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Chase’s labored breath gusted against my ear. At the same time, he applied gentle pressure to my hips, and I focused my eyes enough to see that he’d maneuvered us across the dance floor and near the kitchen.
My body screamed to make the fantasy he described a reality, and I nodded in silent assent. Chase grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to the kitchen. A moment later my Grandma Marie passed in front of us, and I prayed she wouldn’t stop to talk. Luckily, she kept moving and Chase and I were able to make our escape.
Chase shoved open the kitchen door, pulling me in behind him. The latch gave a quiet snick as it closed behind us quickly followed by bright fluorescent lights flickering on. The light was jarring after the intimacy and softer lighting of the dance floor, and I blinked as my eyes adjusted. Chase flipped the lock behind us, and the bolt hitting home caused a shiver to race down my spine at the risk we were taking. My family was outside, oblivious to the heat Chase and I were generating in the kitchen. He’d been patient with my family, with me, all day. This headlong rush into desire triggered by his words on the dance floor had my pulse tripping. My feelings for Chase had only intensified with every moment together. Whether he considered this moment a friendly hookup or something more, being with him was worth the risk.
The stainless appliances and counters gleamed under the lights. A large walk-in fridge dominated one wall, and Chase pulled me gently toward it. Leaning his big body back against the silver door, he gathered me closer, his hands caressing the sides of my breasts down to my hips, sending a fresh ache of desire arrowing through me. With a quick tug, he pulled my hips to his. Evidence of his desire rubbed against the cradle of my thighs, and I leaned into him until and placed my lips against his.
Our first kiss was gentle, belying the rough burn that begged for more. Chase sipped at my lips, then nipped at my bottom lip with his teeth. The scrape of that brief contact had me aching to feel that pleasure-pain along every delicate inch of skin.
The sweet pull of his lips against mine, and the occasional chafe of his stubble against my neck turned my posture to putty. I could feel my body liquefying under the assault, but leaned into my own exploration. I lost track of the moments as we kissed, until Chase seemed to realize that he’d gone off script. He pushed me gently away from him.
“Now, where were we? Oh. The dress.” The deep rumble of his voice made my knees weak. Just as he had so deliciously suggested, Chase tugged the sleeve from my right arm and set his lips to my neck. I shivered under the onslaught of sensation. The fine hairs of his stubble rasped along my skin.
Chase continued with the other side of my dress, until my arms were caged by fabric to my sides. He gave me a quick, possessive kiss before maneuvering me as he’d described, my forehead pressed against the cool steel, and my hips in his firm hands as he grabbed me from behind.
He placed tiny kisses at the nape of my neck, slowly lowering my zipper and kissing the exposed skin. My knees trembled. I wouldn’t be able to stand up for much longer. Chase ad-libbed by scraping his teeth along the edge of my shoulder blade, and I whimpered softly.
“Are you as wet as I thought you’d be, Tamra? Why don’t you check?” he invited.
My arms were still restrained at my sides, and I shook my head. “I can’t. You’ll have to do it for me,” I husked. I sighed as I felt his hands start creeping from my hip bones, around to the juncture of my thighs.
“Tamra, I can feel your heat through the skirt of your dress,” Chase breathed. Then his hands caressed down to the hem of my dress, rucking it up my legs until he could run his fingers over the gusset of the scrap of silk between my thighs. “Soaking,” he groaned as he started kissing from the back of my ear down my neck again. I couldn’t contain my shiver of desire, and I didn’t want to. My hormones were screaming for a good time, and like a ride at Disneyland, Chase promised to deliver a thrill.
Chase ran his hands down my spread legs to the ankles, grasping them firmly. Then he stroked back up my legs slowly, tortuously. I couldn’t help trying to grind my hips back against his shoulder where he was bent over me.
I was steeped in the fantasy, managing to ignore the glaring lights and movement outside the door. The potential for discovery lingered in the back of my mind, right up until Chase tried to rip my panties from my body at the seams.
