BUFF (25 page)

Colt is everywhere; over her, so near she can’t breathe without grazing him. His solid body barricades hers, the hardness of his chest burning a hole through the paper-thin wall of her clothing. He kisses her cheek tenderly, washing away the ache there, then the cut on her lip before skittering farther toward her ear.

She holds her moan in, knowing it will break the glassware if she ever allows herself to relish in the pleasures he is inflicting on her. The heated moisture of his mouth encloses around the dangling flesh of her ear, suckling just loud enough for her to hear.

Her stomach caves in, an avalanche of need robbing her senses blind of anything else but him. His weight presses into her so deeply she can hear his heart beat against her chest, feel the tremble of his knees as she pushes out her pelvis in an unmistaken message.

He hears it.

Using his knee he parts her legs and she welcomes his body by wrapping her limbs around his middle in a tight, heady embrace.

“Becky...” He groans her name against the side of her face, his body pulsing like a tightly coiled spring that is about to burst from the pressure.

All she can do is breathe against his shoulder and squeeze her eyes shut. She feels the subtle gesture of his hips move against her center, rub slowly up and press her right where she is throbbing with sensitivity and withdraw back only to come a second time. Harder. Stronger.

Becky encourages him, lifting her bottom from the ground and following his movements eagerly. With one hand she finds the trail of his spine and using the pad of her fingers she presses her body deeper into his, wanting more of his strokes.

Hungry for him she widens her legs and immediately feels the steel hot thickness of his erection. The length and width of him seems to bury itself, even with his jeans on, inside her; grazing the delicate nub of hers at a tempo that is draining her of restraint.

She cranes her neck back as his lips explore the distance between her ear and the flesh of her throat. He’s making that sucking noise again and the feasting sound carries such an enjoying timbre, it makes the wetness of her private heat up. She is going to come right there.

His lips sink lower, the top hairs of his head an erotic tickle against her chin. There is a small scoop at the lining of her shirt in front and he pulls it down, trying to nudge the cloth away, but the impatient tug sends a tearing noise ripping through the room. His lusty gaze, half-lidded and drunk on her, lifts and she shoves it farther down until the white globe of one breast pops out for him.

God she is so desperate for him she isn’t even acting in character. Where is the meek shy girl who barely shows her shins to the world, forget about her breasts? The tiny miniscule thought makes her freeze up a bit, her body clenching under him. He feels it, reads her mind but doesn’t stop as he speaks, kissing the spot between her breasts, “Don't.” He shakes his head, opening his mouth to kiss her again. “Whatever you're thinking—don't." It isn’t a request. He’s demanding her to obey to his will.

And whatever she’s thinking thaws into a shadow of nothing when her whole body goes limp in his strong, muscled arms. With his chin he pushes the white cotton of her bra away, exposing a sharp rosy nipple. It stands up, aroused, begging for his mouth, his tongue, and he doesn’t hesitate to oblige her silent urges.

His tongue licks the protruding flesh first, skimming it lightly, making her back arch for deeper access into his mouth. She moans, squeezes her mouth shut, dying for the hard penetration of his slick wetness—but he ignores her, circling her red bud sluggishly in a taunting manner that makes her want to rip her hair from its root. It actually hurts, the pleasure is so immense.

Just when she is about to scream he traps the jutting flesh between his lips. And he sucks on her. He sucks so hard and so long her mind goes blank, blackening out. His tongue alone is lapping her up, making her mouth go dry. He corners the tiny nub, pinching her senseless. The momentous, endless sensations ripple up and down her arms, liquefying her boneless, saturating her underwear until his long, thick cock embeds into her to the point where she can feel the straining pulse of him burning through all barriers.

It isn’t until he begins to move against her again that she realizes all this feeling is building to something. His hips buck against her recklessly, his mouth coming back to hers and kisses her with an erotic hungriness that slaughters whatever sense of reserve she has left. The fingers of his one hand enfold to the shape of her bottom, cupping and lifting her from the ground to meet and reply to the urgency of need his body demands of hers.

She doesn’t falter as she finds and meets his possessed pace, gripping the skin of his back and hearing his grunts split the air around them. His other hand plucks at her uncovered breast, his thumb and finger toying mercilessly with the reddened mound.

