by Claire Adams
Our mission complete, we got into our truck and drove away. We had given all the evidence to the authorities, and I had assured Cheyenne’s safety by putting the man who had dared put his hands on her in jail, likely for the rest of his life. I couldn’t wait to tell Cheyenne everything that had happened and looked forward to being there when she collapsed in relief.
She deserved it.
We all deserved it, just like Michael said.
Chapter 33
Cheyenne
I woke up Thanksgiving morning and felt fantastic. Bill was in jail and about to be picked up by the FBI, Rick had confessed and was awaiting sentencing, charged with multiple counts of assault and vandalism, as well as animal abuse, and for the first time in weeks, I felt safe. Tiffany came over, the three of us cooked Thanksgiving dinner together, and when we all sat down to eat, we stuffed our stomachs full. Cole’s turkey was absolutely delicious, with citrus and spices lending flavor to a turkey that was juicy and cooked to perfection. Tiffany’s sweet potato casserole had extra candied pecans, just the way I loved it. I was in charge of the apple cider roasted vegetables and the cornbread stuffing, and by the time we were done eating, we all were ready for naps.
We dragged ourselves to the couches and turned on the infamous football games, and the three of us soon passed out on the couch and slept off our full stomachs.
When we all woke up three hours later, it was to Michael knocking on the door. He came in and gave us all a hug, and invited Tiffany to come over and have dessert with his family. Tiffany was excited about having two desserts in one day, which only reinforced the appearance of cluelessness she exhibited every time Michael flirted with her.
“I’m gonna have to just yell it at her, aren’t I?” I asked Colt.
“She won’t figure it out until she realizes his tongue is down her throat,” Colt said.
“So, since we all cooked, who’s doing the dishes?”
“Unfortunately, that would be us,” Colt said.
We rolled ourselves off the couch and started for the kitchen. I began carrying and stacking dishes as Colt ran a sink of hot, soapy water. As I scraped the dishes over the trashcan, I handed them to him for a dip and scrub in the water before they went into the dishwater. Nearly to the end of the pile, he pulled a plate out too fast and covered me in dirty water.
“Hey! Be careful! That’s water’s disgusting,” I said.
“Oh, really?” he asked. “Well, what about this water?”
He turned on the faucet and flicked a little my way as I put my hands up to stop the assault. We still had pots and pans to clean, but Colt couldn’t man up long enough to get it done.
“Colt, stop it! We gotta clean!” I said.
“But you’re such a dirty girl, right?” he asked.
“Not on your life,” I said, giggling.
He kept flicking water at me, and soon I’d had enough. I reached over and grabbed the spray nozzle from the back of the sink, and he held his hands up, eying me warily.
“Whoa now. That’s a big hose you got there, little lady. You know how much water that thing spews?” he asked.
“Depends on how you rub it,” I said.
“And you say you’re not a naughty girl.”
I turned the hose on him and soaked the entire front of his body. Cole started scooping water from the trickling faucet and threw it at me by the handfuls, and soon we were slipping and sliding around on the kitchen floor. His shirt was sticking to his chest, and my hair was matted to my face, and by the time Colt was able to get to the sink to shut it off, we had soaked the entire kitchen floor.
“I can’t move without slipping,” I said through my laughter.
“Whose fault is that?” he asked.
“Hey, you’re the one who—whoa!”
I slid forward and toppled into Colt, who caught me in his arms before landing back first into the fridge. I couldn’t get my balance with the socks I was wearing, and when I grabbed onto Colt’s shirt, I heard it rip right out from under my hands. His shirt fell to the floor in tatters just as my ass hit the ground. When I looked up, I was met with Colt’s darkened stare, right along with his wet, glistening chest.
For the first time since this thing had happened between us, I wanted him for completely selfish purposes. He was no longer a way to relieve stress or a way to distract my mind from the outside world. He was now a man I wanted to feel against me every second of every day. I wanted his presence, not because he made me feel safe from threats, but because he was a joy to be around. Simply put, he made me happy.
But when he slowly sank to my body that was pressed into the cold, wet floor of the kitchen, his lips hovered against mine and ignited a passion I was only just beginning to feel.
“Kiss me,” I whispered.
His lips came down on mine, and my hand slowly slipped into his hair. His kiss was deep, and his tongue slowly slid between my lips. I parted my legs for him, and he slipped perfectly between my thighs, his jeans heavy against my naked legs while his hand slipped down and cupped my still-clothed breast.
My head tilted off to the side, begging for more of him while his hand was planted into the floor, when all at once I felt his fingertips trail up my stomach. My soaking wet dress was providing no barrier against his skin, and when it slipped over my head, he brought his lips down to my neck.
His kisses were soft, like butterflies fluttering against my skin, and the heat my body cast out into the universe was nothing compared to the heat his lips were giving me with every connection they made. He kissed down the valley of my breasts and pressed his face deep into my bosom as my hips rose to meet his in a desperate need to feel him where I wanted him the most.
