by Shen, L. J.
Slowly, I peeled the blanket from my body and slid my feet into my slippers. It was hot and humid, and I wore nothing but a white satin chemise.
I skated to the hallway, then rapped on Ethan’s door. A gruff sound came from behind it. “Come in.”
I stepped inside. The room was bathed in darkness. The outline of his body under the covers moved as he rearranged his frame, sitting up.
“Are you up?” I whispered.
“Yeah. You too, huh?”
I nodded. “Can we talk?”
“It’s been long overdue, don’t you think?”
I sat on the edge of his bed, twisting my fingers together in my lap. His head was pressed against the headboard. I felt his gaze on my silhouette. Thank God we were in the dark.
“Ethan, I—”
“I know.” He cut me off, rubbing at his forehead. “Just . . . don’t. Don’t finish that sentence. I think I always knew. You were never really mine. I learned to accept that to a certain degree. I continued my steady hookup with Natalie, thinking if I kept my heart out of the race, maybe it would stay at arm’s length. I thought it was a matter of time before Chase would screw it all up again and you’d come running back to my open arms. I kept waiting for you to step back from the Black fog, but he just kept sucking you in. The truth is, Maddie, it’s not just that we’re over. We’ve never really begun.”
“I wanted us to be a thing,” I said. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, falling on the bare skin of my thighs. I didn’t know why I was so upset. “You’re perfect, Ethan.”
“Please don’t say that. It’s what all my girlfriends said in high school.” He sighed tiredly. “Perfect is boring.”
I shook my head, pressing my knuckles to the sides of my eyes, drying the tears. “No, it’s not. But perfect and broken do not coexist. Broken needs another broken to become whole. I have more issues than Vogue. I never really got over my mother’s death, and . . . and . . . I have this compulsive need to please everybody. Which is why we’re both here having this conversation.” I motioned around us with a wave of a hand.
He laughed, sitting up fully now to be next to me. Thigh to thigh. “I’ve a feeling Chase is the definition of broken.” Ethan sighed. “You’re a good match.”
I smiled sadly. “Lucky me, huh?”
“Unlucky me,” Ethan countered. I swatted his arm. He was grinning in the dark. The atmosphere was shifting into something lighter. I wanted to keep it that way.
“Hey, can I ask you a question? Kind of personal, but I always wanted to know and will never get to find out.” I nudged his knee with mine.
“Lay it on me.”
“What’s your favorite position?” I scrunched my nose. “Like . . . sexually.”
“Missionary,” he said. “Definitely missionary.”
I smiled. Damn you, Chase. The arrogant jerk never got it wrong.
Ethan tucked his hands between his legs, nudging me with one of them. “Hey, do you think things would be different if he wasn’t still in the picture?”
I mulled his question over for a few seconds. Honesty was the least I could give Ethan after everything we’d been through in our short, unconsummated relationship.
“No,” I said finally. “You’re a fully formed person, and I . . . I don’t think I ever will be. I think there’s a part of me still floating in the universe, searching for my mother.” I stopped, frowning as I realized something. “Maybe that’s why I’ve always been so obsessed with weddings. I’ve been hoping to find that something in someone else. Subconsciously. But I need to find it in myself.”
“For what it’s worth”—his lips found my temple, hovering over it as he spoke—“you are the best half person I’ve ever met, Maddie Goldbloom. Imperfections and all.”
By the time I left Ethan’s bedroom, dawn was breaking over the horizon. The dark morphed from velvet into powder blue through the high windows. I stumbled out to the hallway, heading for the kitchen to get a glass of water. My mind was still buzzing with the realization I needed to find my missing piece in myself.
I was almost at the end of the hallway when Chase came out of his room. He wore gray sweatpants and those Kanye West–type sneakers that looked like expensive spaceships. He was bare chested and ready for an outside jog. His hair was a mess, his eyes bloodshot, though I was getting used to Exhausted Chase. It was somehow even sexier than Regular Chase.
