I didn’t want this day to be over. Colt infuriated me as much as he delighted me; he challenged my perspectives, offered a new narrative, and opened up my whole world. All with simple conversation.
While we ate, I asked him more about his childhood and learned that music was one of his biggest hobbies. It kept him sane when he was deployed, and it was, in his words, “a language everyone understands.” He played the fiddle and the guitar, and when his mother pleaded with him, he sang too.
“So, when did—”
“No, no, no,” he said, shaking his head. “My turn to ask you questions. I feel like you know everythin’ there is to know about me at this point.”
He exaggerated. I was far from done.
Colt forked up the last piece of his steak and egg and chewed while his mind worked. At least I’d learned that part about him. I could see when he was trying to figure something out.
When he was finished, he wagged his fork at me. “Let me guess, you’re using some kind of online dating service.”
Okay, I didn’t see that “question” coming. I cleared my throat and placed my napkin on my plate. “I am. Why?”
“What does your profile say?”
I furrowed my brow. If he wanted to get to know me, my OkCupid profile left a lot to be desired. I’d grown resigned about the whole dating jungle. I’d tried Grindr for approximately two days when that was launched last year. I’d tried some dating groups on Facebook too, though I always gave up and returned to the kink site where I had my friends. Even there, it was difficult grasping on to something that interested me.
“It doesn’t say much,” I replied. “I mention that the real estate market is sucking the life out of me, that I enjoy spending time with friends, that I date exclusively in the BDSM community, and…well, you know the type of guy I’m into.” Because he was into the exact same kind of cheeky submissive, with the addition that he enjoyed masochists. “I make it clear what I’m looking for, in other words. That’s about it.”
“That’s fuckin’ boring, Lucas.”
I winced internally and smiled slightly. I was boring, and he was about to find that out. “There isn’t much to know about me.”
Colt shook his head. “I don’t buy it.” He finished his coffee. “How long have you been workin’ for your pop?”
I hummed, thinking back. “Full time…? Four years. Ish. But I started helping him at the office when I was in college.” I’d helped him with advertising campaigns and branding since he realized I had an eye for it. “He called me once.” I chuckled as the memory popped up. “I was somewhere in France—it was the middle of the night, and he called to ask what color to put on his business cards.”
Colt grinned faintly and cocked his head. “What were you doin’ in France?”
Oh boy. “The stereotypical backpacking adventure so many Americans go on after high school or college. I went after high school and was gone for four months.”
“Did you go alone?”
I inclined my head. “I discovered BDSM in Amsterdam.”
He smirked. “Of course you did. In the red-light district, you could finally put a name to all those forbidden fantasies you’d had.”
Well, he was right on the money. My God, I’d lived a predictable life.
“I don’t have the stories you have, Colt,” I admitted. Because it was best just to get it out into the open. So I started rambling.
I was an average guy with an average degree that I wasn’t using very much. And I lived an ordinary DC life. I went out to dinner with friends on the weekends. There was always a new restaurant to try out. Brunch on Sundays. Dinner with my parents once or twice a month. I played squash and badminton with my cousin once a week. Sometimes I took his dog to the park. Money went to rent and food. I didn’t actually live in DC. That was just what you said. I lived in Alexandria. There was a coffee shop down at the corner that I called mine. I ordered the same thing every morning on my way to work.
“Okay, I get it,” Colt chuckled.
“I’m not sure you do.” I frowned, wondering if I got it. Was my life boring? Probably. But the thing was, other than my job situation, I was happy. All right, it was getting tedious to be single. I hadn’t been in a relationship in over two years, and for a while, I’d been content to play with casual partners. That time had passed. “One of my favorite things to do is have friends over at my place,” I told him. “I put a lot of effort into everything from appetizers and dinner to…” I waved a hand. “Hell, the playlist for the evening. But I’m not the storyteller. I go on pleasant vacations every once in a while. I don’t go on risky adventures. I find my joy in the small, everyday things. You, Colt, are a fighter pilot…in every sense of the word. You’re the war hero who gets a book deal one day to write your memoirs. You put everything on the line, and I’m…I’m—”
“You’re the one we come home to,” he said.
I didn’t understand. His words deflated me, only to flood me with confusion.
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “Every storyteller needs their audience, Lucas.” He cracked his knuckles absently, and there was a soft smirk playing on his lips. “Someone who cares to listen to our drivel.”
“You clearly don’t know what drivel is.”
