Page 47 of The Chase

“Yes,” she found her throat sticking, too.

He pulled out as his cock softened. She instantly missed him as his cum seeped out of her. She let out a sound, mourning his departure. But then a knock sounded on the door.

He pushed himself into a kneeling position. Then, up onto his feet, letting out a groan as he unsteadily rose.

“Room service,” a voice behind the door said.

“Too old for fucking on a hardwood floor,” he said as he staggered slightly, but grinned from ear to ear. His eyes were alive and dancing, a slight flush to his face. She couldn’t help but grin back, pushing herself up to a sitting position.

Colt padded to the door, which wasn’t far, they’d only made it a few feet into the room. He bent down and retrieved his pants, which he shucked on without his briefs. There was a knock at the door again, three short wraps.

“Yes, yes, I’m coming,” Colt said, wearing his chinos undone and hugging his hips, his paler skin and hair of his pubic region on display. April watched, half horrified, half hypnotized as he answered the door in his state of blatant post-sex undress.

It was the concierge, Ash. Looking as buttoned up and put together as a man could possibly be, contrasting Colt almost comically, carrying a tray covered in a series of silver cloches.

April grabbed the throw blanket off the bed and scrambled to her feet.

Ash’s face remained deadpan as he handed the tray to Colt, who took it wordlessly. Ash’s gaze drifted up and down Colt, lingering knowingly. Ash looked hungrily at Colt.

“Yeah, you don’t need to say anything, Ash,” Colt said, cutting off any witty quip Ash might have come up with. Ash grinned and his eyebrows flew up. Colt turned and kicked the door closed with the heel of his foot.

* * *

Later,April sat back and watched as Colt lounged in the white, fluffy robe and took a sip of his tea. Yes, tea, she shook her head slightly. She had found a kettle and brewed them both a cup of orange blossom green tea. Colt was dutifully drinking it out of a china tea cup she had passed to him. She insisted it would be good for their digestion. Colt had wordlessly accepted her offering and they smiled at each other with amusement.

She absently twirled her ring around on her ring finger. She knew it wasn’t real, but… After battening her pinging heartstrings back into place inside her chest, she had glided around that store earlier, looking at rings on their dainty little velvet ring pads. She picked one easily, it had called to her. A gold band, with a halo diamond, surrounded by other smaller diamonds. She knew this wasn’t real, she had almost not picked that one because she loved it too much. It was exactly what she’d want if they were getting married for real. Which they weren’t, it was just for show. Just for a disguise at the retreat. But then she had thought, taking a page from Colt’s book, fuck it. That’s the one she wanted, so that’s what she’d get.

The food was good. “Cajun okra fries... tomato basil sourdough bruschetta... cumin beetroot dip...” April read from the little menu card she’d snatched up as she helped herself. Colt attacked the food under the cloches, too. She’d then found the terry cloth robes on the bathroom door, happily snuggled into one, and surprisingly Colt had followed her lead. Now he was reclined on the bed, holding the little saucer that matched the cup as he downed the final gulps of his tea.

April raised her eyebrows, she was nowhere near finished with hers. She smiled at him. “Like it? You want more?” she asked him.

He frowned. “No, I want dinner finished so we can fuck in the shower,” he answered with a side smirk, all confidence now. It suited him.

April choked on a mouthful of her tea.

“Then, finally, in bed. This is the kind of bed you deserve, the kind of bed I always imagined you in...” he trailed off, shyly.

She didn’t want him to get trapped inside his head again and lose his nerve. “Have you seen the shower?” she asked, putting down her cup of tea on the bedside table nearest where she was sitting. As she stood the robe started to open, automatically she went to adjust it, and tighten it around her. Then, thinking better of it, she let it drop to the floor.

Colt held her gaze as she stood there, naked. His smirk slid off his face and he looked at her like she was dessert. Something chocolatey and sinful to be savored. She smiled, loving her power over him. Loving how he reacted to her, wanted her. She hadn’t had sex twice in the same night for a long time. Hadn’t felt the need to, or been with anyone who had felt the need for her. To be so unsatisfied the first time, to ignore any physical discomfort, tiredness, to want to climb that mountain again. Only it didn’t feel like a chore, like a hill to climb. With Colt, it felt like a breeze. It felt easy, like being in the van with him, or on the back of that bike. More than easy, thrilling. No doubt about if they’d make it to the top of the hill or not. No question they would get there. Of course they would, together. With Colt, it was a chase, April mused as he stood and shucked off his robe, too. But they were now together side by side and running downhill. Holding hands, tumbling, tripping, laughing. Caught up in each other.

April tried to hold his gaze, but his body pulled her eyeballs as if they were magnetized. His body was a piece of art to be admired. And by the sound of it, no one had properly. It sounded like these ’sweet butts’ had willingly picked the flesh from his bones with their grasping claws, all take, take, take. Not giving or appreciating. Well, that changed now.

