by Bella Andre
She knew she should just keep her eyes closed. Because when she made the mistake of opening them again to be brave and look him in the eye, what she saw on his face made it impossible for her to tell the difference between his desire and his sweetness.
How could she when they were both wrapped up in one far-too-gorgeous package?
Oh God.
She’d been so stunned by seeing him standing in the doorway that she’d completely forgotten the name that had passed her lips as she was coming.
She gulped. Hard.
Knowing there was only one way to play it, she said with far more bravado than she actually possessed, “I know a lot of Chases, by the way.”
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching with an obvious urge to grin. “Really?”
He held her there in that half-smile for longer than was fair. Especially when both of them knew she’d likely never met a Chase before in her life.
“People usually tell me it’s a pretty uncommon name.”
Well, what was she going to say to that? But now that the initial stab of mortification and surprise had passed, Chloe became even more aware of the position she was in.
Whatever Chase’s mother had taught him, she’d clearly forgotten the lesson on leaving a naked girl alone to regain her composure. Because instead of letting her get out of the tub and get dressed in peace, he let his appreciative gaze flicker up and down her bare skin.
Her hands itched to cover herself up more, but even though the naked girl on his bed had been a good thirty pounds thinner than Chloe, why did she have to be ashamed of her curves?
She’d been told one too many times by one certain person that she needed to lose weight. She was never going to diet again. Not for anyone. She was keeping her muscles and curves, thank you very much.
Throwing on that cloak of bravado again, she said, “I’m still naked here, you know.”
“You certainly are,” he stated, his pleasure at her naked state clear and up front.
Why wasn’t she more irritated with him?
Or, more to the point, why wasn’t she scared?
He was big. Way bigger than she was. His hands could do incredible damage to her. Not to mention other parts of his body that could hurt her.
And yet…she wasn’t afraid of him. At first, she’d been wary about getting into his car, but then, when he’d started talking about his family, that wariness had disappeared. She’d tried to force it to reappear in the kitchen when he’d insisted on looking at her cheek, but the truth was, she hadn’t been running because she was afraid he’d hurt her.
No, she’d wanted to run because of a different kind of fear entirely.
She’d been frightened of her response to him. Of how strong—and immediate—it was.
And now, here she was, naked and wet in rapidly cooling water, still feeling that response. More than ever, in fact.
Irritated with herself for this strange weakness, and with Chase for being such an obstinate guy, she said with no small measure of sarcasm, “You don’t take a hint very well, do you?”
He grinned, a beautiful smile that did funny things to her stomach. “I’m better with direct requests.”
“Get out.”
He grinned again, a good solid laugh coming alongside it. “Want a towel first?”
“So by better you meant terrible?”
His response was to move farther into the room rather than out of it. He pulled a thick, plush towel off the heated rack. “Here you go.”
He held out the towel just far enough away that she’d have to stand up, step out of the tub, and walk over to him to reach it.
Stalling, still trying to figure out just why she was going along with this crazy game the two of them were playing with each other, she said, “So what happened to the other naked girl? Still waiting for a three-way?”
“I sent her home.”
Deciding there weren't a whole lot of reasons left to hold back her sassy mouth, she made a little face and let loose with, “Poor thing. Was she disappointed by how fast you got off?”
A muffled laugh came from Chase. “I’m afraid this wasn’t her lucky night. She found her clothes and left right after you did.”
Hmm. Well, that was surprising. She didn’t know many men who could send home a beautiful naked woman without first taking what was offered.
Why wasn’t he leaving her alone, too?
And, more to the point, why didn’t she want him to?
Both of them knew that if she started screaming, that if she really wanted him to go, he’d go.
Instead, they were playing this little game.
A game she was having way too much fun with.
So much fun, in fact, that if it went on much longer she was bound to do something really stupid.
Really, really stupid.
No.
She was done with stupid. Her marriage had been made entirely of it, after all. And look what that had gotten her. A big, ugly bruise on her face, her car in a ditch…while she hid out in a stranger’s house and tried to ignore the fact that she still needed to figure out how to deal with it all.
The frustrating thought had her forgetting all about the game she and Chase were playing, just long enough that she stood up to grab the towel before she realized what she’d done.
Stunned, she stood before him, shockingly aware of each bead of water as it slid across her skin and back down into the tub.
Chase’s green eyes dilated almost to black as he looked at her. “My God, you’re lovely, Chloe.”
She wasn’t sure he was aware that he’d said the words aloud, but the reverence in them shook her. No one had ever looked at her like that, like he’d never seen anyone or anything quite so pretty.
No. Not pretty.
Lovely.
Maybe it was the power of that one word, when up until now she’d only ever heard hot and sexy, that kept her standing there, still naked and dripping.
Waiting.
Anticipating.
Wanting.
