Marital Bitch (Men with Badges)

Chapter SIXTEEN

(Brad)

“Brad,” she says all serious, “We’re having sex.”

THE DAY HAD gone to complete shit. First of all, I hate waking up to a murder. Second, Colleen’s little stunt at the station had been haunting me all day. By the time I left work it seemed everyone in South Boston knew about it. They’re all nosey as is, and this whole thing was really starting to piss me off.

The pro down on East Broadway turned out to be a college girl—from Harvard. I don’t know what she was doing down there, but if I was to guess, she was trying to score some Adderall. Once college kids figured out ADHD medication would make pulling an all-nighter easy as pie, we started picking them up after trying to score in some pretty rough parts of town. Stupid children. Whatever happened to doing things right, even if they aren’t easy?

I remember Colleen trying that once when she was at Harvard. She was a year from graduating and her grades were in the toilet. I don’t think she would have graduated that next spring without the little extra help she was getting from Adderall. As it is, she skated through her final year with high C’s. Once I found out she was doing that, I put an end to it, and we haven’t talked about it since. She’s reckless—always has been—and she doesn’t think things through.

By the time Colleen stormed out of the station, the stench of indignation hot on her backside; I had gone from angry to amused. My pretty girl can’t stand anybody coming before her in my life. This plan with Vicky was perfect. Although, I knew by the time this was over and done with, I’d owe Vic big time. Maybe this was a bad idea? Colleen can be pretty cruel and I’m purposefully putting one of my closest friends in the line of fire… eh. Whatever. Vic’s tough and she’s got her glock if Colleen gets crazy. I just hope it doesn’t come to that.

So anyway, I come home and it’s dark out already. Colleen isn’t home, but her car is. After what I dealt with today, irrational fear welled up inside of me and I began to pace. She wasn’t with James or my mom or sisters. She wasn’t with the Chief or my dad. Lindsay and Adam hadn’t seen her. And I started to drink. And I continued to drink; and then my stupid ass thought to call Darla—after I was already pretty damn drunk. Like I said, I’m stupid. So I call Darla and she tells me that Colleen was with her—and she’s on her way home. And get this—that I should be nice to her. What the hell?

Okay, I know my head is pretty foggy right now, but Darla had to be joking when she told me to be nice to her. Did Colleen not tell her how she royally embarrassed me at the station? She probably did tell her and they’re just man haters.

So, somehow we got from my drunk-ass worried about my stupid, stupid, pretty girl to her mauling me with her lips. I’m too stunned to respond. Wasn’t I just mad at her? Hadn’t I just scared her? Does she like drunken a*sholes? I don’t get it. So I don’t kiss back at first. I just stand there… being attacked. Seriously, if I was a chick and some dude was all up on me like this; it wouldn’t be cute or funny, it’d be scary. But I’m not a chick, I’m a man. I have a penis; so I do what men do. I act.

I start to move my lips against hers and she bites me. She bites my lower lip and instinctively, I open my mouth to her. Her tongue slides against mine and I’m a goner. This is better than every other time we’ve kissed. This is even better than the other morning… on my bed.

As the kiss heats up, Colleen’s hands start to wander. They move cautiously from my neck down to my chest. She pinches my left nipple and holy hell, I thought that would be weird but it’s not—it’s a turn-on. Plus, this means I can pinch her nipple now, right?

My lower half is throbbing with need. If we don’t move things along soon, it might be too late. I reach around to her curves and knead, pressing her body against my penis. She feels so good pressed against me. This only spurs her on further. Like a woman gone mad, she starts trying to climb up me. I move my hands from her butt to the backs of her thighs and I pick her up. She wraps her legs around my waist and begins to gyrate against me. I shouldn’t be thinking and should just go with it, but all I can think is: where has this Colleen been all my life? Not that I don’t like the other one, but Mac is partial to this one.

“Brad,” she pants, nearly breathless. Her nails rake up my arms and she grabs my neck roughly. At this rate, she’d break a lesser man; as it is, I’m barely hanging on. She grinds against me. “Take me to bed already.” I swear I can hear Mac cheering in the background. I want to throw her down on the couch and rip her clothes off. But this is the first time for us in years—as adults—and considering I’ve been in love with this maniac my entire life, it just sounds tacky.

