Chapter 42 Annalise
Annalise
I can’t sleep.
That’s not a revelation, but it’s more than insomnia, more than adrenaline.
My stomach swirls with anxiety, viscous and toxic.
One moment Chase was at the bar, talking to a blond. When I looked back up, he was gone.
They both were.
He wouldn’t do that.
He said he’d wait.
And I was ready. Even during the show tonight, it’s all I could think about.
Him.
Finally giving in to this draw, this need. But something about him has been off. His walls are sky-high, his demeanor borderline angry. Surely he could tell I was interested by the way I dragged him out to dance, writhed against him, all tangled limbs and needy breaths.
But he pulled away. Closed himself off from me.
Then he started talking to another woman as I watched from afar, my heart caving in.
I kick off the covers with a growl of frustration. My throat is thick and tight, my pulse pounding with dark tension. Chest heaving, I glance at the nightstand beside me. The cup of half-eaten cherries glows beneath the wall lamp. Beside it, his room key.
It calls to me. Tempting and dangerous.
Rational thought clicks off, and I bound from the bed, sliding into my slippers and grabbing the key. I’m terrified I’m going to walk into an empty room. Because then I’ll know.
I’ll know he’s with her.
Tears bite at my eyes as I race from the room, inhibitions lost to the wind.
There’s a ringing in my ears, a heavy metal band pounding steel sticks against shrieking snares.
His door looms closer. Confirmation hides behind it.
Without thinking, I hold the key to the sensor and softly push my way inside. The room is dark. No lights are on.
Oh God…
My chest squeezes. I don’t want to know.
I need to know.
I step forward, glancing around, waiting for my eyes to adjust.
Then I hear something. A low moan, coming from the bathroom.
No.
She’s here.
Something twisted possesses my feet, carrying me forward. One step. Two steps. I’m prepared to discover sheaves of blond hair whipping around as Chase piledrives her against the bathroom sink. And still, I keep moving. Keep going.
My stomach is sick. My throat stings with bile.
I close my eyes, stopping just outside the open door.
Then, one by one, my eyes open.
I peer into the bathroom, and my breath locks up.
Everything freezes.
Chase is hunched forward, one hand planted against the bathroom wall while the other moves rapidly through the shadows.
I choke.
My gaze dips, landing on dark jeans pooled around his ankles.
Boxers caught around his thighs.
I watch, paralyzed, as he strokes himself, every muscle corded and tight. His head tilts back, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as a groan slips out.
All the moisture leaves my mouth. Arousal stabs between my thighs.
I can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t look away.
But something spills out of me: a gasp, a croak, a moan.
He stills.
His head flicks up, and our eyes meet through the darkness.
A sheen of sweat glints on his brow line, reflecting off the sliver of moonlight.
Heat scorches my cheeks. Lust and fear and embarrassment.
I should run. Back away. Apologize.
His hand slows but doesn’t stop.
My traitorous eyes drift again, watching with confusion and hunger as he fists his cock, his gaze still locked on me. I shouldn’t be here. I walked in on something private, personal.
And yet I’m rooted to the floor in my fuzzy bunny slippers.
Swallowing, I flick my gaze back up. Heat and want stare back at me. Darkness simmers in his eyes as he slowly pulls up from the wall and pivots to face me. This is my chance. My turning point. This is where I run, flee, practice my apologies spiels for when morning dawns.
But I don’t do that.
I inch forward.
Chase hesitates, then steps out of his crumpled jeans. He pulls his boxers all the way down, stepping out of those too. He’s completely bare before me, the scar on his leg slightly aglow, his massive length hanging heavy between his legs, fully hard.
I move another inch. Toward him. An invitation.
And he takes it.
In a flash, he’s on me. I’m lifted off the ground, my legs winding around his waist. Our lips crash together.
His tongue dives inside, frenzied and alive, teeth clacking against mine, mouths moving and desperate.
Need rips through me in firelit waves. I clench my thighs around him, tugging his hair, scratching his neck.
He lowers me to the bed, setting me down like I’m something he’s dreamed of a thousand times.
His mouth breaks from mine only long enough to whisper against my skin, “Been waiting for this. For you.”
My breath shudders out as I peel away my tank top, but he slows me, helping me tug it over my head, his fingertips brushing lightly down my arms. Then he’s kissing me again, deeper now, need pulsing between us.
When he pushes my shorts down, it’s with care, intention. His lips trail lower, heat and attention in every press, until he’s between my thighs.
The first sweep of his tongue rips a cry from my chest. My hips jerk, but he anchors me, palms cradling my hips, grounding me while his mouth works me slow, then faster, chasing the sound of my pleasure.
He groans into me, the vibration sparking through my veins, his eyes flicking up, locking on mine like he wants me to know I’m the only thing he’ll ever worship.
I soak his face with my need, his facial hair chafing my soft skin. He pulls me closer by the hips. Eats me out like a starved man.
I already feel it. Tingles climbing, euphoria blooming. He sucks my clit, sinks his tongue deeper. My body stiffens as I squeeze my breasts, spine bowing off the bed.
All my breath leaves me in a sharp gasp when the sensation hits.
Starlight blankets my vision, my body soaring, aglow, as waves of pleasure sweep through me in a violent, long-lasting shudder.
