Blue Colla Make Ya Holla

by Laramie Briscoe

She pulls back and searches my eyes, trying to read me. “Are we? Friends?”

  I nod slowly and let my guard down a little. “We’ll always be friends, Marlie. As pissed as I am at you, I’ll always be your friend.”

  “Well, that’s a start.”

  “I better go get my camp gear and head home. You’ll be okay here?”

  “Yes, I just have to make payment arrangements. Thank you again. Can I call you and let you know how he’s doing?”

  “You better; we bonded under that dumpster. I better go take a shower too. I have no idea what the fuck I was lying in under there.”

  She crinkles her nose at me. “You did an amazing thing. You saved his life.”

  “I want to see him when he’s better.”

  She grins at me. “Deal.”

  I head for the door but turn at the last minute. “Hey…I’m gonna go riding up the mountains tomorrow. You want to come?” It’s a last minute decision that I better not regret.

  Her eyes light up. “I’d love to, but my bike isn’t ready.”

  “I meant with me. On the back.”

  “Oh.” A smile spreads slowly across her face. “That sounds great.”

  “I’ll come around ten?”

  “That’s perfect.” For a moment she’s looking at me just like she used to, like I’m the most interesting person in the entire world and nothing and no one else matters. I’ve been with lots of women, and they all look at me like I’m a piece of meat. Not one of them has ever looked at me like Marlie does. I forgot how good it makes me feel.

  Chapter Seven

  Marlie

  ‡

  I was so wired last night from the little dog and Twist asking to see me today that I barely got any sleep. I take a long, hot shower to try to wake myself up then dress in jeans, black motorcycle boots, a purple T-shirt, and my old black leather jacket. Once upon a time, this jacket belonged to Twist, but he gave it to me, and I’ve worn it ever since. It’s old and soft and smells like a thousand memories. At the last minute, I slip on the ring he gave me, which still fits perfectly.

  At exactly ten, I hear Twist’s bike roar into the driveway. I peek out the window to see if he’s wearing a helmet, and he’s not. New Hampshire doesn’t require a helmet. I contemplate for a moment and decide not to wear one either. I know Twist is a safe rider, and the wind will feel good.

  “Holy shit is that my jacket?” he asks when he sees me.

  “Yup!”

  “Fuck, that’s like fifteen years old! And it still fits you.” He laughs and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t be able to get one arm in that thing now.”

  “That’s not a bad thing,” I say, eyeing his muscular arms. He looks incredibly hot wearing dark sunglasses, faded jeans, and a new black leather jacket.

  “Duly noted,” he says with a grin. “How’s the dog?”

  I tie my long hair back with a hair tie. “I called the vet earlier, and she said he’s doing great. I can pick him up Tuesday.”

  “Cool. Get on.”

  If you think it’s not sensual to be on the back of a motorcycle with your legs wrapped around a hot guy, think again. It is. I put my hands on his sides and hold onto his belt, not ready to wrap my arms completely around him. That just feels too intimate right now.

  His bike is jet black, with a slight chopper rake in the front and an amazing paint job of metallic flake over a skull design. I can’t wait to see what he does with my bike. His engine is loud, but my ears quickly adjust to it. As they say, loud bikes save lives because cars can actually hear them.

  He takes us way up into the White Mountains, and at about two hours in, he stops at a beautiful, secluded lookout point. I try to untangle my hair a little while he pulls a water bottle out of his saddlebag and takes a long drink. He offers it to me, and I take a few sips.

  “Let’s go sit,” he says, leading us to a big rock at the edge of the mountain. We are really high up, and the view is absolutely breathtaking from here. We sit on the rock in silence for a few minutes before he starts to talk.

  “I want to hate you, Marlie, but I can’t.”

  “Okay…” I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about that, but relief comes over me knowing he doesn’t hate me. I couldn’t live with him hating me.

  “I don’t understand why you just fucking forgot me. I thought we could have gotten through that, ya know? A year isn’t that long. I mean it sucked, but didn’t you think what we had was strong enough to get through it? Or was I just stupid to think that?”

