Chase jolted slightly in surprise. Becca moved in closer, plastering herself to the front of him, her heart thudding hard against her ribs as she kissed him with every bit of desperation inside her.
This was what she’d come for. For Chase.
She’d been thinking about him all day. Working through the scenes they’d shot together. It had triggered her darkest memories, but she also remembered other things.
The way he’d protected the back of her head when he’d taken her to the floor. Cushioning the impact. His hands grabbing her, strong yet careful. Never hurting. Protecting.
And when they’d finished that final take, he’d been right there to gather her up and hold her, cracking her wounded heart wide open without realizing it.
She craved something that would erase the ache inside her that had grown into a searing fire with every passing hour.
He was the best thing that had happened to her in forever. The movie was done, and they were about to go their separate ways. They may not ever see each other again after tonight. After the emotional toll of the filming, she wanted this one night with him.
One night to seek comfort and solace for something he didn’t understand. One night to replace the fears and traumatic memories with something beautiful. She saw the way he looked at her, knew he wanted her even if he’d never make a move.
Chase sucked in a breath and took her head in his hands, then stilled for an instant and immediately eased his grip.
No. She didn’t want him to stop. Didn’t want him to question this.
She pushed up onto her toes and kissed him harder, desperate for him to take what she was offering. To not think or get caught up in his head.
She eased her tongue into his mouth, the taste of alcohol still evident, but she didn’t care. She needed this. Needed him.
With a deep groan he took over, wrapping one muscular arm around her waist, his tongue tangling with hers as he walked her backward toward the nearest wall. Her back met the cool surface, then more than six feet of hungry, powerful male pinned her there. She gasped at the unmistakable feel of his erection pressed tight to her belly.
Arousal swelled, threatening to take over. She fought it off, wanting to stay clear-headed and on task. Soaking up every bit of comfort she could get from him, some subconscious part of her afraid to surrender control, even to him.
Winding her arms around his neck, she hooked a leg around his lower back and rocked her hips to spur him on. He groaned and rubbed against her, and in spite of herself her nipples beaded tight and her core throbbed.
The kiss turned frantic, matching the desperation beating at her. She wanted to hold him inside her, hold him as close as she could and have him wrapped completely around her. Taking away the emptiness, the chill that wouldn’t go away.
Chase tore his mouth away to look down at her, his hazel eyes molten with desire, his chest rising and falling with rapid, shallow breaths. “Are you sure—”
“Yes.” She grabbed the back of his head and fused their mouths together again.
He let out a low, primal growl that sent a shiver through her, fisted one hand in her hair and locked his free arm around her, hoisting her off her feet. She clung to him as he walked them through the kitchen into a bedroom. The comparative darkness was a blessing, mostly hiding her, allowing her to escape.
As he set her down on the bed, she grabbed the bottom of his shirt and shoved it upward. She wanted him naked, to feel him plastered all over her, to not have to hide her attraction to him anymore.
He peeled it off for her even as she reached down to unfasten his jeans. He stripped them down his legs and crawled over her, pushing her backward, his hands going to her top. In seconds he had her naked, and a moment of vulnerability hit her.
She took the condom packet from her sweater pocket, then reached for him, drawing him down on top of her. This time it was her who groaned. He felt so good. Solid and warm, skin smooth except for the bit of chest hair abrading her taut nipples.
Chase’s hungry mouth was at her jaw, then her neck, his hands holding her in place while he licked and sucked and made it almost impossible to stay coherent. Then he cupped her breasts, cradling them almost reverently, and rubbed his face against them.
She closed her eyes. Allowed herself a few moments to feel what it could be like with him if she let herself go as his warm mouth sucked her slowly.
Need punched through her, swirling low in her belly and clenching her core. She blocked it, focused on the emotional need clawing at her instead, the need to feel him all over and have him take away this aching emptiness inside her.
She wasn’t here to get off—she was too keyed up emotionally to allow her body to relax and enjoy it anyway, and they were going too fast for that. Thankfully Chase didn’t realize that.