Our gazes tangled in the unlit hallway.
His eyes dragged to Ethan’s door, then back to mine. He popped an eyebrow in question. I shook my head. A barely visible gesture.
Nothing happened.
He caught it. His throat bobbed. A bubble of excitement swelled in my chest.
Beat.
Swelling.
Beat.
Swelling.
Beat.
The bubble popped when Chase pounced on me, his lips crashing down on mine with hunger that stunned me. There was nothing calculated, cold, or in control about that kiss. My back slammed against the wall with a loud thud, but I couldn’t feel anything other than his tongue invading my mouth and his hands climbing up my thighs under my chemise, tracing the outline of my panties teasingly. When he found the wet patch of fabric at the center of my panties, he groaned into our kiss, squeezing his eyes shut as if experiencing something painful.
I snaked a hand between us and did what I’d wanted to do for weeks. Ran my fingers along his rock-hard abs, fingering the coarse happy trail of hair under his belly button until I found the outline of the part of him I’d always missed and never hated.
Chase grabbed my ass and hoisted me up so my legs wrapped around his waist while I was propped against the wall. He captured my jaw, extending my neck to kiss me more deeply. No. What we were doing wasn’t kissing. He fucked my mouth ruthlessly, and I clenched against nothing, feeling my thighs locking in on his narrow waist with need.
“Bed,” I groaned into our kiss.
“Not gonna try to talk you out of it,” he groaned, his lips still not disconnecting from mine as he carried me back to his room and kicked the door shut. He was still kissing me when he toed his sneakers off. Then his lips dragged down my neck as he lowered me onto his bed, which was full of delicious Chase smell—of pine and rain and a dark forest where magical things happened. I felt so unexpectedly content that happy tears clung to my lashes.
“Chase,” I moaned.
His hands ran up the sides of my thighs, hitching the thin fabric of my chemise up. His fingers danced on my skin—was he shaking?—with barely restrained urgency.
“Chase,” I croaked again, desperate.
His mouth reluctantly unlatched from mine. He examined me warily. He thought I was going to stop it. To change my mind. Our hearts were slamming against one another through our chests.
“I broke up with Ethan. For good.”
He blinked at me. I thought maybe he hadn’t heard. Maybe all the blood had rushed down to his groin area. Based on the mammoth thing that was nestled between my legs, it wasn’t exactly far fetched.
“Why?” he demanded. He sounded . . . angry.
Because you are worth the risk, and I’m the idiot who is about to take it. Again.
“Because of your offer.”
“Be more specific?”
A temporary forever.
He was pulsating against my inner thigh. I thought I’d die if he didn’t enter me.
“To be your fake girlfriend . . . until . . .” I groaned when his teeth found my nipple through my chemise, clamping on it. “Is the offer still standing?” My teeth chattered.
“It is,” he murmured into my flesh.
“Then I accept.”
He froze completely. I thought he’d misheard me. Why else would he stop all the deliciousness that was happening between us? Then he laced his fingers through mine, curling them against my engagement ring with one hand, and ripped the chemise from my body with the other. He did it easily, like ripping clothes was his regular gig. The punishing pain o
f the fabric snapping against my flesh stole my breath away. A thin pile of satin pooled beneath me on his bed. He nudged my panties aside—the one clothing item he probably should rip, I thought in amusement—brushing his index finger along my slit, dipping it inside me and curling it. He hit my G-spot without as much as a blink, grinning sinisterly as I sucked in a breath, my abs contracting. I’d forgotten how good he was at this.
Actually, no. I remembered very clearly how accomplished he was between the sheets, which was why I’d tried to stay away.
Chase kissed his way down my body, taking each pert nipple between his teeth and giving it an appreciative tug. The chill of his cold breath against my wet nipples made delicious shivers run down my body.
He continued his way south, kissing, dragging his teeth, nibbling. He halted at my belly button, dipping his tongue into it and giving it a swirl. I ran my fingers through the black crown of hair as he french-kissed the insides of my thighs.
