Never Doubt Me: Judge Me Not #2(8)

Chase and I worry things will escalate if she doesn’t tell her mother what’s been going on. It’s too much of a burden for Will and Cassie to carry alone. Case in point, running away sure wasn’t the answer.

I blow out a breath and come up with an idea. Since Cassie seems to like me, maybe I can get her to open up this week. If I can find out more of what exactly goes on in Vegas, perhaps I can convince Cassie to speak with her mom. Will has good intentions, but he’s a guy and can never understand that feeling of powerlessness only women are privy to sometimes.

I think about my experience with the junkie, the night I was assaulted in the parking lot of my old apartment. I was lucky my assailant was scared away by passing cop cars. I shudder at the thought of what all could have happened that night.

Cassie, noticing when I cross my arms and shudder again, places her hand on my elbow. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I nod once. “It’s just kind of chilly. We should go inside the house.”

Cassie and I walk up the porch steps, and in keeping with my assertion that I’m cold, I suggest to the guys that we all go into the house.

Chase agrees, and once we’re inside the front hall, he stops and turns to his brother and Cassie. He proceeds to lay out some ground rules. “Like no sneaking off to do God-knows-what,” he says.

Will and Cassie nod in unison, and Chase adds, “If you’re hungry, there’s grub in the kitchen. Kay and I will wait in the living room so you two can have some alone time before bed.”

“That was very nice of you,” I say once Cassie and Will are out of hearing range.

“Yeah, that’s me”—Chase rolls his eyes—“Mr. Nice Guy. We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Chase is always expecting to screw things up somehow.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” I tell him, since it’s unfortunately true.

Chase shrugs his wide shoulders and mumbles, “Whatever, babe.”

From the kitchen, noises begin to drift out to the hall, Cabinets opening, plates and cups rattling. Someone opens the refrigerator door, and Cassie laughs as she and Will playfully argue over what kind of sandwiches to make.

“Sounds like they’re having fun,” I say, nudging Chase.

He smiles and drapes his arm around my shoulder. “Yeah, it does.”

He leads me into the living room, and once we’re seated on the sofa, Chase draws me into an all-encompassing hug. Now that things are calming, I feel him letting go. Tension in his shoulders and back begins to ease up. I know Chase needs me the most when he holds me like this.

“You always feel so good,” he murmurs into my hair.

“Chase…” I release a breath and squeeze him a little tighter.

After a few minutes, he leans back slightly, says, “Jesus… What a f*cking night, yeah?”

“You’re not kidding,” I agree. “It was a little crazy there for a while.”

Our arms remain around each another, and our eyes meet. Holding his gaze, I slowly lift the back of his T-shirt. Touching skin to skin always soothes us both, so I continue to touch, trailing my hands along Chase’s heavily muscled back.

He sighs and closes his eyes.

“I love how your skin feels,” I whisper.

His back is warm and smooth, but the texture of his skin differs slightly where his tattoos lie. Chase has several tattoos, all of which I love. From the scroll of words on his left bicep that reads, As I stand before you, judge me not, to the numeral 72 inked on his right bicep.

All of Chase’s ink is beyond stunning. But my favorite, hands down, is the tattoo on his back.

With care, I slowly trail my fingertips over the inked wings spanning his shoulders…then skim down to the angel kneeling underneath. I linger when I reach a feather that rains down past the angel. Several more feathers fall nearby. I now touch each one, all the way down to the base of Chase’s back. I’ve learned this ink so well that I don’t need to see his tattoos to know where each one is inked.

When I reach the feather near the sexy indentation above his left ass cheek, Chase shivers. “Babe, you better stop,” he warns. “You’re making me hard.”

“So,” I coyly reply, “if that’s the case, does that mean I should sneak back over in a little while?”

Chase groans and runs his hand up my thigh. He reaches the edge of my shorts, and says, “I like the way you’re thinking, sexy girl.”

I start to respond, but quickly and without warning, Chase pulls me onto his lap. I giggle and adjust my legs around him.

When he lifts his hips and presses his arousal into me, I let out on a surprised gasp. Chase wasn’t kidding, he’s hard as steel.

I circle my hips, creating a little friction that quickens our breaths.

“Mmm, maybe there’s something to be said for this sneaking-around thing,” I murmur.

Chase kisses along the shell of my ear and whispers, “You took the words right out of my mouth, baby.”

“When should I come back over?”

Chase’s lips move to my mouth, and he kisses me deeply before responding.

When he gets around to replying, after phenomenal kisses that leave me breathless, he says, “I’m betting my brother will be asleep five minutes after his head hits the pillow. If he’s anything like how he used to be, he’ll be out till morning.”