  I touch his hand, and he doesn’t pull away. “No, Twist, not at all. I loved you with all my heart.”

  “Then why did you just abandon me? Do you have any idea how that felt, being in fucking prison and not having you to be there for me? My best friend and my girlfriend? If you had written to me and if I could have written to you, it would have made that time so much fucking easier for me.”

  “I know, and I’m so sorry. If I could go back and change it, I would. I really would, Twist. But I was only fifteen, and I made a lot of bad decisions. I was scared.”

  He looks at me harshly with so much pain in his eyes I want to crumble. “My name was the first word you ever said, or tried to say,” he grins. “How many couples can say that? We had something special. I thought we would be together forever. I believed in that.”

  “I did too.” I take a deep breath. “I still do.”

  He stares out at the mountains. “My fucking life has been in limbo. I lost a fucking year and came out even more lost. You were my compass, Marlie. Without you, I’m just wandering around aimlessly, and I hate you for that. I don’t want you to have that much fucking power over me, but you do. I want to forget you like you forgot me.”

  “Twist, I never forgot you. You have to believe that. I’ve thought about you every single day. I can’t even feel anything for another man—”

  “I don’t want to hear about you with other men, Marlie. That’s something else I thought was sacred, just for me. To be with a woman who was only ever with me. You destroyed that too.”

  “You’ve been with other women,” I say back, hurt that he would throw that in my face.

  “Only because you left.”

  “I’m sorry, you just don’t understand all of it.”

  He grabs my arm. “Then make me understand, Marlie. Why the fuck did you just forget me and leave me there alone?”

  A deep, shuddering breath escapes me, and I close my eyes. “My father said horrible things to me. He called me a whore and a slut. He threw me in the car with just a few of my things and drove me across the country to my aunt’s house without saying one word to me the entire drive. He refused to let my mother come. When we got to my aunt’s, he told me I was a huge disappointment, and he couldn’t bear to look at the slut his daughter turned into. No one has ever talked to me like that before, Twist. He was insane with rage over us having sex. It, like, snapped him mentally or something. I don’t know why. I was scared out of my mind. I took a bunch of sleeping pills I found in my aunt’s bathroom…” I pause and take a big gulp of air. “I just wanted to go to sleep and make all the pain go away. I know it was stupid, but I was so young and scared, Twist. I was in a coma for two weeks and then in a mental health facility for almost eight months. At first I had some memory loss, but it came back with therapy. By the time I was released and back at my aunt’s house, I didn’t know how to even begin to tell you what happened. My aunt homeschooled me; I couldn’t deal with going back to any kind of school and being around kids my age that were happy. I’m so sorry.” His mouth hangs open further and further as I talk.

  “Fucking shit, Marlie. Are you serious?” His voice is raspy and strained with emotion.

  “Yes. I’m so sorry…”

  He grabs me so hard I almost get whiplash as he pulls me into him.

  “Stop saying you’re sorry,” he whispers, holding me tight. “I can’t fucking believe that happened to you. If your father had just left us alone, none of this would h
ave happened. I want to fucking kill him.”

  “Twist, he’s not worth it. I’ve barely spoken to him since. I was just young, way too emotional, and probably too attached to you at too young of an age. At least that’s what the psychiatrist said. I’m okay now.”

  “You should have told me, Marlie. I would have been there for you as best I could and come to you as soon as I got out. I hate that you went through all that alone; it kills me inside.” He strokes my hair, soothing me.

  “Twist, it’s over. I just want to forget it. It was a long time ago.”

  He leans his forehead against mine. “We lost so much time,” he whispers.

  “I know, and I hate that so much. I never, ever stopped loving you. You have to believe that.”

  He leans in and kisses me, softly at first, then deeper and stronger as we lean into each other. Every fiber of my being seems to sigh. He feels so good, so right. He feels like home.

  He pulls away for a moment and stares into my eyes, his hands on my neck. “I have never, ever stopped loving you either, baby. Not for one fucking minute.” His lips come down on mine again, possessively, his tongue tangling with mine. He pulls me onto his lap, his hand going around my waist as my arms go around his neck. Every touch feels so natural with him, as if the time spent apart has faded.