Chase Black was glorious to look at from every angle, but especially when he gazed up at me with his pale eyes while sliding his tongue inside me, his half smirk still intact. His tongue began to flick inside me, and the crushing weight of an impending orgasm—and heartbreak—descended on my body like a ten-ton brick.
I grabbed one of his pillows and moaned into it, eager to keep our long-awaited reunion a secret. I felt my thighs quivering, every muscle in my body tightening, and knew I was close. My toes began to tingle and my breathing became labored as he continued tonguing me, reaching up to twist one of my nipples playfully.
“I wonder if my dad would get my insurance money if I spontaneously combust,” I half whimpered, half pondered.
“Only you would say that right now.” He chuckled into me as he went harder, deeper, faster, pushing two fingers into me as he devoured me. I clenched, every single muscle in my body tight and frozen. Pleasure swept over my body in hot waves.
My breath shook when I came down from the high. Chase’s mouth was still pressed to my entrance. He licked his way up my stomach, then shoved his tongue into my mouth in a dirty kiss. I tasted myself and didn’t feel like slipping under a rock and living there for the rest of my life. He had this thing about him, Chase. No matter how badly we bickered with each other, he always made me feel goddess-like in bed.
I pushed my hand between us and cupped the length of him, kicking his pants down carnally with my feet. I tried to lower myself to his groin to return the favor, but he pinned me back to the bed. “I’m afraid foreplay is not in the cards for us. I’ve been waiting for this to happen since the moment you dumped me.” He reached for his nightstand, flipped his wallet open, and took out a condom before ripping the wrapper with his teeth and spitting it on the floor.
He sank inside me, sheathed and throbbing, entering me slowly, deeply, his face so concentrated and intense I couldn’t close my eyes.
I arched my back, realizing how much I’d missed it. Missed him. Then he stopped. Chase stared at me while he was inside of me. The weight of the entire world felt like it was lodged in the few inches between our chests.
“Hey.” His voice was almost a croak.
“Hey,” I did croak.
“I’m inside you. Again.” He tucked a stray flyaway behind my ear.
“All evidence points in that direction.” I looked down between us where our bodies met.
He laughed, kissing my neck, then capturing my mouth as he began thrusting inside me again. He swallowed my moans with kisses, and my eyelids finally rolled shut as I gave in to the moment.
Chase grabbed the backs of my thighs, pounding into me more forcefully. I bit my lower lip to suppress a cry of pleasure. I felt my breasts bouncing as he quickened his pace. He watched as they bobbed with a hooded, dirty gaze that made me clench around him like a vise. The bedsprings whined each time he pushed into me. We moved together in complete sync.
“Mad,” he groaned, looking away as if he was embarrassed about how present he was in the moment. I met him thrust for thrust, rolling my hips as he drove into me, and felt him jerking inside me uncontrollably.
“Fuck,” he hissed, flattening his palm over my lower stomach and holding me still as he pounded into me like he was trying to get rid of a demon that had taken hold of his body. “No, no, no.”
No?
A second climax unfurled under my belly button and spread to my legs, my chest, my fingertips when Chase flipped me onto my stomach, propping me back by my hip bones and entering me from behind. I let out a groan, adjusting to the new position.
“Fuck,” he said again. “That’s not working for me either.”
But he was still having sex with me, and his voice sounded so strained I couldn’t see him not enjoying it. Unless . . .
The satisfaction I felt was too much. It spread inside my chest like warm honey.
He was trying not to come. And failing.
“How close are you?” he hissed, the voice coming out in a short breath. The sound of us, flesh hitting flesh, and the thwack! of my wetness filled the room. I wondered if he was turned on by how unlikely we were in bed. How small and short I was, how big and muscular and tall he was.
“Close,” I moaned.
He began to massage my clit as he continued thrusting into me. My entire body trembled.
“I’m coming.”
