The Look of Love (The Sullivans #1)(26)

Damn it, he was saying too much. Marcus didn’t need to know what he and Chloe had—or hadn’t—done.

Chase refilled their glasses before turning the tables on his brother and asking, “Everything go all right in the city last night after you left the party? How’s Jill doing?”

“She’s fine.” A muscle started jumping in Marcus’s jaw. “I think I’m going to head in for the night. Got a busy day tomorrow.”

Chase stood up, too. This time around the Sullivan telepathy was working perfectly. Something was up with Jill and Marcus—and his brother had no intention of talking about it with anyone.

Chase wished like hell he knew how to bring the old Marcus back. As the oldest of all of them, after their father died, Marcus had immediately stepped into those newly empty shoes. Chase had memories of his brother changing diapers and wiping noses. Making sure everyone got to school on time with their homework in their backpacks. Fortunately, in their twenties, as everyone grew up and needed him less, he’d been able to break out of that responsible shell and cut loose.

Once upon a time, Marcus had been the biggest player of them all—almost as if he was making up for lost time. Women would throw themselves at him, and he’d catch each and every one of them.

But now, ever since he’d been with ice princess Jill, he’d changed again. Receded back into that too-responsible, too-mature shell.

Funny, Chase realized with a start, that while he was thinking his brother needed to shake off the chains and get back out there, he was looking at doing the exact opposite.

But the truth was, Chase had burned through more than enough women.

He was ready for one special one.

“I should check on Chloe,” Chase told his brother. “Got to make sure she didn’t get lost in your palace on the hill.”

A couple of minutes of searching later, he found her standing out on the back deck, her glass empty again. For a long moment, Chase had to stop and just stare.

She was stunning.

Not because of the moonlight. Not because of the dress.

It was all Chloe.

No other woman had ever taken his breath away like this. And he knew no other ever would.

Just her.

“There you are.”

She turned her face to his and it was full of so much emotion—and longing—that it was all he could do not to just reach for her.

They were completely alone out on the back porch. His brother was in bed, everyone else was gone. And he could tell just from looking at her that the wine had blurred some of her edges.

Unable to keep away from her, he moved behind her, putting his hands on either side of the rail. “Some moon tonight, isn’t it?”

He expected her to push away from him, but strangely, she did the exact opposite by turning slowly in the circle of his arms so that she was looking straight at him with those big eyes that mucked up his insides.

“Chase.”

Jesus, he was teetering on a thin edge, so close to her and yet so damn far.

Honor. Why had he decided that honor mattered? Everything would be so much easier if he simply took what he wanted...and worried about the consequences later.

She wasn’t drunk, but she wasn’t sober either. He should take her back to the guest house. Put her to bed.

Alone.

But he obviously wasn’t strong enough to do any of that. All he could do was say her name. And want her more than he’d ever wanted anyone or anything in his whole life.

“Chloe.”

Her full lips parted slightly at the sound of her name. For the first time, she wasn’t trying to hide her desire from him.

“It’s inevitable, isn’t it?”

Hell yes, it was. But he couldn’t put words in her mouth. Not now.

“What’s inevitable?” Each word was raw. Husky.

Her eyes dropped to his mouth.

“This kiss.”

Chapter Seven

As Chloe threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled his face down to hers, it took every ounce of control Chase possessed to keep his hands on the rail.

But when her lips touched his, just a whisper of a kiss...his control was lost.

He wanted to touch her everywhere at once, but it was a straight shot from the rail to her lower back and the curve of her hips.

Her mouth was so soft, so damn sweet, as she pressed one kiss after another against his lips. If he could, he would have prolonged the gentle exploration. But he’d been waiting too damn long for this kiss. Running one hand up her spine, he cupped the back of her neck and held her captive beneath him while he tasted her.

She gasped against his mouth, and somewhere in the back of his head he started to wonder if he was hurting her. And then he felt it: Her tongue coming out to stroke against his.

Jesus, he’d thought about this moment a thousand times in the past twenty-four hours, but nothing he’d come up with, nothing he’d envisioned in his fantasies, even came close to the reality of how soft, how sweet, how sensual kissing Chloe really was.

Chase had always loved kissing. To his surprise, most women liked to rush past that part of their sensual dance. But as far as he was concerned, a kiss could be just as good as full-blown sex.

Better, even.

Especially when he was kissing Chloe.

He could spend hours on her mouth and, judging by the way she was kissing him back, he had a feeling she would be up for exactly that.