Coletrane (16 page)

“Yes.” I groaned, threading my fingers into her hair to hold her head still.

I fed her the thick helmet over and over as she slurped on me, her plump lips enclosed around me. I needed more. I pushed deeper, stuffing her mouth, watching the veiny length pump with more blood.

With a hiss, I edged out, my shaft glistening with her saliva.

“More,” Sin moaned.

After licking her lips, she opened her mouth wide and rolled out her tongue to take my cock.

I cupped her cheek, whispering in a raw voice, “You amaze me,” as I plunged my shaft inside.

She was so blissed out, she softly, sloppily sucked. The wet pleasure was so extreme, she ratcheted my need like a wire pulled to the breaking point.

Pulling out my cock, I kissed her with rough urgency then settled between her thighs. “Don’t want to use a condom with you anymore. I’m safe. Got tested. No other women since you.” I kissed her neck. “No other woman for me but you.”

“Yes, Cole.” Sin twisted beneath me, her body begging for me.

“I want to keep you restrained just a little bit longer. Can you take it?”

She raised her head, her smile shining. “I can take all of you.”

That’s my woman.

I pointed my cock toward her waiting slit, split the soft lush lips with the broad head, and thrust all the way inside.

Her back arched as if she’d experienced an electric shock.

I stilled, buried to my balls, expanding when she coaxed me from the inside with soft little pulses. The feeling of her wrapped around me, no barrier, nearly set me off. Hot. Wet. Tight. Massaging.

Totally fucking overwhelming.

“Don’t move, precious. Don’t make a sound. Can you do that for me?” I braced myself on fists planted beside her head.

Her body tensed in response but she stopped moaning.

Her breath rushing out, she squeezed me internally even more.

Fuck, could I ever feel that.

“Just like that. That’s right, Sin. That’s the only way you can move on me. Squeeze my cock with your cunt.” My harsh voice reverberated.

I remained deep inside her, the internal contractions stealing my sanity.

She strained in her flesh but remained otherwise motionless and quiet.

Finally—the torture building, the intensity rising, pure sensation with no release an agonizing pleasure—I looked down at her.

She stared back. Finally, just Sin. No vanity, no façade, no finery, no upper-crust
family. Just Sin, Tears tracked down to her temples. Her lush mouth parted. Heavy deep breaths wrenched out of her. She was absolutely open to me.

“Now tell me what you want.” I palmed her tits and pinched her nipples, adding more and more pressure until she burst:

“Fuck me. Fuck me Cole. Please, oh God, please!”

“I need more.” I hadn’t moved inside her since the first raw lunge.

She wailed, “I need your cock! Fuck me now!”

“Will you stay still if I do? Can you keep still and silent?”

She frantically nodded
yes
.

I began entering her with deep long strong strokes. Each pump inside her firm and powerful, but slow. Everything building, escalating.

Sin tried to remain still, but she let loose a series of hot moans and desperate whimpers.

Braced above her, I watched the impact of my cock drilling all the way inside her making her tits bounce and her breath catch.

My muscles flexed harder, rippling. My cock swelled, bigger than ever. Her pussy fluttered, drenching me.

Sin didn’t move. I drove into her harder. Faster. I placed a hand on her belly, forcing even more pressure inside her.

Finally, when the torture and agony and heat and desire became impossible to withstand, I withdrew from her. She wailed incoherently.

Working quickly, I untied all her bonds.

Sitting back against the pillows, I helped her climb onto my lap, held her poised above my engorged cock.

“Now ride me. However you want. Fuck me, Sin. Kiss me, scratch me, scream for me.”

She impaled herself, simply dropping down onto my cock with a shout. She went wild, pulling at my hair, riding me hard. She gyrated with me pressed deep inside, my tip massaging her g-spot, my thumb circling her hot clit.

She came hard, brilliantly, flinging her head back and screaming my name.

But she didn’t stop. The rocking, swaying, lifting, dropping, fucking continued.

Pulling her tits to my mouth, I sucked, licked, kissed her tender nipples, practically mauling them.

