Filthy Beautiful Love (16 page)

"Yes, fuck me. Harder," she begs.

I oblige, pounding into her relentlessly, my frame dominating her much smaller one.

Her eyes wander down to the place where we're joined and she watches me slide in and out of her. It's an erotic sight – watching her as she watches us. I can read every emotion and bit of pleasure slashed across her features. When I push deep, her breath hisses out in an exhale and when I retreat her eyes follow the path of my glistening shaft with a hungry look.

Sophie

We make love against the bathroom counter, our bodies moving frantically together. It's exactly what I need – desperate, hungry kisses, the granite counter hard and cool beneath me, gentle fingers whispering through my hair, soft kisses pressed to my temple. I'm grateful to feel something other than numb.

"Yes, fuck me. Harder," I beg, gripping his shoulders.

Colton slams against me, his thick cock sliding in and out in a punishing rhythm.

My gaze lowers from his and I look between us to the spot where we're joined. The sight is erotic and carnal, and my insides clench around him, teasing a low groan from his throat.

"You like that baby?" He surges forward again, burying himself to the hilt and my head drops back.

"Yess…" I groan. "Harder," I beg again.

He suddenly lifts me from the counter, scooping me up underneath my butt and carrying me toward the bedroom.

He dumps me down onto the mattress and gazes down at me. His hard cock is wet with my juices and his abs are clenched tight, but his face is completely composed and in control. "Get on your knees."

I obey, quickly scrambling onto my hands and knees. Perched on the bed completely naked and ready, I wait to see what he has in store for me. Colton grips behind my knees, tugging me backward until I'm positioned at the edge of the mattress. He runs his hands along my legs, my butt, then pushes against my upper back – his hand resting in between my shoulder blades until I lower my chest to the bed. Turning my head, I lay one cheek against the mattress and gaze up at him.

He's still calm and in control and it's utterly sexy.

"You want to be dominated and fucked hard?" he asks.

I nod my head, keeping my eyes trained on his.

His eyes go dark and my insides flip with anticipation.

He aligns himself against me and pushes forward. I love the way my body stretches around him and I push back, drawing him deeper inside.

With one hand secured around the back of my neck, the other palms my ass. I feel his thumb rubbing against my back opening and I shudder. With his cock still pumping into me, he pushes one finger into my ass.

"Goddamn, Sophie," he moans.

Every sensation, every rough whisper of breath lights up my entire body. I push my ass back, meeting his hard thrusts. He's pounding into me, probably bruising me, but I fucking love it.

"Is this what you need? You need me to be rough?" He leans over me and growls against the shell of my ear.

I whimper with delight, my insides screaming:
Yes, yes, yes!

His hips crash into mine, rough cries of pleasure clawing their way up his throat after each brutal thrust.

The orgasm slams through me, robbing me of air and forcing a rough cry from my mouth. I shudder, my insides clamping down on him, deliciously, as I come apart.

Finally, air rushes into my lungs and I repeat his name over and over. I feel the moment his cock swells and his hot release pours into me.

After, Colton rolls me over to face him, then kisses my face – my eyelids, my cheeks, my forehead, telling me how much he loves me. Then he brings me a warm cloth, along with my clothes, and cleans me up.

I feel sated and calm as he dresses me and tucks me into bed. My limbs are tired and sore and between my legs aches in the most wonderful way.

The past several weeks has been endless cycles of wine poured early in the afternoon to help me get through the day, sleeping pills that knock me out at night, and tears that flow way too easily. The grief counselor Colton sent on his first day back to work didn’t help. She could not possibly understand the depth of my relationship with my twin sister. The loss has been unimaginable. My only form of therapy has been jogging. Just as it had been in the days when Becca was sick. It calms me, tires my limbs and helps me cope, if only for a short time. But as I learned tonight, intimacy with the man I love trumps everything else. I feel better than I have in days.

A knock on the bedroom door captures our attention. I didn’t know anyone was here.

