Chapter 14
Colt
I’m not a creep, Colt told himself as he watched Daniel’s strawberry pink toenails swing through the air. He’d seen her in the shower about a dozen times; watching her write in a notebook was nothing. Or so he kept telling himself. She just looked so…wholesome sitting there in sweatpants at the kitchen counter, her hair in a big messy pile on her head. He wanted to walk into the kitchen, throw an arm around her shoulders and say, “Hey, watcha doing?” Instead he was staring at her through an HD camera feed like some hairy-palmed pervert.
He glanced at the intercom. He could just talk to her. John was out surfing and the kid was sound asleep. It had been four days since he and Daniel had coffee together. He’d well and truly proved to an angry and suspicious John that he wasn’t going to fuck up their payday by chatting to her. Besides, he thought, his hand hovering over the intercom button, what John didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
He pressed his palm against the dash. “Hey, Daniel.”
She looked up, and her broad smile did something funny to Colt’s insides. “Hey. What brings your disembodied voice to my neck of the woods, Tarzan?”
Colt grinned. She was probably calling him a meathead but he liked the nickname. “You’re not doing anything interesting.”
“Should I try to escape? Liven things up?”
“No thanks. You have no idea how much paperwork we had to do after you busted out last time.”
She laughed. “It’s cool, I can’t work out how to peel off your fingerprints and use them on the door anyway.”
“So what else is new?” Colt said, rotating in his chair so he could put his feet up while still pressing down the intercom.
“I got my period.” Daniel thrust a fist into the air.
Colt already knew she did but he wasn’t going to say so. “Nice.”
She smirked. “You already knew, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, uh, I saw you taking Midol and carrying around that heat pack…”
She beamed up at him. “You really do have sisters.”
“I really do, although what’s the…” Colt shut his mouth when he realized what he was about to ask.
“What?” Daniel asked.
“I shouldn’t ask, it’s too creepy.”
“Hate to disappoint you but this entire situation…” Daniel waved her arm around the house. “Is already pretty creepy.”
“True. Well, uh, I was gonna ask what that thing you keep washing out in the sink is.”
Daniel’s expression didn’t even change. “It’s a mooncup. Like a little plastic cup thing you insert inside yourself like a tampon. It catches all the blood.”
“Right.” Colt imagined a plastic water glass jammed inside her. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
“No, it’s really flexible.”
“Huh.”
Daniel laughed. “You know most guys, even super-leftie Treebeard guys are like ‘eww lady vagina bleeding, I don’t wanna talk about it. Make it stop.’”
Colt gave a shrug she couldn’t see. “I was in the army. Be kinda dumb if I couldn’t handle blood.”
“Ah, but periods aren’t manly bullet-wound blood, they’re vagina blood.”
“Blood is blood. That’s all there is to it.”
“What an oddly lovely sentiment.” Daniel grinned up at him and his heart did the stupid stuttering thing again. He snagged John’s water bottle from his desk and took a long swallow hoping to wash it away. He’d had a lot of internal conversations about why he wasn’t allowed to have a crush on Daniel. There were many good reasons; her membership in an anarchist gang, the mounting evidence John and Seb felt something for her too, the fact that she’d drilled Britney Spears’ entire back catalog into his long-term memory bank but the major one, the one that made his guts ache was their age difference. Gone were the days he could assume a woman in her twenties would be willing to overlook his practically middle-aged ass. As Daniel had said herself, she was popular, she could have anyone she wanted and it made sense that even if their circumstances weren’t so fucked up, she wouldn’t want him. The thought made his insides twist like spaghetti strands around a fork.
“Tarzan?”
Colt cleared his throat, embarrassed that he’d left such a long lapse in conversation. “Sorry, still here. So what are you doing anyway? Working on your memoir?”
Daniel laughed. “The world is so not ready for my memoir. I’m writing a bucket list I’m going to try and work on some minor life goals while I’m stuck in here, such as…” She cleared her throat. “Listen to all the Harry Potter books.”
Colt paused in the middle of drinking more of John’s Marlborough tasting water. “Listen?”
“Yeah, there are these audio versions read by Stephen Fry. I’ve meant to get onto them for years but I’ve been putting it off.”
“Scared of Voldemort?” Colt teased.
Daniel raised her eyebrows. “You’re going to feel like such a dick when I tell you this…”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah because my dad used to read the books to me when I was a kid. He’d do all the voices. We were on the third one when he died.”
“Oh.” Colt tapped his fist against his forehead. “You’re right, I do feel like a dick.”