“Can you feel what you do to me?” I slammed up into her as she drove down. “No one like you.” Grabbing her hair, I wrenched her mouth to mine. “Never be another woman like you for me. Never letting you go now.”

Hugging her to me, I let the orgasm take over. Kissing, gasping, roaring her name, I pumped jet after jet of come into her.

My cheek pressed against hers, I ran my fingers through her hair, down her back.

She clung to my shoulders, her legs curled around me.

“God, I love you, Sin.”

She froze in my lap.

I pulled back, grinning at her stunned reaction. “I love you.”

“Really?” She frowned.

“Uh, yeah. Really.”

She let her head fall to my shoulder, and I went back to stroking her hair.

“That’s good,” she said in a hushed voice. “Because I love you too.”

I smiled, kissing her neck. “I guess that is a good thing then.”

And it was easy, just like that. Easy and . . . absolutely astonishing.

I took very gentle care of Sin later, ensuring I hadn’t strained her too much. We grabbed some dinner, watched some TV, listened to music, and went back to bed.

We held each other in the dark, whispering, occasionally laughing when Pincushion would prowl by, clawing at the door.

Just before Sin drifted off, she said, “Cole, I’d like to meet your mom.”

FOR THE NEXT WEEK, Sin and I saw each other as much as possible. Sometimes I picked her up after work, when our schedules aligned. Twice she met me at Retribution. The usual suspects—otherwise known as the MC goons—unsubtly signaled their approval of me getting back with Sin with big thumbs up, hard slaps on my back, and beers shoved in our faces.

I hadn’t seen her folks since that fucked up night at the benefit. Couldn’t say I was too excited about the prospect of running into them ever again, but I knew it would have to happen sooner or later.

On Sunday, I rode to my mom’s care facility with Sin seated behind me on the bike.

I stopped in the parking lot of the place that was only a few miles from my apartment. It wasn’t the best, but it was all I could find nearby. At least the staff was on the ball.

Grievously, it was that big, fat, pie-in-the-sky windfall, her dreamed of security for Brooke and me that funded Mom’s convalescence. How sick was that?

One stinger after another. Blood money from an insurance policy paid for the bulk of my mom’s care. Yet another fucking blow.

Just another reason to feel guilty.

Sin dismounted, but I stayed where I was, fingers gripped tight on the throttles.

“Cole, are you nervous?” She turned my face to hers.

“I’ve never brought a girl to meet my mom before. And she’s not exactly all there.”

“I’m just glad for the chance.” Bending down, she pecked my lips. “I meant what I said. I love you. This is important to me.”

Turning sideways on the motorcycle, I held Sin by her hips as she stood between my legs. The sun beat down and she looked as gorgeous as ever.

“I guess I should clue you in about the situation,” I began. “I mean, the docs tried to lay it all out for me, back when she got like this, but it still doesn’t make much sense. It’s like her mind stopped at a point right before Brooke died.” I lowered my eyes. My voice dropped. “Some sort of psychosis from the shock. Extreme PTSD. She never moves forward.”

“Okay. I’ve done my fair share of visits to hospitals and retirement homes, Vet facilities.” Sin caressed my cheek. “The only difference is it’s your mom, and I want to be here for you. For her.”

I took off my helmet while she retrieved the big plastic-wrapped package I’d bundled to the back of my bike when I’d picked her up.

“What’s that?”

Breaking open the filmy shroud, she revealed a bouquet of vibrant pink flowers. “They’re called flowers. Specifically peonies. Every woman likes to be brought flowers, Cole.”

I hopped off the bike and got my own package. “And chocolates.”

Hooking my arm around her waist, I guided her inside.

The antiseptic smell hit me in a rush, bringing back the worst memories. Brooke. The morgue. Identifying her because my mom was already cracking up . . .

I pushed those memories aside. For a few hours a week, I was just a boy who’d lost his sister, who still needed his mom.

“Mr. Cole!” The usual nurse rushed up to me in her starched colorful scrubs.

Jeanine said the patients liked the rainbows on her uniform more than the staid blue scrubs. “Oh, boy. Your mama is in fine form today. She talkin’ a lot.” She grabbed my elbow. “Now, I’m not sayin’ she’s all there, but it should be a good visit for y’all.”

