In Deep: Chase & Emma (All In Book 1)

by Callie Harper

  “Mmmm,” I sighed. He tasted so good, salty and male and I wanted to drink him down. “Chase,” I moaned, slipping his waistband down his hips.

  “Oh, Emma.” He fisted a hand up in his hair as he lifted his head to watch my every move. I met his eyes as I slowly took his cock into my mouth. With a tortured groan, he dropped his head back, his mouth open.

  Happy it felt so good, I felt a rush of pleasure. I took my time, licking, getting his cock nice and slick and wet. I moved, bringing my body parallel to the table and positioning my hands and mouth right at the center where I had the best access.

  His hand came around to my ass. As I’d leaned over him, my legs up by his shoulders, he’d found himself an opportunity. He slid my running shorts down and I eagerly stepped out of them. Stroking my buttocks, he whispered, “spread your legs while you suck me.”

  Willingly obedient, I widened my stance as I slowly took his tip into my mouth. Sucking, swirling with my tongue, I started working him in, slowly easing him down my throat. When I felt like I might gag, I breathed deep, relaxed, and let myself feel how much I wanted it. Big as he was, I wanted to take him down so badly. I wanted to suck him so good he wouldn’t know what had happened to him, leave him as breathless and disoriented as he’d left me last night.

  “Uh, yes,” he panted, as I took him in, so wet and hot, sucking him down, then starting to work along his length. In sync with my rhythm, he started fingering my pussy, sliding his finger along where I was already nice and juicy.

  “Mmmmm,” I moaned again, working hard to suck him all the way down, my eyes watering with the effort. He was so huge. I couldn’t believe it as I felt him grow even bigger, starting to thrust down my throat. I whimpered, excited to taste his come. I wanted to swallow all of it.

  He caressed my ass, fingering my pussy, then caressing again. He brought his other hand to my hair. “That’s it, baby,” he praised me, stroking my hair as I worked so hard. “Suck it just like that. That’s so good.”

  His words made me quiver and he gave my clit a pet, letting me know he knew right where to get me, exactly how to hit my spot. Groaning, I swirled my tongue around his tip, sloppy and wet, then sucked him down as deep and hard as I could. Faster now, he started guiding me in a more urgent pace, his hand fisting in my hair, showing me how he wanted it. A slow trickle of my desire dripped down my inner thigh. It felt so good, the slight bit of pain as he gripped my hair, the way he forced me down on his huge, hard cock, how hard I had to work to take every inch of him deep down.

  “I’m close, Emma,” he bit out, his voice harsh and guttural. “I’m going to come hard.” He thrust his cock down my throat. I cupped his balls, felt them tightening, steadied myself with my fingers on his thigh, digging in. And I sucked, wet and hot, wanting it all.

  “Are you going to suck it out of me?” he demanded, thrusting two fingers deep into my pussy.

  I moaned, tilting my ass toward him, sucking him down so deep I almost didn’t think I could take it. But he held me there, his hand gripping my hair as he thrust. I could feel the orgasm rising, quivering through me as I waited for his come. I wanted it so badly, needed it shooting hot and full down my throat.

  “Suck it!” he called out, coming salty and gushing down my throat, nearly chocking me he had so much of it. But I wanted it so I worked for it, swallowing it down like a good girl, sucking and greedy. He pressed his thick thumb right at the center of my needy clit and I came apart, coming myself exactly as he shot his load down me, so hot and salty and delicious.

  I licked and sucked, giving him all the time he needed to come, emptying each and every thrust into my eager mouth. I slid my way off slowly, already missing the contact before it was even gone, giving his tip a kiss as it popped out.

  “Holy fuck,” he exclaimed, sounding shocked and out of breath. And that was something coming from an Olympic swimmer with the lung capacity of a superhero. “What the hell was that?”

  “I think I just sucked your cock.” I rested my head on his chest, smiling at him sweetly. He laughed and rested his hands on my hair, caressing me.

  “That was insane.” He shook his head from side to side, eyes closed. “I hope I didn’t get too rough with you?”