“Colt, let’s take a shower,” she breathed, and nodded toward the bathroom. He stayed standing stock still. April moved forward. She tugged on his hand, leading him, naked ass and all, into the bathroom.

She clicked on the light and Colt whistled, looking around. Yes, the bathroom was lovely. Pale marble from floor to ceiling. A huge jacuzzi tub, dual vanity, his and hers, a huge walk in shower with a large shower head. It smelled of jasmine and vanilla. The lights were dim, not bright and clinical, more soft and sensual.

April turned on the shower. Hot water sluicing out of the giant chrome shower head, steaming. Colt’s eyes never left her, watching her the whole time. This big, dark, tattooed man, muscles rippling, stood still watching her like his life depended on it. She pushed him then, and was delighted when he followed the momentum, straight under the hot water. He gasped and sighed, lifting his head and let the hot water cascade around him. His hair went almost black, and so much longer weighed down with the water. His nipple bar glinted. The light dusting of wispy, dark hair on his chest and stomach clung darkly to him. She stood outside the shower area and just watched. In this bathroom that reeked of comfort and civility, it was like bringing a wild animal indoors. Strikingly incongruous, visually beautiful. April was captivated by him.

The morning came gently, percolating through the cocoon of white sheets and softness that enveloped him. Colt kept his eyes closed and woke up slowly, reveling in the memories of last night that drifted back to him as he came to. She had given him the space to enjoy the shower by himself for a bit last night. She seemed to have been very happy to continue watching from outside the enclosure. The glass had steamed up, the air had gotten hot and heavy with water droplets. Colt had wiped water from his eyes, blew out and sent droplets of water everywhere. “Coming in, Kitten?” he had asked in a deep voice. “Or are you enjoying the view too much?” He smiled playfully at her.

He felt like a new man, reborn, re-formed from the clay that had forged him. In different hands, her hands, he’d been taken back to the beginning and re-made stronger, better. He felt confidence flowing through him again. And was braver than before. Before prison and all the shit that had gone down. When he was in his heyday, VP in the MC, under Blue. When girls were dropping at his feet, and the guys were doing whatever the fuck he told them to do. When the town let him go where he wanted, cops let him race down the highway. Back then he had been cock-sure, ballsy. But that was because of his youth. Now, he was older and wiser. He felt powerful, it came from having been through shit and coming out the other side. Nothing could hurt him now, not like before. That trembling Chihuahua that had stepped out of prison, blinking in the bright sunlight, waiting like a lost puppy for someone to come and get him... That man was gone. The guy who had felt too worthless to kiss April, or make love to her properly. Declared he wanted to fuck her but too scared to follow through on his promise without screwing it up, that man was gone. He wasn’t the Chihuahua, he wasn’t even a fucking Rottweiler. He was a lion, king of the jungle, with a big fuck-off attitude. And his fierce, beautiful, lethal lioness by his side.

It felt like he’d shucked off the grumpy, unsure outer layer and blossomed. They had showered together, washing every inch of each other. Luxuriating in each other’s bodies and the privacy and comfort of their surroundings. In the shower, steam had swirled around them. They had shampooed each other’s hair and scrubbed each other’s bodies with the fancy bath products provided. When they had felt too hot, they had finally exited the shower, wrapping each other in soft, fluffy towels. Then they climbed onto the bed, he pushed her underneath him, and began the slow process of worshiping every inch of her skin. No part of her went unappreciated. Her breasts, her stomach, her forearms, her calves. And she returned the favor by rolling on top, straddling and touching him, tenderly, lovingly. He had watched her hand come out to stroke his ribs, his pecs, his collarbone. The scar on his abdomen from when some bastard had tried to shiv him when he was in prison. His nipples, flicking his barbell gently. His balls, cupping, rolling them in her palm, enjoying their weight. Parts of him had never been touched that way. Tenderly, with care, like she loved him. He looked up at her, curiously, questioning in his eyes. Trusting her, but not understanding. She said his unassuming modesty was beguiling. He didn’t know what that meant, but she seemed happy, so he was happy. It was a crime that no one had taken the time to love him like this, she claimed. But she wasn’t complaining, she would do it, gladly, without restraint, she joked. After licking and nibbling each other’s bodies, learning them like their own, they had had sex again. Deep, roaring sex that knocks planets out of their orbits. He thought maybe it would be that slow, tender sex they hadn’t yet had, but it wasn’t. It had been less desperate, less urgent, but still pounding heat, slamming hearts, gasping, screaming, shivering.

“Come back to bed Colt, we’ve got time before meeting with the concierge at nine,” she said quietly, pulling him out of his thoughts. She wasn’t begging, not trying to persuade him, more like an instruction. He was already under the covers by the time she finished speaking.

* * *

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