Daniel’s eyes, which had been a little misty, snapped back into focus. “Don’t stress, it was a long time ago. Next thing on the list—cook without giving anyone gastrointestinal poisoning. I’m going to make Shlishkes.”
“So you are Jewish, huh?” Colt had suspected but hadn’t wanted to assume. As a person of ambiguous ancestry he knew how fucking annoying it was to be diced up and analyzed on your most ethnic appearing features.
“Not practicing,” Daniel said. “My parents were atheists. We’re culturally Jewish. Or I am anyway.”
Her eyes went a little misty again and Colt cursed himself for being such a tone-deaf asshole. “What else is on your list?”
“Oh, er…” Daniel shook her head, like she was getting water out of her ears. “Grow out my body hair. You know I have no idea what my bush looks like?”
The drastic gear change from dead parents to pubic hair hit made Colt snort with laughter so hard he sprayed water all over one of the monitors.
“Shit,” he said, hastily wiping it down with a Kleenex. Daniel was so blunt about her period, sex, going to the bathroom and cursing she reminded him of a grunt who’d been deployed so long he’d forgotten those things were meant to be taboo. He couldn’t say how much he liked it.
“Where’d you go?” Daniel called. “Wait, are pubes where you draw the line?”
Colt jammed his finger on intercom button. “No. That made me laugh so hard I did a spit-take all over the monitor.”
“That’s good. Glad you weren’t offended by me talking about my cunt.”
Colt grinned as he threw the balled-up Kleenex in the trash. He wondered how Daniel’s pussy would look covered in glossy brown curls. He didn’t mind when girls had hair, being old enough to remember when most of them did. He decided it would be sexy; womanly and exotic, like her big tits and strong golden thighs. Besides, she already had a landing strip. He imagined running his tongue down it all the time.
“…and I might also paint a watercolor of the beach, maybe a self-portrait if I can be arsed.”
Shit. Colt sat up straight; remembering that he was supposed to be listening. Talking over the intercom was hazardous that way, you didn’t have the eye contact to remember to stay focused.
“A self-portrait?” he repeated, hoping she’d take that as a sign he’d been paying attention. “Hang on, you can paint as well?”
Daniel shrugged with what appeared to be genuine indifference. “I’m all right. No Da Vinci but you know…” She shrugged again, flipped a few pages in her notebook and held up a sketch of what was unmistakably a view of the ocean from her bedroom window. Colt had zero opinions about art but he knew Daniel had undersold her talent. The picture was only drawn in pen yet somehow managed to be beautiful and sad.
“It’s uh, really good.”
“I wish I could hear the ocean,” Daniel admitted. “Everything’s soundproofed in here and I miss it. I grew up by the beach.”
Colt said nothing, just sat and stared at the girl who couldn’t see him, wondering what else she was hiding. She spoke four languages that he knew of, her rap sheet confirmed she was some kind of tech wizard and she was musical. Three days ago she’d sat at the grand piano and played Sam Smith songs with lazy practiced strokes. She’d sung too, a clear melodious soprano that made goosebumps rise on the back of Colt’s neck. He’d come to the conclusion she was just operating on a higher level than ordinary people. Like a hot lady Da Vinci.
He thought about what she’d told him about being a late bloomer, a weirdo and a nerd. He wondered how many people had resented her; a bright beautiful girl who could accomplish more things in an afternoon that most people couldn’t match in a lifetime.
She’d probably had more than her share of enemies, people smiling with their lips while their eyes said ‘fuck you. It should have been me.’
And she’s an orphan, he thought his heart swelling against his rib cage. No family to protect her. No parents to give her a home. Maybe he could think of her like another kid sister. That way he could admire and encourage her without the complications of romance. He bounced the idea around his brain and was instantly nauseous. For better or worse he wanted to screw Daniel Schwartz sideways. No way in hell was he lumping her in with his sisters. Just the thought of them having sex made his stomach churn. He’d have to find another box to put his fucked up feelings in.
“Anyway,” Daniel said turning her head away from the window behind her. “Back to my list.”
“Sure,” Colt said, wishing he could be sitting next to her maybe holding her hand maybe wrapping both arms tightly around her torso, kissing her neck.
“…Although this one is kind of personal…”
Fuck, he was still meant to be listening. He thumped the intercom button “Go on.”
She blinked up at the camera. “I want to have an orgasm during sex.”
“What?” Colt stared at her image, completely horrified. “You’ve never had an orgasm from sex?”
She didn’t respond and he realized he’d taken his thumb off the intercom, he pounded the button again. “You’ve never had an orgasm from sex?”
