by Hannah Ford
But the power of him was like nothing on this earth.
Her legs stretched and contracted, her heels hitting his rock-hard ass.
Chase’s stomach slapped into hers now, as he sped up, his rhythm becoming more driven, more determined.
“I want to make you wet,” he said.
“Oh God, I’m so wet,” she cried.
“More,” he said, bearing down on her now, pressing into her clit, hitting her g-spot furiously as he slid in and out more and more rapidly.
Her center was wet, full, and excited. She spread wider for him, and wider still, and then, she was gasping, gasping, crying out—as a wave of furiously intense orgasms ripped through her body, one after another.
She scratched her hands down his back, pulling him close as she locked her hips against him and allowed him to deeply penetrate her again and again while she climaxed.
As she was finishing, he groaned and his hips exploded into hers a half dozen times, and she could feel his cock expanding as he shot his semen into her, pulling out, spurting and then forcing it back into her pussy again as he filled her even more still.
“I’m coming inside you,” he said, his jaw tight, as he fucked her pussy and came like a man possessed.
She loved it. She knew it was risky, impulsive, stupid.
But she didn’t care.
She didn’t want anything but him, and him alone.
* * *
Chase held her the rest of the night, as they slept in his bed, completely nude, their bodies fitting like puzzle pieces.
Faith slept more deeply than she’d ever slept in her entire life. She awoke as Chase’s alarm went off, and he rocketed out of bed in response to it.
When he came back from the bathroom, he looked fresh and awake.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody get out of bed so fast,” she told him, laughing a little.
He shrugged. “Habit, I guess. I can’t really afford to sleep in.”
“Where are you going now?”
“Practice,” he told her.
She vaguely recalled him mentioning practice the night before. “You practice on Saturday before a game?”
He nodded, chuckling. “Sure do. Only day off for us during the season is Tuesday, and personally I still do a lot of studying game film and working out, even then. But today will be a light day—mostly just going over the game plan.”
Faith started to sit up and prepare to get dressed so she could be ready to leave with him. “I’m not as quick as you, but I promise I’ll be ready to go.”
“No,” he said, waving at her. “You go back to sleep. Relax.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look,” he said, stepping into a pair of track pants. “I’m going to practice and then I’ll come back here and pick you up.” He went to his closet and pulled out a shirt and pulled that on as he continued talking. “We stay at a hotel near the stadium tonight, but I want you to come with me.”
She stared at him open mouthed. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Unless you have other plans.” He gave her a mischievous grin.
“No, I don’t, but…I mean…is it allowed?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, it’s allowed. Some guys have wives and kids with them. I think you’ll be okay.”
She felt her belly fill with warmth as an involuntary smile overcame her. “I’d love to go with you. And what about the game tomorrow?”
“Front row seats, girl. Only the best for you.”
Chase got a duffel bag together, came and gave her a long kiss, and then ruffled her hair, as she tried to fight him off.
“Chase!” she cried out, giggling.
His strong hands tickled her ribs and then he squeezed her breasts as her nipples stiffened. “I have to warn you,” he said. “When I come back I’m going to be full of testosterone and raring to go. My energy before a big game is always high and I might need to work it out on you.”
She was already getting wet, and she grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand down between her legs. “I’m ready when you are,” she murmured into his ear.
His fingers rubbed her pussy and then he slid two fingers in deep, fucking her slit as she moaned and opened for him.
“You are ready,” he said, his voice thick with excitement.
“I’m so fucking ready. Fuck me before you go,” she begged.
“I don’t have time,” he said. “I’ll be late.”
“Fine,” she pouted, moving his hand away and closing her legs.
“Oh, so it’s like that, huh?” he said, grinning.
“Yeah.” She turned her face away, still pouting. She only half-meant it.
But then suddenly he was upon her, turning her onto her stomach on the bed, and pulling his track pants down, and sliding into her from behind. His body pressed into her as he fucked her, taking her quickly.
Already, she was coming, just from the excitement of it—the unexpectedness of his power and speed and aggressiveness.
His cock pushed into her, pulsing, spreading her as his hips smashed into her butt cheeks and the bed squeaked beneath them.
He really was aggressive and full of testosterone, she thought, as he took her from behind and his hands grabbed her hair and pulled her head back.
His lips sucked on her neck and then he pushed himself deep into her and they both climaxed together—Faith for the second time in just minutes.
“Damn,” he whispered, as he pulled out and got out of bed. “You threw me off, girl. I need to hit the road already.”
“I’m glad you took a little time to give me some attention,” she smiled at him, rolling onto her back.
He looked down at her, his eyes still inflamed with need and hunger and desire. “I gotta watch out for you,” he said. “You’re dangerous.”
Funny, she thought. That’s what I think about you.
But she just smiled. “Come back soon. I’ll be waiting.”
“You bet I will,” he grinned in return. And then he picked up his bag and headed out the door.
