by Karen Cimms
He set everything down on the deck, wrapped his arms around me, and led me to the sofa. I cried even harder.
When I’d finally settled down to soft, quiet gulps, Chase made me drink a glass of water and eat half a slice of now-cold pizza. My headache had faded, leaving me groggy and a bit disconnected, like I was floating.
“Can I do anything for you?” he asked. “Get you anything?”
I nodded. “Yeah, two shot glasses in the cabinet over the sink. There’s salt and a cutting board on the counter and knives in the drawer near the stove.”
When Chase returned and joined me on the sofa, I sliced a lime into wedges while he filled the glasses.
Before we took the first shot, I clicked his glass.
“What are we toasting?”
“I’m not sure. How about endings and beginnings?”
He nodded and raised his glass, then threw it back.
We did another shot after that one, but instead of feeling numb and disoriented, I was heating up. When he poured a third, I climbed onto his lap, straddling him. I slid the elastic from his hair and ran my fingers through the silky strands, pushing them to the side, exposing his neck. His head tipped back, and when he swallowed, I kissed the base of his throat, and licked my way up to his chin. He already tasted salty, but I sprinkled more on him, licked it off, drank my shot, and bit the lime.
While I did, he steadied me with his hand around my waist. I knew by the way he looked at me, the way his nostrils flared, and the way his breathing hitched that I had him—which was good, because I wanted him.
“Your turn,” I purred, sliding off his lap and rolling onto my back on the coffee table, a wedge of lime between my teeth. I raised my shirt and waited.
He knelt between my legs and ran his tongue from my navel up to my breasts, then sprinkled my belly with salt. When he poured the tequila into my belly button, I squealed from the cold.
He leaned forward and drew his tongue over me slowly, following the path of the salt, lapping up the tequila. He bit the lime in my mouth, then lifted me up, pulled the rind from my mouth, and kissed me like I’d only been kissed twice before.
Both times by him.
My body buzzed like a neon sign, like a plug being inserted into a socket. The sparks I’d felt the very first time we touched had ignited into something that already felt like it was burning out of control, and I was consumed. Nothing had ever felt like this before.
Nothing.
Chase’s response was more than I could’ve hoped for. I was so overwhelmed and emotional, and probably a little drunk, that I almost started to cry again. When we stopped for air, I rolled onto the floor with him, pulled his T-shirt over his head, and pushed him down.
“It’s your turn.” I worshiped the ridges of his rock-hard belly with my hands and my tongue.
We did more body shots, kissing long and slow in between, until it grew so dark in my apartment it was difficult to see.
I tried to stand without breaking our kiss and tugged him to his feet.
“I want you,” I whispered, nipping his lower lip.
“Are you sure?” he asked, kissing my neck as he did. “I think you might be drunk.”
“I’m positive. And I’m not that drunk.” I pulled back and cradled his face in my hands, feeling the scruff along his jaw, and looked into his eyes—eyes with a fire so hot, I could feel the burn. “Just please don’t hurt me. I don’t think I can stand any more hurt.”
He lifted me into his arms.
“Never,” he said, before kissing me again. “I swear, Rain, I will never hurt you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I carried Rain into her room and gently set her on the bed. It was so much like the last time I’d done this, only then she’d been asleep. Now, despite more shots of tequila than I could remember, she was wide awake. I was more than wide awake. I was wired for sound.
Of all the women I’d ever been with, I couldn’t remember ever wanting one as badly as I wanted her. I reached behind my shoulders, tugged my T-shirt over my head, and tossed it in the corner. My jeans hit the floor next.
Rain lay on her back, propped up on her elbows, watching me. When I tossed my briefs onto the rest of my things, her small pink tongue swept her bottom lip, and my dick almost smacked me in the chin.
I knelt on the edge of the bed as she sat up and removed the skimpy T-shirt she’d been wearing, and I almost cried. I’d wanted her for so long, it seemed like forever. This felt more right than just about anything I’d ever done. Or anyone I’d ever done.
She shimmied out of her yoga pants and sent them sailing across the room.
She was a vision. Tiny waist, slender arms and legs, beautiful face, blond hair falling over perfect breasts. Even her feet were gorgeous—which was where I started, planting kisses on her instep, biting her toes.
I wasn’t rushing this. I’d waited too long to have her. If I gave in to my want, it might be over in minutes. And that would be a damn shame.
When I’d kissed and licked my way up to the apex of her thighs, she squirmed beneath me. It seemed a ridiculous time to pray, but it’s what I wanted to do. Among other things. Because surely, I was as close to heaven as I’d ever been. I licked and teased my way closer, gripping her toned thighs, pushing them further apart. She pulled her knees up, dragging a foot across my back and digging in with her toes.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to taste her. I wrapped my arms around her thighs and pressed my hands gently against her belly, holding her in place. When my tongue found her center, her body stiffened and arched upward, and the low growl she emitted nearly made me come, even though my dick was nowhere near her.
I wanted to give her everything before I even thought of taking something for myself, no matter how badly I’d been craving her. Craving this very moment. I wanted to make her forget anyone before me, because without even trying, she’d made me almost forget that there had ever been any other women in my life, including the one who had almost destroyed me.