Daniel smiled at his outrage. “I should have said I want to have an orgasm during vaginal penetration. I can come if I touch my clit the same time a guy’s inside me but I might be able to do it from just sex.”
Her voice was slow, thoughtful like they were discussing putting together an engine and not the most ridiculous thing Colt had ever heard.
“A man’s never taken the time to get you off during sex?”
“Well,” she said. “It always takes too long, so I always have to you know…” she crooked the tip of her finger in the air “…before the train arrives at its final destination.”
Colt felt an odd swirl of conflicting emotions. Jealousy for the idiots she’d slept with. Scorn for the idiots she’d slept with. A deep, bone-deep longing to fuck her to an unaided orgasm all over his cock. “Why don’t you tell these morons to slow the fuck down?”
“Because I’ve never really had a regular sex thing with anyone,” Daniel said, as though this was self-explanatory.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It’s different when it’s flings and one night stands.”
“No it isn’t! You get the woman off every time or you’re a selfish prick.”
Daniel pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Okay, promise you won’t get butt-hurt when I tell you this?”
Colt crossed his fingers under the desk. “Okay…”
“It’s different for guys, you could pump your dicks into a dirt hole and still blow a load, but with girls it’s different. Especially with someone new. You gotta be turned on, you need to be able to relax, and it’s hard to give a man directions, especially when you don’t know each other that well. There’s always the risk that they’ll get angry with you.”
Colt felt his jaw tighten. “Men have gotten angry with you?”
“Not like that. Although that is always a possibility,” she added as an afterthought. “The times I’ve told guys I haven’t come they either go into a frenzy of well-intentioned but very abrasive jackhammering while asking ‘Has it happened? Has it happened?’ And you fake it just so they’ll shut up. Or they sulk and tell you their exes all came whenever they fucked them and your pussy is broken.”
She grinned as though this was funny instead of wildly depressing. “It’s easier just to do it yourself.”
“That’s bullshit,” Colt said. “I’d hate it if a girl came home with me and didn’t have a good time.”
“Oh, I always have a good time,” Daniel said brightly. “I know my body well enough to get there pretty much every time. Plus, I never screw anyone who doesn’t eat pussy.”
A burst of jealousy sprayed across Colt’s brain, hot and rapid as machine gun fire. “Right.”
“Yeah don’t worry about me, Tarzan, I’ve got my one-night stand jam down. The bucket list is just about, p-in-v sex.”
“Sure.” Colt rubbed a hand over his face. He’d changed his mind about Daniel’s willingness to talk to him about anything. It wasn’t a good thing, not when it was shredding his insides like a lawnmower.
“Colt?” The corners of Daniel’s mouth turned down. “Are you grossed out?”
He shook his head. “No, uh, you’ve just given me a lot to think about.”
“Okay, sorry to keep asking, but I’m not great with emotions and I can’t see you,” she admitted. “You’re really easy to talk to though. I feel loads better now.”
Colt was glad she couldn’t see him. He was grinning like a stupid kid. “Anytime. So how are you planning on learning how to orgasm during sex when you’re in the house all alone?”
Daniel shot a sly smile at the camera. “I don’t know, maybe someone should volunteer as tribute.”
“Might be an idea,” Colt said, his heart starting to hammer hard against his ribs.
She leaning forward so he could see straight down her t-shirt to the full swells of her breasts. “Know a guy?”
For a brief dizzy moment Colt imagined Daniel bouncing up and down on his lap, riding his cock with her eyes rolled back. ‘Colt. Colton. Deeper please, Colton? I need it…
The fantasy, hot and bright as a memory allowed something stupid to pass his lips. “Know him, are him? What’s the difference?”
Daniel’s smirk intensified. “And what are your qualifications, Mr. Stone?”
Colt opened his mouth to say something dumb like ‘why don’t I come down there and show you’ but caught himself just in time. Talking was one thing, dirty talking was something else.
Why? His brain and cock howled in unison. Why can’t I go down there and give us both what we want?
Because of John, he reminded himself, because of Blackstone, because of three hundred thousand dollars, you dickhead.
“Colt?” Daniel asked, her troublemaker smile gone. “Did I cross a line?”
Fuck. Colt sat back in his chair, rolling his neck from side to side, trying to ease the ridiculous tension that was building inside him. She hadn’t but he had. John was right, talking to her, getting closer to her, it was going to cause nothing but trouble in the end.
“No,” he said. “I like talking to you but it’s complicated. With my job and everything.”
Daniel nodded. “I get it. You’re probably getting paid shitloads to do this. You don’t want to fuck that up.”
