Detour: A Creekwood Novel (Creekwood Series Book 1)

Holding hands, we descend the stairs to the party, only it’s no longer recognizable as the party I left. The sun’s gone down making it dark save for the thousands of items now aglow. The pool alone must have hundreds of glowsticks strewn about the water, some wobbling at the bottom, others floating on the top. Each person adorned with rows and rows of glowsticks looks up and cheers as we hit the bottom step.

“You did this?” I turn my head to Coty.

“We did this. For you. We wanted to show you that even in the dark there’s light to be found.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a stack of bracelets. Snapping them, he attaches several to my wrists before doing his own. “And if there isn’t, then I can always make some.”

I smother his grin with a pressing kiss. Unable to express the gratitude I have for this man in words, I use my lips in a more skillful way.

“Ahem, I’ll have you know Marc and I helped, too.”

Coty keeps my waist close to his as I twist my neck to acknowledge Beckett. Coty continues to nibble at my ear, making it hard to concentrate but I manage—somewhat.

“Where is Marc by the way?”

Coty finally pulls away as he and Beckett share a look.

“He’ll be here.”

“Well, thank you, both of you, for this, for all of it. I love it.”

I wrap an arm around each of them, although my right arm only goes up to Beckett’s chest making it an awkward embrace all around. His height is definitely a challenge. How do girls have sex with someone so tall? Judging by how many of them are always hanging off the guy, they find a way.

“Let’s go, neighbor girl. Shots now. Dancing next.”

“What about food?” Coty interjects.

Beckett waves a hand. “Sure, eat something,” then like he almost forgot, he adds, “but not someone. We’re partying tonight, so no sneaking off.”

He points between us and my face warms. I peer over at Coty’s tattoos again. My tongue wets my lip as my eyes drift lower, taking in his chiseled abs. Sucking the lip between my teeth, I ogle the deep V stretching beneath his low-slung black shorts.

“Angie!” Long fingers snap in front of my face.

“What?” I scowl.

“Did you hear a thing I said? Shots first.”

My gaze returns to Coty to see he’s giving me the same appreciative look I was just giving him.

Like shots will help.

We each take a shot of clear liquor, nothing mixed despite Beckett’s request, then the boys take another. I check out the table filled with more goodies now that nighttime has arrived. At the other end, next to the jar of unlit sparklers, are various containers full of glowing necklaces, bracelets, and rings, along with some sort of paint.

Decked out in more glow paraphernalia, Beckett grabs my hand, leading me to the makeshift dance floor otherwise known as the grass. We dance together, mostly trying to outdo the other’s embarrassingly bad moves, until a couple of girls try to steal him away. Coty’s familiar hands grab my hips from behind and our little dance battle is quickly forgotten, Beckett moving onto better prospects.

I lean my head on his shoulder, close to Coty’s ear. “Hey.”

“Are you having fun?”

I arch back to slowly roll my hips. “Yeah. You?”

His hand slides around to my bare stomach, pulling me further into him. “I am if you are.”

We continue to dance dangerously close—considering he’s in shorts and only my important bits are covered—until we break to rehydrate and eat.

I’m leaning against the fence when I see Marc slip out of a door that isn’t his.

Is that? Yep, that’s Kary’s apartment. The manager.

And it all falls into place. Where I saw him coming from that one time. The parties, the loud music, how they get away with it all. How they’re getting away with this now.

I watch as he makes his way through the party, bumping fists with different people as he approaches.

“Neighbor girl,” he greets quietly, tapping Coty’s fist. “What did you think of your sign?”

My eyes shoot over to it before meeting his again. “You made that?”

“Fuck no. That shit’s all Beck. I supervised.”

“Which means he barked orders the entire time causing Beck to quit from the pressure, and I had to finish the damn thing myself,” Coty supplies, making the group laugh. This still doesn’t solve the mystery as to where the other half of the L went though.

“Well, thank you for helping make today so special for me.” I glance up to Kary’s place, letting him know that I know. What exactly I know, I don’t know, but I thought he should know all the same.

“No problem.” He nods, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “I’ve been dying for one of these for hours.” Coty frowns, glancing up at Kary’s, too. “Enjoy the party.” And with that he walks off into the throng of people, grabbing a girl to dance with on his way.

“What just happened?”

“I…don’t know.” He shakes his head, ditching our plates. “Should we take another shot?”

“One more, then I’m done. I don’t want to puke at my first party.”

“Bullshit.” His eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “This is your first party? Ever?”