  After a few minutes he reluctantly pulls away. “We should head back,” he says. “Otherwise I’m not going to be able to stop.”

  On the ride home, I wrap my arms tight around his waist, not wanting to let him go. I’m not sure exactly what’s happening between us, but it feels good to have that huge, horrible weight off my shoulders. Just the thought of starting over with him makes me breathless, because to me, that would be a dream come true.

  *

  “Do you want to come inside and have dinner with me?” I ask nervously when we get back to my house.

  He cringes. “Oh fuck. I forgot to stop for dinner. My head is tweaked, babe.”

  Grabbing his hand, I tug him towards the stairway to my apartment. “It’s okay, I’ll give you a pass for today for your bad dating skills, if you give me a pass for only having sandwiches for dinner.”

  “I want you to make me one of your amazing grilled cheese sandwiches.”

  “Oh my God, you remember those?” When we were kids I used to make us grilled cheese almost every single day, and he loved them.

  “Are you kidding? How could I forget my favorite meal?”

  I unlock the door and kiss his cheek. “You’re in luck then, because I have bread and cheese.”

  “Make yourself at home,” I tell him, heading for the bathroom to freshen up. When I come out, he’s sitting on the couch with his boots off.

  “This is a really nice place,” he calls after me as I head into the kitchen area.

  “I love it. My last apartment was so tiny and kinda dreary. This place is just bright and happy. Where do you live now?” I inquire, pulling everything I need out of the refrigerator. He joins me in the kitchen and leans against the counter while I start making our sandwiches.

  “I bought a house on the edge of town; remember the old Thompson farm?”

  “Wow, you live there?”

  “I’m renovating the entire place.”

  I smile over at him. “Then I’m sure it will be beautiful when you’re done.”

  He pulls me into his arms and kisses me before letting me go back to the stove to flip the sandwiches.

  “I have to tell you, when you showed up the other day, you blew me away. You’ve always been pretty, but damn, you are a beautiful woman now.”

  I feel my cheeks flush. “Thank you. You look amazing yourself. I was hoping you would be bald and fat, actually.”

  He cracks up. “What? Why would you wish that on me?”

  “It was easier to picture you that way than to think of you being all hot and sexy and with another woman.”

  Handing him his plate and sandwich, I sit at the table and he follows me. “I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time,” he tells me. “How about you?”

  I shrug. “It’s been a while and nothing serious. I just never met someone I really clicked with.”

  “This sandwich is exactly as I remember it. I could eat twenty.”

  I laugh and playfully kick him under the table. “It’s bread and cheese! It’s nothing special.”

  “It’s special because you made it. That’s always been the best part.”

  Sexy and charming. What else could a girl want?

  I feel awkward once we’re done eating. Should I ask him to stay, or is it too soon? If I let him leave, does that make me seem uninterested? Ugh, I hate being a grown up.

  “What are you thinking about, Marlie?” he asks, sensing my hesitations

  “Nothing…”

  “Tell me to leave,” his voice is low and sensual, not wanting to leave at all.

  “No,” I say softly, shaking my head.

  “Then ask me to stay.”

  “Stay.”

  Before I can blink, he’s up off his chair and pulling me into his arms for a long kiss. He picks me up and starts to carry me out of the kitchen.

  “Where’s your bedroom?” he asks between kisses.

  “Who cares? Pick any semi-flat surface,” I answer, only half kidding.

  He laughs against my lips. “Keep making me laugh and I’m going to drop you.”

  “Down the hall to the left,” I tell him, kissing his neck.

  When we get to my room, he lays me on the bed and falls on top of me. I tug his shirt up, because if I can’t touch him, I am going to lose my mind. Being so close to him on the bike for hours, feeling the muscles beneath his clothes, drove me mad all day long.

  “Please take your shirt off,” I whisper. “I’m dying to touch you.” He leans up and pulls his shirt off, grinning down at me with that sexy, devilish smirk of his.