My stomach jumped with every flick of his tongue against my skin, and my hands twisted into the wet strands of hair on his head. He hooked his fingers into my panties and slid them down my legs, and when he dropped back down onto me, I felt his dick slap my leg. He was rock hard and ready for me while his tip dripped against my skin, and a sense of pride surged within me to know I could provoke such a response in him, just as he did in me.
“Take me, Colt,” I whispered.
“Like I could stop if I wanted to,” he smiled.
He wrapped his hand around his cock and guided it into me, then grabbing my leg, tossed it around his back. Slowly—like a tortoise beginning a race—he began to roll his hips into mine. His thick dick slowly filled my pussy, caressing over every inch and stroking that beautiful spot behind my clit. Every time he slid over that space my body lurched for him.
“That feel good?” he asked.
“Oh, God, it always feels good. Always.”
He pressed light kisses to my neck while contented sighs left my lips, and he coaxed my other leg to wrap around him. Our hips rose and dipped together as we bucked against the wet floor of the kitchen, and soon the dirty dishes and stale smells faded into the background. Our light whispers became breathless pants as he began to pick up his pace, and I could feel his balls lightly tapping against my ass while he coated his dick with my juices.
His muscles raked against my body, and I could feel them flexing and undulating underneath my fingers. I licked and nipped at his shoulder just so I could taste him. His musky scent was mixed with the smells of fall, and the sound of the wind howling against the kitchen windows started to drown out our moans of pleasure.
His hips rolled faster, and my pussy clenched harder. His kisses became stronger and my own thrusts rougher. My fingernails raked down his back, and his balls slapped my ass. When I felt my juices dripping down my skin and coating my thighs, I knew we had lost ourselves in one another. Colt was strong and passionate—every inch a man, every ounce a protector—and his body shielded me from the world while he shook me with pleasure. My legs slid up and down the backs of his own, and soon the sounds of slapping skin filled the kitchen, making my eyes roll into the back of my head just as his hips began to shudder.
“Cum for me,” I begged. “Cum fo
r me, Colt.”
“God, Cheyenne. What have you done to me?”
My pussy throbbed and massaged his cock, milking him for everything he had as I shook against his body. I clung to his back and pulled him down on top of me, and when he snapped his hips against my skin and stilled his motions, I knew he was meeting his very own end. I wrapped my legs tightly around his calves and drew him as close to me as I could get him. I felt him twitching inside me with every pump of his cock, and all I wanted was for him to never leave me.
I wanted to stay like this forever. I wanted to feel this weightless and experience this intensity of pleasure. I wanted to remain weak to the pull of his body and yield this easily to his touch every day for the rest of my life. I never wanted to go back to the woman I was before I had met Colt Smith, and when he finally relaxed his body against mine, I wrapped my arms tightly around his back.
“Just stay here for a second,” I said.
“I had no intention of moving,” Colt said through his panting.
“It’s over, isn’t it?” I whispered.
Colt pulled back his face and looked heavily into my eyes. Tears of relief rose to the surface as the weight of that reality crashed down on my body, and he captured my lips in a sweet, succulent kiss before he confirmed something that had only been a distant dream for weeks.
“Yeah, it’s really over,” he said.
Chapter 34
Cheyenne
The fundraiser was tomorrow, and the frantic preparations could be felt in the air. Tiffany was running around with decorations and commands; Colt was dealing with the restaurant, getting the food ready; and I kept refreshing my bank accounts. My savings had officially been milked dry, fall had given way to winter, and the shiver that slinked down my spine iced over any other hope I had of this ever working. Every cent I’d ever worked for was gone because of Bill’s debacle that had ruined my sanctuary. Suddenly, anger began to heat my bones while people rushed around me.
I knew Colt wanted desperately to help out with expenses, but I knew he really couldn’t. He kept telling me he could donate some feed and supplies from his overflow stash, but I knew there wasn’t much else he could do. Money was just as tight for him because of the issue he suffered at the restaurant, and after already forking over money to turn my water, heat, and power back on, he had nothing left to give.
“Everything’s going be alright after this fundraiser, Cheyenne,” I heard Colt say.
“Yeah, I’m sure it will.”
“You don’t believe me,” he said.
“Don’t be offended, I just have no backup plan should this fundraiser fall through.”
“It’s gonna be fine, I promise. This community supports you and what you do, and with word circulating about Bill, people are enraged at the position he put you in.”
“I just don’t feel like people respect what I do,” I said.
“That’s because you’re so busy criticizing your own worth and staying busy fixing issues around your ranch. You never stop to look around at who is admiring you.”
I turned my chair around and watched people flutter in and out of Colt’s home. Tiffany was bringing in streamers and decorative glasses, while Michael was talking to florists and a D.J. As smells from the kitchen began wafting through the house while the chilly winter air floated in from the open door at the front of the house, I saw for the first time the effort people were putting into this because of me.
People that cared and loved me were working hard to put on a fundraiser in order to stabilize the financial situation of the sanctuary, and myself for that matter, and the reality of it all became a bit overwhelming.
I’d run from a massive city after a destructive relationship because I realized no one actually cared. When all was said and done after Dexter and I had parted ways, everyone followed the jovial man with the bright smile, leaving behind the devastated woman who had been drained of all she had to give. Pictures online of intimate moments were shared among circles of friends I didn’t recognize, and then I was cast out as the nasty one when I confronted Dexter and asked him to take them down.
