Текст книги "Charade"

Автор книги: Nyrae Dawn

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

~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.

              Mom finally admits she’s getting tired. She hugs Chey goodbye before I help her to her room. She’s in bed and I lean over to kiss her forehead, but she stops me.

              “Thank you.” Her hand cups my cheek and tears spill down her face. “This day has been perfect, Colton. Just like you, it will always be a part of me.”

              I shake my head. My eyes ache as I try to fight back tears. I can’t do this. We can’t do this now. It’s not time. I’m not ready.

              “We’ll have more of them.” I tell her, but I can’t look her in the eyes when I say it. “I promise.”

              “I know.” She leans her forehead against mine and we just sit there. I close my eyes because I’m fucking weak and I can’t handle seeing her. To see if she doesn’t believe we’ll have more days like this and wishing I gave her some earlier.

              I know she wants to say more. I feel it in the way her hand touches my cheek, but she doesn’t. All she says is, “Now go spend the day with that girl of yours. She’s something special.”

              I nod. Stay here a few seconds longer before I pull away. “Yeah…she is. I’m lucky to have her.”

              “She’s just as lucky to have you.”

              I hope so. I really fucking do.

~CHAPTER THIRTY~

Cheyenne

              Colt doesn’t feel like doing anything after we see his mom. Which I understand. I can’t imagine going through what he is and wish there was something I could do for him. I hate feeling helpless. I know it’s something I share with him. I think we’ve both felt like that too often. It’s probably one of the things that drew us together.

              We stay at his house again. It’s wild and crazy as ever. I wonder if Adrian does anything but party.

              “How do you handle the partying all the time?” I ask as we lay in bed the next day.

              Colt shrugs. “Because I was always partying with him?”

              “Oh.” His reply makes happiness shoot through me. He’s with me instead of partying. “I’m more fun, aren’t I?” I tease.

              Colt laughs. I love the sound.

              “You’re fucking cocky is what you are.”

              “You have the worst mouth.”

              “I thought we decided women like my mouth. You like my mouth, don’t you?”

He starts to use it on me and I can’t help but shiver. He definitely knows how to use it.

              “You’re always distracting me.” I let my eyes close and just feel.

              “You like that too.”

              And he’s right. I do. I also like this playful side of him. Love that I’m the one who gets to see it.

              “Stop talking.” My hand slides through his hair.

              “Done,” he says. Like always Colt makes good on his word.

***

              “Have you done this before?” I ask Colt as he climb the grassy hill. A few people are already sitting on the ground, different colored blankets under them or some with chairs. There are a few trees, but not a lot. Probably why they do this in the Fall so it’s not too hot. Tonight will be chilly though. I’m looking forward to that.

              “What?” he replies. I almost forgot I asked him a question.

              “The concerts in the park. Have you come to them before?” They’re sponsored by the college. Indie type bands play at them. We don’t even know what kind of music to expect, but felt like getting out of the house. Like doing something normal.

              Colt rolls his eyes at me. “Yeah. All the fucking time. I help organize it.”

              I shake my head and laugh at him. “You’re right. What could I have been thinking? It would require you to actually want to do something normal or happy.”

              He does something that surprises me then. Colt tackles me. He’s careful and I go down easily because…well because I don’t mind being taken down by him.

              He sits on my stomach, straddling me. He’s able to hold both my hands in one of this and I can’t get away. “How’s this? Is this normal and happy? Is this what I’m supposed to do? Tickle you and be all fucking sappy in public?”

              His voice is light. A smile tilts his mouth.

              “No. You’re not doing it right,” I tell him.

              He cocks his head. “I’m not? Fuck.”

              “You’re supposed to kiss me.”

              Without a word he leans forward and does just what I said. Our tongues dance together, around each other the way he calls me little dancer. All too soon he’s pulling away.

              “She’s good at that, isn’t she?” At the sound of Gregory’s voice, I tense.

              Colt doesn’t though. He’s off me and on his feet in two seconds.

              “What the fuck did you just say?” Colt hisses.

I scramble to my feet. What did I ever see in Gregory? “Don’t.” I grab onto Colt’s arms.

“I said she’s good at that, though I’m pretty sure you heard me.” Red is by his side. I’m surprised he doesn’t have a friend with him. He’s such a coward.

“Don’t say a word about her again. Talk shit about me all you want. You bring her into it and I’m going to have to beat your ass. Again. How many times will that make?” Colt starts holding up, one, two, three, four, five fingers until he’s holding both hands up.

“Are we really going to do this again?” Colt asks. “I’m down if you are, but you have your girl with you and I’d hate for her to have to clean you up again. Why don’t you go do what you came here to do. Talk shit about me to your friends later and pretend you’re man enough to matter to me. If you couldn’t tell, I’m trying to kiss my girl.”

I know Colt. He really will fight if Gregory tries anything. I tighten my grip on his hand. Gregory’s face is bright red. He’s pissed and embarrassed. I can’t believe I was with him so long. That I was so much like him.

“This isn’t over,” Gregory says before walking away. It’s hard not to laugh. It’s such a “B” movie thing to say.

“I really fucking hate him.” The tension in Colt finally releases.

“I’m sorry. I just want to have a good day.”

                    He sighs, which doesn’t sound very good, but says, “We will. We’re normal and happy, remember?”

              I smile before we finish trekking up the hill, find a spot and lay our blanket down.

              The music starts not long after. A guy with a guitar who sounds a little like Bobby Long, one of the only people I really listen to. This guy isn’t as good.

