Chase Me (Broke and Beautiful #1)(55)

“Fuck, Rox.” He slipped the head of his erection between her legs. “Do you have any idea how you’re looking at me right now?”

“How is that?” she asked, voice unrecognizable.

“Like you’d beg for it if I asked.”

Roxy felt drugged, hot. Outside of herself but still wildly attuned to her body. “Is that what you want?” She worked her hips in a slow circle. An answer wasn’t needed; his groan told her everything she needed to know. The power it gave her was heady. “Please, Louis. Please?”

“Jesus, stop. I can’t take any more,” he grated, before thrusting into her hard. A harsh sob fell from her lips at the sudden, perfect fullness. Relief at finally being joined faded quickly, and he started to move. Tight, quick thrusts forced her to plant her hands more securely on the table. “You think I need a reason to want you any more? When it’s already so goddamn much?”

She moaned. “I don’t know, just don’t stop.”

He settled a hand at the small of her back and pushed down, creating a different angle, one that allowed him to hit the spot inside her that had never been reached before. Every upward thrust of his hips drove her closer to release. Too fast. Too fast. She wanted to hold on longer, but he only sped up until she was facedown and clinging to the table’s edge. Was that her screaming at him to go harder? She wasn’t entirely conscious of anything but the pressure building inside her, threatening to swallow her up. Her belly was pressed against the table, her legs spread wide. She had no way of relieving the unbelievable ache—she could only rely on him to do it for her.

“Louis. I need it. Please.”

“You would come fast. Of course you would. Just another thing to drive me f*cking crazy.” She felt his hand smooth over her thigh before slipping between her legs, circling his middle finger right where she needed it. “Go ahead, baby. I need you a little longer.”

Something about the gravel in his voice pushed her that final step to release. She cried out as it rolled through her, but it was muffled by the table, her voice vibrating with the force of Louis’s drives. He felt rock hard inside of her, unyielding. All she could do was hold on as his rhythm grew erratic, then sped up. Beneath her, the table scraped on the floor and wedged against the wall.

“Fuck, I’m coming, Rox. You good?”

“Yes,” she managed.

His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, hard, as he started hammering into her, so fast it rattled her teeth. An image of them together at the courthouse flashed through her mind. Of his hips moving so fast they blurred . . . she knew that’s what he looked like now even though she couldn’t see him. Could envision the look of intensity on his face. Louis McNally came like a f*cking freight train, and she loved that. Loved being the one to draw it out of him. Behind her, he pushed deep one final time and fell forward onto her back, shaking against her.

“So good, feels so f*cking good.” His mouth moved, hot and open, over her back. “No one else does this to me. I already want you again. Fuck.”

Roxy opened her mouth to beg for a break—there’s a first time for everything—but he pulled her upright, back against his chest. His lips traced the side of her neck and kissed her ear. Her limbs felt weak and liquefied, like she would melt without his arms around her. He chuckled into her hair, telling her he sensed what she was going through. One of his arms looped under her knees and he lifted her, carrying her toward the back of the apartment.

“Come on.” He kissed her forehead. “You get into bed and I’ll get us both a nice glass of cabernet.”

“Smart-ass.”





Chapter 19



LOUIS WATCHED ROXY take a lap around his room and drop onto the edge of his bed. Oh, boy. His heart tried to pound its way out of his chest. Moment of truth. A hint of self-consciousness had crept into her expression, and he knew why. His room was massive. It could probably fit ten of her bedrooms inside it and still have enough space for his treadmill. He’d never really given a thought to it before. Born and raised in Manhattan, he knew square footage came at a premium, but family money, then his own income, had always allowed him to be more than comfortable. Since he was pretty sure his first fight with Roxy had been sparked over her lack of personal space, it felt like he was walking over a field of land mines. He wanted her there, though. Frequently. So this had to happen sooner or later.

When she ran her hands up her arms to grip her elbows, she looked so much smaller than her personality, her presence. Going on instinct, he crossed to his dresser and found a T-shirt for her to wear, worried that if she left the bedroom to get her own clothes, she’d keep right on walking out the door. If that happened, he might just embarrass himself by grabbing hold of her leg and telling her she’d have to drag him down the hallway in order to leave. At the same time, he didn’t like seeing Roxy on a bed he’d spent time in with other girls. He kind of wanted to set it on fire and buy a new one tonight. Jesus, apparently Lena was rubbing off on him.

Okay, so he’d been with a healthy amount of partners. After all, he was a certified nine, right? But something different happened when he was with Roxy. Inside her . . . buried all the way to the back with just enough room to move. Louis almost groaned out loud at the memory of it. She fit him perfectly, and still there was so much more happening when they were connected in that way. The buildup of feelings burning through him would have scared him if he hadn’t felt her right there with him, feeling the same goddamn thing. He knew she did . . . could sense it. They moved together in a way he didn’t think was a simple matter of chemistry, though God knew, they f*cking had that covered. Back in the kitchen, he’d gone somewhere else . . . somewhere he’d been able to only see her, see them. She’d become an on-the-spot addiction he didn’t want to kick.