Keep It Together (18 page)

Anal sex was hot and tight and his guilty little pleasure. Not all women would allow it; not many who did even liked it. He had a feeling Chrissie would. He had a feeling Chrissie would like a lot of different sexual play.

He pushed his index finger against her hole. With as wet as she was, as coated with her juices as his fingers were, sliding it inside her took very little effort. It slipped in with relative ease, and the muscles clenched around it. “Baby?”

“Do it again.” She was breathless yet breathing heavy. He obliged her by pulling his finger out, tracing again the path from cunt to asshole, and this time inserted his middle finger. It sank deeper, and when she pushed her ass up toward him, he slid his index finger in alongside it.

Some women needed an incredible amount of time to adjust to one finger, and even longer to adjust to two. Chrissie was bearing down and wiggling again.

“Do you want them out?”

“Feels weird. Good and too much at the same time.”

“In or out?”

“More.”

Colt leaned forward and kissed the globes of her ass, first the right, then the left. He pulled his fingers out, slowly, then inched forward, sliding his cock under her until the head stroked against her pussy. Precum along with the lube he’d added prior to touching her mixed with her wetness, and the glide was smooth as silk.

He brought her to the edge again, and wanted so badly to push her over. “Ready?”

“Oh, please, yes,” she said on an exhale. “I need to come, Colt.”

“I know you do. And you will. I promise.” He positioned his cock. As he started forward into her ass, he reached around her waist and down between her legs. “When you need me to stop, tell me.”

Her hands gripped the headboard until her knuckles turned white. Perspiration coated her body. Her panties were down around her knees. Her blonde hair was in a messy ponytail at the back of her head. She was uncontrolled, in heat, and giving her virgin ass to him.

She didn’t tell him to stop, but he went so slow, he thought stopping might be less torturous. He wanted to bottom out, then fuck like a madman, but he refused to hurt her, refused to rip the tender tissue. He needed this to be pleasant and pleasurable and as addicting for her as it was for him.

Every few seconds he held still, letting the fluttering of her muscles tease him, letting her adjust.

When he was all the way in, he did stop. She was breathing even heavier, and her bottom muscles trembled as they adjusted to the invasion. “Chrissie? Baby?”

She worked her hands up the headboard where they’d slid down, and pulled herself up. “I’m…fine…but if you don’t move, if you don’t…” She pushed her backside into his pelvis. “If you don’t fuck me and make me come, so help me…”

Colt chuckled in spite of the serious tone of her voice. “My dick is in your ass, and you’re threatening me?”

“Damn right. God… It’s so full, overflowing. Colt, please… Don’t make me beg.”

“Would you? Beg?” He pumped his hips forward in small movements that made her groan.

“Y-yes. I’ll shoot you too if you don’t get on with it.”

“Demanding little girl, aren’t you?” But damn, he loved every bit of her. And he’d give her what she wanted. Keeping his fingers on her clit, he inched out of her ass, then met the backward thrust of her hips with a forward one of his own. This back and forth, give-and-take fucking was not what he’d expected for her first time with anal sex, but maybe it should have been.

She wasn’t shy about what she wanted sexually, and if it felt good enough for her, if it was giving her what she wanted and needed, then he’d match whatever pace she set, and she set a quick, single-minded one. Her own release was what drove her. He could see it in the movement of her hips and how she made her clit rasp over his fingers. His cock moved easily inside her ass and she took him on a ride.

And dear God, it was the best damn trip he’d ever taken.

The undulating of her body, the brush of her bottom against his stomach, then the clutch and release of her muscles surrounding him. She was tight, hotter than Texas in August, and she was his. Her ass fit him like a glove, and she was wearing him out.

“Colt.” She whispered his name, gasped it until she cried. Her orgasm shook her entire body and choked the fuck out of his dick. She shuddered, and her body couldn’t stop—wouldn’t stop—spasming.

“Right here, baby.” He lowered himself over her body, worked her bra hooks free, then slid his hands under her. He cupped her tits in his palms, and she shuddered again. As she started to quiet, to ease up on him, he pulled almost all the way out, then plunged in.