“Thank fuck. Let me see.” He grabbed my short hair, extending my neck and staring me right in the eye. It was such a weird, intimate thing to do. And yet I met his gaze, my eyes sleepy as the orgasm ripped through me like a current. My mouth fell, O shaped, and he let go of my hair, thrusting a few more times and collapsing on top of me.
I felt the warm, thick liquid of his come inside me through the condom. His sweaty chest was plastered on my back. My head tucked under his chin. He groaned a few more times, pumping inside me lazily. I let out a soft whimper. He was two hundred pounds of muscles and ego the size of Staten Island. Heavy.
“Am I making pita bread out of you?” he asked sleepily.
“I never could resist carbs.”
He laughed. “Why is it,” he said to the nape of my neck, blowing my fine baby hair with his warm breath, “that you make me feel like a sixteen-year-old boy who just found out about pussy? What is it about you, Madison Goldbloom, that drives me goddamn wild?”
“Must be the patterned dresses,” I said into his pillow.
He kissed the back of my neck, laughing. “I mean, you mentioned your dad while I had my tongue inside you. My dick should’ve run away screaming. What makes you different from everyone else to me?”
The fact that he questioned it aloud was half-insulting, half-flattering.
“I’m me.” I shrugged, closing my eyes. “I’m myself, and everyone else tries to be someone else around you. To fit into your neat, all-Black universe. I live in color. I guess that’s a challenge for you.”
Suddenly, there was nothing I wanted more than to fall asleep.
So I did.
A fallen angel, dipped in the devil’s darkness, engulfed by his strong, deadly arms.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHASE
The rest of the weekend on the ranch did not suck, unlike Madison, who reminded me her mouth was the eighth wonder of the world. It was the best time I’d had in months. Fine, years. The weekend consisted of good food, pleasant conversation, and mind-blowing sex. I would have low-key suspected I’d died and gone to heaven if it weren’t for the fact I got an email from my accountant reminding me my quarterly tax payment was due.
If I thought I’d mythologized sex with Madison after we’d broken up to console myself for the subpar fucks I had to deal with, I was wrong. The real thing was even better than I remembered.
Longer, harder, and wetter too.
The only downside to the weekend was that Ethan Goddamn Goodman was still on the premises, horseback riding with us, sitting at our table, flirting with Katie (who looked less grossed out by the prospect of making out with my girlfriend’s ex than I’d expect
ed). For the sake of full disclosure, I didn’t mind him dating my sister. He was not, I realized upon reflecting on the matter more closely, the fuckboy I’d thought he was. He seemed like the playing-it-safe, ankle-socked churchgoer my sister would be happy with. I just didn’t think he was a suitable match to my Madison. I mean, Madison. Not my Madison. She wasn’t mine. I knew that.
The night before the morning we were all heading back to the city, Ethan had to rush back to Manhattan for an emergency. He offered Katie a ride, glancing at Madison, who gave him the thumbs-up with a wide grin.
That left us free of Ethan and Katie at breakfast. Which meant I was able to do the one thing I’d been fantasizing about since I’d come up with the fake-engagement plan. During breakfast, very casually and very offhandedly, I leaned down and kissed Madison on the lips. It was nothing more than a peck. I thought people who PDA’d ought to be publicly executed in the town square. But it was enough to show everyone it was real.
The look on Amber’s face—like she’d swallowed a fly—paired with Julian’s appalled frown almost made me laugh.
Now that we were heading home, I was irritated with the idea of saying goodbye. My ex-slash-current-slash-temporary girlfriend was delectable, and she kept my mind off Dad’s illness, which was definitely a bonus.
“Where do you want to sleep tonight?” I asked, driving at a pace that would make senior citizens look like delinquent punks. The rural view passed like flicking pictures, turning gradually into more concrete, higher buildings, and narrower pavements the closer we got to New York.
“My bed.” She laughed. “Where else?”
“Mine,” I said flatly.
“Daisy,” she pointed out. “She probably misses me a lot.”
