I cry for the person I am now. Who doesn’t know if I should hate my mom for leaving me. If she really did abandon me or if I wanted her to have or not.
“You don’t have to do it on your own. Let me take some of the weight, baby.”
But he has so much already. “You have your own problems.”
“We’ll share each other’s.”
My hand tightens in his hair and I keep crying. Colt doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t rush me. Just holds me like he’s done so many times before.
Finally after what feels like an eternity, my tears stop.
It must be really early morning because the sun is beginning to rise, little flecks of light started to break through the blinds on his window.
I look at Colt. His eyes look red. From lack of sleep or maybe from something else. I don’t know. His hand cups my cheek. “You okay?” he finally asks. We’re close. So close as I sit on this lap.
“Yeah…thank you.”
“I’m fucking good at this boyfriend shit. Who would have thought?” Boyfriend. I like the sound of that. I give him a small smile because it’s all I can muster. I appreciate the attempt though.
I suddenly need him more than my next breath. To feel him in a way I’ve never felt anyone else. Yes, we’ve done this before. I’ve done it before. But this will be different.
“Please…” I try to climb closer to him. Inside him. “I need you.”
“Chey…”
“No. Don’t do that. It’s okay. Nothing’s changed.”
We both know that’s a lie. Everything’s changed, but not in the way he’s thinking.
“I love you,” I say again, this time completely awake and in control of my words.
He presses his lips gently to mine. “You too…”
I gasp a little, shocked that he said it. No he didn’t use the word love, but it’s close enough.
“I told you earlier too.” He seems to read my mind.
“I didn’t hear you.”
When he stands up, I whimper thinking he’s going to walk away. Colt crooks his finger at me. “Come here, Tiny Dancer.”
My heart raps frantically against my chest. Heat floods my body. I look at him.
And stand.
~CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE~
Colt
I’m being a prick again, but I can’t seem to stop myself. She just told me about a man putting his hands on her and here I am about to strip her bare and do the same thing. I should just hold her at a time like this, but Christ, I want her and she wants me too.
That has to make it okay.
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” I tell her, hoping that makes it okay.
“I know.”
My hands slip to her waist. I push her shirt up and then pull it over her head. Her yellow bra contrasts against her dark skin. It’s so sexy.
I suddenly feel like a jerk because she’s slept in these clothes all night. I should have undressed her earlier. It had to have been uncomfortable.
Leaning forward, I tease her lips open with my tongue. I need to taste her. Feel her as she takes a dip and tastes me too. It’s so fucking crazy being here with her like this. We’ve had sex before, but this is different, which makes me feel like a pussy for thinking, but I don’t care.
This girl is mine. I’ve had quite a few girls before, but none of them were mine. I didn’t want them a part of me, to keep them, and with her I want nothing more than to keep her safe and keep her with me all the time.
Our mouths continue to lick and suck and tease at each other as I work the clasps on her bra. I swear she fucking purrs against my mouth as it falls to the floor.
I pull away because there’s no way I can’t not look at her right now. At her slender body, all dark and toned. “You’re so sexy.”
This gets a smirk out of her. Her hands are on me now, pushing my shirt off. I’m so hard for her. I’m about to make love to this girl. Damn that sounds stupid thinking of it that way, but it’s true.
And I can’t wait anymore.
I wrestle with her pants, pushing them down. Her panties match her bra in color and the fact that I want them off her and on the floor.
Mine come next. We’re both grabbing at them and laughing. Fucking laughing because we’re in such a hurry to have each other. It’s never been like this—with her or anyone else.
I grab a condom from the drawer. Chey’s lips come down hard on mine. We’re fucking frantic and needy and urgent. I pick her up before covering her body with mine on the bed. I kiss her again. Her hands pull at my hair.
“Colt… hurry up.”
We’re laughing again. I never laugh like I do with her. Hours ago I was pissed and fresh from jail and being a prick to my mom, but now I’m here with her…
Happy.
I’m fucking happy.
“I want to play,” I tease her. Flick her nipple with my tongue. One then the other. Her legs wrap around me and I push against her, feeling, not going inside.
Chey moans. Arches toward me and I know if I don’t fill her, I’m going to go insane.
I rip the package open with my teeth. My forearms rest on the bed, one on each side of her head.
Her dark eyes look up at me, spotlighted with the rising sun from outside.
My eyes don’t leave hers as I push inside. Who the hell cares how it sounds because this feels different too. She clutches my back and I take her lips. We’re moving together and it feels so good I could explode right now.
Our bodies are slick with sweat and I love how that feels too.
I keep going. Harder. Faster. For her. For me. Because I want to keep this up. I want to keep this feeling. Of her. Of being happy.
This isn’t a fucking game anymore. No charades here. I don’t know exactly what to call it, but whatever it is, it’s ours. I’m going to latch onto it. And never let go.
***
Chey’s half on top of me, my hand in her hair, her breath on my chest. She’s not asleep, though we’ve laid here about thirty minutes, neither of us talking.