Rain writhed and moaned. Her hands gripped my hair and her nails dug into my scalp. I thought for sure I was going to lose it, but I dug in and held her until she exploded, moaning loudly, pulsing against my tongue, her body convulsing and nearly levitating out from under me.
As her orgasm faded, I ran my tongue over her gently, relishing the taste of her, the wetness, and still holding back even though I wanted to be inside her more than I’d ever wanted anything. When I felt her body begin to relax, I climbed my way up to those magnificent breasts. I captured a nipple in my mouth, teasing it with my tongue, while my hand tested the weight of her other breast, finding it as perfect as I’d expected.
She tugged on my hair, and I lifted my head, running my tongue between her breasts and up to the curve of her neck, where I nibbled gently.
“You need to be in me,” she said, her voice throaty and intoxicating on its own.
“I agree.” And without another moment’s hesitation, I buried myself deep inside her, as deep as I could go.
Her arms wrapped around me, and her hand stayed in my hair, touching, pulling, rubbing my scalp. It was so fucking sensual, I didn’t think I’d last a minute.
“Fuck me,” she moaned.
So I did. I fucked as hard as I could, because I had to. Because for months, it had been all I could think about. Because I needed her more than I needed my next breath.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I woke in the morning to an empty bed, a pounding head, and whispered giggles coming from my kitchen. I propped one eye open to find a glass of orange juice and three aspirin on my nightstand. I took them gladly, then lay back down and closed my eyes again.
From the giggling, I assumed my mother had brought Izzy home. I was disappointed not to wake up with Chase beside me, but I was used to it. Like Preston, he must have disappeared sometime during the night. I climbed out of bed, moving slowly in deference to my massive hangover. I found my robe on the floor, cinched it tightly, and h
eaded for the kitchen, ready to face my mother’s third degree.
What I found nearly tore my heart in two. Or maybe it stitched some of the broken pieces together.
Izzy stood on a chair at the counter with one of my aprons doubled over and wrapped around her, while Chase helped her measure a scoop of flour into a bowl. On the kitchen table was a tray with a coffee cup and one of my bud vases holding one lone stem that must’ve been plucked from the potted mum on the deck.
I leaned against the doorjamb. “Morning,” I croaked, still more asleep than awake.
“Mommy!” Izzy cried. “Go back to sleep! We’re making you a surprise.”
“Sorry, sorry.” I was about to ask Chase if he minded, but the smile he gave me answered that question. In fact, it melted my heart.
“Yeah, Mommy, go back to sleep,” he said.
I was desperate for coffee but I obeyed, right after I ducked into the bathroom to brush my teeth and pull my nightgown on.
Izzy was whispering noisily outside my door, so I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep.
She climbed into bed beside me and yelled “Surprise!” in my face. I tried not to grimace.
“Hey!” Chase whispered, almost as loud. “Mommy has a headache. No yelling. We don’t want her to be grumpy, right?”
I cracked one eye open. “I’m never grumpy, am I, Iz?”
She looked solemnly at Chase and shook her head.
“See?”
“Good to know.” He winked at me.
I pulled myself into a sitting position. “So what do we have here?”
“It’s a tradition,” Izzy explained as Chase set the tray on my lap.
I looked up at Chase and waited for clarification.
“I told her making chocolate chip pancakes on Sundays is a tradition for me.”
“I like tradition,” Izzy announced, snuggling in beside me.
Chase left the room and returned with a plate of pancakes for her and one for him, then settled down at the foot of the bed.
“These are great.” I hadn’t been hungry earlier, but I was suddenly ravenous. “The coffee is good too.” I took another sip, hoping he’d brewed a large pot. “You remembered how I take it?”
“Light and sweet—just like you.” His smile had me melting like the chocolate chips in my pancakes.
When Izzy finished, I gave her permission to go watch cartoons. She left the room, but leaned back inside the doorway a moment later. “Don’t forget to ask her,” she whispered loudly.
“I won’t,” he whispered back.
“Ask me what?”
“I told her I’d like to take you both fishing today but said it was up to you.”
“Fishing? She wants to go fishing?”
“Apparently. She asked me what my other traditions were, and I said sometimes on Sunday I like to go fishing. She asked if she could go too, so . . .”
“Isn’t fishing supposed to be a time for quiet reflection? Do you know how quiet a six-year-old can be? We’ll scare all the fish.”
He wrapped his hand around mine and rubbed his thumb back and forth over my skin. “I don’t care. I’d love to spend the day with both of you. If she wants to go fishing, she can scare all the fish she wants. You up for it?”
“Maybe. I’m a wee bit hungover, but I’m feeling a little better. Must be this first-class room service.”
When I finished eating, I snuggled back under the covers. Chase nestled in beside me.
I curled into his side, feeling like I belonged there, and rested my hand on his hip. “You know, when I woke up and you weren’t in bed, I figured you’d left during the night.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” he said, kissing my forehead.
“What did my mother say when she dropped Izzy off?”
“She asked if you were okay.”
“And?”
“I said I thought you would be. Then she gave me a wicked smile.”
Way to play it cool, Mom. “That sounds about right. I told you she liked you.”
