Chapter 14 Molly #2
I turn toward the house, wishing I could stomp or flounce away, but the crutches make that impossible. He follows me, and although I could tell him no, I don’t.
Despite my anger and frustration, I want him here.
“If I’m going to make a go of my plan for a cattle operation,” he explains, “I need to add the acreage from this property to my family’s land. It will give me access to the public land beyond it for grazing. It’s not as simple as walking away, Molly.”
Don’t I know it. But complications don’t seem to hold as much weight when it’s just the two of us in this quiet house. A place that doesn’t belong to me, but still feels like home.
Avah’s words spin through my mind.
Hate sex.
Do I hate Chase? No. It would be easier if I did.
I stop before I get to the stairs. “Do you know what is simple?”
I don’t even realize I’ve asked the question out loud until Chase answers.
“Tell me,” he says, his tone coaxing. “Because I could use a little simple and straightforward about now.”
He’s staring at my eyes, but I’m staring at his mouth. There’s a shift in the energy between us, and he has to know where my thoughts have gone. Following my needy body down a dangerous path that could end in me falling off a cliff.
I can’t seem to bring myself to care.
It’s not hate. Tumultuous was the word Avah used. It fits the mood.
I expect Chase to step forward and take control. It’s what I expect from the people in my life, and it’s what always happens.
He continues to watch me without moving. I can practically feel the tension vibrating from his body.
“Tell me,” he repeats, his tone rough but also tender.
Ignoring the warning from my better self and tossing good sense straight out the window into the dark outside, I reach for him, cursing how awkward the crutches make me feel.
But I love that he comes without hesitation, like I’m somebody he’ll let command him.
And damn, I want to.
“This,” I whisper and press my mouth to his.
Chase kisses me like he didn’t think he’d get the chance to again and wants to make the most of it. He keeps his hands fisted at his sides like he’s fighting every instinct to grab hold of me. The restraint only makes me want him more.
I plunge my tongue into his mouth and tangle my fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt as if he truly belongs to me. As if I’m the type of woman confident enough to claim a man like him.
The tension between us flames like a match. Yes, I’m angry. And yes, I want him anyway.
He groans low in his throat, and the sound sharpens the ache between my thighs.
I break away, breathing hard. “Bedroom. Now.”
His brows furrow. “Molly—”
“It’s simple and straightforward, Chase.” Pretty sure I’m reminding us both. “Either you’re with me or not.”
He blinks, and I almost smile at his expression—like I just knocked the air out of his lungs. It’s a heady sensation, one that makes me feel powerful in a way that’s both unfamiliar and inherently right.
“I’m with you.” He steps aside so I can pass, as if he knows I’m not going to be able to handle his touch. “Let me help—” he starts, reaching for my crutches.
“I’ve got it.” I adjust the grip and make my way toward the staircase. My ankle throbs, but it’s background noise to the electric buzz in my veins.
I can feel him at my back. “Please,” he whispers, and I sigh as I lean the crutches against the handrail and turn to him.
“Fine, but only so I can save my energy for the good stuff.”
His lips twitch as he lifts me into his arms. “So much good stuff.”
He takes the stairs two at a time and gently places me on the bed, towering over me but still waiting for permission.
I stretch out and look up at him from underneath my lashes. “If you’re going to act like you’re scared to touch me…” I gesture toward the nightstand. “I have a drawer full of toys to take care of this myself.”
That earns a low laugh. “Tell me what you want.”
I lean back against the pillow. “I want to be in this moment.”
“Just us,” he agrees.
The air between us shifts again. It’s less volatile now, but more charged. His gaze trails down my body, lingering on my injured ankle.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says softly.
“You won’t.”
He kneels in front of me, and his hands go to the strap of the orthopedic boot. He slides it off like I’m made of glass, then leans forward and kisses the skin just above my ankle. It’s tender and intimate and steals my breath.
I reach for him and pull his T-shirt over his head, my fingers skimming across smooth skin and taut muscle.
He helps me tug it off, and then his mouth is on mine again, deep and searching.
His hands cradle my face, and mine drift over his muscled chest and stomach, savoring the way he shudders under my touch.