For some time after she heard the front door close, Faith just lay in bed smiling, like some sort of loopy maniac who’d overdosed on happy pills. And then she rolled over, pushed her face into the pillow and squealed with joy.
For a few minutes, all she could do was smile. How had this happened? How had she gotten here, in this place, with this man?
He was beyond just being the man of her dreams.
He was the man of every woman’s dreams.
Finally, she roused herself from bed and padded into the bathroom and turned on the shower, and waited for the water to warm up.
As the mirror fogged from the steam, Faith caught sight of her own grinning face and thought—I don’t look like me anymore.
The dour, unhappy, pensive expression she’d always worn was gone.
It was like a miracle. Faith hadn’t even realized just how unhappy she’d always been, until now. Only now, when she was filled with joy, had she realized the depth of her previous sadness and discontent.
Once in the hot shower, she smelled his scent. His shampoo and body wash, and she picked them up and sniffed each in turn, luxuriating in everything Chase Winters.
Oh, thank God we found each other.
She closed her eyes and grinned some more.
After washing up, she got out of the shower and dried off, then found one of his discarded t-shirts and put it on. She liked that it smelled of him, and also it fit her like a long nightgown, coming down to her thighs.
Eventually, she made her way downstairs, humming to herself, and rustled up some coffee.
As she was watching it brew, lost in thoughts about the magic of last night, there came a knock on the front door that made her jump.
“Fed Ex!” someone yelled. “Need someone to sign for this package!” The knock came again.
“Shit,” she said, and then ran by the door. “Hold on just a second!” she shouted.
Running upst
airs, she quickly put on her skirt and blouse and then ran back downstairs as fast as she could, hoping the delivery man hadn’t left. When she opened the door, she was already apologizing.
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting—“ she began, and then the man pushed through the door and past her, and she realized her error.
“Hey!” she cried out. “What are you doing?”
“Relax cupcake. Where’s my boy?” The man was tall, although not as tall as Chase. He was older, but with a cocky stride that somehow made him seem younger than he likely was. His face had deep creases around his mouth and brow.
“You need to leave,” Faith said, leaving the door standing open. “I’m going to call the police.”
The man turned and looked at her, his face wrinkling into a smile. “He isn’t here?”
“Please go. You’re trespassing,” she said, “and I’m going to run outside and have someone phone the authorities.”
“Oh, the authorities,” he said, looking down his nose at her. “Right.” He scratched his chin and spun around. “Winters!” he called out. “Where you at, baby?”
“He’s at practice.”
The man spun back to face her again. He was wearing a sleek leather jacket that was hanging open, with a t-shirt beneath and gold chains that hung down around his neck and over his upper chest. His curly brown hair was short, and his five o’clock shadow had flecks of gray in it. “My boy does have that work ethic. Always did.”
“Can you please go now?” she said, shivering, folding her arms across her chest. “Before I—“
“Call the police.” He grinned toothily. “You know, you might not want to do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” he said. “I’m an old friend of his. My name’s Boogie. Charles, actually—but everybody in Detroit knows me as Boogie.”
“Well, Boogie,” she said, trying to sound confident, “Chase never mentioned anything about you, and I don’t think he was expecting your visit.”
Boogie nodded. “Yeah, that’s true, that’s true.” He pulled a toothpick out of his jacket pocket and inserted it between his lips. “I mean, I didn’t really plan this visit in advance. I’m not one for formalities.”
Faith was getting more and more uncomfortable as Boogie stared at the inside of the house, with his droopy eyes and his eerie, confident grin like he knew all the secrets she didn’t. “I’m going to leave now,” she said, starting out the door, fully intending to call the police and Chase from somewhere safe.
Anywhere, as long as it was away from this creepy man who claimed to know Chase.
“I recommend you don’t call the police, though,” Boogie told her.
“I’m sure you would recommend that,” she retorted, as she got to the threshold.
“I mean, you and I both know our boy has a lot of baggage from the past,” he continued, casually.
Faith froze as she heard his words. “What?”
“He was a funny cat back then,” Boogie said. “Back when he used to run the streets with me. Wild kid. And I do mean wild,” Boogie said, laughing appreciatively. “Some of the shit I seen that boy do would turn your hair white.”
Faith turned and stared at him. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re even talking about. He’s never mentioned you.”
“Well now, I believe that,” Boogie said, walking over to a table and picking up a small sculpture. He nodded like an art buyer for Christie’s auction house, appreciating what he was holding. “Look at this shit. Now I know our boy didn’t buy this fancy shit himself.”
“What do you want?”
Finally, he made eye contact with her, and his eyes blazed. “I want what’s coming to me,” he told her. “And it’s been too fucking long.”
“I don’t know anything—“
“Listen…uh…what’s your name?” Boogie asked, stepping forward.
She stepped back. “I’m not telling you my name.”
“Okay, Cupcake. I’ll just call you that from now on. I like that name.” He grinned. “Me and Chase, see—we have an understanding. Now, if you run along and call the police, we both know they could show up and find out all sorts of things that our boy don’t want anybody knowing.”
