Just Let Me Love You (Judge Me Not #3)(13)

Chase shrugs his wide shoulders. “I don’t know. I sure as hell hope it is.”

In a low voice, I quietly say, “If not, though, then it means Will still has a gun in his possession.”

Chase sighs. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I’ve been thinking we should stay in town for a while.”

“We do have three more weeks off from work. School starts after Labor Day,” I offer helpfully.

I work as a first-grade teacher at Holy Trinity Elementary, the church-run school. And Chase works for the church as a sort of handyman. We don’t have to return to work until September since my summer secretarial job ended, and Father Maridale gave Chase time off to work out this thing with Will.

Chase pulls me to him, his hands reaching down and slipping under the pale-pink silk of my robe. “You’re okay with staying, then?”

His fingers graze over my thigh, trailing up higher and higher. “Uh-huh,” I gasp when he reaches and squeezes my ass cheeks lightly.

“Baby,” he says.

His tone is smug, knowing what his touch does to me.

“Don’t stop,” I whisper.

He doesn’t stop. Chase nuzzles my neck, his lips soft and wet. “This little robe is cute,” he murmurs against my skin, his breath the lightest of tickles. He finds the tie at my waist and adds, “But I think it has to go.”

“Yes,” I agree. “Good idea.”

Making short work of the loose knot, Chase slides the silky material down my body till it’s just a puddle of pink fabric on the garage floor.

“You’re so beautiful, baby girl,” he tells me as his eyes scan every inch of my bared-for-him body.

When Chase dips a finger between my legs, I moan.

He chuckles and says in return, “Always so ready for me, aren’t you?”

It’s true; I am always ready for him.

“I am,” I say. “I want you, always.”

Chase glances around the room, like he’s trying to decide where he wants to take me.

Anywhere, I long to tell him. You can take me anywhere, because you already have me everywhere.

He eyes the bike for a few seconds, but decides against it. Slowly, he walks me backward to the parked Porsche.

“It does have a nice, swoopy hood,” I say, which makes him laugh.

We reach the car and as he leans me back against it, he rasps, “It sure does.”

I prop myself up on the hood on my elbows and ask, “Is this your mom’s car, or Greg’s?”

“I don’t know,” Chase says as he unzips his jeans, “and I don’t really care.”

He slides his jeans and boxer briefs low on his hips, freeing his magnificent hardness. I reach out and wrap my hand around the silky smooth skin while I squeeze at the solid length beneath. “I want you right now,” I tell him.

Like Chase, I don’t care whose car this is. All I want is for Chase to spread me wide on the hood and fill me as only he can do.

He pulls his T-shirt over his head. That move is for me; he knows I like to touch the wings tattooed on his back when we’re together like this.

I lean all the way back and scoot up on metal so smooth my skin doesn’t stick or stop. I just glide.

Chase leans over me. His hand rests next to my head, the muscles in his left arm straining and bunching as he supports his weight. With his free hand, he does what I love to watch him do—handles his cock.

I watch as he strokes once, twice, and then positions himself at my core. I place my hand on the tattoo scrolling around his left bicep. I’ve read the words a million times, but I read them again, out loud. “As I stand before you, judge me not.”

“Fitting words,” he says.

“For both of us,” I say, and then I add, “I love your tattoos so much.”

“I know you do, baby,” Chase replies.

With his engorged tip at my entrance, Chase guides himself into me inch-by-inch. I writhe and arch at the slow but delicious torture of him filling my small body. When he’s in me as far as he can go, he makes me look up at him.

His gaze is questioning, tortured. I want Chase to find peace. And I certainly want to help him, no matter what that might entail.

Chase starts to move, his gaze never leaving mine. “I need you,” he whispers at last.

“I’m here,” I whisper back, gasping when he thrusts into me more roughly. “I’m here, Chase. I’m here.”

I know he hears me, but from the frantic way he keeps plunging into me, I don’t think he really hears me. He drives into me like he’s branding me, marking me. He’s doing everything he can to make me his forever.

Doesn’t he know I will always be his?

Logically, I believe he knows. But there’s something deep in Chase that makes him fear I will leave him, just as he’s been left in the past.

Never, ever will that happen, I long to say.

But he needs more than words. He needs to learn it on his own by overcoming his fears. I just don’t know if Chase sees as clearly as I do the things which haunt him.





Chase



If I keep this up, I am going to lose Kay.

Am I being irrational?

I don’t know. But even if she doesn’t leave me, she deserves more than this. I need to confront and work through my issues, just as I encouraged her to do. Maybe if I quell these demons haunting me, I’ll finally be the better man I’ve been striving to become.