Chapter Nine
Piper
My hands dive under Chase’s shirt, fingers raking over the hard lines of his abdomen, hungry for skin.
For him. Five days without this feels like a goddamn lifetime.
“Missed you.” The words tear from my throat, raw and breathless against his mouth. “So much.”
"Yeah?" He groans, fingers tangling in my hair, tilting my head back. “Show me.”
His kiss swallows my gasp. Hot. Deep. All-consuming.
It’s like stepping into sunlight after being trapped in a cave. The sterile perfection of my Chicago penthouse evaporates in the wake of him, the scent of pure Chase flooding my senses.
His tongue strokes mine, and I melt into it. Into him.
His rough hands make quick work of the buttons on my ridiculously expensive silk blouse and the fabric tears. A button pings against the wall as we stumble back, but I don't care.
"Oops.” Even he doesn’t sound sorry. Not one bit. A feral grin lights up his hazel eyes. "Guess you'll have to stay longer now. Nothin' to wear back to Chicago."
“Such a smooth talker, Morrison.” I shove his flannel off his shoulders. It joins my ruined blouse and his gray t-shirt follows.
And then… oh God.
Defined, sculpted muscle. A dusting of sandy hair across his pecs tapering down into a perfect trail disappearing into his jeans.
The man has abs. For days.
Hard ridges I want to map with my tongue. I remember being drunk the first time and the details have always been fuzzy.
But the sight of this? Sober?
It’s… obscene. It’s art. And it's all mine for this entire weekend.
My hands glide over the warm, smooth skin of his chest and he shudders under my touch.
“Like what you see, Chicago?” His voice is a low rumble vibrating against my palms.
“I told you, it's Piper,” I correct breathlessly, leaning in to press an open-mouthed kiss just below his collarbone. He tastes like clean sweat. “And yes. Very much.”
My lips travel lower, tracing the defined dip between his pecs. Slowly, I move down, dragging slowly down the center line of his stomach.
His muscles jump and tighten under my mouth. A sharp intake of breath hisses above me.
“Been thinkin’ about this all week,” he rasps. His fingers tighten in my hair, not forcing, just… holding. “Woke up hard every damn morning wishing you were here.”
The raw honesty in his voice, the need, shoots straight to my core.
I sink lower onto the worn rug, fingers hooking into the waistband of his jeans. His cock strains against the denim, thick and demanding. The bulge is impressively maddening.
A visual reminder of what I’ve been missing. What I craved during endless rounds in the ICU, during that agonizingly stiff dinner with Mother and the suffocatingly bland Maxwell Pemberton.
God, that was awful.
Maxwell’s perfectly manicured hands flashing beside Chase’s calloused ones in my mind. Maxwell’s polite, empty chatter versus Chase’s dirty promises breathed against my skin.
It’s no contest. Not even close.
“Tell me,” I murmur, popping the button of his jeans. The zipper rasps down and my nipples tighten with excitement. “What exactly were you thinking about?”
I free his cock and instantly grab for it. God. It's amazing. Thick and heavy in my hand, the tip already glistening.
His hips jerk as I wrap my hand around it and stroke.
“I was thinking about your mouth.” The word is a strangled groan. “Fuck, Piper. Your perfect mouth wrapped around me like that first night. Sucking me like you couldn’t get enough.”
I lean in, breathing him in… delicious musky male heat.
My tongue flicks out, tracing the swollen head, tasting the bead of moisture there. Salty. Utterly addictive.
A guttural sound escapes him and his hand fists harder in my hair.
“God, yes. Just like that. Take me, sweetheart. Show me how much you missed me.”
I open wide, taking him deep, relishing the deep, guttural groan that roars through his apartment.
I take it slow at first, savoring the weight, the heat, the way he fills my mouth and then my throat. His breath hitches, sharp and ragged above me. His thighs tense.
“Piper… Christ… so good… fuck…”
My hands grip his hips, holding him steady as I work him. Up and down, hollowing my cheeks, swirling my tongue around the sensitive ridge beneath the head.
This is power. This is connection. This is wiping away the sterile detachment of my hospital shifts, the coldness of my parent’s world.
All that exists now is his cock stretching my lips, his groans filling my ears, his fingers tightening possessively in my hair.
Then, just as I find my rhythm, he tries to pull back, hips trembling. “Piper… baby… I’m close. Too close. Wanna be inside you when I…”
But I suck harder, humming around him and bobbing my head, feeling him swell against my cheeks. A broken shout rips from his chest and his hips snap forward, pushing deeper.
"Fuuuck!"
I take it. Take him. All of him.
His release floods my mouth, hot and thick down my throat.
