Protecting His Assets (14 page)

For a second she was too startled to reply. He rarely talked dirty around her, and him just saying he was going to fuck her—oh God, please—was enough to bump her already thready pulse into the red zone. “You know, I was taught that swearing was a lazy man’s way of expressing himself,” she mumbled.

“That so, sugar? I can guarantee I won’t be lazy when I express myself in about three-point-five seconds.” He rotated his hips against hers and her brain did its best impression of an Etch-A-Sketch. Wiped clean with one shake—or in this case, one well-placed pelvic thrust.

Then the rest of what he’d said sank in and she opened her eyes. “You think I see you as the bad boy of the major league?”

“Doesn’t everybody?” More cockiness, but this time she saw the hint of vulnerability in the drawn tight lines of his face.

“No. Everybody doesn’t.” She reached up and caught his cheeks, making him look at her. He hadn’t kissed her yet, but that wary look in his eyes melted her almost as surely as his lips on hers. Almost. “To them, you’re Deuce. To me, you’re Chase.” She leaned up and pressed her lips to his for an instant before he started edging away. “Just Chase,” she repeated, trying not to let the hurt inside her crowd out the lust.

So what if he didn’t want to kiss her? He had that afternoon on her couch and she knew it had shaken him—probably even more than it had shaken her. She’d practically run away from him, then told herself her overwhelming reaction had been from the sauce’s herbal enhancements. They couldn’t have chemistry that powerful.

Except here they were again, and oh God, did they ever.

So what if he wanted to slot her into the category of simply another lay? All she wanted from him was sex. Sure, she might’ve hoped for more, but it wasn’t like he was good relationship material, and besides, she was his sister’s friend. Normally he saw her as a buddy, someone to protect and keep safe. Either he was guarding her physical person or ensuring she had multiple O’s.

She should be indignant, right? She didn’t need anyone taking care of her any longer. He’d sort of strong-armed her into the whole bodyguard thing, but he wasn’t in charge of making her feel better about herself or even making her come—despite what she’d insisted he do.

Somehow she needed to get indignant, quick.

Saying nothing, he pushed two fingers into her, slow and sure, flexing them exactly right. She arched and moaned at the raze of his teeth over the stubble burn on her throat. “You’re thinking too much,” he said against her skin, lips rubbing, fingers pumping. “Feel.”

Feel. Yes, she could do that.
They
could do that.

His touch grew rougher, harder. She didn’t want to come on his hand. She’d given up so much control to him already—she’d be damned if she did here too.

She palmed his head and pressed against his shoulder, making him draw his softly abused mouth away. Seeing it so swollen from kissing her skin made her ache. God, she wanted to feel it everywhere. “You stalling or you got a problem with making love to a woman right?”

His jaw locked. Oooh, she’d pissed him off. “Didn’t realize you had a problem with how I was
making love
to you to begin with.” He traced his thumb over her chin. “Tell me what you want, baby. You gonna make demands, I think you should ask for exactly what you want.”

Uh oh
. “I want you to put your mouth between my legs.” There. Perfect.

His mouth curved as he knelt and parted her thighs. Her heart beat thickly in her ears when he moved in close, then stared up at her and slowly rimmed his lower lip with his tongue. “Like this?”

She let out a frustrated growl and reached for his head again. He darted back before she could grab him, that infuriating smile growing. “Damn you, you know what I want.”

He smiled at the rarely used curse from her and slid his finger over her puffy lower lips, so lightly she barely felt it. “You afraid to say the words, church girl? Tell me what you need. Stop beating around the bush.” He stroked the small strip of hair, mirth dancing in his green eyes. She’d never seen them as alive as they were right then. If she wasn’t so pissed at him for tormenting her, she might’ve even been glad.

“Chase,” she warned.

“Say it.” His voice, low and cajoling, floated over her senses. His gorgeous eyes beamed straight inside her and shattered the last of her reservations.

She had no reason to be shy. This was Chase, and he wanted her. Fucking finally. Only a fool wouldn’t take full, graphic advantage.