She knew exactly what was going to come next, could practically choreograph what every single guy on earth would do in this situation. Chase was going to grab her. Fuck her. And she would probably come for him even though she didn’t really want to, deep down in her heart. In the morning she’d hate him for taking advantage of her body when her heart wasn’t at all in it. But, mostly, she’d end up hating herself.
Only, as the seconds ticked by in time with the overly loud beating of her heart, even though Chase clearly wanted nothing more than to rip off his jeans and join her in the tub, he didn’t. Even though they both knew he was big enough and strong enough to be inside of her before she took her next breath, he didn’t so much as move an inch closer.
Chloe couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t given him permission to touch her. And, amazingly, he wasn’t taking it anyway, wasn’t taking whatever he could from her just because he was bigger and stronger than she was.
A sharp pang landed right behind her breastbone, right in the center of that heart that had been so bruised and battered.
Was it possible that, for the first time in her life, she’d actually met a man who wouldn’t ever touch her, who wouldn’t even try to make a move...unless she let him? Was it actually possible that despite the intense desire in his dilated pupils and the way the muscles in his jaw were jumping at the self-control he was using to remain right where he was, Chase would never lay a hand—or his lips—on her unless she outright asked him to touch her? Could it be possible that he’d never press his lips against hers unless she begged him to kiss her, until she was ready and desperate for his touch, for his lovemaking?
Visions of that desperation shouldn’t be so clear to her, shouldn’t already be running through her mind like a sexy videotape. But they were so ridiculously clear—and potent—that it took every ounce of self-control she had to force herself to shove them away before pushing the words from her heaving lungs.
“I’ll
take that towel now, thanks.”
There’d never been a less sexy statement said between a man and woman.
So then, why did she suddenly feel so breathless?
* * *
Holy hell.
Chase had done his fair share of crazy shit, been party to plenty of acrobatic sex sessions full of writhing, naked, perfect bodies.
But none of those nights had anything on seeing Chloe come in the bathtub.
And there wasn’t a single model’s body that had an ounce of the sensuality that infused every cell on Chloe’s lovely naked body.
Looking down, he realized the towel was actually shaking in his hands.
Chase worked to calm himself the fuck down. He shouldn’t have stayed in the bathroom. He knew that.
But he hadn’t been able to help himself. And he didn’t think she had really wanted him to leave, either.
Still, some small voice of rational thought told him he should give her the towel before she dried all on her own. He held the towel out to her and she tugged on it before lifting her eyes to his.
“Hotstuff?” He watched surprise register in her face at what she’d called him.
Hotstuff.
“You’re talking to me, right?” he asked, glad to see her give him another one of those beautiful smiles that practically knocked him over.
“It’s a good nickname, don’t you think?” Before he could answer, she reminded him, “You need to let go of the towel.”
Crap, he knew that. But, hell, he wasn’t sure he could remember how to say his own name right now. So how was he supposed to get his brain to work enough to unwrap his fingers from the cotton?
“Sorry.” And he really was sorry, especially when she quickly wrapped the large towel around herself.
“That bathtub is really great.”
He was pretty sure he looked like an idiot standing there unable to respond. He’d accidentally watched her give herself what looked to be a really great orgasm and all she had to say was that the bathtub was great?
“I’m not sure the bathtub had anything to do with it,” he finally said.
He loved the sound of her laughter, loved the fact that it sounded less and less rusty every time he heard it.
She shrugged as she walked past him, tucking the towel into place between her incredible breasts. “A guy should never underestimate the power of a well-placed jet,” was her response as she walked up to the mirror and began finger-combing her hair.
When he just continued to stand there and watch her from behind, she raised an eyebrow in the mirror. “I’m sure you’re tired.”
Fuck no. He wasn’t tired. He was horny. As horny as he’d ever been.
“I don’t need much sleep.”
She nodded, turned to face him. “Well, I do.” With that, she walked out of the bathroom and to the door that led out to the hallway. “Good night.”
He dutifully headed to the door, long after he should already have been on his way. “Good night.”
Despite the fact that his cock was still raging in his jeans, as he walked past her, the kiss he wanted to give her wasn’t one that would have her begging him for another orgasm.
No, what he really wanted to do was press a kiss to her forehead. He wanted to give her a gentle kiss that would let her know she was safe with him.
That she would always be safe with him.
But he hadn’t earned that kiss and instinctively knew better than to take anything from her that she hadn’t offered.
He was halfway down the hall when he heard her say, “Hotstuff?”
Grinning again at the nickname she’d given him—that had to be good, right?—he turned around. “Yes?”
Despite the nickname, she looked serious again. Really, really serious. “Thank you. For everything you did tonight.”
His chest squeezed at her heartfelt words. And at the Thank you for everything you didn’t do that she wasn’t saying, silent words that rang out just as clearly as the words she’d said aloud.