“Good, and so does Izzy, I think. I’m hoping you might too.”
I focused on his blue-green eyes and stroked his cheek. “You’re definitely three for three.”
After a shower and a lot more coffee I was ready to go fishing. We stopped at Chase’s apartment so he could shower, change, and pick up his equipment. Then he insisted on stopping at Walmart for a pole for Izzy and a fishing license for me.
“I don’t need a license. I’ll just watch.”
“Do you plan to see me again after today?”
I was dumbfounded. “I hope so.”
“Then you need a license.”
He took us to a quiet spot along the north branch of the Raritan River, where he spent the better part of the afternoon unhooking my fishing line from low-hanging trees and taking tiny fish off Izzy’s Hello Kitty fishing pole. Unlike me, Izzy was experiencing an abundance of beginner’s luck.
In spite of barely getting his own line wet, Chase seemed to be having a good time. He laughed and smiled, and held Izzy in his lap when she got tired and refused to lie down on the blanket. He held my hand when he could, and kissed me just about every chance he got.
We stopped at the diner for dinner, and Izzy immediately claimed the bench seat next to Chase. “Are we having pancakes next Sunday?”
He glanced at me and smiled. “That’s up to your mommy. If she says it’s okay, then it’s okay with me.”
“Please.” She looked up at me with her big blue eyes and blinked several times. Like mother, like daughter.
Twenty-four hours ago I’d been lying in bed, drinking, and crying. Today, I had a license to fish. I couldn’t help but agree things were looking up. “We’ll see.”
“Please, Mommy. If you and Chase have another sleepover, then he can make pancakes.”
I rolled my lips together to keep from laughing and looked up at the ceiling.
Chase, however, couldn’t help himself.
“Please? We can have another sleepover.”
When I lowered my eyes, he was grinning.
“We’ll see, Iz,” I repeated. “You just be good, okay?”
He lowered his voice. “Why does she need to be good? You’re the one who should be good.”
“So should you,” I answered, teasing.
Izzy was still begging for Sunday pancakes when I tucked her in later. Then she insisted on Chase reading her a story. Listening to the peals of laughter coming from the bedroom, I wondered if she would ever be able to fall asleep, but it seemed an afternoon of fishing had worn her out. She was snoring softly by the time he came out of the bedroom and joined me on the couch.
I was tired as well, but I couldn’t help smiling.
He returned my smile. “What?”
“Where did you come from, Chase Holgate?”
He pointed toward the bedroom. “In there. I was just reading Izzy a story.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
He shrugged.
My love life had been one for the books so far. But Chase? He was exactly what I’d always wanted; what I’d dreamed about. Steady. Kind. A beautiful soul. And let’s not forget sexy as hell.
“I’m not a lucky person. And you seem too good to be true.”
“I told you I was one of the good guys, and I meant it. I’m also crazy about you. I have been since I met you. At first, it was for the obvious reasons.” He waggled his eyebrows, in case I didn’t follow. “But as I got to know you, it was because of the person you are.”
“You hardly know me.”
He slipped his arm around my shoulder, and I curled up against him. “I know that you’re a good daughter and a good friend and a great mother. You’re friendly and easygoing. You don’t take anything or anyone for granted, and you’re spontaneous. Add that to being so incredibly hot—and that you’re pretty damn good in bed—and you’re the real deal, baby.”
Although I believe he meant the last part, he said it as if he
were teasing me. His words slipped under my skin and warmed me in a way that was new and exciting. I wanted him to write them down so I could read them over and over again.
“What about me?” he asked. “Think you know me?”
I thought about what to say maybe a bit too long, because he began to look a little uncomfortable. I finally nodded.
“I’m pretty sure I do. In addition to being so incredibly handsome and just about the sexiest man I’ve ever met, you’re strong and quiet. You’re dependable but not predictable. I think you’re trustworthy and honest, kind, loving, gentle, and I think you may also be very sensitive.” He was smiling, and I kissed him several times before I finished. “I think you just might be the prize in the bottom of my Cracker Jack.”
“Cracker Jack?”
“You know how when you buy a box of Cracker Jack, it’s because you think you want the sweet, sticky popcorn and nuts, but what you really want is the prize? In order to get to it though, you have to eat all that popcorn, and before you know it, you’re sick to your stomach and miserable because you had to go through all that to get to your prize. But once you have that whistle, or tiny plastic horse, or little shoe, it’s yours, and if you want, you can keep it forever.”
He pulled me into his lap and kissed me until my lips were swollen and my cheeks burned from the scrape of his whiskers. I fumbled with his belt, but he grabbed my hand.
“Your daughter’s asleep in the next room,” he whispered.
“She’s out like a light.”
“I don’t want to take a chance.”
I stood and pulled him up behind me, then led him into the bathroom and locked the door behind us. He hoisted me up onto the counter.
“Rain,” he mumbled into my neck. “I know I’m a day late with this, but I don’t have any protection on me, and I know damn well I didn’t use any last night. We’re playing with fire here.”
“Would you stop if I told you to?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“If I need to, I will.”
The way he sighed made me laugh. “It’s okay. I’m on the pill.”
