Free Shhh...Mack's Side by Jettie Woodruff Page B

Nobody’s afraid. We’re all happy,” I sang, dancing around like a ballerina. Only one person had ever tried to understand that. He got it. That someone was not Colton.
    Colton learned very quickly that if he wanted to play this game of Russian roulette with me, he needed to make sure I was safely locked away from people before my hyper sexuality peaked. It was still there. It just took him getting me away from all the beautiful, dancing lights, the adorable little girls, and the buildings, oh the magnificent architecture.
    “Wow… ” I said, tossing my head back as far as it would go. My building was so tall. I counted each window from the bottom up, making it to seven before Colton pulled me to the door. “Hi, Charles. I love this coat on you. It’s sooooo purple,” I said, running my hand down his vibrant, bright purple jacket. That was fake. I knew Charles wore the required hotel burgundy jacket with dark blue pants. His white hair didn’t really sparkle like that either.
    “Are you okay, Ms. McKenzie?” he frowned, asking concernedly if I was all right.
    “She’s a little drunk. I’ve got this,” Colton said, helping me insid e. Good call. That would help with the embarrassment when I saw him in a couple days.
    I continued my charade throughout the building. The elevator floated us over the city of little girls. They waved up to us as we left ear th. It was breathtaking. I waved back. Colton wanted nothing to do with this part of being a manic. He wanted the part where I was naked, where anything goes.
    Colton attacked me as soon as the door was closed. I felt sad, kissing him, like he didn’t really want me. He wanted my body. Unfortunately, the hyper sexuality was stronger than the sadness and won. Colton got his wish. I did things, things that would cause me to shake my head several times as I remembered what I had done.
    When I opened my eyes to darkness hours later, he was still there. In my bed. Oh, hell no.
    “You can go. I’m fine,” I said, rolling over. I pulled the sheet over my bare breasts when I realized I was naked. I knew he’d just seen me in the most exposed positions I could muster, and here I was hiding myself from him.
    “What if I don’t want to go? I cooked for us. You should eat something.”
    “You cooked?”
    “Yes, d ear. I cooked. Come on. It’s ready.”
    Dear? What the hell? When did we advance to that? I know I was staring at him strangely, but I felt strange. I couldn’t help it. “What time is it?”
    “Almost nine.”
    “Is it Sunday?”
    “Yes. You’ve been out for about nineteen hours.”
    “Oh,” I responded, feeling confused. “I’ll be out in a few minutes. I want to shower.”
    Colton took my hand, bent to my level , and kissed the corner of my lips. I didn’t kiss him back. I waited for him to leave and then made my way to my bathroom, wrapped in the sheet. The first thing I noticed was the soreness between my legs. I’d remember it all, every last second of it. It would come back in fragments; flashes of erotic scenes would flood my mind over the next few days. I’d masturbate every day for a while, until I recollected every single thing we had done.
    I looked like hell, like I’d been having sex for hours and hours. Oh wait. I did. The hot bath reminded me of that quickly. Jesus, what the hell did we do?
    I tried to get Colton to leave again once I had a washed off all evidence of sex, had a fresh mouth, and clean hair. He wouldn’t go. He wanted to talk. Ugh.
    “Tell me about Mr. Nichols,” he approached, dipping mash potatoes on my plate.
    “Mr. Nichols?” I questioned. Looking down to the hamburger patty, buttery potatoes, and green beans, my stomach growled. Colton laughed, smiling at me with… Oh, god. Love. NO! When did this happen?
    “You told me about him last night. Was he the one that did this to you?”
    “Did what?” I asked defensively. I took a bite of the hamburger covered in gravy, savoring it before things got out