Page 85 of Detour

Obnoxious laughter steals our attention so we turn in time to watch as Beckett draws a penis with his lit sparkler. It’s on the large side, but then again so is he. Coty draws his heart, Beck draws his dick. It kind of makes me wonder what Marc would draw. Oddly enough, I can picture him placing it between his lips and trying to smoke the stupid thing.

I hear someone shout “cannonball” before I see, and feel, the splash. The pool party really kicks in then along with a game of Chicken—which somehow looks closer to Turducken once Beckett’s enormous form joins in.

With my eyes glued to the action, I miss Coty coming up behind me, his hands sneaking around to my exposed stomach. We’re both mosaics of color and with his skin on mine, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

Coty’s lips touch my ear. “What about you?” I arch into him on reflex and he groans softly, tightening his hold. “Do you want to get wet?”

I glance up at him through heavy lashes. “Are you offering?”

Eyes holding mine, he says, “Always.”

First, he stole my heart, reducing the vital organ to a mere toy—one he can wind up at will. Then, he stole my breath, straight from my lungs without so much as asking. With the way my body’s reacting to his now, I can only imagine it’s the next to bolt, leaving my mind the only thing left intact, untouched by Coty’s pilfering ways. For now.

My hand in his, he leads me to the empty stairwell. He peeks at me over his shoulder, his gaze soft, and I nod gently, giving him the permission he’s always seeking. Slowly, he walks up the stairs with me trailing closely behind. Other than my hand in his, nothing else on either of us is touching, and that distance is more noticeable than the raucous noise at our backs. I bite my lip, watching his muscled back as we approach our end of the hallway. Coty veers toward my side and I open the door wordlessly.

Just as the lock twists into place again, I’m lifted and pinned against the cold metal. Wrapping my legs around him leaves Coty’s hands free to roam. He frames my face before snatching up my lips with his in a soul searing kiss. His very hard, very impressive, erection presses into me earning a moan so loud it could rival the music still pulsing downstairs. The sound encourages Coty in his quest to ruin me for any other kiss in my lifetime, and he picks up the pace, rolling his tongue like waves in the sea while mine fights to stay afloat, not yet willing to fully submit. His mouth is frantic and his body matches, grinding into mine with complete abandon. Soon, my pathetic swimsuit bottom will fall apart at the seams from the friction alone. I break apart to tell him as much when his mouth drops to my jaw, kissing his way to my ear.

Lost in the feel of Coty’s mouth, a weird noise from his throat brings me back to the moment and I open my eyes to see Coty lean back, eyebrows drawn low.

“Shower?”

“Excuse me?” I’ve been outside all day, what does he expect?

He chuckles, placing me on my feet again. “No.” He shakes his head. “The paint. It’s everywhere.” He points to our bodies. “And it doesn’t taste very good.” Looking down, realization dawns and my face heats. “I was asking if you want to get a shower…together?”

Coty’s nearly black eyes gaze into mine, full of so much more hope than I can handle at the moment. If ever.

He steps back, once again letting me take the lead, so I pull his hand, guiding him to my tiny bathroom wondering how we’re both going to fit inside.

Coty’s fingers dance over my back as I turn on the water. Finding my bikini’s top clasp, he unhooks it, and we both watch as it falls to the floor. Coty climbs into the warm water first, holding a hand out for me. Only when I’m under the steady spray, does his gaze drop to my chest, warming me from the inside as the water heats my outside. His eyes collide with mine revealing even more emotion than before. I tilt my head back to soak my hair, giving me a chance to get ahold of the most important piece here—my mind. I let the water run over my face, washing away the pink paint dried there. I open my eyes to find Coty standing inches away, his breathing jagged, his fists clenched tight. Our gazes meet and then we’re smiling. A moment passes before I pull him to me with shaky hands.

Bare chest to bare chest, he whispers, “Are you sure?”

My eyes flick between his. “Yes,” I breathe out, more certain of this than anything else in my life.

I’m past want, I know I need Coty. In exactly what manner? I’m still not sure but I can figure that part out later. Tonight is about letting go. Tonight is about friends. And although that title going anywhere near Coty’s name leaves a sour taste in my mouth, I’ll happily leave out labels if it means he stays and finishes what he’s started.

I run my hands over his body, acquainting myself with the dips of his muscles. Coty groans, pressing into me but careful to keep his hands flexed at his sides. Mine do no such thing as they trail down his taut arms ending at his clenched fingers, coaxing them open. I place his large palms on my waist then continue my exploration of the piece of art in front of me. Coty’s grip tightens, but he remains still otherwise, as I take my time discovering his body under the guise of washing away paint. I’m nothing if not efficient. Every muscle tight and flexed—besides the labored rise and fall of his chest—Coty is the picture of a man in pain. If it wasn’t for the rigid tent in his shorts, I’d believe he was.

Once he’s a blank canvas again, he helps to rub the paint off me as well albeit at a much, much more tortuous pace. My nails dig into his shoulders as his skilled hands drive me near the brink of insanity. His special attention to my breasts in particular has me moaning and arching shamelessly. Each touch, every stroke, my greedy body chases, begging for more. Anything to help the ache in my center. When the throbbing finally proves too much, I drop my hands to his shorts, yanking at the drawstring. One frenzied tug later, they loosen and sink lower, exposing more of that delicious V I’ve been drooling over all night. I lick my already wet lips as I push the trunks the rest of the way down. Coty’s stiff erection springs free when I slide the material down his thighs and he lets out a hiss. Like a moth to a flame, my hand reaches out to his tantalizing cock. Wrapping my hand around the base, I get one full slow stroke in before Coty catches both wrists in his hand, hoisting them over my head.

My protest is cut off as his mouth slams down on mine, backing me into the wall. With my bottoms still on, Coty’s erection slides across the material, making me cry out. If I had access to my hands, I’d remedy the problem myself but Coty’s taken over and is showing no hesitation whatsoever. I do what I can in chasing his member with each thrust, hoping he’ll take pity on me sooner rather than later.

I smile triumphantly when Coty rips his mouth away, panting, before releasing my wrists and dropping to his knees.

The victory cheer on my tongue dies out as his thumbs slide into my bottoms, pulling them down in one fell swoop. Next, he lets out a curse and even though he’s seen me mostly naked before, I still have to fight the urge to cover myself. Remembering how familiar with downtown he became during his last visit, I drop my hands to his steady shoulders instead. If he’s this eager to return, then why bother hiding at all?

My heart beats erratically as I watch Coty take care raising one foot at a time to remove my bottoms. It full-on stutters as he looks up at me with those darkening eyes. Lifting my left leg again, he places it on his shoulder before finally breaking eye contact. I can practically feel his gaze as it drops along my body ending between my thighs. The tepid water is doing nothing for my overheated state.

“So fucking beautiful, babe,” he whispers as he lowers his mouth.

His kiss-soaked lips graze my pussy and I jerk. Coty’s hands grab my ass, yanking me forward until I’m the equivalent of a mask he’s decided to wear for the night.

His mouth teases a rhythm of lick, lick, suck, repeat. His hands knead my ass cheeks as his groans vibrate my clit leaving me panting like it’s the hottest new song. And honestly, maybe it is. He’s that good and I’m happy to tell him. Coty turns to bite my thigh resting on his shoulder and I cry out from the sudden pain before he can suck it all away, leaving behind a faint bruise.

“So sweet,” he mumbles against my skin. One of those notorious chills appears, running up my spine.

He kisses his way to my inner thigh then latches onto my clit. I drop my head back, reveling in the feel of his mouth on my most sensitive part. It’s not long before the shaking starts up.