I swallow every drop, milking him gently until he shudders, collapsing back against the wall with a groan that sounds utterly wrecked.
He slides down the wall, pulling me with him, our bodies collapsing onto the rug in a tangle of limbs. He’s breathing hard, eyes dazed, a sheen of sweat on his brow.
He looks gloriously undone.
“Holy shit.” He stares at me, wonder and lust warring in his eyes. His thumb brushes my swollen lower lip. “Welcome back, Whitman. Goddamn.”
I kiss him, deeply, letting him taste himself on my tongue. “Missed you.”
He growls, rolling me beneath him in one smooth, powerful motion. My back hits the rug and he looms over me, all hard muscle and possessive heat. “Your turn.”
The words are a dark promise and his hands make short work of my bra, his mouth latching onto my nipple with a hungry groan. Electric pleasure arcs through me as I arch into his mouth, crying out.
His hands peel away my jeans, my panties, leaving me bare and wanting beneath him. The cool air on my overheated skin makes me shiver.
Or maybe it’s the look in his eyes.
“Chase…”
He kisses a blazing trail down my stomach. Over the jut of my hipbone. Lower. His stubble scrapes the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
“Spread for me, sweetheart,” he commands, his voice rough velvet against my skin. "Let me taste this sweet pussy again."
I obey, helpless against the need thrumming through every nerve ending. His breath ghosts over my core.
“Fuck, you smell good,” he groans, burying his face against me. “Like heaven. Like mine.”
His tongue finds my clit. A slow, deliberate stroke as I gasp, my fingers fisting in his hair as my hips rise to press against his warm mouth.
He does it again. And again. Circling. Teasing.
Applying just the right pressure to make my hips jerk off the rug over and over. It’s exquisite torture.
“That dinner,” I pant, my thoughts fragmenting. “Mother… Maxwell… god, they were awful…”
His tongue circles faster, firmer. “Forget them.” He nips lightly at my inner thigh. “You're here now. Right here. With me, and only me.”
His tongue plunges into me, fucking me deep, then retreating to lavish attention on my clit. I’m panting, writhing, mindless with pleasure as thoughts flash before my eyes.
“You know he’s… Oh!… nothing, right?” I gasp, my hips lifting off the rug as his tongue flicks expertly over my clit. “Just… some… banker… Mother’s idea… of perfect…”
Chase groans against me, the vibration rippling through my core. His fingers dig into my hips, holding me still as he sucks hard.
“God! Chase!” My head thrashes back. “Didn’t… want him… didn’t… touch him…”
He lifts his head just enough to growl, his breath hot and damp on my soaked skin. “Better not have. This cunt’s mine. Only mine, Piper.”
Um. Hello!
The raw, possessive claim shouldn’t thrill me. But it does. It sets fire to my blood like nothing ever has before.
“Yes. It's yours,” I whimper, grabbing the back of his head and pushing his mouth against me, desperate for more. “Only… yours…”
No strings. The phrase echoes hollowly in my fogged mind as his tongue delves deep again, fucking into me with relentless precision.
I can do what I want. Sleep with who I want.
Go back to Chicago whenever I want.
But why the hell would I want that when I could have this? Chase’s hungry, dirty, filthy mouth. His calloused hands branding my skin. The way he makes me scream his name like I’ve never needed anything more in my life.
My week flashes through the haze of pleasure, the suffocating lunch where Mother paraded me like a show pony all over again. I had to sit there, pretending I wasn’t counting the hours until Friday. Pretending my heart didn’t lurch every time my phone buzzed with a text from Stone River.
“Fuck our rules,” I moan, arching wildly as his fingers join his tongue, curling inside me. “Chase! Oh God… please…”
He adds a finger, curling it and stroking that spot just inside my entrance. His mouth sucks hard on my clit and the pressure builds, a wave cresting higher and higher…
“Come for me, Piper.” His voice vibrates against me. “Scream my name. Let me hear it.”
The command shatters me as pleasure detonates, white-hot through my entire body. My body bows off the rug, a raw cry tearing from my throat. “CHASE!”
He rides it out with me, his tongue gentling, coaxing every last tremor from my body until I collapse back onto the rug.
He kisses his way back up my body, his lips claiming mine again, sharing my taste.
I can feel he’s hard again. Already.
“Ready?” he grits out, his eyes blazing into mine. “I need to be inside you.”
The sharp rrriiiip of the condom wrapper tears through the heavy breathing. Chase tears it open with his teeth, his eyes locked on mine, blazing with intent. My core clenches, wet and ready, but my brain screeches to a halt.
His words from the waterfall echo, sharp as that tear.
"I catch feelings like other people catch colds. Fast and completely."
Fast and completely.