Faith felt cold chills run up her spine. “Are you blackmailing him?”
His eyes didn’t waver. “We have a nice little arrangement. We’re friends, Cupcake. I took care of that boy like he was my own, and now he takes care of me.” Suddenly, his head turned and he glanced upstairs. “Let me see if he keeps the stash where I taught him.”
And then Boogie darted up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Faith gave a little yelp, but she realized soon that the man had little to no interest in her. She glanced at the wide open door.
I need to call the police.
But her phone was upstairs in the bedroom.
And by the time she got someone else to let her use their phone, and certainly by the time the police arrived—Boogie would be long gone.
Besides, he’d been right about Chase having baggage he didn’t want coming out.
This man knows things about Chase that nobody else knows.
Faith deliberated, but finally decided she at least had to see what he was doing upstairs so she could tell Chase what had happened.
Slowly, she climbed the steps and went to the master bedroom. Just as she was peeking inside, Boogie emerged from the closet holding a large stack of cash in his hand. It was more money than she’d ever seen at once in her life.
Boogie grinned, showing her his prize. “See? He always did what I taught him. And he still does. Kept the stash under the false floor in that nice closet of his.” Boogie sniffed the stack of bills and made a satisfied face. “Mmmm…smells like green, baby. Smells like freedom.” He took the cash and stuffed it into a small black satchel hanging just inside his jacket.
“You’re stealing his money,” she said, as Boogie brushed past her and down the stairs.
“This is my motherfucking money, Cupcake,” he called over his shoulder. “You just ask him.” And then he disappeared out the front door.
She came the rest of the way down and looked outside to see which direction he’d gone. But Boogie, if that was even his nickname—or Charles, if that was even his real name—had disappeared as quickly as he’d come.
Faith felt herself begin to tear up.
Only now did she realize how scared she’d been, as her entire body began violently trembling.
All of the warmth and happiness she’d been feeling earlier had been washed away in seconds by that horrible man and everything he represented.
Because what he represented, she understood now, as the cool wind whipped against her face—was reality.
She and Chase weren’t going to run off together like some fairytale couple, after all.
There was not going to be any happily ever after for them.
Chase Winters had a dark, horrible past. He’d told her a little of it, but she knew she’d only begun to scratch the surface of things.
And now, apparently, someone from his past was making visits to his present, and Faith had a terrible feeling that it was only going to get worse from here on out.
End of Book Ten
THE DEBT 11
Faith frantically tried to call Chase, leaving a message that it was very important he call her right away. And then she’d even typed “911” into text, knowing he’d likely be freaked out by the urgency of her attempts to contact him.
But what was she supposed to do?
Chase had been robbed. That man—he’d called himself Charles, Boogie, whatever—that man had taken a lot of money from Chase and Faith had done nothing to stop him.
She was still shaking, even half an hour later, as she once again peered out the window to the street, just to make sure “Boogie” wasn’t lurking nearby, waiting to do some new piece of nasty business.
Of course, he had no reason to stick around. He’d come into Chase’s hom
e and gotten what he was after.
Money.
She could still picture the man’s hooded eyes, the wariness and slyness in his gaze, and the confidence of his gait. How old had he been? He’d moved with the ease of someone still relatively young, but his beard had flecks of gray and she’d noticed deep creases around his mouth and on his forehead.
He might have been thirty-five or even fifty for all she knew. The man had frightened her with the way he’d talked knowingly of Chase’s sordid past, “running the streets.”
Faith shivered.
She partly wanted to leave Chase’s apartment and go home—go somewhere safe. But what was safe nowadays? Between Club Alpha and now this new shadowy figure who’d entered the picture, Faith wasn’t sure that she could trust anything or anyone to keep her out of harm’s way.
And to think, just a short time ago she’d been basking in the glow of hot sex and the feeling of being loved. Chase had even said he was falling in love with her.
He said he was falling in love, which should have been something to celebrate. But instead she felt only dread and fear.
Faith sat on the couch, checked her cell, and waited for Chase to call her back, while she occasionally peeked out the window, just to be sure.
As she was waiting, her phone rang. Hopeful it was Chase was finally returning her calls—she glanced down and saw her sister’s number instead.
“Shit,” she muttered, but then figured it might keep her mind off her anxiety to talk to Krissi for a minute or two. Answering the phone, Faith tried to keep her voice light. “Hey,” she said.
“Is it true?” Krissi practically shrieked in her ear.
“Ouch,” Faith said, squinting and pulling away from the phone. “Try not to burst my ear drum.”
“I can’t help it,” her sister yelled. “People sent me pics from last night and they’re either crazy good at photoshop or you’re leading a secret life.”
Faith sighed, realizing that of course the news had made its way around town by now. “It’s true,” she admitted.
“It’s true? Are you serious? Chase Winters was really with you at the bar last night,” her sister said with disbelief.
