29. Nat
Nat
“I slept with my husband.”
Even referring to Chase as my husband doesn’t make what we did feel any better.
I thought I was dreaming. Thought I was having another of the vivid dreams I’ve been plagued with since my libido decided Chase Hawkins was worth jumping.
What he thinks is anyone’s guess because we haven’t talked about it.
And the only reason I know it wasn’t a dream, and we really did have sex is because I woke in bed beside him, the sticky evidence of our union between my legs, spread all over my thighs.
I can say with one hundred percent certainty I have never flown out of bed faster.
The shock of waking with come dripping from my pussy only outdone by the man lying beside me. Sound asleep.
Staring down at Chase, I’d debated what to do. Wake him? Get out of the room and pretend it never happened?
The latter seemed the best option.
At least until he wakes up and remembers.
Or doesn’t.
Other than being in bed naked, there’s no signs he’s had sex. Men are lucky like that. No come-soaked panties to deal with all day after the deed.
I’ve shut myself in the main bathroom on the other side of the suite from where Chase still sleeps.
It’s been twenty minutes since I leaped out of bed and scrambled for clothes.
Twenty minutes of going over and over what happened. And I still can’t get my head around it.
I slept with a twenty-one-year-old!
I’m his wife, yes, but having sex isn’t part of our deal.
Then again, neither is falling in love and as much as I want to deny it, I can’t. I love Chase Hawkins just as much as I love his sisters.
Only I don’t want to jump them.
I never, never , had this problem the last time I married a man for convenience.
But then Johnathon Whitman never had my heart squeezing with concern or joy or lust. He was a man five years my senior, the son of one of my grandfather’s friends who I knew would be an acceptable choice and give me access to money that was mine.
Money that would set me free.
Marrying Johnathon broke the first chains on my inheritance, unlocked the resources I needed to break free of my grandfather’s rule.
I’d never regret doing it. Even now, with Johnathon continuing to plague my life, I’d do it again.
But marrying Chase? Yeah, not about freedom.
And if I’m honest—and I need to be after last night—marrying Chase was a selfish act. Yes, I wanted to help him with his sister. Help the girls. Help keep their fractured family together.
But mostly I wanted the connection having the girls in my life would give me. The family I always wanted and didn’t believe I’d get.
“Fuck!” Head tipped back, I stare at the ceiling and mutter, “What have I done?”
I choke back a laugh.
I fucked my husband, that’s what I’ve done.
A growl of frustration rattles my vocal cords, but I hold it in. I’d give anything to do what Blake does to celebrate and scream as loud as I can at the sky.
Except this isn’t something to celebrate—be proud of.
I took advantage of a sleeping—probably still drunk—man.
Even if I was asleep too.
And slightly drunk.
That fucking bottle of champagne!
Fucking hotel!
“Fuck!” The curse grinds through my clenched teeth and my eyes focus on the water stain on the ceiling.
Sound in the other room grabs my attention and my eyes, my gaze snapping to the door.
With a muttered, “shit,” I dive for the shower and twist the knob. Water rushes out, drowning out any noise from beyond the closed door and I jump beneath the cold spray, grit my teeth, and suck a harsh breath through my nose. “Fuck that’s freezing!”
The first bang on the door gets ignored. But when the second and third are harder and louder, I know I can’t pretend not to hear.
“What?” I yell.
“The girls.” The door swings open and a naked Chase barges in. “The girls. I can’t find them. They’re not here. Something’s happened to them.”
He’s frantic, his gaze bouncing around the room searching for his sisters. I don’t even think he realizes I’m in the shower.
When his relentless search of the bathroom comes up empty, he grabs his head and fists his hair. “They’re gone. They’re all gone!”
The agony in his words has me moving before I think. I’m in front of him, my hands cradling his face, dripping water onto his feet. “They’re okay. Chase. They’re fine.”
“They’re not here!”
“No. The twins are with Whitney, they stayed with Fenton and Dana Barnes. And Deanne Harper has Candace. She’s had her since after the game.”
His head shakes in my hands, but I fight the movement.
“They. Are. Fine.”
“Fuck!” The curse is rough and raw, lined with the jagged edges of his distress and relief.
“I promise you, Chase, your sisters are fine.”
His head lowers, his forehead bumping on mine. “I thought…”
I can only imagine what he thought. He would have woken in a daze after drinking last night, not to mention the rigors of a tough game; the adrenaline climb and plunge from yesterday, along with the alcohol he consumed would have his brain in a muddle.
