Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
VIOLET
“ I found you something to wear.”
Chase opened the door to the bathroom a crack and reached an arm inside—an arm that held a T-shirt of his that would fit me more like a dress. I knew the shirt—it fit him snugly, a likely reason why he had chosen it for me. Dark blue in color, it was made of a fine cotton.
“Thanks,” I said shyly and took it out of his hand. I had just gotten out of his shower—a luxurious waterfall affair in his en suite bath, which I’d designed myself. I met my own gaze in the mirror as I slowly dried off my body. Today had been an incredible day, one that had to be experienced to be believed. It was amazing to think how—just twelve hours earlier—I’d been in the doldrums: nervous about my attorney being a no-show, devastated by Chase’s mysterious absence, and anxious over the outcome of the trial.
The court had adjourned at 10:30 a.m. We’d received a settlement offer from DCH before noon. The payout amount for wrongful death in California according to the Cal Fire’s policy was $2.5 million. When Katrina had told me the amount, I’d nearly fallen over. Chase had caught me when I’d swooned on my feet and taken the phone from my hand.
There was more I hadn’t been ready to deal with just then. The criminal charges against the senator. The civil suit I was entitled to file. The obstruction of justice charges against DCH. Most of that could wait for another day, though I did call the widows of the other women whose husbands had been killed and told them about the proceedings. For the first time in a long time, we’d cried together.
But that wasn’t where it ended. Our friends had done more than rally around us in the courtroom that day. They’d rallied around us after, insisting all of us come back to the Green Valley Fire Department given the unexpected turns. Not just for me and Chase, it had been a roller coaster of emotion for everyone—a secret investigation had been revealed; new information had been presented about a fire that some guys in the room had fought.
The best way to describe what happened that afternoon at the firehouse was a kind of a second mourning. It took on the feeling of a wake, complete with the newness and disbelief that came on the heels of a shocking death. Chief Carter McClure stood up to speak about Forrest and Chase, about the service their investigation had done in bringing justice not only to Todd but to the others who had died that day. Grizz Grady stood up to speak about Todd, about the man he was and about what he would have thought of this moment, about the gratitude he would have felt at his death being avenged.
Then, Forrest had spoken. Not about Todd, but about me and Chase and all the other information that had come to light that day. He spoke earnestly about his genuine belief that our union would have Todd’s blessing if it were something he could give. He talked about the man Chase was apart from Todd, and the woman and mother I’d become. He said that everyone in the room had known for years that we were perfect for each other—and had just been waiting for the two of us to figure it out.
By the time we got back to Chase’s house, we were both exhausted. Our friends’ final act of kindness was taking the kids. For the next two nights, they would spend the weekend at Tatum’s house with her twins. It was further proof that Tatum was just about the nicest person in the world. I’d apologized to her at the firehouse—told her I hadn’t meant for her to be collateral damage—told her that when I’d given her the green light for dating Chase, I hadn’t been actively deceiving her. I’d just been lying to myself.
When I emerged into his bedroom, Chase was already on the bed, looking like all of it had just caught up to him. He held out his hand to beckon me forward, and I sat.
“Sleep?” he asked.
“Sleep,” I agreed.
Then he pulled me next to him and tucked me under his arm.
The next morning was a different story. I woke up to bright, streaming light in the room, clear evidence that we’d slept for many hours. Chase felt so good, I’d drifted into a deep sleep—one so heavy, I swore I hadn’t changed positions since last night. I was a short woman and he was a tall man, but I fit perfectly in his arms. More than that, I reveled in everything that was him.
Coming to my senses meant coming into his smell. I’d very much liked using his soap in the shower. Just like I very much liked sleeping between his soft sheets, a high thread count set I’d furnished myself. They smelled like him in a different way, their silkiness an indulgent contrast to the hardness of his body.
He must have felt me rousing, because he chose that moment to pull me closer. Damn if I didn’t love the squeeze. Whatever time I hadn’t spent cursing him for being away, I’d thought of him like this. Of what we’d almost done that night in the hayloft. Of what I didn’t regret not doing then, but knew in my bones I was ready for now.
But is he?
Right now, my head was on his chest and the arm that wasn’t pinned under me was draped across. He’d worn a T-shirt of his own and loose boxers to bed. I slid the hand that sat on him toward his waistline. My face was attuned to the rise and fall of his chest—to the rhythm of the beat of his heart. The latter sped as he held his breath.
In the interests of taking things slow, I slid my hand beneath his shirt, and put my hand where it had been seconds before. We were in the same position—I’d just opted to get closer. I wanted to be skin to skin. I snuggled in a bit more and settled there for a while. Chase kissed the top of my hair. I let out a contented sigh. A minute later, I slid my hand farther up on his chest, fanning my fingers out, letting one of them graze over his nipple.
