by Bella Andre
Fucking, not making love.
Hot kisses, rather than sweet.
Amazingly, she knew exactly where to start. “Let’s—”
He pressed another one of those soft kisses against her lips.
“—go—”
Another kiss.
“—outside.”
That finally stopped his mind-bending onslaught and it occurred to her that he’d been trying to kiss her into submission. A gentle capitulation.
And, oh, if he did that long enough, gave her enough of those sweet kisses that stole her breath and made her heart pound with wanting...well, she could see that he just might end up drawing a promise out of her that she wasn’t ready to give.
A promise in return for pleasure.
Chase had told her he wasn’t going to give up. But she was just as firm in her position. So if he was going to try to make tonight about emotion, she was going to make sure they erred on the side of the physical.
Her resolve firmed just as he came at her with another one of those sinfully sweet kisses aimed straight at her heart. Pulling away before it could land, she led him to the French doors and out to the balcony off the bedroom. She didn’t need to hear his questions to know he was wondering what the heck she was up to.
Well, he’d just have to wait and see.
At the last second, she realized they were going to need one more thing before leaving the room. “Where are your condoms?”
Out of her peripheral vision, she could see his erection grow bigger, taller. “In my bag.”
“Get one.” She smiled at him, a smile that felt wicked and different. But not bad. Liberated. “At least one.”
His eyes narrowed, a muscle jumping in his jaw, at her command.
Another wicked smile, along with the brush of her hand across the stubble beginning to cover his jaw. “You don’t like me telling you what to do?”
“On the contrary,” he responded, his words raw and rough, “I like it a great deal.”
Darn it, she was trying to keep a handle on things here. He shouldn’t be able to turn everything on its ear with just a few words.
The night air still held some of the warmth of the day, but it was cold enough that she could feel it slide across her overheated skin. It felt good, like a splash of sense. Just enough sense to keep her purpose in place, but not enough to have her put a halt to being with Chase altogether.
When they were all the way outside, she turned back to Chase, plucking the condoms from his fingertips—he was clearly a hopeful man given the stack he’d brought out—and placing them on the rail within easy reach.
She let herself look at him for a long moment, the way he stood before her in the moonlight, utterly confident in his nudity. Of course he was. Any man—any person—this beautiful should be confident.
Her intention to keep things only physical slipping ever so slightly, she found herself saying,
“You could have anyone. Why me?”
His thumb rubbing sensuous little circles against the inside of her palm, he replied, “I knew the instant I saw you.”
“What—” She should stop this, move back to playtime. But her mouth was a traitor with another question. “What could you have possibly known?”
“Nothing,” he replied with perfect honesty. Honesty that immediately cut through any protests she might have made. “And everything.”
She didn’t understand.
Or, rather, she didn’t want to understand.
She needed to keep things simple. Black and white. That’s what their connection was. That was all it could possibly be until she had her life figured out and back on track.
“We’re good in bed together,” she told him, and then, to make sure they stayed on the purely physical track, “That night at your brother’s house, out on his porch, what did you want to do to me?”
His eyes burned into hers, a whole new level of intense. “You know exactly what I wanted to do to you.”
“Show me, Chase.”
A second later, he had her backed into the porch rail, one hand in her hair, the other on her hip.
They’d been like this enough for her to recognize the way he liked to hold her.
She liked it, too. So much. There was sizzling pleasure in his arms. But comfort found her there, too. A sense of safety that he would always hold her just right. Not too tight. Not too loosely, either.
Fortunately, his mouth descended on hers just then, sending her thoughts into flight.
She hadn’t thought he could kiss her better than he already had. Oh, how wrong she was.
This kiss was hotter, went so much deeper, was so much more dangerous than any that had come before.
She couldn’t breathe, didn’t even care that she was quickly losing her hold on reality as her sole focus centered on his mouth, to the way his tongue found her most sensitive spots, to the way his teeth knew just where to bite, just how hard to tease her. And then, oh God, he was doing just what he’d done before, running kisses across her cheek, then down to her neck, to the hollow of her collarbones.
The anticipation of what he was going to do had her trembling even before his tongue slid against her skin.
She held her breath, only to have it come gasping out as he made contact.
“Lovely, Chloe.” His seductive praise was a whisper just below her earlobe and she shivered with unrepressed delight as his teeth found her there and lightly pressed into the sensitive flesh.
“You didn’t bite me there.”
“I wanted to,” he finished.
A whimper escaped her as she realized that she was a fool to think she could lead Chase anywhere. His gentleness did not preclude his power over her emotions.
He laved the small bite before moving his attention back to her shoulders. She never would have thought that she’d be sensitive, reactive, on that part of her body.
How incredibly wrong she was.
Chase lifted his head. “Too many clothes.”
She was on the verge of opening her mouth to remind him that she was naked when it hit her: He was pretending. Pretending they were rewinding back two nights. Giving her the fantasy, per her request.
