirmation, her hands finding her fly as she unfastens the button.
The logistics are hard for my brain to figure out, but I push back my seat as far as it’ll go then turn her on my lap so that she’s facing the windshield.
She wriggles her hips, nudging my cock with every pass, then I realize she’s yanking down her jeans to her knees. “Wear skirts next time, dumb, dumb, dumb Zee,” she mutters to herself.
Before she can continue, my hand slides around her throat, my other arm banding at her waist as I drag her into me.
Letting the words tickle her ear, I rasp, “Why are you talking down about my wife?”
Her head wiggles beneath my grip, and I let go when I realize what I did, but her fingers slap over mine, holding firm as if she likes the pressure there.
A part of me’s horrified by the aggressive act, flashbacks from my childhood only adding to the terror, but she whimpers. “God, that feels good.”
I stare straight ahead, trying to get my brain in gear, but all I can rumble is, “Is that what I asked?”
“No. You asked about…” She moans. “I’m so wet.”
The urge to feel how wet she is reigns supreme because I’m clearly the only one freaking out here.
“I asked why you were calling yourself dumb.”
“Because if I was smart, you’d be able to feel how wet I am,” she retorts with a sniff. “I don’t talk smack to myself, Colton, not unless it’s deserved, and in this instance, it is.”
The bite in those words talks me away from the proverbial edge.
My fingers flex, allowing me to monitor her stuttering pulse. She’d only let me do this if she trusted me. I have to find comfort in that.
“Feel what you do to me, Colt.”
I know exactly how she’s feeling.
For a second, I close my eyes, but then she grabs the arm I banded around her waist and tugs at it. The demand is silent, but I comply nonetheless. Like a man being happily led to his doom, my fingers cup her mound where the soft hairs prickle my palm as I let them swoop down to cover her sex.
I can already feel her excitement and my dick pounds in glee.
It’s probably the only part of me that wasn’t disgusted by how I caught hold of her.
Her hips arch. “Colton! Please!”
My response to her plea is automatic—I tunnel a digit between her folds, shifting until it’s sliding directly over her clit.
Fuck, the sounds she makes should be criminal.
How my body responds is as inevitable as the passing of time.
“This little pussy’s hungry for me, hmm?”
She chokes off a sigh. “God, yes. Please, Colt. Please.” Pressing into me, she wriggles when I don’t rub her clit. “That feels so good. More. Please, more.”
I grit my teeth as her nails bite into the hand that’s holding her close. “You want to come, baby?”
“I do. I so do.”
A glance at the private parking area reassures me that no one will see into the cab, that no one will see what’s mine.
Not her pleasure, but Zee.
Mine.
The two sides of my brain go to war.
Colton—reasonable, polite, apathetic.
Colt—the man. The leader. The husband.
The second is the one who grinds out, “Who does this pretty pussy belong to?”
A cry escapes her. “You. Always you.”
And that’s what I’ve needed to hear for years.
I just didn’t know it until now.
She’s always been mine.
Always.
Drenching my fingers in her, I retreat to her clit and give her what she begged for—me.
I want her pleasure. Now.
I want to hear her cries. Now.
I want to feel her response to me. Now.
It’s deliciously immediate.
She grows tense on my lap, her limbs locking up as she jerkily rides my fingers, and when she releases a hoarse cry as she clamps her thighs around my hand, I know she got off.
The butt of my wrist finds the tender nub next as I thrust two thick digits into her. “You’re so tight.” I groan. “I can’t wait to fill you up.”
Her moan is guttural. “That’s all I want.”
“All?” I half-tease.
“Yes,” she hisses, then she proves that even in this state, she knows me too well. “Don’t tease me!”
I spread her wider, feeling the walls flutter around me. “Only my dick’ll do?”
Her nails swipe at the fingers still holding her throat in place. “Yes.” Another hiss. “Give it to me.”
“You’re bossy when you’re riled up, huh?” I rumble in her ear, biting the lobe this time as I simultaneously fuck her with my hand.
Though she yelps, it doesn’t stop her mumbling, “Your cock, Colt. I need it. Give it to me. God, your fingers… they don’t… Deeper. Please. Jesus?—”
Fired up, I release my hold on her. Entirely. Before she can so much as release a cry of complaint, I’m lifting her onto my lap.
When her head bumps the roof, I cringe, “Sorry, babe.”
She rubs the point of collision but she’s smiling which eases my guilt. “You wanna rub it better, cowboy?”
“I’ll rub something better.”
“Promises, promises.” She winks. “You should have warned me this would be where we’d end up. I wouldn’t have worn skinny jeans.”
“But your ass looks so great in them.”
“You feel like cutting them off me?”
“Not if you want to go into the hotel. I’m the owner, but you’d still face indecency charges.”
“I thought I was the Mrs. Korhonen.” She grunts as she rolls the tight denim down her calves, and her cry of, “A-ha!” tells me she liberated herself from the jeans. “Doesn’t that mean I can do anything I want?”
I slide my hand over her stomach and drag her into me. “You think I’m going to let anyone see what’s mine?”
“Fuck,” she whispers, wriggling more but this time with the intent to twist around.
I yelp when she comes within an inch of kneeing me in the balls.
“Oops! Sorry.”
“You’re not sorry at all.”
“I am. I have a use for the family jewels and squishing them isn’t one of them.”
“Good to know,” I rasp.
With her sex spread, I rub my knuckles over it, making sure to pinch her clit between my fingers on my way to unfastening my fly where I draw out my cock.
Before I can tease her again, she’s there—her hand around me, stroking me, jerking me off. The pressure’s lighter, but it’s better than anything I can do.
“Wait,” I order when I sense her getting ready to put me in her.
“What now?” she whines.
“Condom.”
I lift my hips to release my wallet from my back pocket, snagging the condom I tucked inside earlier, groaning as our sexes brush.
“Fuck,” I bite off as I pass it to her and she rolls it on me. Then, wasting no time at all, she rocks forward, notching the tip to her sex, sliding it through her folds, getting me wet with her before I feel that emptiness that’s begging to be filled.
Her eyes lock on mine as, slowly, her pussy swallows the head of my dick.
I grind my teeth when she whimpers.
Inch by inch, she cries out. Tensing and softening. Flowing and rippling all around me.
It’s torment, but what a way to go.
I don’t push her or rush her. Just let her take her time.
Mostly because I know she’s not teasing me.
She might be slick, but she’s tight. Even more so in this position. Her nails tell their own tale as they dig into my shoulders, scraping and scratching as she sinks onto me.
Finally, every inch is claimed of that incomparable, delicious wet heat.
I slide my arms around her bare waist, dragging her into me, not wanting an inch of space to separate us. “You feel so fucking good, Zee.”
Her ass wiggles from side to side before she moves in a figure eight, which has both of us moaning.
One of her hands slides over my scalp, letting me feel her claws there too as she tips my head back and joins our mouths.
Perfection.
Heaven.
Nothing like it.
No one.
Just her.
She’s all I can see, feel, hear, smell, and taste.
She’s all I want.
Everything.
It’s her.
All her.
She clings to me, seeming to sense the ground-shaking revelation that hit me, and through it, she rides me until both of us are crying out our mutual releases as we come.
Together.
Her pussy milks me dry with the ripples from a climax that has her clamping around me and shuddering with pleasure, but my brain’s hardwired into thinking of what we could have cemented into place here today…
Something we didn’t lock down when we were here for our wedding night:
A future.
A marriage.
An ‘us.’