His hands closed around the sides of her ribcage as he released her aching nipples and began moving downward, clearly wanting to move between her thighs. She grabbed his shoulders to stop him, dragged his mouth back to hers and twisted to roll them over.
He went willingly, his hands gripping her hips. There was just enough light coming through the open door for her to see his face. The lust glittering in his eyes.
Bending over him, she kissed him again, tongue gliding along his while she reached down to grasp his thick length in her hand. He sucked in a breath, his hips lifting. Becca drew her head back to watch him, watch the pleasure make his jaw flex and weigh his eyelids down.
“Becca. Let me touch you,” he rasped out.
She ignored him, ripped the packet open and smoothed the condom down his thick length. His hands closed around her hips, fingers flexing restlessly as she shimmied into position, holding him up so she could sink down on him.
A low, throttled sound came out of his throat. His head tipped back into the pillow, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy.
Becca planted her hands on his chest and rode him nice and slow, emotion clogging her throat and making her eyes burn. A pang of bittersweet regret hit her, a wish that this could be more than it was. Holding him inside her while retaining control—over her body and his, even though it was just an illusion.
“Ride me,” he rasped out, reaching up to cradle her breasts, his fingers squeezing her nipples. “Ride me hard.”
She did, bending down to seal their mouths together, wanting to make him crazy. Chase’s hands tightened around her hips. She rode him faster, making little sounds that seemed to drive him wild.
A few moments later he pulled his mouth free, his expression somewhere between agony and ecstasy. “I’m close. I want you to—”
She moaned like she was on the edge, and he gave an approving growl, playing with her nipples while he stared up at her through heavy-lidded eyes. She clenched around him, threw back her head and pretended to come, part of her feeling guilty for faking this, wishing she’d been brave enough to actually let herself go with him.
He made another deep, sexy sound, dropped one hand to her hip to squeeze, and thrust upward. Over and over, holding her just where he wanted her, then he went rigid, the look on his face and the sounds of his pleasure filling her with a tender awe.
Shuddering, he groaned and sank back against the sheets, breathing hard, his eyes opening slowly. “Bec,” he whispered, reaching up to cradle her face in his palm.
Her heart turned over. She eased off him and blanketed him with her body, tucking her face into his neck. Closing her eyes and breathing in his scent. Memorizing this moment. The feel of him, knowing he genuinely liked and cared about her.
Chase held her like that for a few minutes, his hand gliding slowly up and down her back. Large and strong, yet so careful with her. Then he rolled them onto their sides and drew her in close, enveloping her with his body.
“Stay the night,” he mumbled against the top of her head.
She nodded, hating that she’d lied, but not ready to leave just yet. This was too perfect. Exactly what she’d been craving. The sense of safety and security only he could offer.
Chase sighed and relaxed against her. As the minutes slipped past his breathing deepened. His muscled twitched. Then he started snoring softly.
Wide awake, Becca stayed exactly like that until she was certain he was fast asleep. Finally, she forced herself to ease out of his embrace, moving bit by bit so she didn’t wake him, and praying the alcohol kept him under. She couldn’t bear an awkward conversation right now.
Standing next to the bed fully dressed moments later, she allowed herself to drink in the sight of him for a minute longer. And even though her throat and chest were aching, even though she wanted so badly to crawl back into his arms and stay there all night and pretend what they’d shared was real, she couldn’t.
“Bye, Chase,” she whispered, and left as soundlessly as she could.
****
Chase’s head shot off the pillow, his eyes flying open at the pounding on his front door. Or maybe that was from the headache throbbing at the back of his skull.
“Yo, Davenport. You still alive or what?” Ryder called out.
He sat up, blinking in confusion in the morning sunlight coming through the tiny gap around the edge of the blinds next to the bed. The bedside clock read seven-thirty.
Holy shit, how much had he had to drink last night? His head hurt. He was thirsty, his mouth dry as he swung his legs over the side of the bed—
A used condom fell on the floor.
Chase froze, then whipped around and stared at the empty bed behind him.
Becca. She’d come to him. They’d had sex.