He took her ass hard for the few seconds he had before his balls drew up and emptied through the head of his cock. He licked at her skin, tasted the saltiness of her sweat, listened through her back to the pounding of her heart. “I definitely think it’s the camo.”

Beneath him, she giggled, then outright started laughing. Nothing in the world that he’d ever experienced was more perfect, and he was more than grateful that his brother had been an unmitigated fool and let her go.

* * * *

“I have something for you.”

The man gave her more than she could ever possibly have imagined wanting in bed that she didn’t need anything else outside it. Except maybe sleep. He wore her the hell out. “What?” she inquired on a yawn.

Colt pulled a box out from the bottom of his suitcase. “Well, if that’s how you feel, I’ll leave these until tomorrow.”

“I’m tired, and my ass is sore. I just wanna lay here, close my eyes, feel you in bed with me again finally.”

“I can get on board with that. You’re right. The cookies can wait.”

One eye opened. “Cookies?”

Colt slowly started to put them back in his suitcase. “Yeah. Brought a batch made just this morning because I thought it would be special for you, but you’re tired and need rest. They can wait.”

Both her eyes were open now, and she was leaning up on one elbow. “Colt?”

“Hmm?”

“Bring me the cookies.”

“No, no. You go on to sleep. I’ll put them in the kitchen and lock up downstairs.”

“No, no. You’ll bring me the cookies.”

“Eating in bed is a bad idea.”

“I’ve eaten in worse places.”

“Go on to sleep, baby.” She was out of the bed and had the box of cookies snatched out of his suitcase before he could turn around. She laughed as he spun in a circle to see her holding the prize against her chest. “They’re probably crushed by now.”

“Don’t care. You brought them for me, so you don’t get to keep them away from me.” She crawled back into the bed, arranged herself cross-legged, and opened the box. The scent of chocolate and creamy sugar wafted up, and she inhaled. “I love you,” she said, the words reverent with meaning.

“Me or the cookies?”

“Umm. I meant the cookies, but yeah, you too.”

“Brat.” Colt stole a cookie from the box and sat across from her, also cross-legged.

“You. Of course you.” She nibbled at the edges of a chocolate pyramid, then scraped the cream off with her teeth. “It’s like a fairy tale. The Huntress and the Cookie Maker.”

“I suppose it is.”

“How can it feel so right? A year ago I was engaged to a man who I never felt this with.”

“When it’s right, it’s right. I know it in my soul
this
, you and me, is right.”

“These cookies are right too,” she added before she stuffed the rest of her cookie in her mouth. She swallowed and looked down, toying with another. “I know it’s right. I don’t know how I know it, I just do. It feels different, incredible. I don’t want to lose it even though it’s whirlwind and too wonderful.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you. Do you know why?”

“Because I’ll hunt you down and steal all your cookies and shoot you in the leg so you can’t chase me?”

“You and the damn cookies.”

“You and the damn bras and panties.”

“Fine. See? We each have a fetish.” He reached out and swiped a few crumbs from the corner of her mouth. “No, because I love you. I know it as sure as I know my name.”

“I guess I was correct, then.”

“About what?”

“When I said I should have married you instead.”

“Yes. You were. And yes, you will.”

“Can we…” She hesitated and lowered her gaze to the box of cookies.

“Can we what?”

“Have a cookie cake?”

“And here I thought you were going for serious when all you want…” He shook his head in mock disappointment. “Yes. Yes, we can have a cookie cake. We can have anything you want as long as I can have you.”

Chrissie picked up a cookie and held it out to him, a smile full of love on her lips. He reached for it, but before he could grasp it, she crumbled it in his lap.

“What the—”

It wasn’t until she got to her knees and lowered herself over the box and placed her head in his lap that he moaned his understanding. Chrissie smiled as she licked at the chocolate and cream cookie bits, smiled as he fisted his hand in her hair and dragged her up the length of his cock, smiled as he lay back and guided himself into her mouth, smiled because she was getting married, getting a cookie cake and a man who would help her keep it all together when she flew apart and went in search of ammunition.