A high-pitched moan tears from my throat as my mouth hangs open, my ankles linked in a chokehold behind his upper back. Chase doesn’t stop. Keeps licking and sucking, feasting on me until the feeling fades and I collapse to the mattress, sapped and stunned.
I don’t have time to recover.
He army-crawls over me, hands tangling in my hair. His tongue plunges into my mouth, and I taste myself, the musky, wet desire.
“Fuck, Annie,” he rasps, dragging his tongue down my jaw, nipping at my neck. “You’re so beautiful when you come.”
His hand trails south, two fingers driving back into me, thrusting hard, the slippery sounds of my release filling the air.
I wrap my arms around his neck, still vibrating, tingling head to toe. “Chase…” His pulsing erection digs into my abdomen, spurring another moan. “What were you thinking about?”
The question falls out, impulsive.
He moves lower down my body, finding my breasts. Pushing them together with his hands, he flicks his tongue over each nipple, sucking, devouring. “This. You. Only ever you.”
Arousal soars back, drenching me. I hold his face to my chest, writhing beneath him as he draws new swells of pleasure out of me.
He leans back on his knees, eyes storm-dark, chest rising and falling like he’s fighting himself. But I don’t wait for him to guide me.
My palms slide down his thighs as I shift to a crouch in front of him. His cock hovers near my lips, thick and hard, veins roping beneath flushed skin. His eyelids flutter as his hand wraps around himself, precum slicking his fist. A low moan escapes him, ragged and raw.
“My turn,” I coax, curling my fingers over his wrist until he lets go. His eyes flare as I replace his hand with mine. Then my mouth is on him, taking him in deep.
“Christ—” The word clips off, replaced by a tapered moan.
He buries his hands in my hair, watching as my mouth glides over him, pulling him deep, sucking and licking.
“Holy fuck,” he pants out, tightening his hold on my hair.
He watches for a minute with hooded eyes before his head tips backward.
He guides me in and out, hands palming the back of my head, his parted legs trembling. “Jesus…not gonna last.”
My thighs clench in response.
I want him to let go, to spill down my throat. There’s power in knowing he’s already so close and I’m seconds away from bringing him to ecstasy with only my mouth.
I hum around him, swirling my tongue, tasting his salt.
He dives deeper, hitting the back of my throat. I gag, my eyes watering, but I don’t stop. My fingers curl, nails digging. Tears breach the corners of my eyes. Chase watches, dark lust creased across his face. He brushes his thumb across my cheekbone, streaking away a tear.
“That’s it.” His voice shakes, control slipping away. “That’s my girl.”
His hand drags through my hair, gripping hard at the crown of my head. He slopes forward, his opposite hand latching onto the headboard for support. I suck him harder, my hand stroking his base as tears stream down my hollowed-out cheeks.
I feel him stiffen, tense. And then his face contorts with pleasure, grip tightening, head craning back as his mouth parts with a feral moan. Ribbons of liquid heat splash across my tongue, hitting the back of my throat. I swallow him down with a needy whimper, drain him dry.
He comes down slow, panting and breathless. His hold on me loosens as he skims shaky fingers through my hair and slides out of my mouth, muscles unlocking and body sagging forward. I fall with him, curling into his side. Skin slick and breathing jagged, I press closer, wrapping my limbs around him.
“Chase,” I whisper.
My words stop and end with his name. I don’t know what to say, where to go from here.
I lean in and kiss him.
His lips part slowly, tongue coasting over mine with soft, languid strokes.
Then he pulls back with a sharp breath. “That was—”
“Everything,” I say, cutting him off. “It was everything.” Another kiss, another flick of my tongue against his bottom lip. “I want more.”
I want hours, days, months. An infinity of him. My body still sings, begging for it—him inside me, moving, burning, taking all of me.
That was just a taste. A glimpse of everything I crave.
My leg twines between his, my fingers tracing the planes of his chest.
“Do you have a condom?” My index finger draws down his abdomen, trailing the dark, coarse hair.
Swallowing, Chase tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “We should wait. I’m, uh…still a little drunk.”
My finger stops moving. I blink, studying his face, the glaze of his eyes, the dark shadows. “Oh.”
“I should’ve slowed down. I wanted that to be…” His voice fades out.
“It was.”
His eyes close, lashes fluttering, arm lifting to pull me closer. “I haven’t felt like myself lately.”
My heart clenches. I raise a hand, two fingers brushing his bangs aside then pressing gently to his forehead. “Your head?”
A nod.
“You should see a doctor, Chase.”
“I did. Before the first tour,” he says. “He told me to wear earplugs and gave me some prescriptions.”
A gnawing worry ripples through me, overshadowing the lingering desire. “It hasn’t helped?”
“No. Not really. I feel…” Hesitating, he holds me tighter. “Different.”
Tears puddle in my eyes.
I think over the past few weeks, the distance between us, the withdrawal. I thought it was me. My ghosts, my guilt, my self-blame. But he’s pulled back too. I see it now. I feel it.
He’s afraid.
“I’m here, Chase.” I press a soft kiss to his lips, pulling his forehead to mine and meeting his eyes through the darkened room. “I’m here.”
He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t reply.
And part of me wonders…
Maybe that’s exactly what he’s afraid of.