Besides, a curse word only counted as a swear when used in anger, right? She wasn’t even a little bit mad right now. Well, mad for Chase’s cock, but that was a different thing entirely.

“Slide your tongue in my pussy and tongue fuck me until I come. Hard. All over your face.” At his surprised—and aroused?—grunt, she tacked on a smile. “Please.”

“Jesus. Remind me never to dare you again,” he muttered, lowering his head.

Luckily he didn’t see her pump her fist—or roll her eyes back in her head at the first swipe of his tongue over her slick seam. He did it again, just as slowly, murmuring something she couldn’t make out. His teeth scraped her clit and she jolted, only to have his massive hands clamp over her thighs to hold her still. She wasn’t getting away.

Thank God.

He took his sweet time sucking and licking her, exploring every crevice of her pussy until she could do little more than shiver and moan incoherently. He slipped two fingers into her, then worked in three, circling them and stretching her so pleasantly that her belly cramped with her oncoming orgasm. And oh hell, it was going to be big. That whole all over his face thing? Not unlikely at this point. Especially when he sealed his lips around her clit and applied soft suction, never letting up the twist and grind of his fingers in her now dripping slit.

Warn or not to warn? Guys usually gave a head’s up. Did she need to? He had to know. But it was probably the courteous thing to do. “Chase, I’m going to—”

He didn’t let her finish. Instead he stood up, a condom already in his fist, his lips and chin wet from her arousal. Her core clenched. Shittake, that was sexy.

“I know.” She gazed at him as he slid the latex over his erection—she’d need a Niagara Falls amount of easing to make
that
go down easy—and stepped between her legs. “Wrap your legs around me and take me in.”

“But I didn’t get to come.” Yeah, sounding petulant was always sexy. But she couldn’t help it. Though, really, why should she complain? If she kept looking at that rock hard cock, standing at an angle away from Chase’s exquisitely fit body, she’d climax spontaneously and all would be right with the world.

“Take me in you, Summer.” And this time, there was no playful light in his eyes, no humor in his tone. He was down to all business.

Well, so was she.

She wrapped her fingers around him, stroking gently, then more briskly when he lurched into her grip. Touching was definitely believing, since his size was no mirage. That hot, firm flesh pulsed in her hold and she swallowed a sigh as she slid him over her cleft. He grunted, clearly getting impatient, so she acquiesced enough to take the tip of him inside, moaning at the intimate invasion. Even his fingers hadn’t prepared her. Especially when his muttered, “Sorry,” offered her an inadequate warning for his surge into her body. Full throttle, one deep thrust. “Jesus,” he gasped against her forehead, still more articulate than her since all she could do was whimper. “You’re tight. Like a goddamn fist.” He eased back and lifted her chin. “Please God, tell me you’re not a virgin.”

“Hell no.” Annoyed, affronted, she swiveled her hips and angled her legs to take more of him inside her. She might die, but he’d called her a virgin. “
Hell
no,” she said once more, whimpering again as he accepted her challenge and slid in again. Rinse and repeat. After about the fifth time, she could take full breaths again.

“Sorry to insult you.” He grinned at her and lifted her up, tilting her over that table until her shoulders bumped the mirror and she was more on display than she’d ever been in her life.

And sweet holy hot fudge, she
loved
it.

With a wiggle and a bit of stretching, she managed to grip two solid handfuls of his delectable ass. What she wouldn’t give to see it tense as he powered in and out. “Fuck me, ball boy. No holding back.”

His answer? He bit her chin. Pulled out, hesitated with just his tip inside. Then slid in, as slow as warm fudge slipping over melting ice cream. He groaned and the sound shivered over her mouth, as physical as a kiss. His breath puffed in and out and she locked gazes with him, helpless to look away during the endless siege of his cock into her pliant, slick center. His stomach flexed and she looked down, riveted by the sight of him burrowing in and holding, the pleasure so acute she couldn’t do more than beg. Shamelessly.

