I Stand Before You (Judge Me Not #2)(72)

Just because Chase never had the chance to deal drugs doesn’t mean he wasn’t in deep. My boy was fully immersed in his chemicals of choice at the time. He’s told me this and more. He said it’s still no picnic trying to stay clean, those chemicals still tempt him. Drugs call to him on occasion. That’s why I know seeing Kyle must have made an already bad situation—being in that part of town, fighting like he used to do—worse.

I tentatively touch the light stubble along his jaw, and ask softly, “Are you okay?”

He presses his lips together. “I think so.”

He sounds uncertain, and I venture, “What did Kyle say to you?”

“He offered me drugs, baby. That’s what dealers do.” Chase flips onto his back. He starts to run his fingers through his hair, but grasps hard instead. “He said I could have whatever I wanted. First buy, no cost.”

My hand is partway to touching his shoulder and I freeze. “You said no, right?”

He moves my hand and sits up, then scrubs his hands down his face. “Of course I said no, Kay.”

I sit up behind him and wrap my arms and legs around him. I lean the uninjured side of my face to the angel on his back. I press until I feel the texture of her against my cheek.

“I’m sorry for asking, Chase. I know going back down there had to be tough. And seeing Kyle, I just…” I sigh against his back and listen to his steady breaths. Inhaling and exhaling life. “I just wish there was more I could do to help you.”

I feel him relax slightly, and Chase whispers, “You do help me, sweet girl. Every day, all the time, you make me stronger. You give me the strength to be better. You’re a big part of why I said no to Kyle.”

“I wish you wouldn’t have even seen him,” I lament to the angel on his back.

Chase turns and faces me. He takes my hands in his. “He actually did something good, Kay. He stopped me from going too far with the junkie.”

His eyes meet mine. He’s not kidding. Shit. Chase might have killed someone tonight had it not been for Kyle Tanner.

I swallow hard. “You would have stopped, Chase, even without Kyle’s intervention.”

My boy stares at our linked hands. “Yeah, I guess,” he says, not convincingly at all.

Chase almost killed for me tonight. This knowledge is both heady and terrifying. I let go of his hands, and run my fingers along his shoulder, down his arm. Fingertips brush over the As I stand before you, judge me not tattoo.

I don’t judge this man I love. His actions were in defense of me. And he didn’t kill anyone, he stopped. Whether that was because of Kyle, or if he would have anyway, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that nobody in my life has ever loved me enough to defend me with that kind of passion. I’ve never been the reason for anyone to unleash rage like that on someone who’s done me wrong. But Chase did those things for me tonight. I hold the power to unleash his passion. And what I want to do now, in this very instant, is unleash my badass boy’s passion for something positive, something that will heal us both.

I lean forward and press my lips to his. Chase sighs and lays me back with care. He settles his weight on me, slowly and tortuously covering my body. I wrap my legs around him, and he showers my face with kisses. As he grazes his teeth down my neck, I feel his arousal when he starts to gently thrust against me.

Tension builds as our kisses deepen. I know part of this is raw sexual buildup—from earlier tonight, from the other day in the school—but there’s something more. Chase is wired from fighting—hyped up from all that transpired down in the lot—and the resulting flood of emotions. And I am just as tightly wound.

Chase, breathing hard and rising to his knees, lifts the hem of my tee. His blues question before he continues. I nod my head, lift up slightly, and raise my arms. Chase peels my T-shirt up and off, then lays me back.

My boy, still on his knees, takes in my now-bare upper body as I lay before him. I part my legs, inviting him to come closer. He positions himself between them. With one hand under my bent knee, Chase urges me to open more for him. As I do, he presses his very hard to my very soft.

With his arousal pushing at my core, and even through the fabrics of our shorts, I gasp and pull Chase down to me, finding the warmth and wetness of his mouth. He kisses me hard, our chests touching—bare skin to skin. I can’t help but moan out his name. His shorts and mine have become nothing more than frustrating barriers, so I wiggle and squirm until my shorts and panties slide together partway down my thighs.

With that accomplished, I get to work on pushing Chase’s basketball shorts down. When my fingers hook under his waistband, I realize he has nothing on underneath. Oh, God.

I rock beneath him, pushing my bare * up against his still-covered cock. “Take them off,” I plead.

“Baby, baby,” he whispers in my ear. Chase stills my hands at the waistband of his shorts. “Tonight doesn’t have to be about me, baby girl. Just let me love you.”

I assume Chase is hesitant because we don’t have any protection, so I tell him about the clinic and the birth control shot. “And we already know we’re both healthy,” I add.

“That’s not it,” he insists. “I want to be with you, but I want our first time together to be perfect for you. You deserve perfect, Kay.”

I would prefer “perfect”—whatever that may be—but I don’t want to not do anything tonight. I need more than kissing. I tell Chase this, and he laughs.