We have so much shit to deal with: my mom, my upcoming court date, her panic. It’s all there, but not right now because in this room, it’s like there’s no one but us.
I sit up, not wanting to leave the bed, but I have to piss and we have a lot of shit to do. I’m on the edge of the bed, my white comforter around her. “No,” Chey says reaching for me.
“I need to get up.”
“You need to stay in this bed because if you get up, I have to get up, and I’m exhausted.” It’s crazy, but I hear the smile in her voice.
I turn to her. “I know I wore you out, but—” My words are cut off with her playful shove. Laughing, I try to get out of the bed, but then she’s sitting up, naked behind me. One of her arms is wrapped around my shoulder and the other, under my other arm. She latches her hands together.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“Or I’ll just take you with me,” I smirk. She laughs and I’m laughing again. I look to the side so I can see her had peeking over my shoulder. “I know I’m hard to resist.”
That earns me an eye roll.
The words are out of place here, but they come out anyway. “I want to make it up to Mom. Do something for her today. You wanna go?”
Another smile. It goes straight to my dick, making me hard. Chey rests her chin on my shoulder. “I wouldn’t let you go without me.”
“About what you told me earlier…”
“I know. I need to deal with it.”
“I’ll help you.” Who knows if I even can, but I want her to know I’ll be there.
“I know,” she answers again. “Now come on. Let’s go see your mom.”
***
“I still can’t believe you’re tatted. That’s badass.” I wink at Mom. We’re sitting on a blanket outside the apartment complex. I don’t know if it was smart to bring her out here, but she wanted some fresh air and fuck, if there’s one thing you should be able to have, it’s air.
We had a picnic, though she didn’t each much. Hell, I don’t really know if she ate anything, but she’s smiling and keeps looking up at the sun or over at me and Chey.
“I’m a badass Mom. What can I say?”
Cheyenne, Mom and I all laugh. I look at her. Her blue eyes that match mine, but with those purple circles around them. But her smile. It’s so big, so bright, so fucking happy.
Christ, I’m going to miss her. She’s all I’ve ever had.
“Don’t,” she whispers, somehow reading my thoughts. Chey reaches over and squeezes my hand. I try to smile. I’m not sure how real it looks, but I manage it.
Clouds are starting to ease in and I know we don’t have much more time. I’m surprised we even got this much warmth and sunshine today.
“Did it hurt?” I ask her.
“Yes! Didn’t yours?”
“Pfft. No.”
“She did awesome though. She didn’t flinch once,” Cheyenne adds. I’m jealous she had that with Mom, but glad too. Glad if anyone had to be there for her besides me that it was my girl.
“That’s because it was my baby’s name. How can I flinch doing one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever done?”
Her words hit me in the chest. It’s like a hammer to my heart, beating it, but somehow it won’t break either. It’s bruised. Bruised as hell, but it won’t shatter over something she did for me.
I reach over and take her hand. I have Chey’s on one side and Mom’s on the other. And I think… I wonder if maybe this—This moment is one of the most beautiful for me. I never really cared about beauty before. Not unless I was looking at a girl to hook up with and that’s a different kind of beauty. I wonder if I’ll look for it now. In other places.
“I’m sorry. About yesterday.” I didn’t plan to bring it up, but I think needs to be said. “I was a jerk, but I’m glad you did it. I’m honored you did it.”
Her eyes swim with tears. “I know, baby boy. I know.” Then she looks over at Chey. “Let’s talk about you. I want to know everything I can about the girl who stole Colton’s heart.”
When Chey looks at me, I see she has tears in her eyes too. I nod my head at her and she starts to talk. I watch and listen to them as Chey tells Mom about her dancing. How much she loves it. How it gave her something to focus on when her mom left. She tells her about her mom too. Not all the details, but how things hadn’t been perfect and how she recently found out she passed away.
They talk about school and how Cheyenne loves English, but she’s thinking about doing something to help kids. Psychology or something. I can’t believe I didn’t know that. That I didn’t take the time to ask. There are so many things I’ve been doing wrong—for years and as I watch them, my girl and my dying mom, I know I need to fix it. Make it better.
They get on the subject of pictures. It’s getting cooler outside and I see Mom shiver.
“Why don’t we go inside and look at some? Show Chey I’ve always been as gorgeous as I am now.”
They agree and I have to lift Mom to put her in the chair. I feel her bones through her skin, and that robe she still wears.
Another hammer. More shots, hitting the target they aim for.
We spend an hour going through old pictures. Cheyenne laughs and cries. Mom does too. I almost feel on the outside looking in, but it’s okay. I’m a part of it too. She’s always worked so hard. She didn’t have a lot of friends. Her spare time was spent with me until I was too much of an asshole son and was out all the time. Still, me or work. That’s all she ever cared about.
It’s fun watching her with Chey. Like she has a friend, or a daughter. I wonder if she sees it that way. I’m glad I gave it to her.