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"Does she want to get out?" I asked.
"When she's not flying," Annie said and seemed to pass out.
I patted her cheek roughly. "Annie!"
She opened both eyes and frowned at me.
"Does Chloe need help tonight?"
"Oh," she said, as if my having patted her rather hard had made sense. "Nope. Right as rain. But soon. Because that Claude...?"
I waited for He's an asshole but she didn't say it. Waiting, I looked at her. Really looked past the mechanics of getting her dressed so she wouldn't be more traumatized than she obviously was by whatever had happened. Looked past being obscurely surprised and delighted that she'd stolen Clyde's prized car.
There were marks on her that shouldn't be there. She had scuff marks on her face. Bruises on her legs and ass I'd seen while getting her dressed.
The rage finally had a place to focus.
Annie focused too, just then. She roused herself and sat more upright in the seat. Her eyes found mine. "We have to get Chloe out because it's bad there." She tightened her lips and nodded. "And Cole?"
"Yes, Annie."
"We have to get her out because Claude...?"
"Is an asshole?"
But for a moment she was stunningly sober as she looked deep into my eyes. She shook her head. "No. Claude. Is a dead man."
44
Annie
Aftercare.
It mattered. Aftercare was arnica cream and aloe gel. Aftercare was hot tea with brandy in it which tasted bad but bloomed inside me with heat.
It was a hot shower that Cole carried me into. His big, beautiful shower with shower heads on three sides, the enclosure itself of natural stone that heated under my feet. He slid me down his body and held me against him, letting me lean. Probably I was more than only semi conscious but I didn't have to admit it. To him or to me.
He lathered my hair with shampoo and washed it out again twice, as if knowing I needed to feel clean. He ran conditioner through it with his fingers and let that sit while he used a citrus body gel on my face, gently massaging jaw muscles, then turning me so he could scrub and massage my neck and shoulders and back. It should have felt like flashback material to have him pressed against me, but though he was hard, though we were naked, there was something less erotic than comforting.
His hands moved around to the front of my body and washed my breasts, sliding his hands under them to touch the silky skin there. Down my stomach, slicking gel into the curves of my hipbones, and down.
I started to cry when he washed between my legs, but when he tried to stop, I shook my head. Claude hadn't fucked me but I still felt violated and filthy and I wanted Cole's hands there, replacing those memories.
When he'd rinsed me there he turned me, maybe planning to let me hold on to him with my arms around his neck as he turned off the water and got us out of there. But he looked down at me, our faces indistinct in the roiling steam of the shower, and our eyes met. Cole bent his head and kissed me and I found myself going up on tiptoes to meet his mouth, my calves aching from having been strung up that way, but the muscles eager for this use.
He pulled me tight to him, his erection pressed between us. My arms did go up and circle his neck and Cole moaned into my mouth. I ran my tongue along his bottom lip, then slid it farther into his mouth.
He stroked his hands down my back, cupped my ass, and then he was leaning back against the heated stone of the shower, pulling me with him, pulling me up. My legs wrapped around his waist and his cock pressed up against me until with a sharp pop of sensation, he found his way inside me.
What started gentle turned urgent. His hips bucked, fucking me hard, and I met him thrust for thrust. Our mouths were hard on each other, tongues in each other's mouths, hands touching hair, touching skin, grabbing and stroking and pulling closer and closer still.
He turned off the water without releasing me. I pulled down towels from the racks as we passed, threw them onto his bed before he fell backwards onto it, carrying me down. We rolled and he came up above me, up on his rigid arms, the muscle standing out there as he moved between my hips, stroking in and out of me in long, hard thrusts.
I pulled on him, needing him close, and watched him arch his back, coming in that second, filing me hot and wet, before he went down to his elbows, his forearms up on either side of my arms, his hands in my hair, his mouth on my throat, his breath in my ear. He was hard again without ever pulling out, just hard and in me and fucking, fucking, fucking.
My own orgasm tightened my muscles, coiling everything up until I fell over the edge, pulsing and pulsing around his cock, shockwaves traveling throughout my body, my nails raking his back, my breath coming hard and ecstatic.
He tucked me up against his chest, my head on the hollow between throat and shoulder, and we slept until the sunlight in the uncurtained windows woke us.