"Colt?" I ask.

"Be right back."

He shoves his legs into a pair of sweatpants and then goes to answer the door.

Colton

"Everything okay in here?" Pace asks, peeking around me to look inside the room. "I heard screaming."

"Yeah, ignore that."

His expression hardens. "Don't tell me you're thinking with your cock at a time like this."

"Fuck no. My every waking thought is about
her
– taking care of
her
needs. Not my own, trust me."

"And she needed…" He raises his eyebrows.

"Fucking drop it," I bark.

"Fine. Food's ready," he says, rolling his eyes.

"Bring it in."

I've dressed Sophie in a pair of pajamas and she's sitting up against the headboard, her legs covered by the blankets when Pace comes in.

"Pace? I didn’t know you were here." Her cheeks flush as she realizes that she had loud, intense sex while he was in the house. Sophie watches him move across the room while balancing a tray in his hands.

"He cooked for you while I was…taking care of you."

She shares a knowing smile with me before turning her attention back to Pace.

The room smells like sex and I'm hoping he doesn't notice. If he does, he doesn’t say anything.

"What is it?" Sophie asks, beaming up at Pace.

"Coco said you like macaroni and cheese and pink Starbursts." He treats her to one of his crooked grins, using my childhood nickname that has stuck.

"Starbursts?" Her eyes whip over to mine.

Her reaction is unexpected. "Is that okay, sweetness?"

Pace lowers the tray to her lap. There's a bowl of macaroni and cheese that doesn’t look half bad, despite being prepared by my shockingly-able-to-cook-brother, and a glass candy dish filled with pink wrapped candies. He must have opened all the packages and removed only the pinks. Nice touch. 

Tears well in Sophie's eyes and she looks from me to Pace, then back again. "How did you know?" she asks, a single tear leaking from the corner of her eye. She brushes it away with the back of her hand.

I shrug. "I just did." I don't want to embarrass her by explaining that I overheard her peeing and mumbling drunkenly about the candy.

"She really is still here, huh?" Sophie says to no one in particular as she unwraps one of the candies, and places it in her mouth. She closes her eyes and chews it slowly, releasing a little sigh of happiness.

Pace and I exchange a look and briefly wonder if she's totally lost it, but then Sophie encourages us to sit on the bed with her while she eats, and she relays the story about the candy she and her sister always shared and Becca's last words to her in her letter.

My chest tightens as I understand the depth of meaning behind this and the incredible bond these two shared, as well as the sacrifices Sophie made to make her sister happy. My girl is incredible in so many ways.

After a few bites of the macaroni, Sophie thanks Pace and tells us that she's sleepy. Pace takes the dishes away and after turning off the lights, I curl around her on the bed, clutching her tightly against me and hold her until her breaths turn slow and even and she falls asleep.

Chapter Fifteen

Sophie

Becca has been screaming at me all day. As I sit around sulking in my usual fashion, I swear I can feel her. I can practically
hear
her. She's telling me to get up off my ass and get on with things. And I hate her for it.

I've returned to working part time with Kylie. I've been jogging several times a week. Things are back to normal with me and Colton. He no longer withholds himself from me anymore. He gives himself to me freely, understanding that our shared intimacy helps me. But I'm still not
me
and through some strange twin connection thing, Becca is calling me out on it.

I jog up the stairs and pull the letter from the special box on top of the dresser that I keep it in. I re-read it twice, looking for clues. The penis drawing still makes me laugh.

Focus, Sophie.

The third time through the letter, I get it. Realization slaps me across the face. She doesn’t want me just going through the motions of my life – working, jogging, making love with my boyfriend at night. She wants more from me. She wants more
for
me. At the pool party she challenged me to live each day like it was my last.

I sink down onto the bed with the letter in my hands.

Shit
.

