Page 47 of Colt
My nipples are hard, and I feel myself getting wet between my thighs.
I’ve had sex before.
Sex doesn’t have to ruin everything. It barely even changes anything.
And the truth is, Colt has sex with tons of women, all the time. I’m quite certain that he runs into women he’s slept with in town all the time. And it doesn’t matter. It’s fine.
It’s totally okay that he’s slept with them before, and they still see each other in town.
I mean, I still live in town with my ex-boyfriends. I really rarely think about them. When I run into them, it doesn’t even feel awkward.
It’s just that I’ve let the thing with Colt become so big. That’s the real issue.
I built it up into something that it can’t possibly live up to. And I sort of transposed the feelings that I had for him when I was a teenage girl onto the feelings that I might have for him as an adult woman. Why have this unresolved lust? Unresolved lust isn’t love. It’s not even a crush. I want him. And I think there’s something fundamental about that.
He was my sexual awakening in so many ways.
The first man I ever fantasized about. They were innocent fantasies at first, of course.
I thought about kissing him. And then when I got older, I thought about a whole lot more.
He was the first human I had those concrete thoughts about. He drove me straight into the bed of a very under-skilled teenage boy.
But that’s the problem, the idea of Colt still has so much cachet.
And what if I just found out? And what if we didn’t let it ruin anything? Because he’s right. Our family is so important. I let all this hurt me because I interpreted it in a negative way. The thing about Colt is that he never means anything in a bad way. He’s kind of an ass, but he’s never being mean. I’m the one who's prickly and difficult and always throws spikes down on the road in between us.
It doesn’t have to be that way. I can change. I shut the water off. This is what men do when they talk themselves into having affairs? They just start telling themselves pretty stories that they polish and shine until the outcome is that they can excuse themselves to have the sex that they want, no matter how destructive it might be.
Maybe. I shut that moment of self-awareness away. I don’t want self-awareness.
I want to scream his name.
Yeah. I am probably hallucinating. Half-asleep still. I should probably drink some coffee before I follow this train of thought. But instead, I pull on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, no underwear underneath either of them, and I walk out of my house, down the sidewalk toward Colt’s house.
And with a little bit of guilt, I use my key on his front door and push it open. “Colt?”
I hear him walking down the hall. “Allison?”
He’s wearing a pair of black boxer briefs, nothing else. Well, his brace. Oh. I wonder how that’s going to be. Well. I can be on top. That’s fine. I know what I’m doing. Thank God I’m not a virgin. Thank God I have some experience to bring to the table.
Though I have a feeling if our experience was represented by M&Ms, his would be a bowl to my sad fun-size bag.
“Is everything okay? Something going on with mom?”
“It’s me. I…”
And then I move forward, he’s on his crutches, he’s braced against the wall, I close the distance between us and wrap my arm around his neck. Stretch up on my toes, and I kiss him.
He grunts, releasing hold on one of his crutches as he braces his hand on my lower back.
His mouth is hot and sure on mine. He’s shocked for a moment, but it doesn’t take very long for him to get into the rhythm of things. And oh. My. God.
I’ve never really been kissed before. Not like this. Every pass of his tongue over mine is expert. He knows how to change the rhythm. How to command a response from me. I can’t even fully explain it.
It’s like he’s a surgeon, expertly targeting the exact part of my body he wants to with each pass of his tongue. I can feel it, between my thighs, it makes my heart beat faster. I feel it as my nipples get tight, my breasts feeling heavy. He’s just kissing me. He has one hand on me, still and steady on my lower back.
But it’s like he’s touching me all over. Like he’s creating a whole symphony in my body and he’s not even operating at full capacity. He’s barely even trying.