“Oww!”
I couldn’t help my outburst. I’m not sure where book heroines buy their undies, but I liked a well-made pair. Mine were not intended for seduction and playful destruction; they were silky but sturdy as shit. Normally, I’d guard them with my life. Good underwear was hard to find.
The moment was broken for me, but Chase seemed oblivious at first, attempting the ripping motion again, like a magician trying to pull a tablecloth off beneath the dishes.
“Stop.”
“Shit, sorry,” he said. “I thought if I tried a different angle that would work better.”
I shuddered, my body cooling. “Let me clear that up for you: NO. There’s NO angle that makes that work better.”
At that moment there was a loud knock at the door, and I pushed frantically at Chase as I turned around. Chase’s eyes widened at the interruption.
“Is there someone in there? I thought I heard shouting,” a deep, male voice asked from the other side of the kitchen door.
The knocking didn’t stop. If anything, it became more insistent, and I barely held back a groan. To step outside with a blush and stammer, or hide until they went away?
I quickly worked to put myself back to rights, smoothing my skirt down.
Chase rubbed the back of his neck, looking at me miserably. “Sorry,” he mouthed silently.
I hoped like hell that the person outside didn’t have a key. There was a brief murmur outside and the unmistakable scrape of a key in the lock. Fuck. My motions turned frantic as I pushed the sleeves of my dress back into place and Chase’s hands fluttered along my arms as he tried to help.
Chase was still fully dressed, if mussed. I had both sleeves back up over my shoulders but my dress was still gaping and unzipped in the back as the door to the kitchen opened. I did my best to hide my discomfort with a fake smile as I glanced at the interlopers. My smile slipped. It was my sister Jennifer and one of the venue managers. Double fuck.
Chase cleared his throat and gave Jennifer a quick smile before making things worse.
“Nothing to see here, just a little light debauching. We’re fine, but thanks for checking.”
Where were one of his stupid lies when we needed one? The truth would never work with my prim sister.
Jennifer frowned severely. “Really, Tamra? You couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to make it home? Our grandmother is out there,” she hissed.
The clear derision in her tone sparked my temper. “Really, Jennifer?” I mimicked her tone. “Pretty damn sure our grandmother has had sex at least a few times. She had six fucking children.” I realized how that sounded a few beats too late. “I didn’t mean six children fucking. That’s disgusting. I meant that she clearly figured shit out if she had six children.”
Jennifer shook her head at me. “You look like hell. Why don’t you leave by the side door, like all the other trash?”
The pure vitriol in her statement caught me by surprise. I wasn’t Jennifer’s favorite, but her response seemed harsh for kitchen kissing. My kiss-swollen lips opened and closed, my mouth dry.
“Jennifer, right?” Chase asked. “I understand that emotions are high since this is a wedding and all, but that’s no way to speak to your sister. We didn’t do anything wrong.”
Jennifer gave him a pitying look and stormed away, and the venue manager did his best to blend into the background, ushering us out of the room.
“Yeah, I’ve got to lock this up now, sorry,” the older man said uncomfortably, refusing to make eye contact.
I shook with a cocktail of embarrassment and the remnants of frustrated desire. Chase grasped my hand and started to escort me back to our table. As if he experienced kitchen interruptus every day. Maybe he did. I pulled back, resisting, and he turned to me in concern. “You don’t want to rejoin the wedding?” he asked. “Would you rather go home?”
The adrenaline was wearing off and weariness took over. I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t pretend like nothing had happened. Not with Chase, not with Jennifer. We’d never been close, but I hadn’t expected the acid in her attack. I was her grown sister, not her child. My actions didn’t reflect on her. I shivered and looked up into Chase’s handsome face. My panties were still damp, and he acted like he got chased out of kitchens all the time. No big deal. I wasn’t that good an actor.