“Oh God…” The sensations pile upon her, sending her forward, swaying her like she’s crashing in an ocean in the middle of a great storm. Instinctively, her hand comes up to shield her cries, but Colt is faster, grabbing her wrist and pinning it to the floor next to their faces.

“No,” he whispers, in a hoarse moan, his hot breath puffing against her mouth as his eyes burn for her to try and defy him. “No. I wanna hear you come, Little Bit."

Those words spur something to life inside her. The heat in her stomach bloom and spread, a burst of streaming electricity rivers through her, plummeting her from every angle of her body. Her veins dilate and swell in her as her whole body unfurls and tidal waves. Her soul feels like it’s floating away from her body.

“Oh, Colt...” Her blind cry rips through both of them.

The buzz of liquid intensity courses in between the curves of her body, hard and persistent, shooting up her blood flow and growing dormant for a moment only to crescendo out of nowhere. Colt grinds into her like a man crazed.

“Colt,” she gasps as a new, stronger, fiercer rush floods her. The walls of her private heat juices and shakes, rocketing her immobile. Like a puppet she jerks under him, an innocent bystander to his relentless mastering power.

When the riotous tingles finally subside Becky lays spent under Colt, sweaty and shaky, coughing on the anew soreness of her throat and blushing instantly when she realizes why it’s there.

He’s kissing the side of her neck, small soft kisses, meant to soothe and highlight what they’ve both just experienced together. His mouth works its way up her throat, kissing the indents of her half-open mouth.

“Not enough,” he murmurs, against the swollen flesh of her lip, nipping her sweetly as he demands, “Let me taste you.”

Her mouth stretches into a languid smile, her mind adrift to her actions. Her fingers stroke the swell of his cheek, urging him to keep going.

“No... What about you?” She trembles beneath him, thrilled and shocked by the amount of stamina in him as he advances on her, deepening the kiss in one thorough push of his tongue. She doesn’t fight him, doesn’t want to. He feels so good, so warm and big above her. She never wants it to end. “Colt...” Her eyes close as his teeth skim her bottom lip, suckling on the soft flesh. “Make love to me,” she whispers, against his mouth.

Instead of the eager willingness she expects, Colt freezes in place. Removing himself from her he sits up for the first time, brushing his fingers through his mussed hair. She follows him, sitting up as well, climbing to her knees and reaching out to him, even though all her soreness seems to re-enter her at that moment.

"I... What's wrong?” she asks, watching the silent war brewing in his eyes. “Colt? Did I do something wrong?"

Head hung he exhales a breath, licking his lips before covering them with his hand as if he’s trying to hold on to the feel of their kisses. He runs his fingers through his head again, his eyes burning with a mysterious quandary as he fixes a look at the fireplace.

Not at her…

The flames of the fire behind her mirror in his eyes. Shadows of his desire for her, kindle, but holds at bay. “I can't,” he replies, tightly, as if it’s against his will. His eyes sweep her again, torturing her with the sight of his rippling aroused body. He turns quickly, his slit stare falling on her. “You have to know the whole truth."

*     *     *

HE NEEDS TO SIFT THE BASTARDS OUT
. Cut them off by the knees, make an example of them and have them suffer for their treachery.

There’s more than one betrayer in Kulich’s midst and he’s going to use any means necessary to make that happen.

He presses speed-dial three. It’s finally time for action and Kulich’s blood is boiling to the highest degree under his silk blue shirt.

“Roman."

“The fuck you doin’?"

“Yeah, I was just about to call you, Boss. On my way back.”

“Find anything?"

“Colt’s there."

“Yeah?"

“But he ain’t alone, Boss."

Kulich pauses, all motion inside him stops like freeze-frame. “Who’s with him?"

“A girl… Boss she fucking matches the description you gave me...” There’s a short bout of silence before Roman continues his report. “Got quite close to her and uh, Boss... got a real good look at her—fucking hot! Seriously, you should see the ass—"

"Roman! Fucks sakes."

"Sorry, Boss, sorry."

"What happened? What else you see?"

"Uh… She nearly caught me..."