“I’m going to come,” she breathed, grinding against him. Oh God, he filled her perfectly. The burn felt so good. “Just a little more—”

He drew out and she expected him to instantly reclaim her, as he did before. But nope. He grimaced and knelt between her thighs instead, his irises so intently green that she would’ve sworn their power singed her skin.

Before she could protest, his mouth was on her, gently sucking, coaxing out that orgasm he denied her twice and now provoking it to flow in a hot, quick burst onto his waiting tongue. Spasms overtook her and she bent forward, grasping a fistful of his silky blond hair, dragging him against her so he could hopefully never leave. He barely gave her time to enjoy the heat spiraling through her, bathing her limbs in a warm glow, before he rose and powered back into her in one deep stroke, then swiveling and doing it again. “Damn sweet pussy,” he whispered over her lips, still not kissing her, making her hunger for his mouth in a way that shook her and nearly made her lose her mind.

And it did make her come again, in a swift, drenching rush while his hips battered hers and he murmured dark, dirty things right against her ear. “Give it to me. All of that juice. Soak me in you. That’s it. So tight around me, baby. I never want to leave.”

Summer mumbled her agreement, so dazed she would’ve acquiesced to anything. It was enough that he was fucking her like a frigging stallion while that night’s entertainment sang Joan Jett’s “I Love Rock and Roll” onstage. The heavy bass beat reverberated through the floor, shaking the table. Or maybe that was just Chase shaking the table, banging it into the wall while he drove in and out, whispering wicked words that made her writhe and pant and fall a little deeper and harder than she ever had before.

He didn’t give her advance notice he was coming. She didn’t need it. He pulled out and sank deep in fast, frantic thrusts, his lips warm on hers though he still didn’t kiss her. Not for real. She settled for even that paltry contact while his body shot into overdrive, content to cling to him and murmur her own version of dirty talk, which wasn’t all that dirty at all. But it seemed to make him even more crazed and she started worrying he’d fuck her right through the sheetrock.

Guess she’d add Empire to the list of clubs she figured might not invite her back.

She wound her arms and legs around him as he buried himself inside her and let out a shout he muffled with her mouth. For a second his tongue slid over hers, desperately, and she sucked on it for all she was worth, still squeezing him hard with her inner muscles to prolong his pleasure.

Judging from his stuttered gasps, she was pretty sure she succeeded.

For a few dizzy moments after, she tried to gather her bearings. Somehow her butt had gone numb. With all that activity, she didn’t know how it was possible. She wiggled it experimentally and Chase grunted, stilling her with a swift pinch on her hip. “Don’t move unless you want me to fuck you again right now.”

Uh, okay then. And he really thought she’d stay still?

“That doesn’t bother me.” She flexed around him and he groaned. “I like to fuck.”

“Dammit, Summer.” She had no idea why his eyes went to slits as he pulled out of her, but he looked pissed.
Really
pissed.

She bit her lip. That probably wasn’t good.

Had he not enjoyed himself as much as she had? He’d certainly seemed…enthused. For God’s sake, he was still kind of hard when he pulled off the condom. So he’d been turned on. And the things he’d said during the throes had been rather convincing. He’d even invoked deities.

She shouldn’t ask. That would be lame. She’d pulled off the sexy, brazen woman act before—she’d even demanded he eat her, for Pete’s sake—so to ask would be to totally erase her provocative babe cred. If she even had any.

“Was it—was it unsatisfying?” she asked as he bent to pick up his jeans. She feared he’d get a head rush since he remained stooped over while clutching the denim in one fist. “You can tell me. I won’t cry.” She crossed her arms over her breasts. They were still red from stubble. And bite marks.

Yep, there she went, getting all lubed up again for a party that would
not
be occurring.

He pulled on his clothes, dressing silently. And fast. She’d never had a guy bail on her immediately after sex, but she suspected this might be the first time. Which sucked, because he was her ride. The trip upstate to Yardley would be a bucket of fun, because she knew he wouldn’t leave her on her own. He’d just not talk to her and make her life miserable.

But hey, she wasn’t crying about her show anymore, so…win?