              I sit between Colt’s legs and he has his arms around me. I feel his heart against my back and wonder if mine matches his rhythm.

              When it starts to get cold, he pulls the blanket around us. Gregory’s forgotten. Everything else can wait. We just sit back and listen. I’m not even sure if he likes this kind of music, but he’s here and that means something to me.

              “You owe me for this,” he whispers in my ear before nipping it with his teeth.

              “How did I know you’d say something like that?”

              He chuckles and keeps holding me. I’m glad it’s cold, but even if it was a hundred degrees I would still love to have him wrapped around me.

              When it’s over we hold hands as we walk back to the car. I’m not sure how many more days we’ll have like this– if it was a fluke because he just needed a break or if we’ll try to make this our new normal. All I know is I loved it. I love everything I do with him.

              “We just went on a fucking date, Tiny Dancer,” Colt teases when we get to the car.

              “I was just thinking that.”

              He smirks. “It wasn’t so bad. Mom will be proud.”

              I return his smile before hugging him. What is it about this boy that makes me come undone? That makes me need to touch him and talk to him and just be with him?

              “Did you only go out with me to make your mom happy?” I laugh.

              Colt shakes his head. “Are you trying to pull compliments out of me?”

              I playfully push him before getting in the car. He’s right behind me, tossing the blanket into the backseat and then climbing into the passenger side.

              I hardly have the car started when my phone rings. It’s Bev’s number. Colt doesn’t have a new phone so maybe she’s just calling to say hi.  “Hello.” I listen. Tears automatically pool in my eyes. My heart breaks. “Okay…I understand.”

              I hang up the phone and look at Colt. “That was Maggie.” I grab his hand and he tenses. “She’s not doing well…They’re calling in hospice. They think it’s time.”

              That quickly our normal…our happy, is over.

~CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE~

Colt

              I feel like I’m choking on my own tongue the whole way there. Like it’s swelling, filling my mouth, throat, suffocating me, but I still can’t make myself open my mouth and say a word. My mind is blank the whole time except for the same words going over and over through my head.

              It’s time, it’s time, it’s time.

              Such simple fucking words, but they mean everything’s changing. That I’ll have to keep going on, but she’ll soon be dead. Fucking gone. No huge beating heart, no smile. Nothing but skin, bones and my name on her wrist, until eventually she won’t even be that anymore.

              My grip tightens on the door and the center console as my dancer drives me home. To sit with my mom. While she dies.

              I almost gag. Something wants to come up my throat but I fight it down. I can’t lose it. Can’t. Not yet. Not before I see her.

              We get out of the car and Cheyenne takes my hand. She doesn’t ask me if I’m okay. What a stupid fucking question that is. I hate it when people ask that when they know the answer. Instead she asks, “Are you sure you want me to stay?”

              I pull her to me, loving her for asking and still needing her here because there’s no way I can do this alone.

              “Stay.” Is all I say because it’s all I can manage. She nods, understanding. Always understanding no matter how big a prick I’ve been.

              My hands fucking shake as we walk inside. I lace my fingers through hers, needing the grounding only this girl gives me.

              “Oh, Colton,” Maggie pulls me into her arms, but I don’t hug her back. Don’t have it in me to do anything.

              I don’t get it. The day before yesterday, she was fine. Laughing and talking and sitting in the sunshine.

              “What happened?” I manage to ask.

              Maggie pulls away. “Yesterday she slept most of the day. Was vomiting.”

              “Why didn’t you call me?” I ask.

              “She asked me not to. Said she was just tired. It’s her right, Colton.”

              “I’m her son.” I push around Maggie. “I have a right.”

              “Another hospice nurse came in this morning…They prescribed a lot more morphine. It will help with the pain.”

              Help kill her, she means.

              “She didn’t want to take any until you got here. She’s still sleeping a lot but—”

              I don’t hear anything else because I’m down the hall. To her room. She’s in fucking pain because she wanted to wait for me.

              Her head is turned, her eyes on the door as soon as I step inside.

              “Colton,” she hardly whispers out. My feet plant to the floor. I can’t move. How the hell can she look so much worse in two days? How can it happen like this? She’s hooked up to the IV. I’ve seen her on it at home before, but this is different.

              My pulse pounds in my ears. My chest aches. This is Mom. The one who’s always been there. The one who wanted nothing but for me to be happy. To make something of myself. To be more than her and more than my dad and she’s fucking dying.

              Her arm stretches out, her hand open to me.

              Fucking move, Colt!

              I feel Chey’s hand on my shoulder, urging me on. One foot in front of the other I go to her.

              “Hey, Mom.” My voice breaks and I hate myself for it. Hate that I can’t be stronger when she needs me.

              “Hi.” Her lips are cracked they’re so dry, but she manages to stretch them into a smile anyway.

              “I love you.” I’m pissed those are the words that come out of my mouth. I love her and want her to know but that’s what you say before goodbye. I’m not ready for goodbye yet.

              She doesn’t answer right away. Just grab my hand and tries to squeeze. “I’m tired.”

              “Are you in pain?” What a screwed up question. Of course she’s in pain. I’m in pain just looking at her.

              Mom nods her head.

              “Chey. Get Maggie. Tell her she needs the meds.”

              I keep holding her hand as I sit in the chair. Neither of us speak. Her breaths are shallow, loud.

              It’s not Maggie, but another nurse who comes into the room and adds medicine to the IV. Chey’s hands touch my shoulders again. I don’t look at any of them. Don’t talk to anyone. Do nothing but watch her.