Page 19 of Don’t Call Me Son

I hesitate for a second… then lean in shyly and press a soft, tentative kiss to his lips. The second I do it, embarrassment floods me. I start to pull away, mumbling, “Sorry, I…”

Colt doesn’t let me. His hand slides to the back of my neck and holds me there gently but firmly, kissing me back; slow and full of something I don’t have a name for. When he finally lets me pull back just enough to breathe, his forehead rests against mine. I’m still blushing, heart racing.

I don’t know what comes over me… the next thing I know, I’m surging forward again like I did in the truck, needy and completely out of control.

I climb on top of Colt without thinking, straddling his waist, hands fisting in his shirt as I kiss him harder. My robe falls open again, I don’t care; I just want to be closer. I want him to keep seeing me; I want him to keep holding all the broken pieces.

Colt makes a surprised but pleased sound against my mouth as I grind down against him, breathing fast and shaky. My hands slide into his hair, tugging, and I kiss him like I’m starving… messy and a little clumsy with how overwhelmed I feel.

I’ve never felt this seen before; never felt this wanted. And right now, it’s making me lose my mind.

I break the kiss just enough to pant against his lips, hips rolling helplessly. “Colt…”

He grips my thighs hard, steadying me. His eyes are dark and intense in the early morning light, watching every frantic movement I make, like he’s memorizing it.

I kiss him again, even more desperately, like if I stop, I might forget how it feels to be truly seen.

I can feel how hard he is underneath me and it makes me even more frantic. I’ve never felt this before. I just want him to have me. I want him to see every part of me after last night.

But Colt suddenly grips my hips tightly, stilling me. “Archie,” he says, rough, but firm. “Not right now.”

I freeze; the rejection hits me like ice water. My face burns instantly; I feel so stupid… so embarrassingly desperate. I start to pull away, mumbling, “Sorry… I… I’ll just…”

“Hey.” Colt’s hand catches the back of my neck, gentle but unyielding, keeping me from retreating. He looks up at me with those steadying eyes. “Don’t do that. Don’t pull away thinking I don’t want you.”

I stay still, breathing hard, cheeks flaming.

Colt strokes his thumb along my jaw, voice dropping softer. “I want you so fucking bad right now, baby. Trust me. But I want to hear every single noise you make. I want to take my time with you. And right now? I can’t do that the way I want to, not until your mom has gone to work.”

He pulls me down so our foreheads rest together. “It’s Saturday. We’ve got all day once she leaves for work at lunch. No rush, no sneaking around; just you and me.” He kisses me deep, then pulls back with a small, heated smirk. “When I finally get my hands on you properly… I want you loud, Archie. Think you can handle that?”

I’m still flushed and embarrassed, but the reassurance and promise in his voice make something warm bloom in my chest. I nod shyly, biting my lip.

Colt smiles and presses one last soft kiss to my mouth. “Good boy.”

…

I’m still in my robe, curled up on the couch in the living room.

Mom came downstairs about an hour ago. She looked like she’d been crying. Colt had apparently spoken to her; not about everything, obviously, but enough. She wrapped her arms around me tight and apologized through tears for not giving me more time and attention after Dad died. For not being the strong one when I needed her to be. I just smiled and held her, telling her I felt a little better this morning; it wasn’t a lie.

She doesn’t have to go to work for another two hours, so we’re watching one of those old sitcoms I used to love when I was younger. We keep laughing at the same stupid jokes, and it feels nice.

Then Colt walks in from the kitchen carrying two heaping plates of a full American breakfast on those padded trays we almost never use. Eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and toast, the works. It smells incredible.

Mom gasps and straightens up. “Oh, love… you didn’t have to do all of this. Thank you.”

Colt leans down and kisses her forehead. “You’re welcome, love.”

I stare at the plate he sets in front of me, completely speechless. There’s a thick lump in my throat. It’s been a really long time since anyone has cooked for me like this in a morning, unprovoked. Usually, I’m fine with cereal. I don’t like to be a bother; I don’t like thinking about someone standing in the kitchen for that long.

I look up at Colt, eyes stinging.

He smiles softly at me and says, “You better eat that, kid.”

I laugh shakily and nod, but then ask, “What about you?”

Colt grins and shakes his head. “Can’t you be selfish for once?”