  “You can touch me as much as you want, and you can bet your sweet ass I’m going to be touching you.” His voice is husky with desire.

  Reaching up, I pull him back down to kiss me, running my hands all over his back. He feels incredible, all rock-hard muscle and smooth skin. I wish I had those pervy ceiling mirrors just so I could see his inked body moving on top of me.

  He slowly pulls my shirt off and unhooks my bra, his hand gently cupping and squeezing my breast as he continues to kiss my lips, softer and slower now.

  “I missed you so much,” he says softly. “Everything is happening so fast; are you okay with this?”

  I love him for thinking about my feelings, confirming that he is still the thoughtful boy I grew up with.

  “I’m fine with this,” I whisper back. “I’ve dreamed about this for years.”

  His head bends down, and I feel his lips on my chest, licking my breasts and teasing my nipples, slowly moving down to lick and tickle my stomach while he unbuttons my jeans and finishes undressing me. He sits back and stares at me for a few moments, gently running his finger down from the middle of my chest, between my breasts, down my stomach, and stopping to gently stroke me between my thighs, making me squirm with desire for him.

  Sitting up, I reach for his jeans, unbuttoning them quickly and tugging them down. His cock is huge and hard, pressing against his stomach. When we were young, I never kissed or sucked his dick because I was shy and still working up to that, but I make up for that now by dragging my tongue from the base of his shaft all the way up to his glistening head, my hand gently squeezing his balls. He leans his head back and lets out a soft groan, fisting my hair in his hand and coaxing me to keep going. Licking the crown, I slowly take his length into my mouth, sucking gently inch by inch, then slowly sliding my mouth back up to start all over again. I feel him swell and harden more as I suck him, until he pushes me back on the bed.

  “We’ll resume that another time,” he growls. “Are you still on the pill?”

  “Yes.” Not sure why, as I haven’t had a need for it in a long time, but yay for being on it now.


  “Thank fuck,” he says. “I want to feel you.” He crawls between my legs and tongues my folds, licking and sucking my delicate flesh while he slides one then two fingers inside me. I moan and clench my thighs around him. As he licks me, my body turns to jelly for him, and I have to fight to keep from having an orgasm too soon.

  “Twist…” I gasp, sitting up and reaching for him. Grabbing his shoulders, I pull him up to my lips and wrap my leg around his waist as I feel him slowly slide into me. I arch my back with the sheer ecstasy of finally feeling him inside of me again, filling and stretching me.

  He pulls my leg up higher and drives harder and deeper into me, his eyes locked on mine as he thrusts into me with a pent-up possessive force we both have quelled for way too long. He’s hitting my G-spot just right, making it impossible for me to stave off my orgasm.

  He groans against my lips as I buck against him, and I can feel him surge inside of me. My hands grip his muscled ass, pulling him deeper inside me as I meet his last thrusts.

  “I still love you,” he admits when his breathing has calmed down.

  My soul stills as I stare up into his dark eyes. “I still love you, too.”

  Rolling onto his side, he pulls me up against him. “Do you think we can start over? I know this is fucking crazy, but this isn’t my dick talking. I still want all the things we talked about when we were young. I want you to have my kids and be on the back of my fucking bike and spend every day with me.”

  “Whoa, kids?” I tease.

  “Maybe not soon, but yeah, Marlie. I want to have some kids.”

  Laying my head over his heart, I look up at his face. “I want those things too. It’s just been a long time since I let myself believe they could happen. You were the only one I could ever imagine a life like that with, and I thought that possibility was gone forever. I’m a little bit in shock, I think.”

  He pushes my long hair away from my face. “I’m in shock, too. You’re beautiful, and you have my heart just like you always have,” he says. “We’ll take it one day at a time, baby.”

  Twist spends the night, and we stay up late talking, hands clasped, catching up on the ten years we missed. He makes love to me again before he leaves for work in the morning, and apprehension fills me as I watch him ride off down the road, worrying that once he’s had some time to think, he’ll change his mind and not want me after all. Not want us.