by S. R. Grey
“I’ll go get it,” Will offers helpfully.
Before anyone can reply, he is out the door.
“Hey”—I unclasp our hands and touch Chase’s arm—“are you really okay?”
His eyes meet mine. “Yeah, I’m good, babe. It’s just this house…” He shakes his head and blows out a breath.
“I know,” I acknowledge. “I know.”
Will returns with our suitcases in hand. He is all smiles now that Chase has been thrown off-course. But I know Chase will get back to interrogating Will. He’ll find out where he is stowing that gun, and he’ll get to the bottom of why Will bought the damn thing in the first place.
An hour later, Chase and I are showered and changed into jeans and tees. We’re in a guest bedroom Chase picked out. It was the first one we came to, and Will couldn’t believe he had chosen so quickly.
Confused, he said, “There are nicer rooms in the next hall over. You should check those out, bro.”
“This one is good,” Chase flatly said to his brother. “It’ll do.”
Will started to go, but then he spun around and offered to heat up macaroni and cheese he had made an hour earlier. Apparently, Will arrived just a short while before us, having taken a taxi from the bus station.
“Do you want to go down and eat?” I ask Chase.
He’s lying on the bed, prone across a downy-white coverlet. I’m in front of the dresser, brushing out my hair. Chase’s hair is a mess, still damp from his shower. He’s in need of a trim, but I haven’t said anything. He’s far too sexy with his mess of light-brown locks.
Chase’s eyes remain closed, even though I’m talking to him, but I know he’s awake.
Sure enough, he opens one eye when I take a step closer to the bed. And then, a second later, I am on the bed, pinned under his hard, unyielding strength.
Chase’s nose travels along my neck then down to my collarbone. “Now that you mention it,” he murmurs. “I am kind of hungry.”
“We should head down, then,” I reply in a whisper as kisses me senseless.
He murmurs in my ear, “What I’m hungry for is right here.” He shifts, letting me feel just what wants.
“Chase,” I groan. “I’d love to, I would, but you know we don’t have time. Will is waiting downstairs—”
My words are cut off by raw kisses that make me forget things like food, time, Will waiting downstairs.
In seconds, Chase has my jeans and panties off. He pushes up my tee, unclasping my bra. I’m almost fully exposed to him as he lowers his pants and boxer briefs just enough to free his erection.
Chase is fevered and hot, impatient in his need to have me. He pushes my legs apart and plunges into me without prelude.
“Aah,” I moan.
He moves in and out of me slowly, giving my body time to accommodate him.
And I do open for him. I grow wetter and wetter, and soon I am asking, “God, Chase, why do you always feel so good?”
Chase moves in me, pressing his body down on me. He wraps his arms around me and rasps, “It’s you who always feels so good, Kay.”
When he buries his face in my neck, I hear him almost indistinctly mumble, “I just wish I had more to give you.”
He doesn’t mean sex; I get a lot of that. In fact, I think Chase sometimes uses sex to avoid dealing with other issues—like the one obviously weighing on him today.
I tense, and he stops moving. “Hey, don’t say that,” I say into his hair. “You give me everything. You’ve given me my life back, Chase.”
Before meeting Chase, I was not living. I merely existed, until Chase showed me how to laugh and how to have fun again. He gave me love, and in doing so he taught me how to forgive myself.
“Why do you keep saying things like that?” I ask.
Chase is not moving, but he’s still inside me as he lifts his head and gazes down at me. “Because it’s true,” he says.
He pulls out of me and flops onto his back.
I roll to my side and reach for him, but I falter when he says, “Do you want to know why I think that? Why I say I wish I had more to give you so often?”
“Yes,” I say. “I want to know.”
Scrubbing his hand down his face, Chase says, “My heart belongs to you, Kay, all of it.” He sighs. “But I don’t know if that’s enough.”
“What do you mean?”
“My heart is all cut up, baby girl. Part of my heart died when my father died. And part of it is wrecked from my past.”