Kulich feels his veins pop as he says through clenched teeth, "You'd better. Not fucking tell me. You let her see you."

“She… didn’t see me, sir?”

“Is that the truth?” Kulich sighs.

"I, uh, dunno, sir. She started running like a bitch and she, uh, fell and hit a rock."

"And?"

"And... I was gonna kill her in case she saw me but then Colt fucking came… Boss, this girl and Colt... they’re… they seem like they’re real fucking close."

“Close?” Kulich says the word like a curse.

“Colt carried her back to the house like some fucking superhero and I followed. Kept watch all night and, uh, they started doing the nasty—”

“Enough! I don't need to hear the rest of this shit. Get the fuck back here and bring Luis to the penthouse."

“Jenson?"

“Did I fucking ask for Jenson? No. Just bring fucking Luis and if any of the others ask where you're going tell them you're taking a trip to the city or something. Don't want them to know."

“Is something happening?”

“Yeah, something's going to happen,” Kulich answers with a deceptive sliver in his voice. “Something big.”

CLUTCHING THE FABRIC
of her shirt and hauling the neckline up, Becky ignores the warm measured stare she receives and strives to control some semblance.

“The truth…? The truth about what, Colt?"

His eyes are back on her mouth, aimed in sorrow and hunger, a combination that confuses her and makes her groan inside for him. For a tear-drop-of-a-second she wonders if he’s going to kiss her again. His eyes hold the same yearning: darkly enigmatic, but unreachably dedicated to her. Only her.

Instead he gets up without reason and saunters off to the kitchen in short confident strides. She watches, perplexed and dizzy with the acknowledgement of what has just happened between them. On this very floor.

The short absence allows Becky time to regain the little composure her frazzled nerves require, flattening her hair and lifting the scoop of her neckline. But the pillows scattered around her, the light tingling on her skin from where he had kissed her and the wet ache between her legs, refuse to let her forget.

Not only has she kissed Colt, not only has he made her come for the first time in her life—twice—but she has begged him for more. Her want for him is so irrationally strong she is saying and doing things that are completely unlike her.

Colt heads back with a cloth in his hand. Sitting in front of her, his bent knee touches hers, just like before, when all the insaneness had started. He hovers over her, lifting the damp cloth to her face. Caught-off-guard Becky flinches, retreating a few inches from his paused hand in mid-air.

“Your lip… I mean…” he says, huskily, the raw uncertainty in his voice makes a thrill leap in her stomach to kiss him. “…The cut on your lip is bleeding."

“Oh.” Feeling silly she swallows, drawing her lips together. Colt cups the edge of her jaw lightly. His wipe against her is so soft she might not have felt it if not for the burn his touch always carries. She can’t help but stare into his face as his concentration seems to be otherwise occupied.

“Did I hurt you?” he murmurs. “I didn’t mean to be so—"

“No,” she cuts through, unable to stop from relishing in his bashfulness. He is adorably gorgeous when gentle, shy. “No, Colt,” she whispers, smiling. Her smile brings his thumb closer to the entrance of her mouth. They both seem to notice at the same time.

“I didn’t mean for this...this…” he trails off, his brow deepening. Becky’s heart pounds in her chest. Her throat tightens. “This doesn't mean anything."

“Oh...” Her face drops along with her heart. “Okay... I see."

“No,” he adds, shaking his head and lifting her chin in one swoop. "You don’t."

Her chin begins to wobble in his hands and she hates the sting that paralyzes her lungs as she says, “Don't play games with me… Don't."

“I'm not.” He leans his head toward hers but her eyes set down.

She yanks her chin out of his hand and he lets her. “Then what do you want from me? Just tell me.” She shakes her head faintly. “Please."

After a long, agonizing minute of loud silence he admits, “You confuse me."

A nervous laugh escapes her mouth. “Welcome to the club. You're no better, Colt. You want me, then you don't. You act like you care and then you tell me it's just that—an act. Then when I think I'm nothing to you, nothing but some means to an end, you… you do this. What am I suppose to think?"

His chest rises higher than normal but he doesn’t respond. He gazes unrelenting at her. He doesn’t appear to have heard her, caught up in something she can’t see.

“I want to know,” she asks, despite her fear of the answer. “You asked me what I want. What about you, Colt. What do you want?"