He laughed under his breath and looked down for a moment. Then he lifted his gaze again and shook his head slowly. “Veterans are a dime a dozen, and many of us have the same stories. The same issues, the same hurt. We’re always looking for someone outside the services to understand us, even though we know no one ever will.”
How did anyone respond to that?
I couldn’t even begin to imagine, yet there was this quiet voice in the back of my mind telling me I wanted to understand. Because that was my thing. I wanted to understand people. I wanted to help. I wanted to be there and watch the people I cared for reach their goals and get what they wanted.
I cared for Colt. To an extent, at least.
“I think…” I stopped myself so I could make sure I phrased this properly. “In short, I don’t want to make any assumptions or pretend to know what it is you need, but…if you need someone to listen…”
He nodded once. “I appreciate it. And I could sorta tell that’s the type of Dom you are.”
I smiled and lifted a shoulder. “It’s who I am, period.”
“I didn’t mean for this to get heavy,” I said after some silence. The quiet hadn’t been uncomfortable per se, but I felt our time was running out.
Colt had checked his watch twice in the past five minutes, and he’d declined the last offer of a coffee refill.
He gave me a rueful little grin. “I don’t think either of us did.” He cleared his throat and glanced toward the counter. The register. “I should probably go get a new bus ticket.”
Fuck.
“When were you picking up your car?” he asked.
I sighed. “The mechanic said I shouldn’t drive until it’d been twenty-four hours, so…around seven or eight, something like that.”
He nodded in acknowledgment.
Once I had my car, I was going to spend two hours on the road before I was back home. Two hours. The same amount of time it took to drive from here to Norfolk.
Sweet Jesus, there was something wrong with me. Norfolk was in the other direction, basically. And I was what, thinking about driving him to his parents’ house? And then drive four hours back to DC?
I couldn’t be that desperate to spend more time with him. It was insane. We’d had a hot night. A wonderful evening to wrap up a disastrous week. A nice breakfast.
And maybe one more round in bed? He didn’t check out until noon.
“Let’s go to the bus station, then,” I said. “Perhaps we can kill some time at the hotel after.”
Colt lifted a brow and barely contained the expression that told me he knew what was on my mind. Smug bastard. “You need more cock, baby?”
“Need is a very strong word,” I drawled.
He laughed.
The urgency was supposed to dissipate after we’d gotten off. Instead, he stayed on top of me, buried deep, and kissed me with the same hunger I felt.
I was fucking high on this man.
Once we weren’t panting anymore, I took charge of the kiss. I wove my fingers into his hair and tugged, angling his head where I could kiss him deeper. He groaned lustfully and cupped my cheek. Then he gave a slow thrust, pushing his softening cock deeper, and it drew a shudder from me.
I swept my tongue around his and breathed heavily, fully aware that we were down to the final minutes of our…whatever this had been. Maybe he was just as aware. Maybe that was why he pushed harder, took control again, and kissed me more forcefully.
My heart pounded. The sheets were a twisted mess. My feet slid up his calves, locking him into place. My blunt fingernails raked their way down his back. He exhaled a moan and pressed our upper bodies together, evidently not giving a shit about the release he’d stroked out of me.
Fuck his fucking bus ticket. He had it in the back pocket of his jeans that were thrown somewhere on the floor.
“What time is it?” I muttered, out of breath.
“Don’t remind me.” He dragged his teeth along my bottom lip and gave it a sharp nip. “Had I been fifteen years younger, I would’ve taken you again right now.”
I coughed around a hoarse chuckle and surrendered. If I didn’t offer to take him to Norfolk, I’d regret it. No matter how crazy it was.
“Don’t take the bus,” I told him quietly. That halted all movement, and he furrowed his brow as he looked down at me. I kissed him on his scruffy chin. “I’ll drive you to your parents’ house.”
A silence stretched between us, but I didn’t waver. I could see where his mind went. The questions, the doubt. Yes, I was aware that I’d drive two hours in the wrong direction. Yes, I knew I would be leaving Norfolk in the middle of the night for a four-hour drive to DC. I didn’t care. I wasn’t willing to read into anything beyond that, but I was sure. I wanted a few more hours. I wanted today.
“Are you sure?” He pressed his forehead to mine. “This is nuts, innit?”
Yes to both.
“I’m sure,” I replied. “We’ll head out tonight.”
And I was going to walk down to reception and book us an extra night just so we didn’t have to check out until tonight. Screw it. This was what I wanted.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked with a frown. “The person who drives is in charge of the radio.”