My own heart aches at hearing his words. I can feel his pain, his deep regret.
“My heart’s all parceled up, too,” I remind him.
He looks over at me, sadness in his blues. “There’s still more than enough for me,” he tells me.
I place my hand on his chest, right where his heart beats below. “There’s more than enough in here”—I tap his chest—“for me, too.”
“What about Will?” Chase says, his chest rising and falling, his heart beating strong beats under my hand. “I feel like loving him so much has taken love away from you.”
“Oh, Chase. You have it all wrong. Loving your brother has nothing to do with us.”
He turns his head to face me, giving me a look like I’m joking.
“Really, Kay, do you truly believe that? Because the way I see it, if it weren’t for this trouble with Will, you and I would be back in Harmony Creek right now. We’d be living and loving and enjoying all the shit we’re missing out on by being here.”
I try to find the bright spot in all of this. I want Chase to stop thinking in such a negative way.
“Will is here at the house,” I say. “He’s not out chasing Paul, like you thought he’d be. This will all be over soon and everything will be back to normal.”
“I doubt it, Kay,” Chase scoffs. “I know my brother, and this shit is far from done.”
“But you’re in Vegas now. You’ll straighten him out.”
I smile over at him, and he says sadly, “My sweet Kay, always believing in me.”
If only Chase believed in himself half as much.
I crawl over and settle on top of him. He’s not hard anymore, but that situation changes quickly when I reach down and place him at my slick core. “I’ll always believe in you,” I say.
I move, sliding down on his hardening length slowly.
“Why?” he asks, his breaths becoming more and more ragged, even as he resists the inevitable.
Leaning down, I brush my lips over his. “Because I love you…and you love me.”
“Is it enough?” he asks, pained.
“It’s going to have to be,” I murmur.
I continue to slide up and down his shaft, my movements more and more insistent until Chase has no choice but to react as nature intended.
He thrusts up into me, his fingers digging into my hips.
And then there is no more talk; there’s only the sound of our love, a love I can only hope will prove to be enough.
Chase
Will eyes us suspiciously when Kay and I finally make it downstairs for our Mac-n-Cheese dinner.
“Well, that took forever,” he snaps.
I am not amused by his belligerent attitude and tell him to zip it as Kay and I sit down at the dining room table.
“Whatever, dude,” he replies. “Like I don’t know what you were doing. I swear, you two are like rabbits.”
I shoot him a displeased look, but he hurries back in the direction of the kitchen. By the time he emerges, three steaming-hot plates of macaroni and cheese balanced precariously in his hands, my irritation dissipates. I just thank Will for the grub when he hands me my dish.
And then, as my brother places Kay’s plate of cheesy macaroni in front of her, he announces, “By the way, guys, Cassie is coming over tonight to watch a movie.”
Will takes a seat across from me and Kay, smiling smugly.
I shoot him a withering look. “Do you really think that’s a good idea, Will? I wanted to talk to you abo
ut a few things.” I take a bite of macaroni, and after I swallow and take a sip of water, I add, “Why don’t you call Cassie and tell her you’ll see her tomorrow.”
Will snorts. “Yeah, right, dude. You and I can talk tomorrow. We’re at Mom’s house now, not yours. You’re not in charge, and, around here, the rules are different.”
“No shit,” I murmur.
I’ve only been here a couple of hours and already Will is pushing my buttons. He knows damn well what I want to talk to him about. I want that fucking gun, and I want to know why he bought it from my former drug dealer in the first place. More importantly, I need to know exactly what he has planned.
But Will is a master of avoidance, much like Mom. He not only resembles our mother, with his dark-blond hair and vivid green eyes, but he thinks like her, as well. Too bad for him I’m a step ahead of that shit.
“Fine,” I say between bites. “Kay and I will watch the movie with you guys.”
Kay, who’s been quiet up to this point, says, “Yeah, a movie sounds good.” She directs her attention to Will. “What movie were you planning on watching?”
