Chapter Sixteen Evie
Chapter Sixteen
Evie
“Chase.” My palms slap down on the kitchen island as a deep exhale escapes me. Actually, it’s more of a moan. “That’s so good. Right there.”
His deep voice vibrates in all the right places. “Devi impastare, tesoro. Non fermarti ora.” (You gotta knead, baby. Don’t stop now.)
My eyes tip up to the ceiling before squeezing closed because I can’t concentrate. I’m not sure I even know my name. “You’re torturing me. Goddammit.”
Another moan falls from my lips, although it sounds more like a whimper.
“Evie . . .” he levels.
My name is said as a warning. But his voice is so commanding that it makes my fingernails curl into the flour spread on the counter, under the doughy mess I stopped rolling around two minutes ago.
“Shhhh,” I beg. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
He tsks. “Se te lo ripeto, non ci sarà il dessert.” (If I tell you again, there will be no dessert.)
I drop my head and meet his gaze from where he’s sitting on the kitchen floor. Between me and the counter. Fingering me and teasing me with his tongue while making it really fucking hard to concentrate on anything other than getting off.
“I’m pretending you’re telling me to concentrate on coming.”
“Dough. Knead it,” he growls in English, pressing his lips to my clit like a chaste kiss.
Fuck. I shake my head, half crying and fully panting as I open my eyes and stick my hands back on the stupid bread dough.
“Happy?” I snap, but the moment I do, all my breath is stolen from me. “Oh fuck.”
My stomach caves, because Chase just thrusted two fingers inside me, gripping my bare ass with his other hand.
“That’s not how you answer me,” he croons, blowing on my clit.
“Yes, Chef,” I rush out with a shiver, lifting to my tiptoes as he makes a come-hither motion inside of me, rubbing the perfect spot.
My voice is a squeak. “Oh god, that’s so good.”
As a reward, he runs his tongue slowly over the throbbing little beggar, making my entire body convulse as he squeezes my ass to remind me to knead.
This is my own fault.
I woke up all hot and heavy this morning from my dream and stupidly said, Wanna play Top Chef?
But instead of rolling over on top of me, he hauled my ass out of bed, set me on a barstool, and began making bread. And now he’s forcing me to finish while he finishes me.
His tongue leaves my clit as he says, “The secret is to make sure you roll in a slow motion . . . like this.”
My lips part as his thumb begins massaging my clit in slow circles. I don’t know if my hands are copying him, but I’m doing something, because I feel my body rocking.
Or maybe that’s because I’m desperate to orgasm so I’m fucking his fingers.
“You can’t put too much pressure . . .” His fingers move together with his thumb, making me pant as I knead this damn dough. “You want to make sure it’s just enough, or you could ruin it.”
Jesus, my legs already feel like jelly and my lungs feel like I can’t suck in enough breath. Because he’s so fucking good at this.
He never lied when he said he fucked me better than he cooks . . . because I’d give him all the Michelin stars. All of them. I’d take them from other restaurants to give to him.
My mind is a scattered mess, unable to keep itself on the goddamn dough because Chase just keeps stroking and fingering me. Over and over. In the most erotic rhythm.
I’m lost to the feeling of the way he fucks my cunt. The draw of his fingers against my entrance before he presses them back inside, massaging my G-spot each time.
He bites the inside of my thigh, and my body quakes before he starts to kiss and suck a hickey onto my skin.
Fuck, that’s sexy.
He’s so close to my clit that it amps up my lust. I rock my hips while his fingers do their work. My eyes close, my fingers pressed into the soft dough as his voice touches my skin.
“Je veux te marquer pour que tout le monde voie que tu es à moi. Tu auras de la chance si je ne te baise pas si fort que tu sentiras toujours comme moi.” (I want to mark you so everyone can see you’re mine. You’ll be lucky if I don’t fuck you so hard you’ll always smell like me.)
Fuck. I can feel my body building toward my orgasm. It’s gathering, swirling in my stomach, climbing higher and higher.
I’m breathing hard as his fingers massage me and his mouth stays just out of my reach. Dammit, I want his tongue so bad. I keep rocking my hips, begging for it.
“Kiss me,” I mewl, pressing my hips forward again.
“Ti bacerò finché non avrai un orgasmo così forte che potrò leccartelo via dalle cosce, tesoro.” (I’ll kiss you until you orgasm so hard I can lick it off your thighs, darling.)
Oh fuck. His mouth sends me over the edge, and not just the words. Chase slowly runs his tongue directly over my clit.