“Thank you, Jeanine.”

“She’s in the her room right now. G’on and see her. You’ll both brighten her some more.”

That was the goal. Make her smile. She’d never healed from the grief. And mostly she didn’t recognize me from one visit to the next, but while I was there she occasionally showed sparks of remembrance. I had to believe that was something. It was all I had.

In her shared room, my mom sat alone beside the window. She hummed softly, watching butterflies skip from blossom to blossom in the garden outside. I stopped just inside the threshold, my heart catching for a beat.

Brooke had resembled her. They use to laugh together, calling their hair dishwater blonde, but I’d always thought it was pretty. Light brown with shots of honey-gold. Now my mom’s streaked with silver as it fell past her shoulders.

Other than the silver streaks in her hair, she could be in the prime of her life, except for the fact her mind was almost completely gone.

I walked inside, making sure she heard each footfall so she wouldn’t be startled.

She turned her head, a smile lighting her face. “Oh, my. You came back!”

“Of course I did, Mom.”

This was a good day. Sometimes the visits varied. She could call me an imposter, be angry to see me, scared of me . . .

She shook her head a little as if the word
mom
didn’t ring true.

I gave her a moment to look me over and make sure I was safe before I approached her with a light hug. Her hands remained on the arms of the chair, but she didn’t recoil.

Not this time.

“Mom, this is Sinclair Chatham, my girlfriend.” I beckoned Sin forward. “Sin, my mother, Claire.”

“Mrs. Sawyer, I’m honored to meet you, ma’am.”

“You are so pretty! Just look at you.” Mom glanced from Sin to me. “Who are you again?”

I cleared my throat. “Brought you some of those fancy chocolates you like.” Sometimes it was just better to move forward, no matter how much it hurt.

She accepted the glossy white box with an impish smile. “Well aren’t you sweet?”

“And some flowers, Mrs. Sawyer.” Sin held out the fragrant cluster.

“Those are some pretty. Why thank you. Do you think you could find a vase? I reckon there’s one parked in that old trolley over there.”

The
old trolley
was a clinical-looking metal cabinet on locked, rolling wheels.

“I’ll take care of it,” Sin said.

“Isn’t she just lovely?” Mom curled her hands beneath her chin. “Reminds me of my daughter somehow. Brooke. Girls are just so precious.” She peered at me. “I have a son too. He’s only fifteen, but you look like him.”

I kneeled beside her. “
I’m
Cole, Mom. I’m your son.”

“You can’t be. He’s just a teenager.” She frowned and rubbed her eyes for a moment before sitting back with a smile. “But thank you for visiting me. Did you come last week? I think I remember you.”

“Yes, Mom. I was here last week.”

She indulgently patted my cheek. “That’s so nice of you to volunteer your time. I don’t get many visitors. I miss my Brookie. Have you seen her?”

I glanced behind at Sin. She was busily filling a cheap vase with the expensive bouquet, her back turned. Her shoulders were shaking.

I swallowed over the tightness in my throat. “I haven’t seen Brooke lately, no, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

I was so sorry my heart tore open all over again.

When Sin turned around, her eyes shone bright with unshed tears, and my heart convulsed again.

“Mrs. Sawyer, Cole told me you like to play cards. Do you have a deck?”

My mom lit up with excitement. She leaned over and grabbed a well-used pack of cards she expertly shuffled. “Do you know Kings in the Corners?”

“My daddy taught it to me. Before he showed me how to play poker.” Sin winked.

I dragged a chair over for Sin and pushed the wheelie table between them, locking the rollers with the toes of my boots.

Sitting on the bed, I watched them play the first card game my mom had ever taught me. Sin won, but there was an immediate rematch as they shared the box of chocolates between them.

Every so often my mom looked at me, almost like I was a completely unexpected stranger to her.

I didn’t let the hurt show. It was pointless now. I just enjoyed the sight of her having fun with Sin.

“Best of three,” Mom challenged after she won the second round.

“Bring it on,” Sin returned.

I’d never seen my mom so entertained, so lively. It made me smile even as it pinched my heart.