I want to yell at her, tell her that it's not that easy to do. The truth is I have no idea how to go about it. All my life I've lived to please others. I kept good grades and never gave my parents a reason to worry –they had one daughter with cancer – they didn’t need any additional stress in their lives. I was a good sister, a good person. Polite, well-mannered, everything I was supposed to be. Selling myself at the auction was the craziest thing I've ever done, and even that wasn't for me.

Dammit, Becca.

I have impossible conversations with myself all afternoon, trying to figure out what she wants from me. Sky-diving? Bungee-jumping? What?

And then it hits me.

She never wanted me to do something crazy just for the adrenalin rush. All she wanted was for me to be happy.

"I'm getting there," I say to the empty kitchen.

God, I feel like I'm losing it.

I check the clock. One more hour until Colt is home.

One hour to come up with something to do tonight to prove to myself that I can do this whole living life to the fullest thing.

Colton

On the drive home from work, my thoughts drift to Sophie.

I don’t know how I was lucky enough to go home with Sophie that night, but over the course of the past several months, I've been thankful for that fact countless times. She saved me from a bitter and lonely existence. And now I'm taking care of her through the hardest part of her life. But I see her progress little by little each day.

I'm helping her to live again – and remind her often that it's what Becca would have wanted. I stop on my way home from work and pick up packages of Starbursts, hiding the pinks around the house for her to find – one set next to her morning coffee, one in her makeup drawer, another in her running shoe. The smile in her eyes when she finds them makes my chest tighten.

I see her strength every time she laces up her running shoes, every time she cooks for me, in every smile, in every laugh – I can feel her bravery. She's choosing to live.

Of course, some days are still hard. Some days her eyes are puffy from crying when I return home from work, and it breaks my heart. But little by little, I'm getting my sweet Sophie back.

But tonight is the best. Because there's a little rosy glow to her cheeks and her eyes are bright with mischief.

"What are you up to Miss Evans?" I ask her, after arriving home from work.

"Nothing. I just have plans for us after dinner, is all." She smiles sweetly and my chest tightens.

We share a meal of roast duck that Beth has prepared and I fill Sophie in on the details of my company's progress. Things have really turned around. It's nice having someone to share the ups and downs with. She's successfully broken down my walls and taught me what it means to fully share yourself with another. In the past, I would have kept all my business shortcomings bottled up. Now I know there's nothing I need to hide from her. She accepts me as I am. It's the most beautiful feeling in the world. With her, I feel whole.

We finish eating and I'm just about to ask her what she'd like to do tonight when my phone starts ringing. I turn it over and the name
Stella
is displayed across the screen.

"Why is Stella calling you?" Sophie scrunches her nose in disgust.

"Good fucking question."

"Answer it," she says.

Christ
.
Here we go
. "Hello?"

"Hi Colton," she says.

"Why are you calling, Stella?" The annoyance in my voice is unmistakable.

"I have a few things I wanted to say."

"Sophie's here with me. I'm putting you on speaker." I click the speaker-phone button without waiting for a response. I won't have her wondering what is being discussed between me and my ex-wife, and I won't deliberately hide anything from her.

Stella clears her throat and momentarily stalls. "I never meant to be the villain, Colton," she says softly. Sophie squints down at the phone in my hand as Stella continues. "I was young and foolish. I loved you–in my own way–but I realized quickly after we wed that it wasn't a forever kind of love. You worked long hours, you were building a company at such a young age and were so driven and singularly focused. I wasn't cut out to live my life in the shadows of your work. I felt neglected and as wrong as it was, I let myself get swept up in the attention of another man. I felt wanted and desired and those were things I'd been missing from you. You provided everything I could want materially–but you weren't emotionally available to me. And I'm not blaming you. We just didn’t have that deep connection. Your work was your first priority."

"Why I are you telling me all this now?" I ask, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. I don't know what game she's playing, but if it's forgiveness she wants, she's barking up the wrong fucking tree. She cheated on me – slept with our gardener, then took half my damn money. Relationships take work – if she was unhappy in our marriage, she could have talked to me about it.