“Say please,” I say, moving to her neck. I didn’t have time to shave this morning, so I’m as gentle as I can be, trying not to mark her up too bad. Her hands latch onto my hair, urging me on. Nip. Suck. Lick. I’m covering all the bases here.

“What?” she mumbles through a moan.

“I want,” bite “you” nuzzle “to” lick “say” suck “please.” She pulls her head back and raises an eyebrow at me.

“Are you serious right now, pretty boy?” she asks, her thick Boston accent pouring out of every word. I grin at her incredulous look and buck into her core. She moans softly, trying to control her body’s response. If she just says “please” then we can get on with the show.

“Just say please and I’ll take you to bed. I promise, pretty girl,” I kiss her lips gently but her hand comes up, lightly smacking me in the face.

“I’m not going to beg, dumb ass.” Damn. Impasse. Now is not the ideal time to be at an impasse.

“Please just say please, Colleen,” I whine.

“Why?” she asks. I almost tell her it’s because I’ve envisioned her begging me to make love to her for years and with that one little word, one of my many, many fantasies can come true. But she’s being difficult. I guess this means she won’t dress up as Princess Leia, either.

“Please,” I beg. She smirks. What just happened here? She kisses me, holding on for dear life. I lose myself in the kiss, forgetting what we were talking about or why.

“What was that, pretty boy?” she whispers, her teeth nipping at my ear.

“Please,” I whisper roughly, my hot breath ghosting on her neck. This woman is driving me insane.

“Okay, pretty boy,” she giggles, “Take me to bed.” She pinches my nipple again sending a shock down to Mac. I’m so hard it’s nearly painful. I’m distracted and not completely listening to her, but I think she just made me beg her. She’s sneaky, always has been.

I shake the confusion away and hold her tightly against me as I rush us through the living room and up the stairs. By the time we get to the top of the stairs, I’m panting, but it’s not because of how much I want her. I don’t care how skinny a woman is, she’s still heavy after a flight of stairs. I walk us into my room—I guess it’s our room now. Eyeing the phone, I decide that blasted thing is not going to ruin this for us again. Reaching around behind Colleen, I fumble, pulling the chord out of the wall. I hear plaster cracking. Crap. I’ll have to fix that later.

We tumble onto the bed in a frenzied mess. We push and pull at each other’s clothes, unable to contain ourselves. Before I know it, I have her in nothing but her bra and panties. Both are white, plain, and so perfectly Colleen. My shirt is off, thrown somewhere across the room. My pants are unbuckled and Colleen’s right hand is so very close to Mac. She just needs to move her hand a little to the left.

And as though God has opened heaven’s gate, rays of light shine through the clouds and her fingers gently stroke Mac. I think I hear angels singing. Her gentle stroke with the back of her fingers only lasts a moment. Just as Mac and I are trying to control ourselves so we don’t embarrass ourselves before we can even get in the holy land; Colleen wraps her hand around Mac and gives him a gentle squeeze through my boxers.

“So,” Colleen says, “you’re on deck, Patrick.” She is absolutely beautiful, lying on my bed, face flushed, chest heaving; and the best part is that she’s here for me. I laugh because she’s talking baseball and she knows what that does to me. The one thing in our entire lives that we have never argued about is the Red Sox. We both love our baseball—and thank God, too. That’s a deal breaker for me.

“Does that mean I get a practice swing?” I chuckle while kissing her neck. “You know, just in case I foul it off the first time?” Her body shakes with laughter.

“I’ll give you three strikes to get it right. You think you can handle that?” I reach beneath her, undoing her bra and tossing it over my head. I’ve seen her breasts before but this is different. In the past it was either on a dare or by “accident” or she was drunk and, well, I’m no saint—and then that one prom night. But this, here and now, is more than I’ve dreamed for. It is one thing to imagine pretty girl and it’s quite another to have her here. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, just to have her.

My hands each claim a breast, holding them gently. I take a moment to get a feel for the softness of her skin before I begin to massage her nipples. Her eyes are trained on mine, never wavering. Her breaths are coming in short pants, her lower half writhing on the bed in response to my efforts; but her eyes—they never leave mine. This doesn’t feel like anything else before. I guess this is making love?

I lean down, holding myself up on my elbows, and kiss her. I want to tell her that I love her. I want to tell her that she means the world to me. I want to tell her how long I’ve waited for this. But as long as I don’t know how she feels, I’m going to keep that to myself.

