Chapter Eleven #2
Chase holds onto me, and I can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Chase is my unexpected hero. My partner in crime.
I think back to how we almost kissed and to when he leaned in and kissed my cheek.
We’ve been close to kissing on two occasions, and my urge to finally have that moment with Chase is growing stronger, so much so that I want to turn and throw myself at him.
I’m not even concentrating on the television, more on the pounding in my chest, the frantic rhythm of my breaths, and the ache in my soul from the need in me to kiss him.
Is he feeling this ache, too?
Does he need this like I do?
All I know is I am a strong, confident woman, but I’m sure as hell not going to throw myself at him. If he wants to kiss me, he can make the first move.
The end credits roll for the episode while Chase shifts a little beside me, letting out a yawn. I peek at the clock on the wall to see it’s almost two in the morning.
Geez. I had no idea that much time had passed.
“It’s getting late. I should probably head home,” he murmurs.
What do I do?
Do I tell him he can stay?
No, you’re not throwing yourself at him!
Even if that was my initial plan.
Maybe Aria’s right. Chase is worth more than a casual fuck.
“Okay, no worries,” I reply, wanting to shake myself.
Say something to make this stop!
We both stand as he starts to clean up the mess from dinner.
“Oh, don’t worry about that.”
He raises his brow. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
We walk to the door with a heaviness in the pit of my stomach. I simply don’t want Chase to leave. We’ve had such a good night, and the way he’s hesitating makes me think he doesn’t want to go either.
“Rawrr… feed me,” Polly screams out.
I roll my eyes. “Eat your fruit, Polly,” I call back.
“Rawrr… fuck off, fuck off.”
Closing my eyes, I sigh while Chase chuckles. “Have I told you how much I really like your bird?”
I stand in the doorway, tilting my head. “You do?”
Chase’s intense eyes run me up and down, making me shudder. “I like his owner, too.”
My whole body stiffens as I bite my bottom lip.
Chase steps closer, his hand resting on my hip, and his fingers dig in.
I gasp at the dominance he shows in that one little tug.
Our bodies are so close as my arms wrap around his neck, my fingers threading through his hair while we stare into each other’s eyes.
Ba-dum.
Ba-dum.
His hand slides up, fingers threading gently through my hair until they cradle the back of my neck, firm and possessive.
The contact sends a shiver racing down my spine, igniting something molten in my chest that spills heat all through me.
I can’t breathe. Not properly. Because he’s looking at me like he’s been holding back for far too long, and he’s finally about to lose control.
The fire crackles somewhere behind me, casting a flickering amber glow across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw, the dark intensity swimming in those gorgeous blue eyes.
I feel charged.
Like the air between us is thick with static, like my body’s caught in a storm I don’t want to escape. My breath stutters. My heart pounds, frantic and heavy, as his thumb brushes the sensitive spot just beneath my ear. I tilt my head before I realize I’ve even moved.
He leans in slightly, just enough to tilt the world on its axis.
The anticipation winds tight between us, clawing at my skin, tugging at something deep inside me that’s been aching for this.
For him.
It’s a slow, magnetic pull.
A silent question.
My body answers before my brain can catch up, swaying toward him, needing his mouth, needing his touch, needing everything we’ve been dancing around since the moment we met.
His lips hover close enough that I can taste his breath, sharp, warm, laced with restraint.
“Lyri,” he rasps, his voice wrecked with hunger, his grip tightening in my hair, no longer gentle, but possessive and commanding. Then his mouth crashes down on mine with a force that knocks the air clean out of my lungs.
He slams me back against the door. I gasp, but it dies in his mouth.
My fingers claw at his shirt, his hair, anything to tether me through the storm he’s unleashing.
His hands are everywhere, gripping my hips, sliding down my ass, lifting my leg to his waist as he thrusts against me like we’re seconds from tearing clothes and not giving a damn where we are.
Every move is demanding.
Desperate.
Dominant.
We’re not kissing.
We’re consuming.
A moan rips free, guttural and needy, as his thigh presses between mine, grinding right where my clit is pulsing. I push back, matching his pace, his pressure, his hunger. I don’t even know who I am in this moment, just that I’m wild for him.