“Not if the driver has shitty taste in music.” Colt fiddled with the channels until he landed on a country station. Then he nodded in satisfaction and sat back again with his fries. “I have so much to teach you.”
I shook my head. “There is nothing wrong with the music I play.” I dug into the McDonald’s bag between us and threw a few fries into my mouth. “Everyone loves Bruce Springsteen.”
“Overrated is what he is,” Colt informed me. “I’ll give him three songs. ‘Born in the U.S.A.,’ ‘The River,’ and ‘I’m on Fire.’ The rest…? He sounds like he hates life when he sings. ’Scuse me, when he whines.”
I pressed my lips together to hide my amusement. He was…passionate about this.
I switched lanes to pass, comically enough, a Greyhound bus. “It’s funny to me that you complain about The Boss whining when you’re seemingly obsessed with a genre that has two very depressing themes. Either someone gets shot down by the creek, or they drink their sorrows away at a sad bar.”
Colt shot me a scowl.
I grinned and unwrapped my last cheeseburger. “Sorry, I forgot the dog. Country songs tend to have dogs.”
He snorted. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ ’bout, slick.” At first, it looked like he was going to settle into silence and enjoy his damn country music, but then he caught a second wind and laid into me. “You know, you’re the reason us real southerners don’t like it when people say Virginia’s part of the South.”
“I’m—”
“I’m not done. I mean, look at you. City boy—you drive a Mercedes! You go to brunch on Sundays. You’ve got a two-hundred-dollar haircut. You listen to Bruce Springsteen like some—”
“I’m pretty sure southerners like him too.”
Colt huffed in frustration and glared. “Does nothing ever rattle you?”
I side-eyed him. Oh…he was trying to rile me up again? Precious boy. I supposed wisdom didn’t always come with age.
I grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles. “My haircut was fifty dollars, I’ll have you know, and I told you I’m from Bethesda, yes?”
“Yeah?” He frowned. “Fake southerner.”
I withheld my laughter and released his hand. “Or perhaps not a southerner at all?”
“Right, but people keep saying Virginia’s the South.”
Oh, bless. Hey, there was a southern phrase I’d grown up with. My mother came from Tennessee after all. That said… “Bethesda is in Maryland.”
“Oh.” Colt cleared his throat and folded his arms over his chest. “Did not know that.”
I laughed silently, fearing he might actually blow if he heard me.
“Look on the bright side,” I said, “there’s even more for you to teach me. For instance, what exactly is a hoedown?”
“Now you’re just fuckin’ with me,” he grumbled.
“Not at all,” I lied. “Teach me, Captain. What is a hoedown?”
I felt his narrowed-eyed look more than saw it.
“No. Fuck that. You’re bein’ all smug,” he said and turned away. Like a child.
I sighed and smiled to myself.
I was smitten.
After about an hour on the road, Colt suggested we stop for coffee.
Darkness had fallen, and we were in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps he wanted to stall too. Either way, I was happy to play along, so I took the next exit that had a truck stop. There was a gas station with a crappy-looking diner attached to it, as well as a Chick-fil-A that was closed.
“You stay here,” Colt said, leaving the car. “I’ll get us coffee and some donuts.”
I was halfway out of the car, so I looked at him quizzically.
“More privacy out here,” he elaborated. “There’re picnic tables over there if you wanna sit outside.”
I glanced over at a semi-wooded area and the three picnic tables that sat on a small lawn. A single light cast a faint glow over the place.
“All right.” I closed the door behind me and locked up.
Colt returned within a couple minutes, and he was on his phone. We sat down at one of the tables. It was a muggy night, leaving a mist around the light next to us.
He handed me my to-go cup. “I’m listenin’! You said—” He sighed. “No, ma’am. I’m not givin’ you attitude.”
I grinned and removed the lid to my coffee, and I blew some steam off the hot beverage. I was willing to bet he was talking to his mother.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m stayin’ safe.”
“Adorable,” I mouthed.
He rolled his eyes and flipped me off.
“Okay,” he said. “We can talk about this soon, though. I’ll be there in an hour and some change.” He wrapped up the call shortly after, and he looked like he’d just suffered half an eternity. “I’m thirty-six years old, I’ve voted in every election, I drink, and I’ve been to war. But around that woman, I’m always seven.”
I chuckled and took a sip of my coffee. “It’s supposed to be that way.” The subtle sweetness of sugar mingled with the strong coffee, and I couldn’t help but ask if Colt had done something.
His brows knit together. “Two sugars, right? I thought for sure I saw—”
“You did.” I smiled. My chest constricted weirdly.