I chuckle. My girl is always backing me up. I know she is as sleepy as me, which is very sleepy, but she’ll do this for me. And she’ll do this for Will.
Dear bro, however, doesn’t see it quite that way.
“Whatever,” he grumbles. “I guess we’ll pick something out after Cass gets here.”
Cassie arrives a short while later. She and Kay, who hit it off beautifully in Ohio, hug and squeal like they haven’t seen each other in years. Will and I, in a rare moment of perfect understanding, look at each other and roll our eyes.
“Girls,” Will murmurs so only I can hear. “Talk about fucking emotional.”
“That’s for sure,” I concur.
After Kay and Cassie are done gushing about how great it is that Kay is in Las Vegas, we retire to the family room. When my eyes fall on all the state-of-the-art electronics, the plush leather furnishings, and the full bar taking up one entire wall, I mumble to myself, “This fucking house is killing me. Unbelievable.”
Yeah, I’m still coming to grips with the numerous displays of wealth. I mean, I’m happy and all that the money helps Will to live a more comfortable life. God knows this is way better than the lives we were leading before I left Vegas. Still, I think all this easily available money has spoiled my brother to some extent.
Kay leans in to me and asks for what feels like the hundredth time today, “Are you okay?”
“Just great,” I reply. When our eyes meet, however, I know she sees my resentment. I don’t want to feel this way, but I can’t help it. After our father died, what remained of our family was thrown into abject poverty. We even lived in a fucking minivan for a time.
When we finally made it to an apartment—a hovel, really—Mom was always leaving Will with me. Gambling and men were her top priorities by then. As a result, we never really got back on our feet.
But, now, Mom lives like a queen. And, yeah, it bothers me.
Kay caresses my arm. She tries to soothe me as we settle in next to Cassie and my brother on the mile-long sofa.
Will picks up the remote and scans through the movie options. “Suggestions, anyone?” he queries.
I don’t give a fuck what we watch, I think. But I don’t say a word; I’m only here to keep an eye on Will and his girlfriend. And, of course, I’m also waiting for an opportunity to talk to the little shit before this day is over.
Cassie, seated between Kay and Will, leans toward Kay and asks, “Have you ever seen ‘Bridesmaids’?”
Before Kay can respond, Will chimes in with, “Aw, come on, Cass. Don’t start with that chick flick shit. If we’re going to watch something like that, let’s go with the latest ‘Hangover’ movie.”
“I say we vote on it,” Cassie suggests.
Will grumbles an unhappy “okay.”
When I abstain from casting an opinion or a vote, “Bridesmaids” win.
Will is clearly not happy with me. From the far end of the sofa, he grumps, “Dude, I thought you had my back.”
“I always have your back,” I snap, my words laden with double-meaning.
“Yeah, just not when I actually want you to,” he volleys back.
“This is bullshit,” I mutter.
“For real,” Will scoffs. And then he acts like I’m not here, chatting with Cassie and Kay only. I’m here to save the kid from himself, and this is the thanks I get.
“You know what, Will?” I say when he continues to ignore me. “Fuck you.”
I’m being a dick, but exhaustion and frustration have left me short-fused. I lean forward, with every intention of getting up and leaving, but Kay stops me when she rests her hand on my jean-clad knee. “Chase, don’t,” she says, her voice pleading. “Just stay.”
It is obvious both Will and Cassie are listening in on our exchange, even though their eyes remain on the just-starting movie.
With reluctance, I settle back on the sofa and sigh. “This is going to be one long night.”
And I’m right—it turns out to be one long night indeed. First, the movie feels like it lasts forever. It’s funny and all—don’t get me wrong—but I just can’t get into it. My mind is on one thing only—Will. I need to talk to him before my mother and Greg return tomorrow. I absolutely want the gun in my possession, safely out of Will’s reach. He’s far too impulsive.
