Just Let Me Love You (Judge Me Not #3)(10)

“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 f*ck her hard and she loves it.

Jesus, I’d like to f*ck 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 her.

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 f*ck 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.