Chapter 23 Violet #2
As Chase parks, he leans over, his voice low.
“When the kids are asleep, they usually come out to grab them and take them up to bed.” Sure enough, Austen and his wife are already coming down the front steps as soon as he switches off the engine.
Austen’s wife moves fast, her curly hair pulled into a low knot, barefoot like she’s been settling in for the night.
Austen murmurs something to her, and they split off—he goes to Chase’s side, while she opens my door with a quiet smile.
“Hey, Violet, I’m Casey,” she whispers, waving at me.
“Thanks for looking after the little monsters—we’ll meet properly another time.
” Up close, she bears a striking resemblance to Lillie, making me instantly warm to her.
“Anytime,” I whisper back. Austen gives me a quick wave as he carefully gathers Santi.
Before they disappear back to the house, Austen whispers to Chase, “Devlin said he thinks he’s found some good leads.
We’ll speak about it later.” Chase nods, patting him lightly on the back.
“Looks like I’ve got you all to myself now,” Chase murmurs, pulling me in for a kiss that gets hot and heavy way too quickly.
“Fuck, we need to get out of here before I can’t stop,” Chase murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Luckily, my house is only a ten-minute drive.”
“Your house,” I say with confusion. “I thought you had an apartment in Central Park South?”
“I do, but I also have a house here. Not many people know that.
“I guess not.” I swallow thickly, suddenly feeling way out of my comfort zone.
“Don’t look so scared, Violet. It’s only a house.
Nerves dance in my belly as we approach another magnificent driveway, entering through a high wrought-iron gate.
The gardens that line the drive are immaculate with hedges and blooms that seem almost unreal, like I’ve stepped into a luxury real estate magazine.
Obviously, Chase’s version of only a house is very different from mine.
The house’s traditional stone exterior is beautifully contrasted by the stylish modern interior.
The large glass windows are the first thing I notice; so expansive that they give the entire house an open, airy feel, like it’s blended with the outside world.
From the lounge, I gape in awe through the floor-to-ceiling glass at the outside pool, which is lit up, its water shimmering like liquid silver beneath the soft glow of the surrounding lights.
Chase sidles up behind me, resting his hands on my waist. He sweeps my hair to the side, peppering soft kisses on my neck. “We’ll have a drink out there if you like it?”
“It’s okay, I guess.” I feign indifference, fighting a grin. “I mean, you could have made it bigger.” Hell, he could have been staying here, and instead, he’s been sharing my twin bed at my shoebox apartment. The man is certifiable.
“I’ll bear that in mind for next time.” A rush of heat spreads to my core when his fingers brush under my shirt, tingles erupting where his fingers trail. “Red or white,” he breathes in my ear as I lose myself in his touch.
“Huh?”
“Wine.” I feel his smile against my shoulder.
“Oh, of course, white,” I stutter, kicking my brain back into gear. He kisses my cheek softly before sliding open the huge glass patio doors, letting in the evening breeze. “Go play while I get the drinks.”
It’s a beautiful, balmy evening as I step out, looking up at a clear sky full of stars. I head straight to the pool’s edge, rolling up my jeans so I can dangle my legs in. For this time of day, it’s surprisingly warm.
“You want to swim, Violet?” Chase reappears, setting a glass of wine beside me, and sits down.
“It’s heated,” he adds, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smile that promises nothing but trouble.
He peels his shirt over his head in one fluid motion, revealing a golden stretch of skin that gleams under the moonlight.
“W-what are you doing?” I stammer.
“Swimming with you.” His gaze holds mine as he downs his wine in one smooth swallow.
“I don’t have a swimsuit.”
His smile darkens as he works the button on his jeans loose. “You don’t need one, Violet. No one will see you here.”
I arch a brow, humor curling in my tone. “What if a helicopter flies past?”
His head rocks back with a laugh. “Then they’ll get one hell of a view of your beautiful body.
” The zipper slides down, and the jeans fall away, leaving him wearing nothing but a Rolex—and the depths of depravity swirling in his eyes.
The pool lights bathe him in a ghostly blue shimmer, tracing every cut of muscle, every perfect line.
And between his thighs—God help me—he’s thick, heavy, and already hardening beneath my gaze.
I barely register the cool spray of water as he dives in, cutting through the pool with long, powerful strokes. He circles back, pushing through the water toward me. Before I can react, his wet body surges up between my thighs.
I yelp softly, desire skipping along my skin as he presses against my jeans, soaking me through. Water glistens on his lashes as he drags a hand through his dark hair, muscles flexing on either side of me. He picks up my wineglass, curling my fingers around the stem. “Drink,” he orders.
The glass is cold against my lips, the citrusy tang sliding smoothly across my tongue. I swallow the wine in one go, but it does nothing to cool the heat licking up my spine.
The second I set the glass down, he moves.
His fingers hook into the waistband of my jeans.
“These need to come off.”
I barely register his words before he pushes me back, unzipping my jeans and rolling them down. He pulls me upright again, his mouth hovering close enough to steal the breath from my lungs. “Arms up.”
I shiver as my damp t-shirt slides over my head, leaving me in a black lace bra and thong.
His gaze sweeps over me before a rough breath escapes him. “Fuck, Violet. So sexy.”
His hands trace my waist like he’s committing every curve to memory. “Maybe you should leave these on.”