I nudge a wad of grass clippings with my Adidas slide, avoiding his questioning stare.

“Shots!”

No further prompting required, Marc and Beckett leave their companions to meet us at the table. Marc pours the shots then the three roommates hold them out, so I follow suit.

“To Angela, congratulations, babe.”

We clink glasses, shooting them back.

Beckett pours another round, ignoring my protests, then lifts his, saying, “To more nights just like this.”

“Cheers!” we shout in unison, before I attempt to down the fiery drink. Most of it “spills” into the grass though.

And despite more groans, Marc dispenses a third round. I only quiet when he grows serious. Well, more serious.

“To family,” a scowl settles on my face before I can stop it, but Marc presses on, “the one that makes you, not the one that tries to break you.”

This one I do drink to, albeit much slower than my neighbors. It’s clear these guys not only treat each other like family, but genuinely believe it. I observe them in their natural element joking, laughing, watching each other’s backs out of pure instinct. It’s inspiring, yet fills me both awe and sorrow. Awe that three rebels looking for a place of their own found each other to lean on when they needed it most. Sorrow at never having found my own spot amongst a family, whether by blood or otherwise.

Coty collects all the glasses to set them aside. The others take turns kissing my cheeks before returning to the festivities. I go to follow but Coty yanks me back into his chest. Against my ear, he whispers, “Not so fast.”

Giggling, I see Coty’s hand appear in front of me holding a container of paint. He untwists the lid and dunks his fingers inside, then he does the unthinkable and smears it across my stomach.

I spin in his arms.

“You did not just do that?”

“What did you think this was for?” He laughs.

“I-” I hadn’t really thought about it actually, but now that I have, I dip my fingers in and swipe it on Coty’s face making two lines under his eye down to his neck.

Now it’s my turn to laugh except when the cool paste is spread down my arms in retaliation, we both fall into a bated silence. Without breaking eye contact, I scoop out more with both hands, covering his abs with embellished swirls, reaching the lines of his hip bones. When his chocolate eyes darken I get those, too, leaving no stone-hard muscles left unturned. I run my hands up to rest on his chest then make the climb to his neck and clenched jaw, the paint easily forgotten. I stand back with my stained hands on my hips, daring him to make the next move.

His hand snakes out and grabs my waist, dragging me back to his chest—that’s coated in a medley of colors. “Turn around,” he demands huskily.

I simply shake my head.

“Have I ever told you,” his hand comes up to rub my jaw, leaving a wet sensation behind, “that you look good in pink?” The hand he pulls away is covered in the color.

Damn him.

“Hmmm, I wonder if you do, too.” I rub my cheek against his, returning the favor.

Before I can pull away, he reaches up to turn my lips to his, placing a hot kiss there.

I win.

“Ooh, I think drunk Coty is my new favorite.”

“I missed you,” he whispers against my lips, eyes at half-mast. “I’m serious, I can’t sleep without you here.”

“I doubt that.”

“It’s true,” he insists. “I know how to fix that though.”

I quirk an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah? How’s that?”

“With you sleeping in my bed every night.” The shrug of his shoulder is flippant, his tone is not. Not getting the reaction he was hoping for, he changes tactics. “Fine, I’ll sleep in yours. If I’m with you, I’m good.”

“You’re drunk.” I shove him lightly. He doesn’t budge.

“So are you.”

“Maybe.” Definitely.

“Dance with me.”

“Without Me” by Halsey starts up, so we do just that. We dance with each other like we’ve been doing it for years. The familiarity is palpable. His body molds to mine while my body responds to his every move. Coty’s hands roam my dips and curves as the music pounds across the lawn. I grow bolder, teasing him right back. The cat and mouse game we have going intensifies with each song. Stealing kisses should be listed on Coty’s resume since he acts like it’s his job to keep his lips on mine. Toward the end of the night, I’m so close to exploding, I start to think maybe it is.

Somebody starts a fire in the designated pit so we take a break to fill up on the gooey goodness of s’mores. Coty has a mesmerizing habit of licking the melted marshmallow from escaping between the graham crackers before taking a bite and I take full advantage of the erotic show he’s unknowingly providing. Unfortunately, every other female at the party has noticed Coty’s oral ministration as well which has my nails digging into my thighs.

I stand to grab a handful of sparklers from the table—I’ll do anything to get away from these fiends and maybe the lit-up sticks will serve as a deterrent. The fact that I want to warn them away from Coty has me crawling back into my head. Shaking the tension in my shoulders away, I refocus on the one night I’ve allowed myself.