“I want to see you,” he whispers.
He helps me peel off my shirt and then my bra, flinging them to some far off corner of the room, then follows me when I shift back on the bed, maneuvering carefully to protect my ankle.
He trails kisses down my neck and collarbone, then over the curve of my breast. There’s a quiet reverence in the way he touches me that makes my eyes sting.
Forget cobwebs. It’s as if my heart has been frozen for years, and every kiss is melting the ice around it.
I don’t stop him as he slides his hand beneath the waistband of my leggings, lifting my hips to give him full access. Because I trust him with this.
With me.
His hands find the curve of my waist, the swell of my hips, his caress sending shivers along my skin even as he claims more. “Christ, you’re so wet,” he says as his fingers dip into me.
I bite back a moan as he grazes his thumb across my clit, the sensation almost too much to bear. It’s not as if I don’t know what it feels like for a man to touch me, but everything about Chase makes this moment feel different. More.
“Wait.”
He goes still, and I watch as his chest rises and falls in ragged breaths. I’m glad I’m not the only one with that reaction.
“Take off your clothes,” I command gently.
“Kind of busy here,” he says with a tight laugh.
“We’re in this together,” I remind him, cupping his jaw.
My breath catches as he stands and begins to strip, eyes locked on mine. I drink in every inch of him–those broad shoulders, abs that flex with each movement, thick thighs I can imagine between mine. His cock is already hard, and my mouth waters at the sight of him.
“You’re staring,” he murmurs as he places his wallet on the nightstand.
“Of course I am.” My voice is so thick I barely recognize it. When I sit up straighter and drag my nails down his stomach, he hisses between his teeth, but doesn’t stop me. “I want to be on top.”
His brows shoot up. “Your ankle—”
“Can handle it,” I tell him. “Trust me.”
He pulls me to my feet, pulling me close for a long kiss before he takes my spot on the bed. He looks like every forbidden fantasy I’ve ever tried to suppress. “Molly, are you sure…”
I bite down on my lip, then draw in a long breath. “I’m done pretending I don’t want you.”
“Thank fucking God,” he murmurs.
It takes an awkward minute to shimmy out of my leggings without putting weight on my right foot. I make it work and climb onto the bed, straddling him with my good leg tucked around his hip, the other extended slightly off to the side.
He’s careful with me, his hands gentle at my thighs, but his gaze is raw.
I slowly grind against him as he grabs the wallet and pulls a condom packet from it.
“Jesus,” he groans. “You’re killing me.”
“Paybacks are hell.”
He sheaths himself, then reaches up to brush his thumbs over my nipples, and I gasp at the spark it lights in my belly. Our next kiss is wild, all teeth and tongue as I reach between us to stroke him. He’s so hard and thick, and I love how he tenses under my touch.
I lift up and then slide down onto him, and it’s like slipping into a part of myself I’ve never known before. We both freeze for a second. He’s buried inside me as I hover over him, our breathing ragged.
“Fuck, Molly,” he groans. “You feel...”
“Don’t talk,” I whisper against his mouth. “Just be here.”
I deliberately roll my hips, watching the way his jaw clenches. His eyes go half-lidded, but he lets me set the pace, even as his hands roam my body like he’s trying to memorize every curve.
I ride him like he never belonged to anyone else. Like he’s mine, and I’m not breaking every rule I set for myself.
He sits up and buries his face in my neck, and we move together. The world narrows until it’s just the two of us in this moment. My body’s already close. Years of frustration, powerlessness, and grief transformed by lust and heat and pleasure.
I finally allow myself to let go, and when Chase grazes his teeth against my fluttering pulse, I come. A wave of stardust shimmers through me, and he follows with a strangled groan, pulsing inside me as he holds me tight.
We stay tangled together, his forehead pressed to my collarbone, as sweat cools on our skin.
“You okay?” he murmurs.
“I just took what I wanted.” I smile, still breathless. “I’m more than okay.”
He kisses me, slow and sweet like a promise.
And for the first time in a long time…I feel more than okay. I feel beautiful and powerful in a way I didn’t know was possible.