By the time they got back to the house, Chase was strung taut as a cable. He was pissed off that someone would dare blackmail Becca, frustrated that she wouldn’t open up to him or let him help. And he was also riding on the knife’s edge of the most powerful desire he’d ever felt.
That kiss had rocked him, had seemed to affect her just as much, yet on the drive home she’d seemed to shut down and he’d felt her withdrawing. It made him crazy, to have her alone and this close, and feel her retreating again. She’d been so quiet. Was still quiet, when he wanted the opposite.
“Want anything to eat?” he asked, trying to keep things light as they stepped into the kitchen. She was dealing with a lot. He needed to be patient.
“No, not really hungry anymore.”
He couldn’t tell if she meant just for food, or if that was a blanket statement telling him hands off, but her body language and the way she stood across the room told him it was definitely the latter.
He took a seat at the kitchen table and studied her. This was uncharted territory for him. He couldn’t read her, wasn’t sure whether she was waiting for him to make a move this time.
“Will you talk to me now?” he asked, fighting the frustration that kept bubbling up. It was just the two of them here. There was no one to overhear, and he wanted to help, wanted to know exactly where they stood instead of him being confused all the time.
She averted her gaze, and his heart sank. “I’m tired. Think I’ll go upstairs and lie down for a bit.”
More likely she had to call her bank or financial advisor and get another payment together. “So you’re just going to keep paying him whenever he asks?”
Her eyes snapped to his, annoyance burning bright. “I don’t have a choice.”
With that, she turned and hurried past him up the stairs, leaving him annoyed and tied in knots.
Every instinct he had demanded that he march up there right now and make her tell him the entire story. To tear down the wall she kept putting between them.
He let out a frustrated growl and dragged a hand over his face, ordering himself to calm down. This was his biggest flaw—that incessant need to rush to the rescue that he couldn’t seem to turn off no matter how hard he tried, and with Becca it was ten times stronger than ever before.
The losses he’d experienced early on had left him hyper vigilant and protective of the people closest to him. The need to save them or spare them pain just part of his makeup.
Chase dragged in a calming breath and rolled his head from side to side. He couldn’t force her to talk to him if she didn’t want to. But he would go nuts sitting around waiting for her to come back downstairs.
He changed and did a punishing workout with the equipment in the garage instead, didn’t stop until his muscles were weak and he was dripping with sweat. The workout had helped his frustration levels a little, but not much. And it definitely hadn’t done anything to take the edge off his sexual frustration.
Tired as he was, the instant he thought of Becca and that kiss earlier, he got hard, leaving him erect and aching. And the only woman he wanted to touch him was hiding in the room next to his upstairs.
He took a long, cold shower. It didn’t help.
Stepping out of the en suite bathroom, he started to grab a fresh change of clothes from the closet, then stopped, glancing down at himself. This hard-on wasn’t going away by itself, and though he’d much rather have Becca take care of it, his own hand would have to do once again.
Yanking back the covers, he grabbed a bottle of lube from the bedside drawer, and stretched out on his back, his entire body pulsing with pent-up need. He imagined Becca’s hands moving over his naked skin instead of his own, one of them sliding down his belly to grasp him.
He closed his eyes, suppressing a low groan as he imagined her stroking him, her lips moving over his chest, down his belly, her tongue teasing—
A soft tap on the door startled him.
“Yeah?” He tugged the covers up to his chest and was just reaching over to hide the bottle of lube when the door opened a bit and Becca peeped her head in.
She froze when she saw him lying there in bed, shirtless, the covers around his ribs and the globe and anchor tat on his chest on full display. He hoped she couldn’t see the bottle in his hand. “Hi,” she murmured, looking uncertain. “Can I come in?”
Now? “Uh, yeah. Sure,” he said, shifting the thigh closest to her to block the outline of his erection. Maybe she’d thought about what he’d said earlier and had come to talk to him about what was going on.
She shut the door behind her, stood there for a few seconds as if unsure what to do next. That unexpected glimpse of shyness was endearing and also lit up that protective part of him. She was beautiful and famous. He’d just assumed she’d been with lots of guys, but her reaction now and all the other pieces he was staring to put together made him think he’d been dead wrong about that.
Erection successfully hidden, he found his voice. “If you want to talk, I’ll get dressed and come downstairs,” he offered.
“No, it’s fine.” Her stare roved over the bare expanse of his torso, and maybe it was just wishful thinking, but it seemed to him that she liked what she saw. There was a definite hot gleam in her eyes when she met his gaze.
He tensed, his dick throbbing twice as hard. She knew he was naked under here.
This was killing him. Every instinct he had screamed at him to get up and give her an eyeful while he prowled toward her, then pick her up, lay her down on the bed and cover her with his body. Letting her feel every inch of what she did to him while he watched those big, golden-brown eyes.