I shook my head. “I can’t stay here. Can you go get my purse, and we can leave by the side door as Jennifer so kindly suggested? I don’t think the bride and groom will notice we’ve left, and I’ll text Vanessa and my parents.”
Chase paused, his eyes shadowed in what looked like concern, then nodded. “Sure. I’ll be back in a sec, I’ll meet you at the door,” he said, gesturing to the side entrance.
I moved slowly toward the exit, wading through the molasses of my emotions with every step. The evening had been a lot to process, and I felt about two hundred frames behind my current reality. It was a mix of incredible highs and lows. High: watching my little brother marry someone who I thought would make a good partner for him. Low: getting grilled by my parents as Chase embellished our relationship. High: Sexytimes in the kitchen with Chase. Also, low: Sexytimes in the kitchen interrupted by my bitchy sister.
Chase returned and laid his jacket over my shoulders, pulling me to his side. “I’m sorry about the way tonight turned out. It wasn’t quite the ending I had in mind. Do you want to go back to your place together?”
I couldn’t get Jennifer’s comment out of my head. I shook my head. “No. I want to be alone tonight. My mood’s more than broken.” I saw his face fall, but couldn’t muster the energy to do anything about it, I was too caught up in my own family drama. Jennifer’s temper had caught me by surprise. Her usual mode was to ignore me.
Chase cleared his throat. “Sure. I understand.”
We drove back to my townhome in silence. Chase got out to walk me to my door, but I waved him off. “No need. I’m a big girl.” I looked briefly into his eyes, searching for mine in the gloom. “Thanks again for coming with me tonight,” I said softly. I tried to inject more enthusiasm into my tone. “I appreciate it.” It wasn’t Chase’s fault things had gone horribly wrong. Or at least, not totally. I could have suggested going to my place and avoided getting caught, but the thrill of living out my own romance-novel worthy seduction had overwhelmed my good sense.
“Maybe we can do it again sometime?” he asked.
I shuddered. I’d be avoiding family gatherings for the foreseeable future. “Fuck, no. I hope not,” I muttered as I made my way up the path to my door. I made a beeline for my bedroom and my coziest pajamas. It wasn’t that late, but all I could focus on was my spat with Jennifer.
Once upon a time, she’d been my idol, but we’d never been close. The gap in our ages meant that I was the bratty and annoying younger sister at almost six years her junior. I worshiped her in my own way, but any time my parents wanted a night out, she was forced to give up plans with her friends and stay home with me and Nick. I didn’t understand her resentment at the time, but later I realized that as the oldest she had to shoulder a lot of burdens that Vanessa and I didn’t.
Like many oldest children, Mom and Dad were the toughest on Jennifer because she came first. She had to babysit. She wasn’t allowed to date or drive. By the time Nick and I were teenagers, we got everything we wanted without a fight because my parents were straight-up exhausted. My theory was that they were tired of driving kids around and thankful when we got our licenses. Jennifer was understandably resentful and a relationship that should have repaired itself over time never mended.
Over the years, I’d only see Jennifer at family events where we’d exchange terse words. Only when Vanessa forced us together did we spend time around one another, but our personalities just didn’t click. I’d embarrass her with an ill-timed compliment about a haircut she hated or make an observation she thought was too crude, and then she’d freeze me out.
After I finished castigating myself for not having a comeback to Jennifer’s hate-filled words, I moved on to my regrets over how the night had ended with Chase. How did we go so wrong?
He’d been an amazing date. The last few minutes after the altercation with Jennifer were a haze, but thinking back, I’d essentially told him off. The sexiest man I’d met in forever, who seduced me in the kitchen of my brother’s wedding and stood by me during Jennifer’s shit-fit, and I’d told him to get lost. I’d quit on him.
I sucked. I could blame the sexual and sisterly frustration, but that wasn’t good enough. I owed the man an apology. I also kinda felt like he owed me an orgasm and a new pair of underwear with tearaway seams, but really, the interruptions weren’t his fault. I could only hope he’d give me another chance.