  I smiled at him shyly, remembering how good it had felt when he had pulled my hair. I was still feeling the after-effects of my orgasm. “I liked it,” I admitted.

  He groaned. “You’re trying to kill me.”

  For two people who’d both expressed reservations, we certainly hadn’t lasted very long. And we still had five days in Atlanta before Rio. We might burn down the hotel. But then, with reluctance and great effort, he pulled himself to sitting.

  “I have to go do the very last thing in the world I want to do.”

  “What’s that?” I asked, still standing there naked from the waist down. I had a feeling I’d be like that a lot with Chase over the coming couple of weeks. And hopefully long after that, too.

  “Give an interview.” He sighed, giving me a full kiss.

  “Sorry.” I apologized on behalf of the journalistic profession. Publicity wasn’t supposed to torture people.

  “Guess it’s got to be done.” He climbed off, pulling up his briefs. Such a shame to cover up something so glorious. All that hype in the press about his epic proportions? They didn’t know the half of it. “The team expects it of me. I just don’t like talking about myself to people I don’t know.”

  There it was, my in. I could open my mouth and tell him everything, that I wrote a blog myself. And if he wanted to, we could talk and I could run a story about him exactly the way he wanted. Nothing more, nothing less, I could give his adoring fans a glimpse into the amazing man he was.

  But did I? No. I pulled up my shorts and shuffled around, avoiding his eyes.

  “See you around two.” He gave me a swift kiss and was off from the arms of his friend into the clutches of the enemy. Or so he thought.

  CHAPTER 12

  Chase

  The next night I stole Emma away for dinner. We were staying at the same hotel right next door to each other, but with all the team events it felt like I barely saw her. Every meal meant a group bonding event, so even when we were in the same room it wasn’t the way I wanted it.

  So we played hookie, stealing off in my rental car to a BBQ joint I’d heard recommended by a couple of people. It didn’t sound fancy, but it did sound delicious. Emma struck me as the kind of woman who didn’t need to be taken out to fine dining with crystal and linens to enjoy herself. I hoped I was right.

  She licked her lips looking at the menu, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.

  “I had on a white top but I changed so I didn’t have to worry about getting dirty!” Her eyes gleamed as she perused the various combo plate options.

  “I promise, some night I’ll take you somewhere nicer than this,” I assured her.

  “Chase.” She reached out and took my hand. “This is right where I want to be.”

  She knew exactly what to say.

  The first basket of wings went down quick, and I kept right on going, impressing even the staff accustomed to big eaters with my speed and volume of consumption. It was messy work. I started off dabbing at myself with the napkin, but there was just no way to enjoy barbeque and stay clean.

  “You’ve got something…” She pointed to my cheek and I reached up, trying to rub off what must be a large patch. “No, right here.” With a messy, sauce-covered finger, she leaned over and smeared a long stripe of red barbeque sauce across my cheek.

  I sat back. “Oh no you didn’t.” Did she not understand who she was messing with? I’d like to introduce her to me and my competitive streak.

  “There’s a little spot…” I leaned over and coated her chin in sauce, basically using my napkin as a baster.

  “Wait, there’s something—” She got me back on my forehead, laughing, and I got her back on her cheek, until an older, stern-looking waitress came on over like a lunch lady stop
ping a food fight.

  “You two need some more wipes?” she asked, giving us the evil eye. No more messing around on her watch.

  “We’re sorry, ma’am.” I assured her, Scout’s honor, we would keep things in check.

  As she walked away, Emma leaned in, wide-eyed, “Oooh, we’re in trouble!”

  We cleaned up and made it through the rest of the meal without getting thrown out, though we did still laugh almost the whole time. Full as we were, we still decided to get ice cream cones at a neighboring shop and then take a stroll downtown. It was a hot summer night, and we focused on our dribbling ice cream before we got to talking.

  “Have you ever been to Rio before?” she asked, holding my hand. “I can’t wait to see it. I know we won’t have a ton of time for sightseeing, but I’ve only ever been out of the country once before. And that was to Cancun for spring break, so it didn’t really count.”