And then to find his sisters not where he expected…
“They’re fine. Probably having the time of their lives. And you know Deanne dotes on Candace. Spoils her rotten whenever she gets the chance.” My words are meant to reassure him and when he nods, I let out the breath I didn’t realize was lodged in my chest.
“They’re okay.” His eyes close, his forehead still resting on mine, as he blows out a puff of air. “They’re okay.”
We’re quiet for a few seconds. Both coming down from the panic of the last few minutes.
“Um, Gem?”
“Yes.”
“You’re naked.”
My eyes bounce between his. His lids are still lowered. He hasn’t opened them since he accepted my words as truth. “I was in the shower.”
“I’m also naked.”
I roll my lips inward. Fight to keep my gaze from lowering.
“I had a dream…”
Oh shit.
His eyes open, pin me under his stare. “It was the best dream of my life.”
Pulling my head away from his, I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t say anything. Because the words on my tongue are agreement. I want to tell him it was the best sex I’ve ever had even if I wasn’t fully awake for it.
“Don’t say anything.” His fingers cover my mouth. “I want to live in the dream a little longer and I’m pretty sure you’re going to say it was a mistake to have that dream.”
When I go to speak, he presses harder against my lips and shakes his head.
“No. We’re going to leave the dream in that bed. Let it rest there until we have time to talk about it. For now, we’ll do what everyone says you do here. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”
Why do I want to argue? It’s the best thing to do. Forget it happened. There’s too much at stake?—
“Switch that brain off for a second.” His command has me jerking back a little more. “Nope. Don’t go away.”
His hands over mine still on his face hold me in place.
“We will not think about last night and what it means until after the season is over. We’ll put it aside to look at later. When we’re not staring at the Cup.” His grin is blinding. “We’re playing for the Cup!”
He wraps his arms around me and lifts, spins. Exactly like he did with his sisters at the end of last night’s game. I want to laugh, shout with joy but Chase has forgotten something that I’m incapable of forgetting.
We’re both naked.
And right now, we’re plastered together—skin to skin—from chest to thigh.
My body clenches and weeps and breathing becomes a struggle. And it has nothing to do with the strong arms banded around my chest.
“Chase.”
“We’re playing for the Cup!” He spins a final time then starts walking.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting you back where I found you.”
I don’t understand until I feel the water on my back. “Oh.”
“Yeah. So…” He smiles at me with such hope in his eyes I know I’m not going to be able to deny what he says next. “We’re still in Vegas, and everyone knows what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”
“It’s a bullshit statement and everyone knows that too.”
“Maybe.” He moves us both completely under the shower. “But I need to clean you up after I defiled you in your sleep.”
He slowly lowers me to my feet, every inch of him rubbing over every inch of me, and I know I should object. Tell him to get out or get out myself. Except the way he’s looking at me. Like I’m the only thing in the world he wants. I can’t move. Can’t deprive either of us of this moment.
Because he’s right.
We need to shove what happened last night—what happens now—aside and get on with playing for the Cup.
“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” My words are a whisper. Barely audible over the water pounding the floor beneath our feet. But he hears them.
“For now. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, for now .” He waits for my nod of acceptance before asking, “So when do the girls come back?”
“This afternoon. After lunch.”
The grin he gives me is all mischievous cocky man, and I know, whatever is running through his head right now is going to mark me. He’s already marked me. And I’m not referring to last night.
Chase Hawkins has had me behaving in ways I never have before. Had me wishing for things I thought had passed me by. I thought him allowing me to adopt the girls was the best part of our partnership.
But maybe we haven’t reached the best part yet.
Maybe, maybe, the best part is just around the corner.
“You know what my favorite thing about you is?” he asks.
I shake my head, water flicking around us. “No.”
“You’re a strong leader, determined, focused, but it’s this, you taking a step back and letting me lead that’s my favorite thing about you.”
I don’t know what to say, what to think or feel. And then he goes and blows my mind further. Except this time, he takes my heart too.
“Because you, Natalie Redding, don’t let many people in. Your inner circle is tight, and for whatever reason, you’ve let me inside it. I will never make you regret that choice. I will cherish your trust for the rest of my life.”
“I...”
“I’ll guard it with my life.”
“Chase.”
“Because you deserve to have that. A person who will do anything to protect you and this soft heart you keep hidden from all but a few.”
He places his hand on my chest, over my heart, and in that moment, he owns it. Owns me.
“Now.” He grins. “Let’s get to making more things to talk about after we win the Cup.”