Page 40 of Freeing Denver

Chapter 11

Colt

Fighting every instinct to work is difficult, but I do. I sleep, I relax in bed, and Denver stays with me as much as she can. There are some days when I can barely open my eyes, others when I’m itching to do something,anything, and on those days, people keep me company when Denver can’t. I sit with Ronan, too, watching him kept alive with machines and tubes. He hasn’t gotten worse, but he hasn’t gotten better, either. It’s been weeks, and I hope to God he wakes up soon.

On the long days, Holly watches movies with me, Taf talks my ear off about JJ, and when Alistair eventually shows up, I do what I should have done the moment I said those awful things to him.

“I’m sorry,” I say as he sits beside me on the bed. “I didn’t mean any of it.”

He exhales. “You weren’t totally wrong, though. If I’d been less of a prick to Denver, she’d have told me before she stepped foot in Vince’s house.” He takes a handful of popcorn from the bowl between us and scoops it into his mouth. “You were still a fucking dick, though.”

“I know.”

He chews, then swallows. “Moody prick.”

“Useless dickhead.”

He smirks and snatches the controller. “What is this shit you’re watching?”

After a week, I need to push myself. So, I walk Wesson. We go farther every day. The first time I try to jog with him, the dog looks at me with pity as I grip my knees, barely able to breathe, but I keep going. I pull back when Denver snaps at me for doing too much, and I push myself further when I know I can handle it. The headaches subside—mostly. Waking up gets easier. Staying awake does, too.

My head clears.

And after what feels like forever, I stand in front of the mirror, buttoning up my shirt. I roll up the sleeves, closing my fingers into my palm to watch the ink shift across my skin, then finally look at my reflection.

Running my hand across my beard, I spot a few new grays in the black. I don’t feel like I look older, but maybe that’s wishful thinking. The shit I’ve been through would age anyone.

“Colt Harland,” a smooth, seductive voice says from behind me. I smirk at Denver’s reflection as she saunters over to me, looking like a fucking dream. Pencil skirt, loose blouse and heels, she’s a businesswoman with a bloodstained past. She stands beside me. “I forgot how good you look like this.”

I angle my head to look down at her. “And how do I look?”

“Powerful,” she breathes, eyes sparkling. She pulls her red-painted bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it slowly. We haven’t had sex yet. A few handsy orgasms, but nothing more. She insisted rest meant rest, even though I’ve caught her gazing at me like this on more than a few occasions.

But looking at her right now, there’s no way I’m resisting any longer.

I face her, slipping my hand to the back of her neck and angling her head up. Just being this close to her has my cockthickening, and I gently grip her hair. Her lips part, and I admire the flush climbing up her neck.

“I’ve forgotten how good you look with my cock buried inside you,” I say, and she shudders, leaning into me, her gaze becoming glassy with desire. “So why don’t you be a good girl and remind me?” She weakens in my hold. “Skirt up. Panties down. Hands against the wall. The heels stay on.”

Her throat dips with a cautious swallow. “People are waiting for us.”

I tighten my grip on her hair. “Then they’ll wait. And when we join them, your pussy will be dripping with my cum.”

She’s almost panting as she does as I ask, shimmying the figure-hugging skirt up her hips. Heat climbs down my spine and through my cock as she pushes down her lace panties, the material pooling at her feet before she steps out of them. Her hands are flat against the wall as I kneel behind her, burying my face between her thighs and groaning like a starved man finally being fed.

“I hate that I can’t throw you on that bed, lock the door, and fuck you to within an inch of your life,” I say against her pussy as she arches her back, needily pushing herself against my mouth. I swipe my tongue up her, and her cry is muffled in the wall.

I stand, unbuckling my belt. “Stuffing you full of my cum will have to do for now.”

“I want all of it,” she moans. “I want it warm in my pussy while we’re in that meeting.”

After weeks of not feeling her warmth around my dick, I’m so hard it’s almost painful. I swipe between her legs, sucking my finger clean.

I position myself, gliding my cock across her wetness. “I’m not going to be gentle, Del.”

She grins at me over her shoulder. “Have I ever asked you to be?”

God, I love this woman.