Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Raul yawned, and Chase said, "There's a bathroom in the hall upstairs on the right. The first bedroom on the right is the one where you can crash."
Jewel paused, frowning as she asked, "Is the bed made? Sheets, towels, pillows?—"
"It's all taken care of, my Jewel. Don't worry." He tried to calm her, but he could see in her eyes that she didn't quite believe him. He hadn't had a chance to show her the house now that they were all moved in except for the things she still had at her dad's.
Raul went upstairs, his worn sneakers soft on the steps. The silence in the kitchen grew between them until Jewel took a deep, relieved breath. "There, that should do it. If it's still weeping in the morning, I'm taking you to the hospital, though."
He nodded as she fluttered around the kitchen, cleaning up while also snooping on where everything was and what supplies they had. He took the now empty glass of water to the sink, and she spun out of the pantry, nearly walking into him.
He caught her around the waist, hands on her hips, and nearly growled at her little gasp of surprise, the way her eyes widened, and her mouth opened.
"Sorry," she whispered.
"I'm not. I'm damn grateful to you, my Jewel. Let me show you how grateful," he said, dipping his head for another kiss. She stiffened in his arms, then sighed, giving in to the tension between them. Her breasts flattened against him as she pulled him tighter, and his hands went around to cup her ass.
She ripped away, her cheeks flushed as she grabbed his hand. "Not doing this here. Come on."
He grinned and let her lead him up the stairs and down the hall to the master bedroom. When she stepped through the door, she paused taking in the changes around them.
"Do you like it?" he asked as he shut the door.
The old wallpaper had been ripped down, along with the walls themselves. Landry had worked for two days last week to help fix it up, and it now still smelled faintly of the sea foam green paint on the walls. Jewel's king bed from her storage container sat to the left, flanked by her end tables.
"It's all my stuff. You did all this?" she whispered, turning to him with eyes glistening. Her lips wavered, and he clasped her hands to his chest.
"Landry helped, but I wanted everything to be perfect for you and move-in ready. This is your home now, my Jewel, and hopefully always will be."
Chase watched her carefully, his one good eye searching her face, waiting for her reaction, waiting to see if she'd run away again or accept him. Jewel's breath caught in her throat, her fingers curling into the fabric of Chase's shirt.
He groaned as her fingers dug into a forming bruise on his ribs. Her eyes widened, and she fell back on her no-nonsense bossiness.
She went to the master closet and peaked inside, saying, "Take your shirt and pants off. You're not sleeping in bloody clothes. Where are your pajamas?"
Carefully, he winced as he tugged the shirt over his head. "Don't have any. I just sleep in my underwear." She came back toward him like a moth to flame.
"Jesus," she muttered, her fingers tracing the fresh bruises blooming across his torso. "You're going to be sore for weeks."
Chase winced, both from pain and her touch. "Worth it," he mumbled. "Finally got the truth out. I—I didn't kill her. Did you hear him? It wasn't me."
He swayed and Jewel slid closer, her breath catching as she held him. "I heard. But you could have been killed."
He shoved the pants down. She sucked in a breath as he stood in front of her, bloody and bruised, but the way she looked at him made him feel like he could take on the world.
He tucked a curl behind her ear and smiled, trying to reassure her fears. "Doubtful. I've been in much worse fights and survived."
She frowned and stepped to the side, pulling back the covers. He grabbed her arm and ran his fingers up across her shoulders and down her collarbone. She paused, watching him as her eyes dilated with desire. He didn't look away from her as he dipped a finger down the v of her cleavage.
Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession and goosebumps broke out over her skin. Then he grabbed the zipper between her breasts and tugged it slowly down.
She licked her lips, both of them waiting on the edge as each slow zip echoed overly loud in the room, drawing them closer to this desperate hunger that flamed higher and higher between them. She made him hunger for so much more than what he'd thought his life would be. He never thought he'd have a woman to love, a daughter, a house, a job he loved.
What had started as a bid for mutual comfort had quickly turned to so much more for him. The only thing holding him back from admitting his feelings was the fear that she would reject him and run away yet again.