His fingertips moved to her shoulders where the silky straps of her dress had been. Slowly, deliberately, he slid those phantom straps aside. “Lift your arms for me.”
There was no reason for her to raise her arms. She didn’t have any clothes on, no dress to get off. Her breasts were already there, bared—and aroused—before Chase.
It would have been enough for her if he’d laid her down and taken her on the wooden slats of the deck, right then and there. But, oh, wasn’t it so much sweeter to play this game?
To pretend.
And to lose herself in heady anticipation.
Moving her hands and arms as if she were trying to slip free from the straps of a dress, she lifted them up and shimmied, just as she had two nights ago.
She went to lower her hands when Chase said, “Just like that.”
She waited for panic to take over, for the urge to lower her hands. He’d promised not to hold them in place again, and he was keeping to that promise. But wasn’t asking her to do it almost the same? And shouldn’t she be feeling something other than the heady warmth that was moving through her, head to toe?
“Lovely.”
He ran the fingertips of his free hand over the swell of her breasts and she arched into his touch.
One broad fingertip began slow circles around a nipple. Slowly, way too slowly, he came closer to the tightly puckered skin that was so desperate for his touch.
“Chase,” she moaned when he was right there and instead of giving her what she needed, he turned his attention to her other breast.
“Mmm?”
He didn’t look up from the torturous circles he was making on her flesh. Her arms trembled from the way she was holding them, but she didn’t lower them.
“Please,” she begged, “I need—” She bit her lip on another moan as he
came right to the edge of her nipple, then backed away and ran his finger down in the hollow between her breasts.
He paused his hand there, right in the center of her chest, where her heart was beating so hard for him, then leaned forward before she could get her brain to kick into gear, and kissed her softly.
Thoroughly.
Possessively.
The hairs on his chest teased her nipples, driving her even crazier than she already was.
And then, before she could shift or blink or beg, his mouth was covering one nipple, and she needed to lower her arms so that she could steady herself by holding on to him, so that she could grip the back of his head and hold him there— oh yes, right there! —while he gave her the pleasure she’d been craving.
Everything narrowed down onto the lash of his tongue upon her, the coiling heat inside her belly, his warm breath against her chest. Chloe lost all track of time as he laved her breasts, as he loved every inch of her torso—not just the nipples, but the curves, the hollows, the shadowy undersides, the spaces between her ribs. And then he was moving lower still, dropping to his knees, holding her waist with his large, strong hands, holding her there for him to devour.
His tongue and lips and teeth held no mercy as he destroyed her soul, knocking down her defenses one inch of skin at a time.
And then he was nudging her legs open wider, one hand covering her mound, two fingers from the other stretching her wide for him, before covering her clitoris with his mouth, and she was holding onto him for dear life, knowing she’d never live through this pleasure, that it was too big, too all-encompassing, far too sweet to be real.
To be hers.
She thought she heard the words, “You taste like heaven,” and then his tongue was going deeper, replacing his fingers inside of her, sending her rocketing off into another impossible orgasm.
Her legs began to crumple but he was already there, holding her steady.
Not letting her fall.
Later she would let herself marvel at the fact that she’d been standing stark naked at a public winery with a man’s face between her legs, crying out so loud that anyone on the property could surely hear. And had to know exactly what was going on.
But now, tonight, how could she possibly care about any of that? Not when all that mattered was pleasure.
No. That wasn’t what mattered. Not really.
It was Chase.
He was what mattered.
The thought nailed her straight in the center of her heart just as he shifted, standing up. His hands were still on her hips when he kissed her. She tasted herself on his lips, but more than that, she tasted him. Tasted his hunger. Tasted his need.
Tasted just how much he cared about her.
Loved her.
She wanted to pull away from that truth, from him, from her past, from her own fear, but even if he hadn’t chosen that moment to say, “Turn around for me, lovely girl,” even if his hands hadn’t been helping her do just that, she wouldn’t have had a chance in hell of leaving him just then.
He had her, body and soul.
And not just because of the orgasms.
Moments later, she was facing the moonlit vineyard and he was placing her hands on the rails.
“Hold on,” he said softly, seductively. “And don’t let go.”
She wanted to think he was talking about the rail, but she knew what he really meant.
He wanted her to trust him. He wanted her to believe that his love could be enough to change her life.
Tears rushed her even as her arousal spiked higher than ever before at nothing more than the sound of Chase ripping open the condom wrapper.
“You’re even more lovely like this than I knew you would be.”
She turned her head, a light breeze taking her hair with it as she looked at him over her shoulder. “Chase.”
He positioned himself at her entrance, so hot and hard she could hardly believe it. “I love you, Chloe.”
She held her breath, waiting for the moment when he drove into her, when he stretched open not just her body, but her heart, too.
But he remained still, his eyes on hers.
“Always.”