I smiled a little at the light gasp of his breath. “You trying to kill me, darlin’?” His voice was deep and rough from disuse. “I thought you were a kind woman. Thought you’d let me be content for at least a day. You keep doing that, you might send me to the great beyond.”
“At least you’ll die happy.” I finally looked up at him.
He gazed down at me softly. “That, I will.”
It was all so familiar, and yet so new. We’d just declared ourselves, but it felt like we’d been together forever.
“I haven’t done this in a long, long time,” he confessed.
“Me neither.” I stated the obvious. “If you’re not ready...”
Instead of answering, he lifted his own hand to mine. He went slowly, guiding it south of his waistline, proving to me just how ready he was. Whatever seduction game I thought I’d had a minute ago flew out the window at his touch. Chase let out a held breath the second my fingers closed around him. Feeling his hardness and his girth sent a jarring pulse through my nether regions. The playfulness I’d felt just moments ago drained from my consciousness at the same speed lust filled his eyes.
“Fuck, Vi.” He raised his hips to meet more fully with my hand. But both of us needed friction. Every part of me longed to be touched—a replay of that night in the barn, but even more. I removed my hand from him long enough to rise to my knees and remove my only scrap of clothing—the T-shirt he had lent me last night. Seeing what I was doing, he did the same, rising to his knees and shimmying off his shorts before pulling off his shirt with one hand. Though we’d been together in the dark hayloft, this was our first time seeing each other in the light of day.
He’s perfect.
I’d known he would be. It was hard to hide a body like that. He was all ripped shoulders and chiseled abs—all strong legs and a tapered waist that could have been molded from clay. Less than I’d anticipated his own perfection, I had pondered my lack thereof—my childbearing hips, the breasts that had fed my babies and seen better days. But the way he was looking at me now…I wished I could see myself through his eyes. Chase took me in with unabashed reverence and hunger.
There were things I’d thought I’d feel. Trepidation at being touched. Guilt from doing this with anyone other than Todd. But the only ones in the room were me and Chase and our incredible bond. We’d made an art of not saying how we felt, but showing each other our caring every day. This was our most sacred gesture.
He lowered his hand to cup my behind as he lowered his mouth to suck at the juncture between my shoulder and my neck—we were on our knees and his erection brushed my stomach. I felt my nipples harden as they brushed his chest. When he’d had his fill of suckling my neck, he arched me backward and let one strong arm support my weight. From there, he made his way downward doing more sucking than kissing until he had me on the mattress, laid all the way out.
During his slow descent, I’d taken my own license, reaching between us to cup his heavy sac, though I steered clear of his shaft, cautious not to go too far. It was clear in the air between us—in the vibrating hum of our bodies—it wouldn’t take much to set either one of us off.
This theory was solidly proven when he asked if he could keep going down. And then his tongue was on me and he slipped a finger inside. When he began to suck my clit with meticulous precision, it catapulted me to another place. Though I was away in my own bliss, I felt closer to him than I’d ever been. He was right there with me as he coaxed me forth.
I panted his name, and his answering hum only enhanced my pleasure. I was too far gone to try to make it last. He hummed more deeply when I bucked beneath him and grabbed a fist full of his hair. That, plus a clever stroke of his finger sent me to an ecstasy that blew my fantasies away.
I should have been boneless—exhausted—as he extricated himself from between my legs. But I didn’t want to rest.
“Can I get on top?” I whispered the first words we’d spoken in minutes. A glance at Chase’s midsection proved just what a gentleman he was. His erection stood proud, but heavy, bobbing a little as it wavered over his belly button, its tip slick.
“Fuck, yes,” he ground out in a way that spoke to his restraint. He wasted no time finding a condom and I wasted no time straddling the man and rolling it on. And then I was over him, sliding down to glory.
He had more than enough to fill me up, to create the best kind of friction inside—to touch me places I hadn’t been touched in too long.
“Chase.”
I whimpered his name, because where he had me now was ten times more sacred than the place he’d just taken me, and he was coiling me up again, making everything tighten inside me once more, as if my body was bent on holding him in her grip.
At first, he lay flat beneath me, let me set the pace. But it was good, so good, too good for me to keep up the rhythm. That’s when he sat up and changed our position—with me still on top, but him doing the work from below.
Then, he hit a different angle, one so good it hoarsened my voice. Chase stopped his movements immediately, asking me directly if I was okay. I practically begged the man to keep going, then slung an arm around his neck so he wouldn’t buck me off. It was hard and wet and all-consuming and so, so satisfying to feel him lose control and to know that I was the cause.
I could have stayed suspended there for much longer, but he ripped my second orgasm from me. His own climax was hot on its heels. For a glorious minute, we rode it out. I remained astride him as we came down, melting into kisses that became lazy, taking our sweet, sweet time before settling down.