A wave of pleasure hits me as I suck in a breath and demolish the bread between my fingers.
“Chassuhhh . . .” I grunt on a very unladylike moan, squeezing the dough between my fingers and bending over him, my face almost hitting the island.
But I barely finish, my chest heaving as I’m dragged down his body. His tongue licking my cum off my thighs before my knees touch the floor.
“Come ’ere,” he says, ragged and deep. “Get on . . .”
He’s already pulled down his briefs, freeing his rock-hard cock as I straddle him, reaching out to position him at my entrance before it pushes inside me.
I can’t help but gasp, because Chase isn’t just long, he’s thick. The man has big dick energy for a reason.
It doesn’t matter how wet I am, he always makes an impression.
I lean forward, placing my elbows on his shoulders as I steeple my hands above his head. He kisses the tops of my breasts, pulling one of my nipples into his mouth before I rock my hips, riding him.
We’re surrounded by flour spilled down the counter and pieces of dough on the floor, but neither of us cares. Because all that exists is our bodies, sweaty and flush to each other as I lift and grind back down.
“You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”
I smile, kissing along his forehead. He lifts his face, forcing his lips on mine. Chase brings a hand to my ass, gripping it hard before he takes over, lifting me up and down quicker.
Fuck.
He’s breathing into my neck now as we curl into each other, fucking harder and faster. We’re nothing but hot, shallow breaths and beads of sweat just unwaveringly locked on each other, chasing our release.
The sound of me, the lust I’m coated in, smacks and spreads out between us as Chase lifts his hips to meet the way he pulls me down onto him.
“Fuck me, baby. Fuck me good with that tight pussy.”
Damn. His dirty mouth does something to me. Every time.
“Chase. I want to come again . . . make me come . . . please,” I breathe out heavily.
I honestly don’t know if I can, but I still want him to try, because the need’s growing. We’re moving in unison, the fullness of him inside me so intoxicating it has my head falling back as he draws his tongue up my throat.
A soft moan escapes before our mouths meet again, kissing deeply as I grind down each time he lifts my ass.
“Goddammit, Evie,” he growls, breaking from my mouth and pressing hot kisses down my neck as I weave my sticky fingers into his hair. “You feel so fucking good.”
He’s panting, swallowing hard, his hot breath dusting my skin as we move faster and faster.
Yes. Oh god.
The tingling starts in my stomach, bleeding out and down through my center as I breathe quickly, panting. I can’t take it . . . it feels overwhelming. My clit throbs, wanting more friction as I ride him, clinging to his body.
“That’s it, baby, come on . . .”
I whimper, my fingers curling into his hair, as I rub myself against him while stretched open by his hard cock. His arms wrap around me and he growls, bucking his hips to meet me at each movement.
Our cheeks press together as stuttered cries begin to fall from my lips. Oh god . . . I’m coming.
“Oh . . . oh . . . oh my . . . fuck,” I moan, contracting around his cock, coming hard.
That’s all he needed, because Chase groans loudly into my shoulder, holding me to him tightly. I can feel his cock pulse inside me as he fills me.
Thank god for the pill . . . No little Chases yet.
Did I just say yet? Jesus Christ.
I feel him smile against my skin before we peel ourselves away, each of us still breathless.
He stares into my eyes and brushes a braid out of my face.
“You’re gonna be the death of me.”
I shrug. “Seems fair, since I’ve been wishing it on you for so long.”
He laughs, and I can’t help but just stare, because if I’m being honest, Chase feels a lot like I’ve died and gone to heaven.
“Be honest, did I ruin the dough?”
I already know the answer because it took us forty-five minutes to clean up the mess, but I’m still amused at how unsettled he was over ruined bread dough. You’d think I started a pyramid scheme and stole money from a children’s hospital with all the What a shames said under his breath.
“Yes,” he levels, looking back at me in the bathroom mirror.
I blink, putting a hand on my hip. “Okay, next time, you make me something . . . anything while I blow you, and we’ll see how well you do.”
He grins, bringing his hand to the top of his towel. “Go get a stick of butter—”
I laugh, playfully shoving him before I walk out of the bathroom and plop down on the bed in my towel.
“Hey, you never told me if you successfully kept today a surprise from the guys.”
Chase peeks his face around the doorjamb. “Yeah, they don’t have a clue. It’s getting delivered and installed later tonight. Nobody will be there . . . except for me.”
Obviously. He’s so cute.
“I think it’s so cute that you had, like, a family portrait made for the kitchen. Ten bucks says Leo tears up.”