“You don’t have to leave here and go to your brother’s house. I think I’ll be okay with you at the end of the hall rather than on the other side of the winery.”
Hoping that meant she actually felt safer with him in the house, rather than gone completely, he said, “Sleep well.”
“I think I actually will.”
And then her door closed and he stood staring at the place she’d been standing for a long while.
Chase Sullivan hadn’t realized that tonight his life was going to change forever.
But it just had.
And, amazingly—shockingly—he wasn’t the least bit interested in fighting that change. Instead, he was gearing up for a different fight altogether…for Chloe’s heart.
Chapter Five
Chloe woke up warm and well rested. Oh, she’d missed beds like this—pillow-top mattresses with soft, silky sheets and thick duvets that were light and yet perfectly warm all at the same time. Still, becoming her own person again these past six months since filing for divorce, even if it meant she’d been sleeping on cheap, scratchy sheets and a rock-hard single bed, had been better than soft beds and fancy shoes.
That urgency to start running again tried to steal through her, but for the moment she was just too darn comfortable to do more than stretch and snuggle down deeper beneath the covers. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but despite how nice it was to lie in the middle of a big bed like a lump of lazy, rather than rush off to the diner she’d been working in these past months to serve a bunch of ass-pinchers greasy eggs, she just couldn’t nod off. Not when thoughts of Chase kept sliding in, one after the other, insidiously sweet.
And hot.
She’d crawled naked between the sheets the previous night, so exhausted that she immediately fell asleep. But in the light of the morning that was now streaming in through the sheer curtains at the window, she remembered—in vivid, Technicolor detail—just what she’d done in the bathroom.
Just what he’d seen.
She instinctively covered her cheeks as they grew hot.
She wouldn’t beat up on herself for masturbating in the delicious tub. She wouldn’t even call herself out for the way his name landed on her lips as she came. And there really was no point in being angry with him for walking in on her “private time,” not when the only reason he'd come looking for her was because he’d clearly been worried about her. He hadn’t been hoping to catch her with her hand between her legs.
But what had come after—the fact that she hadn’t flat-out insisted he leave the bathroom, the way they’d teased each other, the fact that she’d actually called him Hotstuff to his face—she could hardly believe any of it had happened.
And yet, despite the way her stomach clenched as she tried to force those memories away, the small spot of warmth that had settled in behind her breastbone before she fell asleep remained.
All because Chase hadn’t come at her. He hadn’t frightened her. Or tried to dominate her in any way.
Some women, she knew, liked that sort of thing. They found it exciting to have their power taken away. Once upon a time, she’d been tantalized by fantasies of being held down. Of being bound.
Of being helpless in her passion, of the idea of being able to let go completely with a man who loved her.
She couldn’t imagine ever feeling that way now. No, she’d never let anyone take her power away ever again. And Chloe couldn’t see one possible reason that she might be tempted to let anyone control any part of her life like that. Not a single one.
She closed her eyes, knowing she was being a coward lying here in this soft bed. She should be on the phone, calling the police, filing a report. She should have done it last night, but she’d been so spooked by the way her ex had come after her that she hadn’t been thinking about anything but getting away. Far, far away from him.
But knowing what she should do and feeling strong enough to do it were quite clearly two completely different things.
“You were good last night,” she told it like a fond lover before she headed for the bathroom.
She stood beneath the deliciously warm shower spray, feeling safe and warm, at least for a little while. She wasn’t going to hide here forever, of course. But for the rest of the day, if she could manage it without getting in anyone’s way, she’d hang out in the vineyards. Maybe even taste a little wine.
Pretend her life was normal for a while.
Normal. That sounded really nice.
Forcing back the voice inside her head that told her avoiding the inevitable would only make it harder to take care of the ugliness later, she worked to convince herself that she deserved a tiny bit of normal. Didn’t she?
After drying off and putting on her jeans and T-shirt, she ventured out into the suite.
Okay, so maybe she’d taken longer than normal drying her long straight hair. It wasn’t that she cared about looking good for Chase. It wasn’t that she was nervous about seeing him again.
Oh, who was she kidding? No one, that’s who.
The bruise on her face wasn’t going to terrify small children or anything, but it wasn’t particularly attractive, either. Add that to her well-worn jeans and T-shirt and she wasn’t anywhere near looking her best.
She took a deep breath and threw her shoulders back before rounding the corner of the hallway to where it opened up to the kitchen.
It was empty.
Disappointment reared up in her before she could shove it down. Or pretend it hadn’t been there at all.
There was a bowl of freshly cut fruit on the kitchen island, along with an array of pastries that had her empty stomach growling. She had already picked up a chocolate croissant—her favorite!—and bitten into it by the time she noticed the note tucked beside the pretty red and yellow fruit bowl.
Chloe,
Good morning. I hope you slept well. Sorry I couldn’t stay to keep you company for breakfast.