He eases me back until I’m stretched along the pool’s edge, the cool stone beneath me a sharp contrast to the heat in his gaze.
Lifting one leg, he presses a soft, lingering kiss to the inside of my calf, his lips warm against damp skin.
Then, with a slow sweep of his hand, he scoops up water and lets it trickle over me in a teasing line, pausing over my nipples, then lower, letting the stream glide across the lace between my thighs.
“You like this?” he murmurs, a seductive purr at my ear. I nod, biting back a moan. He lifts me back up and curls my legs around his hips, his palm gliding between my thighs, right where I’m aching for more. His touch is teasing, barely there, just enough to make me arch against him.
“Want me to take off your panties?” he goes on, thumb sliding higher, circling my clit in slow, devastating strokes. “Eat your pretty pussy until you scream?”
“God, yes.” A low moan slips free when he presses just right.
“What if I suck your nipples? Would you like that?” He blows a soft breath over one, smirking when I shudder in frustration. “I bet you’d love it if I fucked you, Violet. I bet you’re aching to come for me.”
I whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders.
His hard cock glistens in the blue ripples of light. I reach for him, but he catches my wrist, holding it firm. His other hand comes up to my throat, thumb brushing the flutter of my pulse.
“Such a shame,” he muses, his voice rough. “That we’re just friends.”
Hell, I knew he wouldn’t let the friends thing go. He’s far too possessive for that. The beginnings of an eye roll form—quickly fading when he grabs my waist and spins me around, palms braced against the pool edge.
He nips at my neck, his hand stroking across my midriff.
“This the kind of thing friends do?”
A soft curse escapes him as he rolls my thong down, fingers grazing my ass, teeth scraping my shoulder.
“Answer me, Violet.”
The sheer dominance in his tone has me scrambling for an answer.
“No,” I gasp, trembling as his cock glides between my thighs, brushing my clit with agonizing slowness.
“Shall I stop then?” he taunts, keeping just shy of where I need him most.
“No. Don’t stop,” I plead, tilting my hips back against him.
He nips my jaw, his breath grazing my ear. Hot and smug.
“If we’re not just friends, you’re gonna have to convince me.”
The slick head of his cock nudges right where I want him.
“Right now would be a good time.”
“Mmmmmm, fuck,” I groan as he bends me over, his thumb sliding up to find the opening of my ass, dipping in gently in a way that makes me scream.
“I’m still waiting,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to make me curse him silently.
“God, no.” My voice is ragged, breathless. “We are absolutely, one hundred percent not fucking friends.” A shaky laugh slips out. “In fact, I might hate you right now.”
A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Yeah?”
He loops an arm around my waist, lifting me just enough to slide into me with agonizing slowness.
“You can hate me, Violet,” he growls, “while you’re screaming my fucking name.”
A needy whimper slips from my lips as his hand curves around my throat, tilting my head back until his mouth grazes my cheek.
“Say it,” he snarls, voice wicked against my skin. “Tell me what you need — or I’ll keep you right here, wet and aching.”
I’m shaking now, thighs trembling from holding back everything building inside me.
“I need you to fuck me,” I whisper, the words hoarse and trembling. “Please.”
“Good girl.”
Water slaps softly against the edge of the pool as he drives into me, giving me exactly what I need, the sweet friction lighting me up from the inside out.
His hips roll smooth and deep, savoring each thrust before urgency takes over.
He fucks me harder, faster until his balls slap my ass with every pump.
His abs graze the base of my spine, his carnal grunts hot against my ear.
“Can you feel it, Violet?” he pants. “What you fucking do to me? Can you feel how hard I am for you?”
“Yes,” I moan, losing myself in every jerk of his body as though he can’t get deep enough.
“It doesn’t matter how many times we fuck, Violet,” he groans, thrusting with brutal need, “it’ll never be enough.”
His muscles flex against me as he slams into me again and again, the water spraying against our heated skin.
His fingers find my ass again, teasing the tight hole until I’m tingling all over.
A deep, raspy moan tears through me, and I splinter, coming hard, my cries muffled by the sound of the pool splashing around us.
He’s right there with me, slamming into me once, twice, before he comes with a sharp hiss, pulsing inside me as he wraps his arms tight around my waist.
We stay like that for a moment, tangled and breathless, the air thick with steam and chlorine and something that feels dangerously close to real.
His lips caress my shoulders and neck, his thumb rolling my clit, drawing out the aftershocks until I’m crying out all over again, a shock of heat flooding me.
As the haze lifts, he spins me around, feathering a soft, lingering kiss against my lips, just as the distant hum of a low-flying aircraft cuts through the night sky.
My gaze flicks upward before snapping back to him with a smile.
“I knew it,” I say as we both collapse into a deep belly laugh.
“Yeah,” he says, his broad grin infectious. “The lengths people go to see some action.”
I yelp as he lunges, sweeping me into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist. “Come on, Violet,” he murmurs, carrying me out of the pool like he has no intention of ever letting me go.
“Shower time.” He smirks as he walks through the glass doors back through the house towards the sweeping staircase. “And then we can order food.”
“Fried chicken?” I arch a brow hopefully.
He answers with a kiss. “Anything you want.”
You forever drifts through my mind unbidden, but I shove it aside—because for now, fried chicken will have to do.