“The dumb thing is I kind of do.” The words were out of Colt’s mouth before he could think, and there was no stuffing them back.
Daniel shook her head glossy hair swirling around her like a storm. “This reminds me of Mr. Wells. Me propositioning you. Acting like I don’t know it would get you into trouble. I’m not sixteen anymore; I should fucking know better.”
Colt wondered what she’d say if he told her he’d jerked off to a re-imagining of that very scenario. Daniel approaching him, upgraded to eighteen in even the filthy recesses of his mind, and asking him to take her virginity. He’d never fetishized the idea before, hell he’d never taken anyone’s virginity for fear of how the girl would react, but the idea of initiating Daniel into sex made his whole body thrum. It might be the same, just knowing he was the first man to make her come on his cock. Playing teacher and student. Playing at being a better, hotter, more satisfying teacher than Mr. Wells.
“Daniel…” he began. Then he heard the exterior door to the bunker creak open. “Fuck. John’s back.”
“Go.” Daniel stood up, grabbed her notepad and pen and moved away from the counter. “Thanks for a laugh, Tarzan. It was nice.”
Nice was exactly what he didn’t want to hear but Colt didn’t have a chance to say anything else. He released his now sore finger from the intercom, picked up his phone and hit the ESPN app, trying to recline in his chair like he’d been doing it for hours.
John burst through the door bringing the meaty smell of burgers with him. “Hey, man.”
Colt glanced up, his heart hammering. “Hey.”
“Lunch.” John dumped a grease-spotted bag in front of him. “How is Schwartz?”
Colt glanced up to see Daniel on the couch, once again writing in her notebook. “Nothin’ to report.”
“Good.” John looked cheerful for some unknown reason. “You know, the waves are decent. Once the kid’s up you should head out. Take a break.”
“Right.” Colt pulled his double bacon cheeseburger from the bag, his stomach feeling about the size of an egg.
“Something up?” John asked, his pale green eyes drilling into the side of Colt’s head.
“Nope.” He took a huge bite out of his burger. It tasted like cardboard. “Third bag for Rhodes?”
“Yeah, thought he’d be up by now.”
Colt got to his feet, eager for a few seconds away from John to pull himself more firmly together. “I’ll go get him.”
“Fine, but tell him I see him making eyes at Schwartz I’m gonna throw his food outside.”
It wasn’t a threat, more a lazy, passing jab but the reminder that Daniel was off limits roared through Colt’s head like a semi-trailer.
“Why don’t you lay off him, man? He knows he can’t lay a fucking hand on the girl, why can’t you respect all the effort he’s been making to stay out of her way?”
One of John’s eyebrows went up. Way up.
“I’m not saying he didn’t fuck up, letting her steal his lanyard,” Colt continued, determined to dig himself out of the huge-ass grave he’d just landed in. “But I feel sorry for the asshole; he spends enough time getting shit from his girlfriend, he doesn’t need you making him feel worse.”
John stared at him for a beat then shrugged. “Never thought I’d see the day you were defending Seb’s feelings but fine, I’ll lay off. Still, he’s got it bad for Schwartz.”
Colt snorted. Daniel was so far from Seb’s type it was ridiculous. Colt had met his girlfriend, she was a skinny blond, about as exotic as whole egg mayonnaise. Her insane hold on her boyfriend was easily the most interesting thing about her. The idea that Seb could go from a girl like that to a woman like Daniel…
He snorted again. “He just hasn’t seen enough tits. He doesn’t really like her.”
“He does,” John warned. “But whatever, get him before I eat his fries.”
“Fine.” Colt walked down the hall thinking that he might have just gotten away with his outburst. He pushed open the door to the communal bedroom and looked around for Seb. “Rise and shine, sweethe— shit.”
The kid was on his back. His body was taut, all bunched muscles and sweat-slicked skin. His right fist was wrapped around his cock and he was stroking hard enough to go blind. That wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that he was pressing a scrap of silk to his mouth. Silk Colt could have identified anywhere; the pale blue panties Daniel had been wearing yesterday.
Seb froze. “Shit,” he blurted out. “Shit. Colt. This ain’t…I’m not…”
“Leaving. Leaving now.” Colt backed away quicker than his brain could think and slammed the door behind him. He leaned back against the brick wall breathing hard.
“All good?” John called.
“Yeah,” Colt bellowed, his throat tight enough to snap. “He’ll be up soon.”
Once he comes. All over the panties I admired long and hard yesterday when they were on our captive’s ass. Colt pressed over his eyes and moaned quietly. He fucking hated when John was right.