by J. J. Scotts
“Fucking asshole!” I barked in retaliation, struggling against his hold. He had my arms pinned to my side as he continued to stroke me from the nape of my neck down to the small of my back in long, lazy caresses. I tried to twist away from him. “I’m not a goddamn cat. Get the fuck off me!”
I’d meant to snarl, but it came out more as a husky groan.
Chase chuckled quietly. “Even your protests are kind of adorable, Liam.”
“I’m not fucking adorable.” I clenched my teeth. “I’m a fucking man. And I’m older than you! Knock this shit off.”
But he didn’t. He kept stroking and massaging and cooing at me. Treating me like a goddamned frightened little girl. And heat burned in my face because I knew I’d acted like one, creeping around in the dark, jumping at noises…even screaming. But I wasn’t a scared kid. I was a grown man, and I wasn’t going to put up with this stupid game.
I flexed my shoulders, pushed out my elbows, tried to step backward – anything. But, like the night before, Chase was deceivingly stronger than he looked. His toned, sleek arms were iron bands around me, holding me to him. His solid body might as well have been a pillar of stone for all the good my struggling to get away did.
As bulky as I was, he still possessed superior strength in his big, wiry frame. I was pinned against his hard body for the second night in a row. Fuck. If only I’d stayed in my room. Who needed food anyways?
Much to my alarm and embarrassment, I felt the blood begin to drain from my face and surge down, into my groin, against my will. My shaft rose swiftly at the feel of Chase’s body pressed once again to mine. I increased my struggles, twisting and pushing, but only succeeded in rubbing myself against him, making myself harder.
My brain conjured full, vivid sensory recall of the kiss we’d shared – the kiss he’d forced on me – the night before. The hot, smooth glide of his lips against mine, the wet velvet of his tongue, the taste of whisky on his breath. The hard planes of his body pressing and sliding against me. The muscled expanse of his chest beneath my palms. The tantalizing feel of his rigid length rubbing over every engorged inch of my rod.
I shuddered in Chase’s arms, trying to pull away, angling my hips back to keep him from feeling just how aroused I’d gotten.
“Alright, Chase. That’s enough.” I tried to say it as calmly as possible – in an almost parental way. “I’m going to bed. Let me go now.” My voice was low, quiet, hoping to disguise the breathy rasp of desire in it.
“You sure?” Chase looked me in the eye, his blue eyes finding their target. “You need me to check under the bed for monsters? Tuck you in?” He was still teasing me…in more ways than one.
I swiftly diverted my eyes as I wiggled one arm free and managed to push at his shoulder, rocking him back slightly. “I’m fine!”
He countered the movement by yanking me tight against him by the hips. I stilled immediately, praying he wouldn’t notice the throbbing length of my erection against his thigh. He ceased his stroking caresses and dropped the playful tone of voice.
When he spoke again, his breath warm against my cheek, his voice was low and deep and full of dark promise. “Damn, you’re already at full attention.” He laughed inwardly. “We haven’t even done anything yet.”
My head pounded at his words, at his laugh. My heart thumped heavily against my chest. The acid in my stomach churned and heat blasted my cheeks like desert sun. He was laughing at me! Messing with me! Just like he had the night before.
Playing with me, like a toy. That seemed the more accurate comparison, given how he’d tortured me almost to the point of pain, arousing my body to a fever pitch and then leaving me like that. Helpless.
No, I wasn’t going to let this happen again. I snapped. I jerked my arms free, reeled back, and slugged him hard on the jaw. The smack of flesh on flesh was loud in the quiet apartment. He stumbled backward a few steps, but didn’t fall. His head was turned to the side, revealing the area I had just hit.
My eyes popped open and a spike of cool trepidation joined the anger and lust burning in my chest. I’d just punched Chase…in the face.
I felt the need to apologize for getting out of hand. “I –”
“Watch the scar, farm boy.” He grinned, rubbing his jaw. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin my good looks.” He turned his head back to face me.
No, this guy deserved it. There was no need to apologize. No need to act nice.
I was overwhelmed with rage and humiliation, and I felt the urge to prove myself. I lunged for him again, still not thinking clearly. The swing was sloppy and Chase easily side-stepped me, grabbing my wrist, yanking me around and tossing me down on the couch, onto my back.
Chase’s rich laughter rolled through the room like thunder. I barely had a second to blink before he was on top of me, pressing me into the leather of the couch. It was still warm from his body, seeping through the thin material of my clothes.
Above me, Chase grinned devilishly, his blue eyes burning flames. His body pinned me down, chest to chest, his narrow hips between my spread thighs. He leaned forward on his knees, angling his hips to rock himself against my hard cock.
“You’ve got some fight in you, huh? I love a challenge.”
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Table of Contents
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