Starved for him.
His teeth nip my bottom lip, tugging it between his like he wants to claim it.
Claim me.
The growl he lets out when I bite back is animalistic, possessive, and perfect.
We’re frantic. Like we’ve waited too long and now we’re both drowning, and this, this is the only way to breathe.
And God, it’s heaven.
It’s a sin.
It’s everything I never knew I needed and more than I ever imagined he’d give.
I’m not just kissing Chase.
I’m coming undone for him.
My hands move to his jacket to start pulling it off, but he suddenly jerks back from our fantastic kiss, breathing deep and heavy. My eyes widen, my hands still holding his jacket but not moving as I pause to pant for heavy breaths.
Why did he stop?
His eyes usually convey so much, but right now, I don’t know what they’re saying. He’s like a lost puppy as his hands slide away from me. Dropping my leg, he takes a step back, putting distance between us.
My veins flood in a bitter, icy blast as he shrugs his jacket back up over his shoulders into place.
Instantly, I know he’s shutting this down, shutting me down, and my eyes drop to the floor, my arms wrapping around my body for my own comfort.
Maybe I shouldn’t have thrown myself at him?
He hesitates, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I’ll call you,” he murmurs like that’s supposed to make me feel better.
It really doesn’t.
My chest squeezes as I sink into myself. My body instantly goes numb. The temperature drops in the room from fiery hot to subzero in two-point-five seconds.
Chase gestures for the door, so I step aside, letting him leave.
I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
All I know is I feel like I’m falling apart.
We had a good night, a great night. Didn’t we?
I don’t understand what’s happening right now.
He flicks the lock on the door, then turns back to me, but my eyes can’t meet his. I’m embarrassed. Maybe I even feel a little dirty. Hell, I don’t fucking know.
Chase exhales, rubbing his hand through his hair as he opens the door and steps through it. He doesn’t say anything else before he closes it behind him.
Then, just like that, Chase is gone.
My heart thuds hard, my eyes welling with tears that I blink away as I stand here, rejected. My bottom lip trembles more than a little deflated. A glacial breeze sweeps over my entire being, chilling me to the core.
His car door slams shut with force outside, and I jump at the noise.
From the intensity of our kiss, I thought we were on the right track.
So why the hell did he do a complete backflip?
It makes no sense.
My eyes wander around my living room, my crazy, chaotic living room.
I can only think of one thing—his suits, his fancy cars, and me with my boho clothes and manic lifestyle.
This has to be a class thing. Not because of money, we both have that, and he knows it, but because he’s fancy, and I’m anything but.
I’m not the type of woman he’d usually be seen with.
It’s the only thing I can think of.
That, or I’m a terrible kisser?
Maybe we are over before we’ve even had a chance to begin.
Maybe Chase is just like all the other heartbreakers out there.
Maybe I was right in the first place.
Goddammit! I should have kept my guard up. Then I wouldn’t be feeling like this right now.
My body shudders with the anguish, and then a single tear escapes, rolling down my cheek. I quickly swipe it away, angry with myself, trying not to let him get the better of me. I flick off the light switch, turn off the television, grab my cell, and head to my bedroom.
I need to sleep.
Come back to this with a clear head in the morning.
Right now, I’m not thinking straight.
After putting my cell on the charger, I take all my clothes off, leaving me in just my panties. I can’t even be bothered to grab my pajamas before I slide under my silk sheets, my head slamming dramatically on the pillow with a huff.
There are parts of the Chase puzzle I simply can’t piece together. He is a mystery I can’t wrap my head around, and he seems to keep what he wants close to his chest.
Maybe there are things about him he’s hiding from me.
I exhale, rolling over in bed onto my back. I stare at the ceiling, trying to make sense of it all. Our kiss was amazing, electric, breathtaking even, and yet, he left so fast it was like he couldn’t get away from me quick enough.
It stings.
No, it hurts.
What did I do wrong?
My chest squeezes as I clench my eyes tight, yanking my blanket up to my chin. I need some comfort right now.
Maybe I’m not the woman he wants?
Either way, I’m going out of my mind.
I need to switch off.
Otherwise, I will turn this into something bigger than it needs to be.
I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.
Right?