Our kiss turns from gentle and slow to rough and frantic. Her body shudders with every touch, she’s so very ready and I haven’t even gotten down to her aching core yet. I reach down to her panties and tug at the side. She lifts her butt up and helps me shimmy them down over her hips. I reach down, my fingers caressing her folds. She is wet, swollen. My thumb makes circles over her * as I slip a finger inside of her.

“Oh, shit!” she shouts, so loudly in my ears that I swear they’re ringing. Goose bumps appear on her damp flesh. I slip another finger inside as I pump in and out of her.

“You are so f*cking beautiful,” I whisper against her lips as she clamps around my fingers. I readjust my hand and curl my fingers inside of her as she shakes beneath me. I feel smug. Like a god who just created a new planet. I feel powerful.

And then, as her body is still shaking from her orgasm; she grips Mac again, and I’m putty in her hands. With frantic need she pushes my boxer briefs down and with them, my pants fall to the ground. She pulls my erection closer to her entrance.

“We really gonna do this, pretty girl?” I ask.

“Please,” she whimpers. I smirk down at her as I slowly slide inside of her. Deep in the back of my mind I’m chanting “I’m in, I’m in!” like a f*cking virgin on prom night. Coincidentally, that was the first and last time since I’ve been here; but this time she’s not yelling at me to hold still and I’m not so nervous that I think we’re going to get caught. Though, like the last time, I’m still afraid of losing myself and coming way too soon.

With her eyes fixed on mine, we don’t break contact. Her lips are parted, pert little mouth forming an “O” shape. Again, I feel smug, empowered. I pull out slowly. Her chest starts to shake. I’m thinking she’s close to coming again. I’m thinking I’m that good; but then it happens. She starts to laugh. Not a giggle. Not a small chuckle. She bursts out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. You have got to be kidding me.

“Are you laughing at me?” I ask, annoyed. I slam back into her, causing her laughter to break and a moan to escape. It only lasts a moment before her laughter turns to a giggle.

“Brad,” she says all serious, “We’re having sex.” And for some reason, that is funny; and I start laughing, too. This is probably the worst attempt at having sex in the history of mankind, but it’s fitting, it’s us. If ever there was a way to mess up sex, we would be the ones to figure it out.

My rhythm falters as I try to maintain some semblance of sexiness; but I’m pretty sure that went out the window when I nearly fell on top of her. Eventually our laughter dies down, giving way to panting and moaning. Our bodies are slick with sweat. We will need to shower after this; I just hope it’s together.

I switch between the gentle thrusts and hammering into her. Her body is responding and I know it won’t be long until she’s on the brink again. Her hips raise to meet mine, the sound of wet skin slapping against skin is sending me over the edge.

“Come for me, pretty girl,” I say in between ragged breaths. She directs my hand down to her * and I massage it gently. Her back arches off the bed and all I can think to myself is… it actually worked. In those crap romance books that Lindsay reads, all I should have to do is to tell Colleen to cum and she’ll see fireworks. Romance books for the win.

“Not yet,” she whispers. What? Okay? I rub her * a little harder, making her moan so loudly I think the neighbors might hear.

“Come for me, now, Colleen!” I say as I slam into her roughly. A few panting breaths and she regains her composure. With a raised eyebrow and smirk on her lips, she stares up at me, completely incensed.

“Are you serious right now?” And with that, my Colleen is back—snarky and irritable and so goddamn difficult. I think I actually missed this side of her.

“Yeah, come on,” I’m whining again, but I don’t care. I’m not going to last throughout this argument if she doesn’t f*cking come soon. I swear, I’m going to be pissed at her if I embarrass myself. “Please, Colleen,” I grit my teeth, trying to hold myself off.

“It doesn’t work like that.” Her lips are pursed and she’s looking at me like I’m the biggest idiot on the face of the earth; which is very likely an accurate assessment.

“It does in those books that Lindsay reads,” I try to defend myself, barely able to speak as the heat begins to spread from my groin down to my toes.

“You’re really talking about Lindsay right now?” I slam into her, changing the angle that I’m entering her. That shuts her up immediately as she throws her head back and moans. My thrusts are rough and soon enough I can’t hold off any longer. My head drops into the crevice of her neck as my orgasm rips through me. Just as I think I’ve let her down, her body spasms beneath me. I’ve come down from my high just enough to watch her face as she loses control. It’s beautiful and unlike anything else I’ve seen.