He laughs from the bathroom before he walks out, talking. “I mean, some of these guys have been with me since the beginning in Boston. Come to think of it, Eddie’s really the only new guy.”
I’m putting lotion on my legs as he saunters past me to his dresser, looking sexy enough to eat with a towel around his waist. I fall back on my elbows and smile.
“Slut.”
He grants me that goddamn dimple and winks. “Aww, thanks, baby.”
He grabs his underwear and pulls it on before I get back to the point.
“How did you guys meet? You and Eddie . . . because he doesn’t strike me as someone you’d normally be friends with. He’s kind of unfriendly.”
“I think it’s cause he’s British.”
I laugh. “That’s what I thought. But British people are exceptionally funny, and he didn’t laugh at my jokes . . . not once. I don’t know, he just seemed off . . .”
He looks at me like Oh before selecting a T-shirt.
“You can blame a guy named Tommy—he’s who recommended him.
I was doing an appearance with some other chefs.
I knew I needed someone new since my old sous had kids, and he wouldn’t want to leave and come to LA.
So Tommy recommended him. I flew out, we had dinner, he had excellent taste and seemed to know a lot about me, so it seemed like a good fit. ”
He pulls his T-shirt over his head. “Would you want me to get someone new, baby?”
I blanch, surprised by the offer because he’s dead serious. Chase is staring back at me as he buttons his jeans, not a trace of humor or malice written over his face.
“You’d do that?” I breathe out. “You would fire somebody simply because I don’t like them.”
He grins and shakes his head. “No . . . I would fire someone if you told me that your gut said they weren’t cool.” He walks toward the bed, leaning over me and kissing my forehead. “I trust your judgment, Evie.”
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the difference between a boy and a man.
I roll my lips together, trying to hide my smile before I say, “Just tell him to laugh at my jokes, and we’ll be cool.”
Chase laughs, pushing back off the bed. “Stop making me fall for you.”
“No promises.”
My phone buzzes somewhere over on the bed, so I roll around, trying to find it, until I lie back and hold up the message to my face.
Erin: Call when you get here. We had a weirdo on set. Security will score you in.
I instantly sit up, looking at Chase, then read him the message.
He starts shaking his head. “You’re not going in.”
My hearts warm at his response, but I roll my eyes. “Shut up. There’s security everywhere. And it’s not a weirdo for me. It’s a weirdo for Jenny, aka Muffy.”
“No. Home,” he presses.
I know why he’s being so protective, but I also know I’ve never felt stronger over the past two years than I do right now. It’s so anti-boss bitch to think this, but Chase fixed something broken inside me.
Because he let me feel it all and never wavered from his post. I feel protected and reminded that we made it out of that fucking horror story into a goddamn rom-com.
And now I just want to live my life, with a healthy amount of caution, but to never go back to where I was.
Explaining that to him is another story. Especially seeing as the stubborn lines on his forehead are on display.
“Hear me out . . .” I say with a grin. “Yes, she had some guy send her a bunch of strange shit, like teddy bears with their hearts cut out.” I hold up a hand as he scoffs.
“But nobody witnessed it . . . and don’t forget she’s the girl who needed to commune with the werewolf suit.
So, grain of salt . . . plus, I think she’s on hallucinogens. ”
He crosses his arms. “Like I said . . . stay home.”
I scoot off the bed to stand in front of him. “And like I said . . . no. I’m not living in fear anymore of what could happen.” My hands land on his waist, and I give him a little shake, barely moving him. “I mean . . . if I did that, you wouldn’t be here.”
He leans down, nipping at my shoulder as I continue. “I promise it’s safe. There’s security, and I’ve got the Double D’s. No more living in the past.”
“True,” he grumbles. “But I’m not sure those two could find their ass from a hole in the ground.”
My eyes pop open, and he shrugs. “I heard that one from Gail.”
“It’s solid.”
He grabs the front of my towel, looking down at me sternly. “Listen, missy. Promise me you’ll check in. And if you need me or if anything weird happens—”
I cut him off. “I’ll call you. I promise. But it’s time for me to start living my life and not look over my shoulder anymore.”
He lets out a deep exhale as I grin, and my voice becomes very flirty. “You know, I’m kind of inspired by this boy that I really like . . .”
There’s a lift of his brow. “You are, huh? He must be really handsome.”
“Incredibly . . . like way hotter than Matt Damon.”
Chase wraps his arms around me in a bear hug, then motions for me to keep going as he walks me backward toward the bed.
I start listing actors, but by the time I make it to Charlie Hunnam, we’re kissing again, and I’m definitely going to be late to set.