  “Never Rio. Closest I’ve been is Costa Rica.”

  “Ooh! What’s that like?”

  I told her a bit about the trip I’d taken when I was twenty, heading down with some college friends who were big surfers for a week. I wasn’t much on a board—that whole balance thing wasn’t happening—but swimming in the ocean and hanging out on the beach? That had been great. Plus, there had literally been monkeys hanging out of the trees.

  “After the games we should stay in Brazil and travel around,” I suggested, knowing I was testing the boundaries of our relationship.

  “Yeah?” She looked surprised by my suggestion.

  “Maybe head to the Galapagos Islands afterwards?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, I will have to get back to my real job at some point.” She looked at me, seeming excited. “But I could see if I could get more time off.”

  I squeezed her hand and gave her a smile. I knew this wasn’t just a fling for me. I still didn’t know what my plans were post-games, but I hoped she’d be in them.

  “Tori will flip out.” She shook her head, telling me about her friend who was also going to be at the games. She’d mentioned her briefly before. I guessed they’d known each other since high school.

  “You’ll be meeting one of my old friends, too.” I told her how Liam would be there, for the last few days of the swimming events.

  “How do you know him?”

  The question was simple, and I could keep the answer that way, too. I could shorten it up and just tell her we’d hung out together as kids during summer vacations. But this was Emma, and I wanted to get to know her. Which meant her also getting to know me. That shouldn’t be so hard, right?

  “So, Liam.” I threw out my napkin, all that was left of the ice cream cone. I started with when we’d met, both ten years old, me a bored kid biking around the island of Naugatuck with too much time on my hands. Liam had been out painting a fence for a retired woman who hired him to do odd jobs. One thing led to another, and I’d spent the rest of the afternoon painting the fence with him.

  “Wasn’t that a Tom Sawyer story?” she asked.

  “That’s right.” I dimly recalled reading that one in middle school. “But didn’t he trick his friends into painting the fence for him?” She nodded. “So it was like that, only Liam isn’t a jerk.”

  She laughed, and I explained how we’d quickly fallen into the habit of hanging out nearly every day, sometimes down at the firehouse with his dad, sometimes doing odd jobs, kicking it at the beach nearly every afternoon. The next summer Ian had joined us, and the following summer Jax.

  “Then, the summer we were 14?” I paused, rubbing the back of my neck, feeling itchy already and I hadn’t even started talking about it. “We all almost died.”

  She looked up, silent and listening.

  “You’ve probably heard about the accident?” It had been covered widely, though thankfully no one had picked up the whole story. But there was enough intrigue there. Journalists loved referring to my traumatic near-death experience.

  “I don’t know much about it,” she replied.

  “The four of us were on a boat and, basically, we were idiots. We got caught in a storm, where we shouldn’t have been.”

  “Why? Did you not know how to operate the boat? Hadn’t there been any warning about the storm?”

  I exhaled, heavy. In an ideal world, I’d sit right down and tell her all about it, start to finish. But I couldn’t. I’d signed a hell of a lot of papers promising not to ever do that.

  “A lot went down that night. I can’t really talk about it, but what I can say is I owe my life to Liam.”

  “Why can’t you talk about it?”

  I shook my head, regretting that I’d started. “Sorry I brought it up.”

  “No, Chase, don’t be.” She reached her hand out to mine again. There, that was better. Hand in hand again, I instantly felt lighter.

  “Anyway, you’ll meet Liam in a week,” I continued.

  “I’ll have to thank him for his good deed.”

  After more strolling and, yes, more eating by me—we passed a donut shop with a “fresh baked” sign flashing in the window—we headed back to the hotel.

  Shyly, in front of her door, she asked, “Wanna sleep over?”

  Leaning down, I agreed, “You know I do.”

  “You have to be up at six tomorrow morning,” she reminded me as I followed her inside her room. It was already past midnight.

  “I know.” Damn those Olympics and all the training that went along with them.

  “And we did have an agreement.” Now she sounded more reluctant. Was she regretting our no sex clause? That would be cool. But I didn’t want her to feel pressured.

