Cole (The Leaves) (27 page)

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Authors: J.B. Hartnett

BOOK: Cole (The Leaves)
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Cole 27

Cole

I admit, when Anika told me she wanted to paint tonight, I was worried. We had both done battle with our respective demons and for the most part had conquered them. When I spoke to the therapist on my own, I explained that Anika was my cure. It was suggested that I might need to deal with some co-dependency issues but I think it was understood I didn’t give a fuck. My attitude was this: for whatever reason, we were brought together, we went through hell together, and we healed together. My world was very much about Anika and good or bad, that’s just how it was.

I could hear the music playing upstairs. I pictured her in her jeans and wife beater, no bra, feet bare, her right hand sometimes wielding up to three brushes at once, her left holding a wooden pallet. I knew how the muscles in her shoulders worked under her fair skin. I knew that when she was working out a particularly difficult memory, she would sometimes crouch down with her heels at the back her thighs until she could continue. I knew that watching her go through the process was such an intense, emotional pain, there were tears in that paint. I also knew…

Something was different.

I wanted to ask her earlier but I never got the opportunity. I’d been watching her carefully for weeks now. At first I was concerned that she was going to have some kind of break; that the abduction was catching up with her more than she let on. She insisted the therapist she was seeing had helped immensely, but I still wasn’t convinced. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I knew whatever secret she was holding, whether she was aware of it or not, it was affecting her. She was more emotional than usual, but not sensitive… sympathetic. And if it was possible, our love-making was also more intense and un-fucking-believable.

I finished cleaning up from our impromptu barbeque and made my way into the garage. I had storage there and thought this was as good a time as any to get the two suitcases out that would be joining us on our “honeymoon.” My mom, bless her, had also been following the weather and kitted Anika out in a snow ready wardrobe, unbeknownst to her of course. I knew she’d be happy, as long as she was warm and my mother hadn’t stopped at the simple wool lined boots and thick gloves: she had socks, long underwear, thermal tops, sweaters, scarves… it went on and on.

My thoughts again drifted toward my soon to be bride, “painting it out” upstairs. I strained my ears to hear what she was listening to when it dawned on me I heard… nothing. I stopped and thought about what that meant. About a month ago, we’d been sitting on the couch, watching a movie with Tom Cruise and a song was playing in it called, “Save Me.” There was something almost haunting about the voice of the woman but what remained now was how Anika turned to me and said, “You saved me, Cole. It started that day in the bar and ended with a ring and a promise of your fucked-up and my fucked-up.” She never mentioned the fact that Joe had taken her, ripped her fucking fingers to shreds, killed her worthless mother and left her with a back-log of so many fucked-up childhood memories. She had painting fodder to last both our lifetimes. But she never focused on it. If something was weighing on her, or just the memory of being zip-tied to a bed or the sight of pliers (which happened incidentally when our security system was being upgraded), we spoke about it. But she never had a major-panic attack again. Never. She admitted that although singing brought on the really bad ones, she had minor ones that she was able to control and breathe through. But she said I saved her, I healed her, Joe and her mother were gone and we won. Our love had won.

I took the large red cases into the living room and opened them, arranging the bags of snow-bunny gear and my own cold weather clothing. I already knew that the telescope had been taken to the cabin. As much as I wanted Anika to have the snow experience, I hoped we would have a night of clear skies so she could really see the stars.

I’d waited long enough. I opened a bottle of wine and poured a half glass for Anika. I would normally have joined her long before now, but I felt like she needed this time to herself. It was just a feeling I had but still, I needed to be near her and with her now. I carried the glass and the open bottle to the downstairs bathroom where I’d hung “the jeans” as she called them on the back of the door. I turned on the light, setting down the wine and glass and began to undress, catching my reflection as I went. With just a quick glance, I saw the oak leaves on each shoulder… the symbol that bound me to Anika, then I looked to my wrists. The scars were barely visible anymore but what surprised me was the realization that I no longer felt that ache of regret at not succeeding. I hadn’t felt that since Anika came into my life. It was replaced by the painful knowledge that I almost ended it all those years ago. I never would have known real love or beauty. Fuck, I got lucky.