“This fundraiser is going to go much better than you expect, I promise,” Colt said.
“I guess. I don’t know, Colt.” I trailed off, unsure of what to think or feel.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
I looked up into his eyes, and suddenly my soul began to warm once again. The chill winter air that had cascaded up my legs and shaken me in my boots suddenly began to dissipate, and in its place was a warmth I could only gather from the eyes of Colt Smith. The hustling and bustling of his home faded to the background while I swam in the depths of his eyes, and for a second, my heart stilled its anxious movements. My blood pressure settled, my muscles began to relax, and when Colt began massaging my shoulders, I instantly melted into his touch.
This man was dangerous for me, but his danger was everything I needed, with none of the extra chaos and pain.
“Take a deep breath and relax,” he whispered into my ear. “Just close your eyes and take a moment.”
It had been a long few weeks. I had been dragged through the mud, threatened within an inch of my life, seen a horse in my care murdered, endured repeated harassment and threats, rebuilt my sanctuary from its very ashes, and allowed a strong, determined man to slowly chip away at the walls I had built around my heart to keep strangers out who might want to do me harm.
Gradually, I felt like a phoenix, rising from the ashes of a life someone tried to destroy, but there was one last puzzle piece that had to fit into place in order for my transformation to be complete.
And it was completely out of my hands.
“Hey, Colt!” someone yelled out. “Wanna come try this?”
“That would be the chef,” he said.
“Go taste some food. I’ll be here when you get back.”
He released his grip on my shoulders, and I turned myself back to the computer. I refreshed the screen, hoping that between the time the screen went blank and the time it reloaded that my bank account would suddenly find a surplus of funds it had not registered before.
But when that zero popped back up onto the screen, I felt my blood pressure slowly begin to rise once more.
“Enough with this,” Tiffany said. She hobbled over and closed the laptop with a thud, and I whipped my gaze over to her in an attempt to figure out what was going on.
“I’m all done with what I need to do for now, so you and I are going for some lunch,” she said.
“I gotta stay here and feed the horses, Tif,” I said. “I can’t just go to lunch.”
“Michael’s already out there doing it,” she said. “Now come on.”
“Wait. Michael’s feeding the horses?” I asked.
“He offered to do it when I mentioned that you hadn’t eaten yet today.”
“Yes, I did. I ate breakfast.”
“Three cups of coffee and the smell of horse feed doesn’t count as breakfast,” she said, as she rolled her eyes.
“It has for a few years of my life now,” I said.
“Well, it doesn’t now, so come on.”
“Did he say why he was feeding the horses?” I asked.
“He said he would so I could take you out.”
“You know that man’s got it bad for you, right?” I asked.
“No, he doesn’t,” she said with a little smile. “He’s become a good friend through all of this. You know he helped Colt muscle down Bill at his house, don’t you? I like a tough man with a backbone of steel.”
“Then it’s a good thing Michael likes your spunky ass,” I said.
“He does not,” she said.
“God, are you really that thick? He’s been flirting with you relentlessly. Colt even sees it, and you know you slow up on uptake he can be sometimes!”
“Oh, Colt would egg anything on just to get back at me for how I rode him about you,” she said.
“Well, then it’s about time you got a taste of you
r own medicine. If you are taking me to lunch, then Michael’s the topic every time I can slip it in.”
“Well, you should be better at that now that you’ve got my brother,” she said with a big grin.
“Tif!”
“Just sayin’! Y’all been thinking I didn’t know all this time, but I’m not stupid.”
The winter chill kicked up a dangerously cool breeze, and I pulled my coat tighter around my body. The clouds in the sky turned a steely gray, threatening snow even as Michael gathered the horses into the barn.
“You think they’re gonna need an extra layer of hay?” I asked.
“Whatever they need, Michael’s got it,” Tif said.
“He’s got what you need, too,” I said.
“And what is that?” she asked.
“A good dicking and a witty personality.”
“Jesus, Cheyenne!” she exclaimed, giggling.
“Now you know how I felt every time you pushed your brother onto me,” I said.
“And look at where it got you. You’re welcome.”
I looked over at her, and all she did was wink and smile. Michael waved us off while we watched him gather the last horse into the barn, and I watched a goofy grin track its way across Tiffany’s face before she finally cranked up her car. I knew what she was feeling, and I recognized that look in her eye. It was the look I gave Colt when I thought no one was looking. It was the look of a woman who wanted something that was directly in front of her but didn’t have the courage to let herself be vulnerable enough to take it.
“I’ll help you,” I said aloud.
“Huh?” Tiffany asked.
“With Michael. I’ll help you like you helped me with your brother.”
“So, you do admit it!”
“You’re insane.”
“I got you to admit it. I got you to admit it. Now I can tease Colt relentlessly over it.”
“I’m sure you will,” I said, smiling.
We drove into town, and Tif was oddly silent. I knew what was on her mind, and I let it marinate in her brain for a second before I brought up the one question that had been rolling around in my head since I’d first woke up this morning.