Cassie seems in good spirits, I take note as the movie plays. That observation leads me to assume she’s not been bothered by her perverted stepdad since the last time he harassed her. Still, I wish Kay could get Cassie alone for a few minutes. Cassie trusts Kay and confides in her. I’m sure my girl would have more info in ten minutes than if I spent a whole day talking with my evasive brother.
But there’s no time for talking of any kind. After the movie is over, Cassie stands up, grabs her purse, and announces she has to go.
Will immediately jumps up and offers to walk her to her car.
And then they’re gone.
“Great,” I say on a long sigh.
“Maybe you can talk to Will when he comes back in,” Kay offers.
I scrub my hand down my face. “Yeah, maybe.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m just tired, is all.”
“Would you rather come up to bed with me?” Kay wants to know. “You can talk with Will in the morning. What time are your mom and Greg due back in town?”
“Sometime in the afternoon,” I tell her and then, sighing, I add, “Look, I’m going to wait for Will, babe. Just go on upstairs without me.”
Kay reluctantly stands to go, but I can’t let her leave just yet.
I stand up next to her, my body towering over her tiny form. I love Kay’s smallness. I love that her body appears so fragile, but it’s actually Goddamn strong. She accepts whatever I give her, be it physically or emotionally. We’ve had our ups and downs, and not just under the covers.
But under the covers is all I can think of at the moment. I’m mostly gentle with Kay, with that delicate frame, but I can fuck her hard and she loves it.
Jesus, I’d like to fuck her hard right now, just to take out all the frustration I’m feeling.
“Hey”—she nudges my thigh with her hip—“what are you thinking about?”
Raising an eyebrow in a suggestive manner, I say, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
She says my name, leaning her forehead on my chest. I feel her breathing me in. It’s just another way this woman consumes me. I place my hand under her chin, nudging lightly until she’s looking up at me. Lowering my lips to hers, I shower her in kisses—wet, raw, passionate kisses with the promise of much, much more.
When both of us are practically panting, we break apart.
“I better go upstairs,” she says in a low voice.
Wanton lust darkens her eyes, and I palm her ass with my large hand, giving her a quick squeeze. “I’ll be up in a little while,” I assure h
er.
Kay leaves, giving me time to simmer down. Pacing the floor helps. And then, a few minutes later, when Will returns to the family room, I am fine.
I’m kind of surprised he has returned, and I let out a cough.
“What?” he says. “Did you think you were going to have to hunt me down?”
“I kind of did think exactly that.” I admit.
He snorts, “This house ain’t that big, bro.”
He’s right about that; I’d find him no matter what.
Will and I start to sit down on the sofa at the same time, which makes him laugh. “Go ahead,” he says, smiling.
I sit and he follows. Will is still smiling, but that shit turns to a frown when I say, “Will, a gun? Really? What the fuck were you thinking?”
I expect an argument, an epic one, so I gear up accordingly. But surprisingly I get no grief. Instead, Will says resignedly, “I’ll give you the damn thing if it’ll make you quit nagging me about it.”
Before I can even reply—which would be a hell, yes—he jumps up and leaves the room, tossing over his shoulder before he’s out of sight, “Don’t worry. I’m coming right back.”
I’m rather stunned Will is giving up so easily. This is so not like my brother.
He returns in mere minutes, a revolver in his hand. “It’s not loaded,” he says as he hands the gun to me, butt-first.
I look over the pistol. Hmm, it appears to be an Old West collector’s revolver.
“You got this from Kyle Tanner?” I ask, suspicious.
“Yep, that’s what he sold me.”
Will glances away, and I wonder: Is this really the right gun? I can’t imagine drug-addled Tanner dealing in nineteenth-century weaponry. But then again, he may have stolen it from somewhere before he sold it to Will.
Whatever the case, something feels off.
Nonetheless, I say to Will, “Okay. Well, thanks for turning it over to me.”
“I wasn’t going to do anything crazy with it, anyway,” Will declares. “I bought it to keep with me for when I was with Cassie. Figured if Paul showed up, and I brandished that”—he nods to the gun—“it might scare him away for good.”