  I took her hand and pulled her toward the bed. “We’ll just sleep tonight, Emma.”

  I went into my room to wash up and when I came back she’d changed into a T-shirt and boy shorts. Her breasts, free of her bra, pressed tantalizingly against the thin cotton. She climbed into bed and I turned out the light.

  “Let’s get some sleep,” I murmured to her, pulling her close against my body. She felt so good tucked against me, like we were made for each other.

  “Are you sure this is OK?” she asked, and I knew what she meant. Was I OK only doing this? “I know it’s kind of insane.”

  “We have all the time in the world after the games,” I reassured her, stroking her hair. She snuggled into me, her plush little round ass up against my cock. I breathed deep, inhaling her scent, nuzzling her soft hair. She made a quiet sound of contentment, a sigh as I stroked her hip.

  In the dark, under the covers, just the two of us, I did want more. And I told her. “I want to feel you come again, Emma.”

  “Oh!” She gasped, sounding a bit nervous. “Really?”

  In response, I slowly moved my hand along her hip, at the waistline of her shorts, then slipped it down. Her pussy felt so wet and hot and sweet, already slick for me. I loved that I affected her as much as she did me. I was ready for her at a moment’s notice, all the goddamned time. It about killed me to know I got her wet without even so much as a touch. My sweet Emma, so slick and slippery for me in the dark.

  “Can I make you come, Emma?” I whispered, pressed against her, starting to work her pussy. She groaned and pushed her ass back into my cock, giving herself to me. In the shadows together, the sound of her breathing, sighing, moaning filled the room. Every shudder, every hitch in her breath, the urgent sounds in the back of her throat, she surrounded my senses.

  She grew close, bucking against my finger, needing to come. With my free hand I cupped her breast, grabbing it, pinching her taut nipple. She threw her head back against my chest and I could just make out the outline of her figure, her erect nipple, my hand in and out of her pussy.

  “You’re mine, Emma,” I whispered, feeling her start to shudder. “Tell me.”

  “I’m yours, Chase,” she instantly responded, no hesitation, all eager and giving.

  “Mine,” I growled, thrusting my fingers i
n her, pressing directly on her swollen clit, demanding her orgasm. She came, full and sweet, crying out into the darkness, my name on her lips.

  Together, we slept. And we only woke up once. I’d fallen asleep with my hand still nestled between her legs. At some point in the middle of the night, things started up again. It might have been her moving against my hand, pressing against me, or it might have been my fingers circling, teasing out her pleasure. However it started, we both awakened to find her well on her way to another orgasm.

  “One more, Emma,” I whispered to her in the darkness. “One more for me, baby.”

  And she gave it to me, so slick and warm, shuddering against me and almost sobbing it felt so good. I nuzzled into her.

  “That’s it, Emma. You come so nice.” She shuddered one last time, my words coaxing even more pleasure out of her. And with a sigh, we both fell again into a deep, peaceful sleep.

  §

  “Carter! Dial it back!” I could hear the voice of one of my coaches barking at me poolside. I could even see him hustling along with his ever-present clipboard, flapping his arm along with his jaw. I got his meaning. But what he didn’t understand was that I was dialing it back.

  My pace felt effortless. I’d never felt like such a rocket in the water, as if I could swim forever. I didn’t know how to explain it, but I guess that had been the plan all along, after years of training to reach peak physical conditioning at this exact moment. All the puzzle pieces were falling into place and I felt like Superman. Or Aquaman, I guessed, that would be a more appropriate reference.

  Somehow, though, I felt like Emma had something to do with it, too. Being with her, it felt just as effortless, like we clicked into place. I’d never experienced that before. We still didn’t know each other all that well, and I knew I was at least partially if not fully to blame for that. I kept my cards close to my chest. But time would fix that. Being with her felt so right. My mind felt more at ease, more focused, less restless, even as she now occupied space in my mind.

  Funny, I’d always thought of relationships as distractions. Now that I’d met someone amazing, it didn’t feel like it was taking me off course at all. It felt like I was truly finding it for the first time.