I, those jeans, and the wine made our way upstairs. All I could hear were waves, just the ocean, lapping at the shoreline. The rain had started only ten minutes before and whatever she had painted was now facing the stormy sea. That pain she’d committed to canvas was going to wake with the morning sun and she would be in my arms.

I took my position on the bed, my back against the wall. She knew I was there and turned, so slowly it was almost painful to watch her breathtaking beauty. When I took in the sight of her lovely face, she was smiling, not at all what I expected to see. Her long brown hair fell past her shoulders in perfect waves, drawing attention to her hard nipples poking through the ribbed white fabric, still stained with her blood and paint. She crossed her arms at the hem and lifted it over her head, throwing the shirt to the side. Her jeans followed and she kicked them away and stood before me, exposed and beautiful.

“Cole…”

She said my name as if asking permission. “Yes, God, so beautiful…”

“That shirt and those jeans…” she nodded her head toward the discarded pile on the floor and smiled. It was then I understood… she was at peace.

I went onto my knees and moved to the end, pulling her naked belly to my head, and wrapping her in my arms. “So strong, my beautiful girl.”

Her fingers went through my hair and I closed my eyes at the sensation of her touch. I was hard before I even walked into the room, knowing what awaited me. Seeing her paint just took me to another plane, more than physical or emotional. I felt like I was being included in something so precious, it was a gift she had no idea she was giving to me.

The routine I’d come to expect upon entry to this arena was gone and in its place was love. Her beautiful hands moved down to my shoulders and pushed me back. She looked at me with such adoration in her eyes that it made me want to weep with happiness.

I kissed around her navel, thinking this was what she wanted, our ritual if you will: she would paint it out, I would wait and watch then I would give to her, anything and everything she wanted.

But not this time: this time was different. “I want to lie next to you; I want to breathe you in, Cole. And tomorrow, I want to be with you in every way but here, now…”

She didn’t need to say another word. I pulled us onto the bed and tucked her body in to mine, feeling the exhaustion seep out of hers and that’s when I understood, again, that whatever she had painted had taken everything dark out of her.

“You’re freezing, Anika. I’ll run down to the bedroom and get you some pajamas.” But she was already asleep. I held her and carefully pushed off my jeans whispering, “Tomorrow, Missus Carlyle.”

***

“Cole. Baby…”

“I’m dreaming about waking up in the arms of an angel.” I refused to open my eyes and face the day. I was exactly where I wanted to be. “But she’s really slutty.” I knew that would get her.

She giggled. “Baby, we better get up. We have ten tons of crap to do today”

“I thought everything was done for us.” I had a four page itinerary to prove it.

“It is, it will be, but it’s already noon.”

That made me open my eyes. “Noon?”

“Yep. We slept ‘til noon.” She ran her fingers over my lips. “Sorry I fell asleep last night.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

She smiled. “Because I broke tradition.”

“Ah, Anika. It was a perfect night and you know… we did have that amazing little appetizer before everyone arrived.” I trailed a finger down her sternum to her breast and circled around her nipple making it stand at attention.

She moaned as her eyes closed. “You are a wicked, wicked man Cole Carlyle.”

“You love me though.” I began moving that one finger south.

“Yes, I do.” She bit her lip and opened her eyes in anticipation of what I might do.

“And we have all night together. So this-” I dipped one finger inside her, something I had done when we were first together, “Is just another appetizer.” I pulled my hand to my mouth and sucked.

“You are filthy, Cole. Filthy. And you’re a tease.” She laughed.

“That too.” I grinned. “But I know you have to be somewhere in an hour if my itinerary is the same as yours.”

“Yeah and honestly… I really have to pee.” She began to move from the bed but I pulled her back by her wrists. “Kiss me, Anika Redding.”

Her soft lips met mine but her eyes didn’t close at first, only when the kiss deepened. She moved first. “I really have to go, Cole. God, I’m so sorry.” She said embarrassed.