With Marc’s lighter, Coty steps close to light the ones clenched in my fist. As they catch, star-shaped sparks shoot out in all directions. They’re absolutely mesmerizing. So much so that I don’t even notice Coty trying to grab some for himself until his fingers loosen mine. I allow a few to be pulled from my stiff hold, then follow him closer to the pool area.

We keep to ourselves, drawing out different shapes and watching as the fire eats up the thin sticks. Each time one burns out completely, someone is there relighting more. After several moments of playing pyrotechnics, our eyes connect across the lawn, holding me hostage. Coty gives one of his signature winks, then draws out a heart with his last remaining sparkler causing my actual heart to stop, then pick back up going double, maybe triple, the rate it was seconds before. Hell, maybe it was never truly beating until that very moment. I can’t tell anymore because I’ll only ever remember this feeling. The sensation that Coty’s drawn-out fiery heart caused my very real beating heart to respond like life just started. Coty and his damn winking having ruined all normal heart activity, and he then has the audacity to come closer.

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.

“Coty,” I moan.

The rumble of his responding growl sends me crashing over the edge and happily taking flight. Riding the high all the way back to earth, Coty slips my leg off his shoulder and stands, holding my weight that even I can’t support. He strokes himself with his free hand, eager to go for two.

“Condom?”

His hand stills. “Shit. I don’t have one.” His eyes roam over my flushed body. “Want me to go get one? I can run next door.” He looks like that’s the last thing he wants to do.

I shake my head. “There’s some by my bed.”

An eyebrow cocks at that but I ignore it and its misogynistic undertone. He doesn’t have to explain having condoms and neither do I.

The water now cold, I lean over and turn the knob, shutting it off. I straighten, testing my shaky legs but Coty lifts me from the waist so I can wrap them around his, preventing me from falling and ruining the moment entirely. We both moan at the closeness, free of barriers. His head drops to my shoulder and pushes me into the wall, dragging his cock along my seam.

“Bed,” I rasp out while I still can.

Secure in his grasp, he walks us out to my bed and drops down to the mattress. Now straddling him, I quickly grab a condom from my nightstand and open the wrapper with my teeth. Coty’s hands caress my thighs as he watches through heavy lids, the pressure increasing once I place the condom on his tip. While he massages toward my already sensitive core, I roll the condom down his length and lean back to watch as his thumb circles my clit. Looking up, I find his eyes on mine.

“You like that?” I nod, biting my lip when his other hand joins the party. “Do you want-”

My lips crash onto his, silencing him. The answer to any question right now is yes. Only yes.

“I want you. Now,” I say, lifting up from his lap using his shoulders as support.

His hands stop teasing and find my waist to help line up my entrance with his straining cock. Our gazes connect again before I slowly lower onto him. Inch by delicious inch, I glide down until he’s fully sheathed, making us both groan.

“Fuck. You’re perfect.”

I’d disagree, stating that he’s the perfect one, but words—all of them—elude me at the moment, my only focus on how full my body is. How whole it feels now.

My forehead drops to his and we sit content, relishing the feel of each other for a moment. Digging my nails into his shoulders, I drag them down his chest, leaving angry streaks behind. If it’s possible, Coty grows harder beneath me. Our pants mingle in their own sultry dance, then Coty pulls me closer, rubbing my clit against his base. A loud, unfiltered moan rips from my mouth.

“Move for me.”

Wrapping my hands around the back of his neck, my nails find a new home in his hairline and I lift up ever so slightly before I roll forward and down at the same time to create the perfect amount of friction. I repeat the motion, feeling my climb toward orgasm spike again. Coty groans out his appreciation as I keep the steady pace of rolling eight motions. When his legs beneath mine start to shake, I speed up with a little help from Coty’s encouraging grip. He guides me even closer, hitting my clit with each rotation, but I falter when the friction becomes too much. Luckily, Coty takes over, using his hands to continue moving our bodies the way we both need. With the increased tempo, I lose sight of where he ends and I begin until we become one, joining together in perfect harmony.

“Coty.”

“I know. Almost there, babe.”

“Coty,” I warn.

“Now.”

And with one final thrust, we kiss our orgasm straight from the other’s bodies, then collapse on the bed together, completely spent.

One eye cracked, I see Coty wearing the same devilish smirk that held me captive from the beginning, and I think I finally understand what that feeling people call home is.