Page 98 of Fighting the Tide
“You’re being quiet,” she murmurs as I pull away from the bar and head back toward Chatham.I can hear the slight tremor in her voice, as if she detects danger and has the sense to be apprehensive.
I roll down my window and gulp in the fresh air, hoping to clear my senses of her.“Yeah.”The single word is clipped and hoarse, filled with restraint.
“I’m sorry I called you.I didn’t have anyone else—”
“Don’t you ever apologize for calling me.I’d rather you always call me first.Understand?”My gruff voice is not relaying the message as well as I’d like, so I take a deep breath and watch as Chatham’s town sign goes by.“I’m not mad,” I say in a softer tone.
“You’re sexy when you’re mad,” she whispers, the heat in her voice making me swerve and almost landing us in a ditch.
“Colette,” I warn, the syllables dragged out with the agony I feel from holding myself back.I’m on the brink of breaking and when I finally do, she’s going to be thoroughly ravished.There’s noifI break any longer, it’swhen.
“Colette,” she mocks me, dropping her voice and growling.I turn to look out my window to hide the smile threatening to spill as she continues.“I had two guys offer to buy me drinks tonight.”The smile falls from my lips as I stare straight ahead out of the windshield, my jaw nearly crushing with tension.“I couldn’t even look at them, barely spoke a word because I am so fucking hung up on you.A man twice my age.”
A sick relief flows through me and I want to praise her, to tell her she’s a good girl, but I keep my mouth shut as I ride the very thin line of my restraint.It’s hard to hear her speak about other men coming on to her, especially knowing it happened with her mother and didn’t end well.The rest of the ride to her house is in silence.Her face turns to stare out of her window as I try to bring myself back under control.I pull into her driveway and park the vehicle, sitting idle as I wait for her to head inside.
“You can always come to me, okay?”I say as she turns to look at me.She looks like the loneliest girl in the world and it breaks my fucking heart, because so was her mother.So I make her the same promise I vow never to break.“If you need anything, come find me.”
“Okay,” she whispers with a nod.“I will.”
“Promise me,” I demand as she undoes her seat belt.
Her answer is to climb over the center console and straddle my waist, settling to sit on my straining cock.I slip my arms around her to grip the steering wheel at her back, trying with the last fraying fiber of my control to keep my hands from exploring her.Once I start, there’s no way I’ll stop.She leans in and licks a path from my cheek to my ear, her breath coated with mint and whiskey.“Keep those hands on the wheel.I’ll be the bad girl and you can be the victim.”
“Fuck,” I groan as she grinds down onto my lap, feeling my hard cock through my sweatpants.Her hands slip up under the hem of my T-shirt as her nails drag along the skin of my abs and up over my chest, lifting my shirt with it.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” she purrs as she leans in, her intention to kiss me thwarted at the last second when I turn my face away.“Right, you need results.Tell me, what will you do to me when the results come back and you find out you’re not the father?”
She grinds down onto my cock again, and this time I pump up into her, making her gasp.“Something along those lines,” I grit out from between my teeth as I grip the wheel painfully tight.
“You’re massive,” she moans as her hands drop from my chest to land on her bare thighs.“What if you are my father?”She leans in again as her hair brushes my face.My sickness only grows as my cock jerks against her with her words, making my stomach dip.What the fuck is wrong with me?“Yeah.”She snickers and leans back against my hands, her fingers dragging her skirt up to her waist.“You’ll still want me, won’t you?”
Colette’s filthy mouth has me like fucking steel in my pants, but when I look down at the topic of our discussion, I find her skirt around her waist and her bare pussy on display.One hand leaves the wheel and fastens quickly around her throat as I snarl, “Are you not wearing underwear?”
Her answer is to stick two fingers past my lips, forcing my mouth open.I’m too shocked to do anything else but obey as she rubs them over my tongue.Then she pulls them back out, the digits glistening between us, and rubs them between her legs.My hand drops from her throat to land on the center console, my arms shaking as I fight to keep them still.“I’m going to come so fast,” she gasps as her body trembles and her hips begin to jerk upward.