“Do we need to have that conversation again?” She giggled as she bounded out of the room. We did have a very full day, or I did at least. As far as I knew, everything Anika had planned was about relaxation and pampering and deep tissue massage. I on the other hand needed to finish packing. Anthony was driving up to the mountain to get everything ready at the cabin, and incidentally, Anika’s friend and gallery manager, Abe was joining him for the drive. That was actually going to work out perfectly since Anika wanted last night’s painting to be there too. I knew I could trust Abe to discreetly transport the painting with great care and I did not want to risk seeing it and ruining her surprise.

I resisted joining her in the shower and when she appeared forty-five minutes later, her hair was still damp. Instead of her normal jeans, she had on a velour tracksuit and black converse. “Anika, you look hot.” Her ass was hugged perfectly in the pants. Not able to deny myself, I walked behind her as she entered the kitchen and opened the freezer.

She turned into my arms as I grabbed her ass. “Cole, you scared me!” She jumped.

“You must’ve been in deep thought.” She held a box of toaster waffles. “I was about to make some eggs.” I explained.

“Eggs sound good.”

“Aren’t you having waffles?” I asked.

“I’m having both and you should too. I don’t know about you, but my days with your mom and Aimes seem to consist of miniature food: tiny sandwiches, tiny quiches, and tiny cakes. Everything is mini-food. Then, you take maybe three or four which still wouldn’t amount to the size of a normal sandwich and you feel like a pig. So I end up taking one of each item in the mini smorgasbord but I’m starving by the end… and you should see poor Aimes. Actually, I should pack her a lunch of normal sized food. Anyway, my point is, we need our strength Cole and then there’s tonight and then all day tomorrow is going to be, well, huge and then tomorrow night at the cabin… Cole, have a damn waffle and some eggs.”

I hadn’t expected the well thought out explanation which was accompanied by a playful smile so I opened the fridge again and found another breakfast item.

“What’s that?” She asked

“Bacon.” I smiled and turned to pour her a mug of coffee.

“Genius. You are a genius.” She took a sip of coffee. “Unfortunately, I have less than fifteen minutes before your mom gets here so bacon is going to be a no for me.” She looked from me to the door. Then to the waffles, then to me and in an instant, she was pushing my sweat pants down my hips.

“What are you doing, baby?” I grinned as she moved me behind the counter out of the view of our front door.

“Just in case your mom is early.” She dropped to her knees and smiled at my growing cock, looking up at me. “You always get to me before I get to you.” She said cupping my balls gently in her hand, “Finally, I got here first.”

As the initial stroke of her hand gripped around me, I was already close. I loved pleasuring her and every time she tried to reciprocate I would stop her after only a minute because I wanted nothing more than to be buried inside her. I wanted her mouth on mine but God, when her tongue licked me from base to tip, circled around the head and took the little bead on top with a flick… I almost lost it right there. I grabbed her hair behind each ear and held it firmly, guiding her movements and gaining rhythm. “Anika!” I hissed, “God, baby… I’m going to let you do this more often,” She gave a muffled response. “Sorry, baby – I didn’t understand you.” I chuckled.

She slid her mouth back and looked up at me as I loosened my grip. “I love it, Cole.” She gave me a genuine bright smile, “I love making you feel as good as you make me feel.” She then grabbed my hips, pulling me in until I hit the back of her throat, taking me deep with each and every thrust until I felt it: hard and fast I was there in an instant, trying to pull away, but she held me to her and took everything I had, milking every last drop from me. I shuddered at the intensity of the sensation as she gingerly pulled me from her mouth and kissed the head, saying, “I’ll be seeing you later,” and laughed.

She pulled my sweats back up and over my semi-erect penis and took a casual sip of her coffee, smiling as she did.

I watched her checking off a mental list and going through her purse. Just then, early, my mom walked in the door. Thank God it wasn’t thirty seconds earlier. I stayed hidden behind the counter.

“Mom? Knocking? Remember about the knocking?”

“Really, Cole, I’m only a few minutes early: I thought I was fairly safe from walking in on anything… you know… awkward.”

Anika was choking on her coffee, sitting down at the counter with her plate of just-ready waffles. “And how are you today, Anika?”

She swallowed, set down her cup and cut a huge chunk of waffle. “Never better, Trish. How are you?”

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