Shit, it had all happened so fast, he couldn’t remember exactly what had happened. He’d had her pinned up against the wall at one point, their hands all over each other, and he remembered her riding him to the finish, her breasts bouncing with each sinuous movement of her hips.
Now she was gone. What the hell had happened?
More pounding on the door. “Chase! Answer me, or I’ll bust down this door!”
“Yeah, coming,” he called, grabbed the condom and threw it in the trashcan before yanking his jeans on and rushing out of his room.
The bathroom door was open, the lights off. The kitchen and living room were empty. He didn’t see a note anywhere.
His gut dropped. She’d ghosted on him. Why? Had he done something wrong? Been too rough, maybe? He frantically tried to remember what she’d said. What he’d said. Where she might have gone.
Dragging a hand through his hair, he went to the door and opened it. Ryder strode in, frowning at him. “What the hell, why didn’t you—” He stopped and inhaled deeply, staring at him. Then his eyes widened. “Whoa, sorry. Didn’t realize you weren’t alone,” he said, taking a step back and reaching behind him for the doorknob.
“I’m alone.”
Ryder dropped his hand, studying him. “From that look on your face, I’m guessing you’re not too happy about that.”
“No.”
His friend nodded slowly, his expression curious. “Who was it?”
“None of your damn business,” he snapped.
Ryder held up his hands in self-defense. “Whoa, okay. Jeez. Just came over to take my hungover friend for bacon and eggs, that’s all.”
Chase sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He was being a dick, and there was no point in sitting around here sulking. Becca was gone, and he had a sinking feeling she wasn’t coming back. What the hell? They were good together. He’d been sure they were working up to something a lot more meaningful than a one-night stand.
“Yeah. Gimme ten minutes.” He stalked off to the bathroom to shower, his mind churning.
He vaguely remembered asking her to stay. Hadn’t he? Yeah, he was pretty sure. Thinking he would have all sorts of time today when he was actually sober to show her how good things could be between them.
Shit, he wished he’d been sober last night. Wished he knew what the fuck to do now.
Ryder kept giving him curious glances on the way to the local diner and while they ate, but thankfully kept his mouth shut. Chase checked his phone for what felt like the hundredth time. There was still no word from Becca.
Her silence was driving him insane.
“Back in a minute,” he said, pushing his plate aside before sliding out of the booth and walking outside.
He’d resolved to give her space, but something told him he’d better not wait. If something was wrong, if he’d screwed up somehow last night, he wanted to know so he could fix it.
He called her, but her phone went straight to voicemail. “Becca, hey, it’s Chase.” He paused, wondering what to say. Why was this so damn awkward? “I’m just…calling to make sure everything’s okay. Call me back when you get this, ‘kay?” He hung up, already knowing she wouldn’t. Dammit.
What now? It was after ten on a business day. Maybe someone from the crew had seen or heard from her. As long as he knew she was all right, he would feel better. Sort of.
Yeah, not really.
He called a crew member to check, but no one there had heard from Becca since the shoot yesterday. “Fuck,” he muttered, feeling almost frantic with the need to hear from her.
In desperation he dialed her assistant. “Hi, this is Chase Davenport. I’m wondering if you’ve heard from Becca or might know where she is. She was upset after the shoot yesterday, and—”
“Hi, Chase,” the woman said brightly, as if she recognized his name. “I can’t say where she is, but I’ll take a message for you and pass it on if you like.”
Disappointment hit him hard. But he understood her assistant was just protecting her. “Okay, just tell her I called, and that she can reach me on my cell anytime.”
“Will do. Have a good day.”
Not likely. “Yeah, you too.” He lowered the phone just as Ryder stepped out of the diner.
“Can’t find her?”
He shook his head, his breakfast sitting like a hard lump in his stomach.
“Was it Becca?”
Chase looked away and didn’t answer, but it was answer enough, because Ryder knew him every bit as well as his siblings did.
He grasped Chase’s shoulder and squeezed. The show of pity made Chase feel even worse. “Sorry, man. I’m sure she’ll call you later.”
No, she wouldn’t. Something told him he would never hear from her again unless their paths crossed on another film set at some point in the future.