“I...” His eyes blaze into hers, seizing time and space and then lets go. Ripping through his hair in one sweep of his fingers his answer comes robotically, “My job is to protect you until this is over. Nothing's gonna happen to you while you're with me."

“That's it? That's all?"

“I can't…” When she goes to stand he clutches her wrist, pulling her back to the floor, almost onto his lap. “Becky.” His eyes capture hers in a stern glare that keeps her in place. “This isn't easy. There's a lot you don't know."

“Like?"

The way he is breathing, hard and raspy, turns her on. His chest, golden and inked like a glistening leopard in the Sun, thumps up and down so wildly, at such a laborious pace, she can feel the pleasure again of what he had done to her only moments ago. The small thought makes her body desire for him to drag her back down to the floor and finish what he‘d started.

“You tell me you need to tell me some truth. If this is about what happened just now… I… I understand this can't go anywhere…"

“It can't.” He licks his lips, his eyes stray low on her face and the heat on her cheeks rises. “But that doesn't mean I don't want it to."

“You…” Her head leans forward, pushes against her will.

“I don't want this to be over." His whisper mirrors the ache growing inside her. The words brush against her like hot fingertips cascading down her breasts, bending her restraint to the brink, drawing out her strength like a suction.

“What do you want?” she whispers, in a tremor. Like gravity, she moves toward him.

“I can't promise you tomorrow, but for the time that we're here…"

A blush as red as hers, on skin as white as hers… there is no place to hide. “Yes?"

“…I can pleasure you, Little Bit.” His face presses closer to hers, her attention rivets by his mesmerizing eyes and plump naked mouth. “I can rock your world."

She swallows the moisture in her mouth. “And… then what?” she murmurs, her eyes drift shut as his nose bumps hers.

“Then we go back to our lives. You and your family will be safe and I'll—”

“You'll go back to what you do.”

“Yeah…” He breathes against her cheek, the slight brush of air makes her quiver even though he’s scarcely touching her.

Sighing full and hard, Becky shakes her head, pulling back from him as if to ward away the immensity of his power. When she draws away from the security of his warm body she is torn to shreds within.

“Now…” With greater care than she has ever seen anyone move, Colt skims the side of her bruised cheek; his fingers trace the curve and dip of the shape. “…is all we have, Becky."

“What if that's not enough for me.” She feels her soul slipping between the cracks. The blue staring back at her crystallizes, brilliant and undiluted.

“I can’t have what I want.” He clears his throat. “I’ll only drag you to Hell.” The begrudging statement of his next words comes out strangled, “All I have is right now—if you want it. I can’t make that promise of forever."

“Tell me what you want?” She wants to—needs to—know. To know every inch of him, inside and out.

Her breathing tumbles, staggering while his grows to an audible rasp. “You."

“Me…?” Her voice fades, the residual lace of self-doubt echoing between them.

“You,” he repeats, “just you.” Somehow the distance between them evaporates, diminishing her grasp on what he’s just said, making her lose ground as he nears her, overshadowing her world.

“What could I give you?"

“Let me take away the pain I caused… for awhile.” He scoops her face in between his hands. “Whatever you want… whatever you need… Anything."

The urge to give in and crumble, to lean on him without inhibition—all of it is spinning around in her brain at warp speed.

“Colt...” She licks her lips, winces a bit at the sting it causes. “I've been fighting it for a long time but… I want you. Have since the day you saved me. But all this, it’s confusing me. I don’t know if I can do this and just walk away. Pretend I never had you, like this… I just don’t know if I can."

“I'm not asking you to pretend. I'm asking you to let me wash away my sins with you.” He finds her hand that lays over her knee. “Here. Right now. Becky. Let me."

“I can't… I need…” She stumbles up to a standing position and this time he doesn’t move to stop her. “I just need some time. Is that okay?"

His tone is rich and thick in understanding as it washes over her, “Okay.” He stands slowly, growing over her like the warm shade of a tree. She backs away a few inches, head down, eyes filmed by her pervading thoughts, then walks around him. She feels off-balanced. “Let me help you."