She released a breath, looking more absorbed than hesitant now. “The truth is, I want you.”
The breath rushed out of him like someone had punched him in the gut, his muscles grabbing.
“But I’m not ready to… Would it be okay if we take things slow?”
It took a long moment for the words to penetrate the fog of lust filling his brain.
Slow. How slow? They’d already slept together. “Yeah, of course,” he answered, willing to give her however much she wanted of him. But holy shit, she’d just said she wanted him. It was all he could focus on.
Her gaze trailed over his shoulders and chest, stopping where he gripped the covers in his fist, and this time there was no mistaking the longing on her face. Going on instinct, he released the blankets and lowered his thigh, dragging the fabric lower over his belly.
Her eyes ate up every inch he uncovered, over the rigid muscles of his belly, to the unmistakable outline of the erection he couldn’t hide pressing hopefully against the thin layers of fabric covering him. Hunger roared through him, making his pulse trip.
Before he could guess what she would do next, she slowly crossed toward him, her steps almost silent on the carpet. Chase stayed absolutely still, his heart thudding in his throat.
She perched on the side of the bed, her hip touching his knee, and held his gaze. He curled his fingers into the bedding to keep from reaching for her.
Touch me, Bec.
With a tiny smile she leaned forward to brush her lips over his. Teasing. Suffusing him with a powerful mix of tenderness and need that left him reeling.
In answer, he threaded his hands into her hair and took control of the kiss. Slanting his lips across hers, his tongue caressing even as he kept the urgent need inside him locked down while showing her how much he wanted her.
Her soft whimper made fire burn low in his gut. He stroked, sucked, seduced.
“Chase,” she whispered against his lips.
“Hmm?” He sucked on her lower one, delved his tongue inside to touch hers. Teasing. Wanting her as hot for him as he was for her.
She eased her head back, staring into his eyes. “Will you do something for me?”
“I’d do damn near anything for you.” His voice was deep, dark. More guttural than he’d ever heard it. But then, he’d never felt like this before.
She sucked in a breath, her tongue darting over her lips. God, the way her eyes glowed, pure lust blazing there. “Will you stroke yourself for me?”
His entire body reacted, every muscle tightening.
He stared at her for several heartbeats, wondering if he’d lost his mind and was just hearing things. But nope, she really wanted this. And oh, fuck, he did too.
“All right, sweetness,” he whispered. She wanted a show? He’d give her one she’d never forget.
BECCA HELD HER breath, her pulse rattling in her ears, hardly able to believe she’d found the guts to ask him for this.
Over the past hour she’d gone back and forth about coming to his room, about whether to tell him what he wanted to know. Or whether she should just get over herself and the stupid baggage that kept holding her back and actually take what she wanted—Chase. Because they’d both already waited long enough.
But when she’d opened the door to find him naked and obviously aroused in spite of his attempts to hide it, all thoughts of talking had evaporated. This was so much better than talking. She was already hot and bothered at the thought of watching him get himself off.
The look on his face sent heat pooling low in her belly. Holding her gaze, Chase stretched out against the pillows behind him, the covers down around his hips now, and the obvious ridge of his erection tenting them.
She watched, breathless, as he lifted one big hand and laid it on the center of his chest, long fingers spread over his bare skin. Slowly, oh, so slowly it made her mouth go dry, he stroked his palm over the ridge of his right pec.
Heat flooded her core, and her nipples tightened into hard little points along with his. She could feel him watching her, but she couldn’t tear her eyes off that hand, wishing it was hers instead, exploring that incredible body.
He stroked over his other pec, over that pretty globe and anchor ink, the motion languid, sensual, and hot as freaking hell. She swallowed as that sexy hand slowly eased down the midline of his torso, pausing to trace the defined ridges of his abs, before his fingertips followed the thin line of hair that bisected them and disappeared beneath the covers.
She bit back a groan when he eased the bedding down to fist himself through the fabric, his hips lifting. A soft hiss made her look up into his face, and her heart stuttered. He was staring at her, his eyes heavy-lidded with arousal, a slight flush on his cheekbones and his white, even teeth sunk into his lower lip.
Oh, God…
It took everything she had not to crawl on top of him and gobble him up right then and there. Yank those offending layers of fabric out of the way to stroke his bare flesh. But it was so damn hot to watch him, not to mention incredibly intimate. She didn’t want it to end.
“More?” he said, his voice a low, aroused rumble than made her nipples throb.
She nodded, her eyes shooting back to the hand gripping his erection. He let go, reached for something beside him with his other hand, then slowly eased the covers down. Down, down, revealing the widening of his treasure trail. Her core pulsed in anticipation, already wet, her clit aching.