She gasped at the word, gasped again as he began to enter her.
“Forever.”
Her head fell forward, hung down as she gripped the rails and took what he was giving her, as she pushed back against him just as hard. His hands moved from her hips up over her waist as he took her, and soon, his palms were full of her aroused flesh, her nipples playing between his fingers.
Never. She’d never done anything this decadent. This depraved. This delicious.
This beautiful.
She’d made this plan to have sex—to fuck—outside to make sure things stayed purely physical.
Entirely on the surface.
It should have been impossible for them to deepen their connection while having sex standing up, out on a balcony. It should have been inconceivable that she would feel even closer to him while he had her bent over the rail with her breasts in his hands while he was thrusting hard, deep, into her.
If ever there was an act that should be just sex, it was this, a man and woman who had been perfect strangers just days ago, rutting like animals.
And yet...
Somehow it was beautiful. So beautiful that her eyes were damp.
And her heart was fuller than it had ever been.
In perfect unison, he pinched the tip of one breast at the same moment he slid the fingers of his other hand between her legs.
And she shattered.
* * *
Chase lifted Chloe into his arms and carried her back inside the bedroom. Her eyes were closed and as she blinked to try to open them, he pressed a kiss on one eyelid.
“Shhh.”
A kiss for the other.
“Time for bed.”
She snuggled in tighter to him, his exhausted sex kitten.
Again and again, she amazed him.
Humbled him.
Her playfulness, her willingness to take a risk despite her past...he wasn’t sure she realized that she was showing him all those things out on the balcony.
He knew she’d wanted to prove to him that she could play in the “just sex” big leagues. Instead, she’d trusted him—trusted herself—with something different. Daring.
Sex in the bathtub had been mind-blowing.
Sex on the balcony, watching her grip the rails so hard her knuckles turned white, watching as she gave up control and bucked against his hips to drive him deeper inside...there wasn’t a word for what that had done to him.
Well, maybe there was.
“Love.” He whispered it against her cheek, felt her stir slightly, even though she was almost out.
He would have been perfectly happy if the only place they ever had sex was in bed. Well, not perfectly happy, but the fact was, regular sex with Chloe was a million times better than crazy sex with anyone else.
Only, the truth was that Chloe was a woman who liked—who needed, who craved—adventure.
He wasn’t sure she realized it yet. But he did. And he wanted to live those adventures with her. Beside her. Within her.
He laid her down on the bed, her head upon the pillow, and when she didn’t loosen her hold on him—even half-asleep, she couldn’t fight what they had together—he slid beneath the soft sheets with her. She immediately shifted to curl against him in the way they’d slept the past two nights: her back to his front, her hips cradled against his perpetual erection. She pulled his arms around her like a blanket and settled deeper into his arms with a contented sigh.
Lovely.
His.
Chapter Thirteen
One more day.
One more night.
Chloe had twenty-four hours left to be with Chase in this fairy tale. She wanted each of those hours, those precious minutes, to last forever, knew that she would be counting them down until the buzzer rang and she left.
She needed
to leave. Because, as she’d told him last night, she needed to do this on her own.
Didn’t she?
All day, as she’d worked with everyone, as she’d gone to check on Alice and found her much improved in her hotel room, Chloe had gone around and around with it in her head.
At first, it had been easy to tell herself she needed to keep her distance from Chase because men were all evil.
Which had turned out to be completely laughable. Because while her ex was certainly unhinged, Chase didn’t have an evil bone in his body. In a million years, she’d never have thought she’d find a guy like him on the side of the road in the middle of a hailstorm, on what she’d thought was the worst night of her life.
She shouldn’t believe he could have fallen in love with her. Not in only three days.
She shouldn’t be replaying that moment when he’d said, “I love you. Always. Forever,” over and over.
Lost in her troubled thoughts, her hands stilled on the lace of the corset she was tying for Amanda.
“Do you need me to suck in tighter?”
Chloe frowned. Suck in tighter? What could Amanda possibly have to suck in? “No. You’re perfect just like that.”
Amanda looked down at herself. “I’m getting fat.”
“No!” In the back of her mind she knew she needed to back off, calm down. But she’d spent too many years listening to Dean say that to her. She couldn’t stand to hear Amanda say it about herself.
“You’re beautiful, Amanda.”
But although she could see that the girl enjoyed the compliment, she didn’t truly believe it.
As the model walked away, Chloe wanted so badly for her to believe in her own beauty. In her own worth. She wanted to save her from years of self-hatred. From bad relationships. From men who weren’t worthy of even a minute of her time...let alone years.
She felt her lover’s eyes on her and his pull was so strong that she couldn’t stop herself from staring back and suddenly wondering, yet again, was that what she was to him? Was she simply a woman he was desperate to save because he was a protector to his core?
No. She knew better than to think that. Especially when he’d never done one single thing to try and take her power away.