“No,” she quickly counters, shaking him off with a faint smile and turning back to watch where she’s going. “I'm fine.” She steps into the kitchen, face to the side, a wall of tears in her eyes.

Silence falls. Deeper.

Her thinking, her thoughts now, are louder than any shouting or cries she has done with him. Becky has spent most of her life hiding the way she really feels, but Colt sees it all. It’s wreaking havoc on her, makes her feel like her skin is on a rack and being stretched without mercy.

“Wait." The one word, hushed and growled, stops her in her tracks to escape him.

He enters the kitchen, grabs for something in his back pocket, turns it over in his hand a couple of times. His hand is so large and whatever he’s holding is so small it takes her several seconds to actually see what it is.

“Here.” He reaches for her hand and she lets him, cupping the back, the heat of his palms scorching her knuckles under his touch. She looks at him.

Colt clears his throat. “I'm going to press send. When the man on the other end picks up, tell him who you are and he'll give the phone to your dad."

“Dad… you mean I can talk to him?"

“At least I can do this for you. But not long. This is an untraceable phone. I'm dumping it once everything’s over but I don't wanna take any chances. Five minutes tops."

“Colt… I…” Scarce for words, her head shakes from side to side. “Thank you,” she gently lets out.

He releases her hand and backs away, but his eyes never let go of her. “Remember…” The tiny lift of the corner of his mouth tilts. “…Anything."

*     *     *

THE LUMP IN HER THROAT INFLATES
, blocking her already tensed breaths. "Dad, I love you."

She can see him in her mind smiling on the other end of the phone. “I love you, too, Pumpkin."

“Tell Mom and Toby I love them so much and miss them every minute of the day."

“I will. Look after yourself. See you soon, Pumpkin.”

His voice is gone, disappearing just as quick and out of nowhere as it had appeared, like an apparition of her making.

“Yes… soon...”

Clicking the flap shut she fists the phone in her hand, the first of her tears falling against both her cheeks. Repeating her words she whispers into the dimly lit room, “Soon...” And then her face falls forward into her cupped hands.

Her cries come unhindered and she’s a little alarmed by how much the tears rack through her body. Her shoulders bounce uncontrollably and the burning tightness in her stomach spreads, making her feel numb.

Becky tries her hardest to remain as quiet as possible, muffling the involuntary anguished moans. She misses her family so much, everything is spinning inside her. The heartache tears at her.

The heel of a palm, hard but soothing, works its way up and down her back. Not wanting to but unable to stop herself, she freezes, her defenses up. She wipes her wet nose and then her cheeks, apologizing before she even turns. “I'm sorry."

“Hey,” he says, brushing the veil of hair so he can see her face better. “Little Bit."

When her head remains down he comes closer, twisting the seat so that she’s completely in front of him. She can’t hide from him.

“I was just upset... It’s no big deal."

“Stop."

Her eyes peer up at him. “Stop what?"

He skims his thumb down the side of her forehead to her cheek, resting comfortably on the edge of her chin. “Stop pretending you're not hurt."

Nodding she says, “I'm fine."

“Don't believe you.” His other hand comes up, cupping her shoulder. Colt's expression mirrors her own, lost, but peacefully hungry in that state.

“Sorry.” Her tongue sweeps across her lower lip, the flesh begging for moisture from the cold.

Colt's gaze strays lower, shadowing in a haze of distant want. “Don't be sorry."

Becky's effort to keep her head straight from swimming is half-hearted. “It’s just hard hearing his voice… It brings back all this pent up… stuff."

“I promise it’ll be over soon."

The promise subsides the storm of emotion inside her, pressing it down until nothing is left but a whisper. “I know."

“It’s me who should be sorry."

The magnitude of his stare brings her to the edge of her seat. She leans closer, her forehead grazing his. “Don't be. You saved our lives. You saved mine... again."

His eyes smile down, twinkling like stars over a velvet moonlight. “That's not what you said before."

She can’t smile, can’t even breathe to make herself think. All she understands is that the pain inside her is vanishing and is being replaced by something violent, overpowering, plowing everything else aside. “Things change."

The whirlwind sweeping through her reflects in his stare, overtaking him like he’s as much a victim to the magnetic pull between them as she is. “Yeah, they do."