“Messed up, if you ask me,” he went on casually and stuck a hand into the brown paper bag. “If you take sugar in your coffee, you can’t have a donut.”
“Says who?” I laughed.
“My mama.” He winked. “Jelly or regular glaze?”
“Jelly, please.”
“One jelly donut comin’ up.” He handed one over to me, then sucked powdered sugar off his thumb. “By the way, a hoedown is what I holler when I throw you down on the bed.”
I blinked with my donut in midair.
Colt cracked up.
Did the cocky jackass just call me a ho?
“Your face,” he wheezed through his laughter.
Amusement trickled in, and I couldn’t stop staring at him. He was just so out-of-this-world handsome and sexy. Eyes alight, crinkling at the corners.
“Shut up and eat your donut,” I chuckled, shaking my head. Then I got fucking jelly on my T-shirt. Scratch that, on Colt’s T-shirt. “Look what you made me do, asshole.”
Good lord, I had powdered sugar everywhere too.
Colt found that too funny as well. “Keep it. It’ll give me a reason to visit when I come home.”
“This has to be one special tee if you’re coming all the way to DC for it in a year.”
He shrugged and chewed on a mouthful of donut. “I guess your fuckable ass is a second reason.”
“Please, don’t inflate my ego. I can’t take it,” I deadpanned. “I swear—” How frustrating. If he’d been a sub… “I wish I could make you choke on my cock. You arrogant prick.”
“Oh…” His eyes glinted with something dark. “That ain’t a punishment, darlin’. But tell ya what.” He leaned forward as if he were going to whisper a secret. “I actually wanted a stop on the way so I could get my mouth on your cock. If you’re a good boy, I’ll make it happen.”
I narrowed my eyes, ready to spit something sharp back at him, except…my brain was flooded with images of him sucking me off in the car. Fuck.
He’d almost done it twice already, but I’d stopped him because I’d been too revved up and needed him to fuck me. Now, though… Hell, I wanted a last memory of him. Something I could think back on when I was alone in my shower at home.
“Finish your donut,” I said.
It seemed like no time passed between our stop in the dark nothingness and when I pulled up on the street where Colt’s parents lived.
“That house right there, with the pickup parked outside.”
I nodded in acknowledgment and stopped in front of a nice suburban house with a big front yard and a white picket fence.
I killed the engine.
The lamp over the table in the kitchen was lit, and so was a small light in one of the windows on the second floor.
“So, you haven’t been here before?” I asked.
He shook his head, turned away from me. He was studying the house too. “Pop promised Ma her dream house when he retired. He wanted a backyard, and she wanted a big kitchen.” He let out a breath and scratched his arm. “This is most of their savings.”
I hummed. It definitely was a lovely house. It was too dark to see the exact color of it. Pale yellow or light beige, perhaps. A red-painted door. White shutters.
“They want grandchildren.” Colt finally faced me, and he was wearing a tired little smile. “My sister better cough up a few, ’cause they ain’t comin’ from me.”
I chuckled quietly.
I’d never really thought of having children of my own, though I did like them. My cousin and his wife were actually expecting their first, so that was something to look forward to. It would also satisfy my parents, as my cousin was closer to my mom and dad than his own folks, who lived in Tucson.
Refocusing on Colt, I covered his hand with my own and brushed my thumb over his knuckles. “Don’t get hurt over there.”
Merely saying that put a rock in my stomach.
“That’s the goal. Come here.”
We met in the middle, and my heart jumped as we fell into a slow, deep kiss. His fingers disappeared in the short hairs at the back of my head, and I stroked his jaw.
“You have my email and my phone number,” he murmured against my lips. “Use them.”
“Ditto.” I kissed him once more, a hard, hungry kiss that stole his breath.
Our time was up, and it was more difficult than I’d thought it would be. Colt broke away first, and he didn’t linger. He reached back to grab his bag, then opened the door.
“I’ll come back for my clothes, Lucas West.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek faster than I could register, and I had no way of pulling him back. He was already out of the car, disappearing from my life as fast as he’d entered it. He tapped his hand on the roof of the car and peered in one last time. “And that ass.”
I forced a grin.
He probably saw it was bullshit. He cursed under his breath and shook his head. “Thank you for the ride. I’ll see you, yeah?”
“Yeah.” I nodded once for emphasis. Evidently, I’d lost the ability to form proper sentences. “Be safe, Colt.”
He returned my nod, and that was it. He closed the door and walked toward his parents’ white picket fence.