The covers slid lower, finally exposing the thick, flushed head of his erection. Becca clenched her hands on her thighs to keep from reaching for it. And the sound he made when his long fingers closed around the thick shaft made it suddenly hard to breathe. A low, almost inaudible groan of pleasure that seemed to vibrate in the air between them.
He pushed the covers aside with his free hand and kept stroking himself with the other. Three, four mind-melting, slow and sensual strokes before stopping.
Becca dragged in a breath while he reached for the bottle he’d found and poured some lube in his palm. And when he fisted himself this time, squeezing, the muscles in his belly and thighs standing out, she felt hot all over.
Lord, he was beautiful like this, his big hand moving nice and slow up and down the shaft, his rigid flesh all slick and shiny. The thick head flushed and swollen.
“Stop,” she whispered shakily, unable to take it a moment longer.
His hand stopped, still closed around the plump head, his eyes flying open to lock with hers. Breathing faster, Becca licked her lips and shifted closer. “I want to take over.”
He groaned and released himself, his hands balling into fists at his hips and that molten gaze locked with hers. His jaw was taut, his chest rising and falling with each erratic breath.
Tingling all over, half-drunk on the power she held over him, she settled her palms on his thighs. His quads bunched beneath her hands as she squeezed, then skimmed upward, slowly, past the glistening shaft between, up and over the incredible landscape of his abs and pecs.
She savored every inch of him, enjoying every contour and hollow she hadn’t been able to explore properly before. Then she paused to cover and squeeze his pecs as she leaned forward to capture his mouth with hers.
Chase plunged a hand into the back of her hair, his other locking around her shoulders, holding tight as he opened for her, his tongue twining with hers. Hungry. So damn sensual it made her shiver.
He kissed her slow and deep, like he’d been starving for her. Like he never wanted to stop. Becca licked and nibbled, sucked and teased while her hands skimmed back down the way they’d come, her fingertips grazing each sensitive spot that made him twitch and shudder.
She broke the kiss just long enough to look down between his legs an instant before closing her fingers around his hard length. He sucked in a breath, his body going rigid as a low, desperate sound came from deep in his chest.
Her core clenched, imagining sliding down onto his cock. He was hot in her palm, slick and hard and shiny. She stroked him firm and slow, drawing it out, pausing on the upstroke to swirl her palm against the crown of his cock.
His hips surged, pushing him harder into her hand. “God, Becca,” he groaned.
So incredibly hot.
She kept going, watching his face. Long, languid strokes that made him moan and shudder, building the heat, flooding her with a heady wave of power and arousal.
“You feel so good,” she whispered, her voice unsteady.
He made a rough sound and dragged his fingers through her hair, his expression taut, eyes blazing. “Harder. Make me come,” he rasped out. A demand edged with a plea.
Her core clenched again at the raw need in his voice, in his eyes. She bent to capture his mouth once more and resumed stroking. Slower. Making him work for it. Prolonging the moment until he reached his breaking point.
Having him at her mercy this way was the hottest thing she’d ever experienced. To feel him gripping her hair tight, his body tensing, fighting the need to take over, poised on the brink of release.
Two seconds later, he hissed in a breath, seemed to swell in her grip. “Ohh, Bec,” he groaned, then arched, eyes squeezed shut, the beautiful ecstasy on his face transfixing her. He started to come, the sexy sounds he made filling the room as he spurted across his chest and stomach.
Dragging in a ragged breath, he sagged back against the pillows, his gorgeous hazel eyes opening to fix on hers. Hungry for more, she crawled up to lean over him and kiss him languidly, relishing this new intimate connection they’d forged.
“Your turn,” he whispered, reaching for her shoulders.
She shook her head slightly and kept kissing him, enjoying this too much to stop, even if she was swollen and slick with need.
“I want to make you come,” he murmured against her lips. “But I’ll settle for watching you get yourself off instead.”
She chuckled at the teasing note in his voice and sat up.
He eyed her, frowning a bit. “So that’s a no?”
“Another time.” She was too shy to get herself off in front of him right here and now, and couldn’t think how to put into words what was holding her back from allowing him to return the favor.
She didn’t want the pressure of feeling like she needed to perform. Didn’t want to be vulnerable or risk her heart any more than she already was. And…if she allowed him to touch her now, he’d want to take things farther later. And she wasn’t sure how much she could give him.
After one last lingering kiss, she sat up to stroke his hair, his face. She could see the confusion in his eyes. The frustration at her unwillingness to give herself to him. “I’m going downstairs to make us a snack. What do you feel like eating?”
His gaze glowed with unmistakable heat. “You.”
She blushed and brushed it off with a laugh, even as a fresh wave of arousal slid through her at the thought of his tongue between her legs. “Meet me downstairs when you’re ready.”
Closing his door behind her, she paused to pull in a deep breath, her whole body suffused with a need she was still too hesitant to let him satisfy.