I Stand Before You (Judge Me Not #2)(83)

“No more blank walls,” I muse.

That’s why Chase looked so smug when I said something about the walls this morning. He was already planning this surprise then.

“No more blank walls,” he echoes back.

I am so thrilled and excited with this part of my surprise that I start to tell Chase all the places I plan to place his artwork—the boulangerie will go in the kitchen, Notre Dame and the Arc de Triomphe I plan to place side-by-side on the wall above the dark blue sofa, and the Montmartre café and Champs élysées pieces just feel like they belong in the bedroom.

“What about the Eiffel Tower?” Chase asks.

“Hmm…” I consider.

The Eiffel Tower sketch is one of the best. It’s stunning enough to brighten any room all by itself.

I suddenly have an idea. “Wait.”

I pick the framed Eiffel Tower sketch up, and turn so I’m facing Chase. I give him a look that hopefully conveys: you are going to love this.

“What?” he asks as he watches curiously.

“Just a minute,” I huff as I turn back around, kick off my sandals, and start to climb up onto his bed. I steady myself using the pine headboard, then straighten. “You shouldn’t have blank walls, either, artist boy.”

I glance back and Chase shakes his head, but in a way that says he likes where I’m going with this.

I hold the Eiffel Tower up so it’s centered above his bed. There’s a nail in the wall and I position the frame on it. “I think this one belongs right here.” I secure and straighten Chase’s artwork. “What do you think?”

I step down from the bed, and my boy comes up from behind me. He toys with one of the thin straps of my dress. It slips down and he kisses my exposed shoulder. “I love your idea. I think it looks great up there. Every time we’re in this room we can pretend like we’re right in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower.”

“Why did you do all this, Chase?” I whisper, leaning back into his powerful chest.

Strong arms surround me, and I suddenly want this man around me even more. I want him on me, in me, all over me. I want his strength, his talent, his love.

My boy trails his nose up my neck and whispers in my ear, “I did this because you deserve perfect, Kay. I meant it when I said that last night.”

“This is perfect,” I say quietly, though I mean so much more. “It’s better than perfect actually.”

Chase knows what I’m saying, I am telling him the time is right, there will never be a more perfect moment than right now for what we’re about to do. With gentle hands, he turns me so I’m facing him. His blues are heavy-lidded, hungry with lust…and love.

“I love you, baby girl,” he tells me. “Let me show you how much.”

Before I can respond, my boy is on his knees before me, sliding his hands up my bare legs, lifting my dress, and hooking his fingers into the edges of the lace panties I tried earlier to keep from his view. Not now—they’re fully on display. Chase holds my dress aloft and kisses the little pink bow he discovers at one hip. He moves to the other pink bow at the other hip and does the same. Then, he’s slipping all the bows and all the lace down my legs. I’m weak-kneed and breathless, trembling with love. But love holds me up with all his strength. I place my hands on his shoulders and lift one leg, then the other, and pink lace is discarded to the floor.

Chase delivers soft, wet kisses—to my hips, to my thighs—then he lifts me easily and lays me back on the bed. He drags me down to the edge slowly, my hair fanning out on the covers behind me. Chase, kneeling between my shaky, weak legs, showers the insides of my thighs with more scorching little kisses that burn straight up to my center.

I hike my dress up higher on my own, making my boy chuckle. At my haste, I suppose. But then he hisses in a breath of air. “You’re beautiful,” he tells me when I fully expose myself to him.

Chase stands and starts to unbutton his shirt. He undoes a few, then says, “Fuck it,” and just pulls the material over his head, revealing all his flexing muscles and beautiful tattoos. Blue-gray drops to the floor while I admire and ogle the body it was just covering. Chase takes no notice of my wandering eyes, my boy’s too busy leaning over me, putting his knees on the bed, pushing me up farther as he gets to work on undoing all the tiny buttons at the front of my dress. It doesn’t take long before loosened and gaping fabric is slid over my breasts and pushed down until it gathers at my waist. Chase unhooks my bra, and pink lace is pushed aside and discarded as his hot mouth descends to my breasts.

He uses one hand to cup a breast, plumping it into his mouth, while his other hand raises the lower part of my dress up over my hips, allowing the fabric to join the rest of my dress gathered at my waist. Chase leaves me barely clothed like this as he parts my folds with his long, adept fingers. When he finds me wet and wanting, he groans around my nipple. His fingers make a pass at my entrance, spreading my wetness and circling my clitoris. I suck in a ragged breath and bury my own fingers in his hair.

My boy releases the breast he’s been concentrating on and moves over to the other, licking, sucking, and driving me wild as he works my body with his mouth and his hands. I feel so close to release, but Chase releases my breast with an audible pop and removes his fingers from my sex. He scoots me back a little more and hovers over me. His knees are on either side of me, still clad in faded denim, but the top button of his jeans is undone. His arms straighten, caging me in as he holds his body up above me, feral and dominating. I am small beneath him, and I like it…a lot.