Sin took the last game, and they laughed
conspiratorially
, holding hands for a few moments that would forever remain engraved in my brain.

“Hey, folks.” Jeanine stuck her head inside. “It’s almost lunchtime. You staying?”

“Not this time. We gotta jet soon. Thank you, though.” I smiled.

“You’re a good son, Cole. You know you always brighten her day, hon,” she said, her shoes squeaking as she walked away.

My mom had started pulling at her hair. Always a sign of bad things to come. I reached out to stop her, but Sin got there first, settling her hand over my mother’s.

“Mrs. Sawyer? Would you like a little trim?” she asked.

“Oh, yes! You see the hairdressers come in only every six months. I don’t like these straggly ends a’tall.”

Sin rushed out to the hallway. I heard her haggling with Jeanine, whose laughter suddenly boomed.

I snagged her waist when she entered the room. “What did you promise them?”

“A hefty donation, of course, to go toward more recreation and outings, and higher wages. Jeanine gave me the director’s number.” She flipped a business card between her fingers. “And hairdressers every
two
months, which I will pay for, for all the residents.” She wielded a pair of sharp scissors, snapping them in front of my face.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s what the foundation is for, Cole.”

“You can’t just throw money around like that.”

“If it helps, I can. Those old buzzards on the board don’t stand a chance against me.” Sin marched on by me while I sat stunned.

For years I’d watched my mom languish.

In two hours, it felt like Sin had turned her life around.

She took my mom into the small bathroom, and I heard the water running. There were snicks of the scissors, light laughs . . . girl talk.

My mom exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped turban-style around her head.

Sin followed her out. “Hairdryer?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Well, we’ll take care of that next visit.”

Why hadn’t I though of that?

She rubbed my mom’s hair dry until it looked soft and fluffy, healthier than ever, framing her soft face. She held up a hand mirror, and Mom sighed.

“Would you like me to braid it? That way it won’t get tangled when you sleep.” Sin brushed through the lengths.

“Oh, yes.” Mom sighed in childlike delight. “I reckon I’d like that.”

Sin’s sweet feminine touch with my mom had me on the verge of tears.

The thick braid completed, they both admired it. My mom brought Sin’s hand to her cheek.

“You’re a very pretty girl, Miss Sinclair. I hope my son finds someone like you one day.”

“I already have,” I whispered, clasping Sin to me.

“Bye, Momma.” I kissed her cheek quickly before she could protest. “I’ll see you next week.”

I raced out of the room before Sin said goodbye. I rushed out of the facility before I cracked wide open.

I made for the trees edging the parking lot.

“Cole! Wait!”

I didn’t slow down until I was knee deep in brush.

“You told me you wouldn’t walk away from me again.” Sin’s hand skimmed up my back.

“I know. Don’t like you seeing me vulnerable.”

“
I know that
.” She rubbed up and down my arms. “You’re my big, strong man. And I want to be here for you even when you lose it.”

I balled my fists at my side. “Don’t wanna break down in front of you, Sin. I can’t help her. I can’t make my mom better.”

“Do you remember you broke me down last time we were together? Got inside my head? Put me back together again . . . stronger than before?” She leaned into me. “I can do that for you. I love you, Cole.”

Rounding in her arms, I crumpled. “It hurts. It hurts so goddamn much.”

“I know, baby. I know.” She kissed my temple. “I’m here.”

The wracking waves of agony I’d never let take hold of me juddered through me. The grief. All the loss. The pain that had no cure.

Sin held me.

She’d taken care of my mom—and me.

I found it hard to look at her when I dropped her off at home half an hour later. My eyes felt swollen behind my shades. The sun was too bright. The emotions too near the surface.

She kissed my chin. “You never let me hide from you.”

“Callin’ me a hypocrite now?”

“
Somethin’
like that.”

I squinted at her. “I don’t like being vulnerable, like I said.”

“I like that you show me all of you.”

“
Hmm
.” I looped my arms around her waist. “Another standoff.”

“Only if that gets you
off
.” She pressed me away. “I have work tomorrow.” She turned on her heels. “Need my beauty sleep.”