So instead, he said nothing. He fought the words that bubbled up, and when the zipper unhooked, he pushed the dress over her shoulders. It pooled at their feet, forgotten.
He stepped back, raking his gaze up and down, just taking in the glory that was this woman who had deigned to give him this small sliver of her time and attention. He was humbled, awed, so over-the-fucking-moon in love with her that he didn't know what to do with her sometimes.
But tonight… his entire world had been rocked by Andre's revelation, and he wanted more. His nerves were shot, his body hovered in the haze of pain, and he just wanted to bury himself in this jewel of the world.
She reached behind her and popped her bra, sliding it down her arms and dropping it to the floor.
Her face shifted to vulnerability as she licked her lips and said, "I—I need reminded that you're alright, that you're here and alive and?—"
His mouth watered, and the words burst forth as he grabbed his cock.
"I'm not going anywhere. Like I would ever willingly leave you for a second."
He let the words linger between them, the truth of his words sending a frisson of alarm through him that it was too much and would send her running.
"Just look at you, my Jewel. Standing there in a thong and black heels. You are more exquisite every time I see you."
Her eyes widened and her nipples pebbled. Still, he didn't touch her, just lazily stroked himself. He needed her to make the first move, show that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
He might not say the words, but he wanted to see how much she needed him. As if reading his mind, her hands slid up her sides to cup her breasts.
"Is this what you like?" she asked, rolling her nipples.
His mouth went dry, and the swell of her breasts, the way she gasped at her own touch, made him question the sanity of his own plan.
"Fuck yes, just like that, my Jewel. Get on your hands and knees on the bed. When I touch you, I'm not going to last long."
The way her pulse jumped at her throat and her breath caught told him she liked that idea. So did the way she scrambled onto the bed, shaking her round ass at him like a red flag in front of a bull.
He eased onto the bed behind her, sliding his hands up her thighs and caressing the already dripping slit. Slowly, he eased the thong down to her knees and bent his head.
He lapped at her sweet, tangy pussy, spreading her cheeks wide. "Fuck, Jewel, you taste like heaven, like ambrosia and nectar, and life itself."
Slowly he curled two fingers inside, making her back arch and her head toss, curls going wild. "Oh God, Chase, yes. Make me feel good."
He didn't wait, couldn't wait, not with everything that had happened tonight piling on. He replaced his fingers with his dick and slid inside one slow inch at a time.
She squeezed him so tight, he saw stars behind his eyelids. "Fuck, you're so tight."
She squeezed him again at the words, and he gripped her hips, holding himself as deep as he could go. "You're such a good girl, taking this dick so deep."
She gasped, tossing her head and squeezing him again. "Fuck, I think I found your kink."
She huffed. "Whatever, don't be an ass. Are you going to fuck me or?—"
He pulled out and speared inside, not stopping this time but rocking into her with hard, rough strokes that made the stars burst in his mind. Every push inside was a welcome home, her slick pussy the only prison he ever wanted to be in.
He set up a frantic, raw rhythm, and she matched him stroke for stroke. Her gasps, the way she tossed her head and buried it in the bed, the arch of her back as she gripped the blanket—it all coalesced into a pinpoint of need where their bodies joined.
His hands gripped her hips, using them for leverage as he rode her hard. She pushed back against him, her body demanding more as he murmured praise on her.
"Yes, take that dick, my Jewel. I love the way you feel, the way you squeeze me so tight. I love?—"
He groaned as she gasped, tipping over the edge and thrashing beneath him. Her body shook and her pussy clamped on him like a vise, writhing and quivering.
Hands on hips, he held still, soaking up the feel of her orgasm and trying to hold off his own. The need to explode built within him with each squeeze of her pussy. His balls tightened, and when she thrashed again, her spasm sent him over the edge. He exploded within her, flooding her and claiming her with a need so violent, it left him gasping, hunched over her back.
He stayed inside, letting her body milk him, paralyzed by the pleasure that only she had ever given him. Fuck, he'd almost admitted he loved her. Thank God, she'd orgasmed when she did.