Oh yes, she thought, licking a line up the underside, up the throbbing vein, this was definitely a man worth smiling about.

Epilogue

“You do realize we’re thumbing our noses at tradition, right?” Not that Colt cared one whit. He only cared about one thing, and that was the woman in white coming down the stairs toward him. It wasn’t the same gown she’d worn before, for obvious reasons, not the least of which was the fact that that one was full of shotgun holes and wadded up somewhere. The dress she wore for him now was beautiful and elegant, and it completely fit her personality as there were no outward frills such as lace or ruffles.

“Tradition didn’t seem to work out all that well for me the first time around so…” Chrissie reached the bottom of the staircase and stood in front of him. She was nearly his height in the heels she wore. He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose.

“I’m happy, you know.”

“That’s a very good thing. I’m happy too. I…” She walked around him and picked up her purse, her gown swishing around her legs as she walked. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“We could have waited as long as you wanted.”

“I didn’t want to wait, though. I’ve learned that when it comes to you and what I want, it’s best to take immediate action. It’s more fun that way.”

“So the ‘good things come to those who wait’ adage doesn’t apply to us?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm. Then that means I don’t have to wait until tonight to get into your panties?”

“You were into my panties last night and this morning. You can wait a few more hours.”

“But I don’t want to wait. You just said—”

“Oh, shut up. We have an appointment with the pastor outside.”

“Has your mother decided to forgive you for not using the church again?”

“Probably not. She’s likely terrorizing the caterers outside though, keeping herself busy. Russ is going to show up this time, right?”

Colt laughed. “Yes. Thank you for agreeing to him being my best man.”

“Why wouldn’t I? He’s your brother, and it was important to you.”

“It was important, but we would have both understood if it bothered or upset you.”

“I’m in love with you, Colt, not him.”

“But you used to be.”

“Not like this, and it’s been well established that you are the right brother?”

“Oh, I’m definitely the right brother. I was just reminding you that—”

“Don’t think you can hold that over my head forever. I have guns, remember?”

“How can I forget? There’s one in every room of the house. Are you ever going to teach me how to shoot?”

“Yes. But only after we’re married.”

Colt eyed her closely. The staring contest didn’t last long as she dropped her gaze and busied herself with straightening her skirt. “Chrissie, my love?”

“Y-yes, Colt, my love?” she responded. Her voice was all sweetness and innocence, and he didn’t buy it for a second.

“You have a garter on under that dress?”

“Of course. We are observing some traditions. Garter, witnesses, something blue, borrowed, old, new. Ex-fiancé as the best man,” she teased with the last statement. “Why do you ask?”

“What else do you have under it besides the garter?”

“Panties, of course. I’m not walking down the aisle without panties on.”

“Of course. And?”

“N-nothing else.”

Colt advanced on her. “I don’t believe you. Either you lift the skirt of that dress or I do. What else is under it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We have guests arriving and should greet them.” She patted the lapel of his suit jacket and took two steps to the side before he caught her arm.

“You’re lying to me, baby. Not a good way to start off our new life together. Foot up on the bottom stair, please.” He turned her and steered her back to where she’d been. She didn’t struggle, but she did smile up at him, batted her pretty brown eyes, but he wasn’t moved. She was hiding something and he had an idea what it was, but he needed to see it for himself.

“I’m hurt you don’t trust me.”

“I’m hurt you think I don’t trust you.”

“You called me a liar.”

“Prove me wrong.”

“Damn,” she muttered through gritted teeth. She slammed her foot on the bottom step, and he stood behind her, reached around, and slowly dragged the skirt of her wedding dress up. Her legs were smooth, muscled, and would be wrapped around him in a few short hours. But first…

“I knew it. A shotgun wedding? Really, Chrissie? I’m so disappointed.”

“It’s not a shotgun. It’s a Smith and Wesson .38 revolver.”

Colt smiled at the obviousness of the weapon and followed the line of the barrel with the tip of his finger. “I like the blue grip.”

“It’s custom-made.” Her breath was coming a little shallow now. Colt left the gun and traced his way around the white satin-and-lace garter. The muscles in her thigh trembled in response to his touch.