I’m lost in the guttural sounds leaving her mouth, in the scent of her arousal permeating the air, and her facial expression as she finds her release with my saliva on her fingers.Her throat extends as the tendons protrude on a scream, and all I can do is watch her rapture like a starved man wishing for a morsel.
I peel my left hand off the wheel, my knuckles cracking from the constant strain I put them through, and open the vehicle door.“Pull your skirt down and head on inside.”Her cheeks bloom red with embarrassment as she slowly does as I ask, her eyes avoiding mine.I grasp her chin in my hand and force her to look at me, those beautiful eyes searing into my soul.“Don’t be embarrassed.I just need you to get inside.”She nods and steps out of the Range Rover, flashing me her ass as she quickly hauls the skirt into place.
She turns to look at me as I hand her the purse she left on the passenger seat and whispers a “good night” as she rushes to her front door.I close the vehicle door and watch until she’s safely inside, then pull out of her driveway, taking deep breaths of her scent as I fight the instinct to turn around.
Chapter Forty-Two
Thefirststrikeoflightning skates across the sky as I drive toward the cottage, the flash shining light on my shame.I’m not ashamed of what happened between us, butwhereit happened.In my fucking car like teenagers.She deserves better.
With the first boom of thunder, the rain falls like a heavy sheet, obscuring the road in front of me.I slow down to a crawl as my wipers work overtime to clear the windshield.I try to concentrate on getting home, but the image of Colette’s legs spread on my lap keeps sneaking back through my mind, and I find myself imagining if I gave in.Another rumble of thunder sounds just as I reach my driveway, and I sigh with relief as I pull in.Lightning lights the sky as I open the door and run for the cottage, the rain pelting my skin like stones being thrown from the sky.
I get inside and fall against the door, releasing a breath as I stare down at my soaked-through shirt and sweatpants.I’m relieved Colette is home and safe because I couldn’t imagine her getting there on her own in this storm.Thunder sounds, and it feels as though it’s vibrating through my door, the feeling skating along my thigh.My hand lands on my pocket and I feel my phone, realizing I’m getting a text.
Frantically, I reach into my pocket and grab it, worried that Colette is in danger when I see the message is from Monica.My hand begins to shake as water drips from my skin, but I can’t seem to move to swipe the message open or breathe for that matter.The storm fades into white noise as everything around me blurs and I stumble toward the kitchen island, dropping my phone to the surface.
I need to know what’s in that message, but I feel like I’m encased in lead.Fear of the truth is rendering me immobile.With a push off the island, I move away from the phone and the message to head for the minibar, hoping a bit of liquid courage will help.It might not even be about the results.Monica would just be getting home from the hospital and she could just be checking in.Even with those thoughts, my hand shakes as I open the bottle and pour a glass, the liquid spilling onto the tray beneath.
“Fuck,” I snap and tighten my hold on the glass as I bring it to my mouth and drain it in two gulps.I immediately pour another as the storm comes rushing back, the sounds crashing around me.The cottage seemingly shakes with the thunder as the lightning pours through the windows and illuminates the room.That’s a good sign that I’m coming out of my shock and maybe with one more drink, I’ll be able to face the message on my phone.I swallow the whiskey, letting it burn a trail to my stomach, igniting a warmth to chase the cold from my skin, and then I head back to that island.
My phone is nothing more than a small square, yet what’s sitting inside of it has the power to change my entire life.No matter what it says, my life will be different from that moment onward, and maybe that’s what I need.I’m done living this mundane existence.A day-to-day life of isolation and heavy guilt.
I grab the phone and swipe it open, my bravery stemming from alcohol and conviction.I press on the text icon and then Monica’s name, doing it in quick succession so I can’t back down.It’s not long, only a few lines, so I swallow down the last bit of nerves and read it.
