Game (Gentry Boys, #3)(29)

Chase, however, was delighted. He pulled at my arm. “Let’s go watch.”

“What?” I half whispered, half screamed. “You’re a sick son of a bitch.”

“Think of it as free porn.” He started to climb out of bed. I hadn’t said a word to Truly about what happened in Vegas and I didn’t want to answer questions about it now. I certainly didn’t want to awkwardly explain the presence of Chase Gentry in my bedroom in the middle of the afternoon. Chase winked at me and acted like he was going to roll off the bed and stroll through my bedroom door in his birthday suit. I pulled him back but he seemed to like that too much. He laughed harder and wrestled with me even though it wasn’t much of a contest since it would likely take four of me to defeat one of him. I didn’t notice how close to the edge of the bed I was until I rolled right off it, taking him with me. We landed with a loud thud and my hand hit the floor hard when I tried to break my fall. I grimaced as a flash of pain shot through my left wrist.

“Steph?” Truly called. She was right on the other side of the door.

“It’s fine!” I shouted. “I mean, I’m fine. I was just moving furniture.”

Chase decided to use this opportunity to fasten his mouth to my breasts.

“Let’s go,” Creed suddenly spoke up in a gruff voice.

I put my hands on Chase’s shoulders and tried to half-heartedly push him away. That only made him suck harder.

Truly was confused. “Go? We just got here.”

“Your damn cat’s staring at me again. Let’s go to my place.”

“We just came from your place.”

“I want to go back.”

“Creedence, what in the hell are you going on about?”

Creed must have grown tired of arguing and decided to use another form of persuasion. I heard soft noises and no further protests from Truly.

“All right,” she said, a little breathlessly. She knocked on the door once more. “You want to come out tonight?”

“No,” I called.

“Yes,” Chase whispered, taking his mouth off my breasts and covering me with his body. “You want to come tonight.”

I waited until I was sure Truly and Creed had left the apartment before I cursed and shoved Chase.

“Seriously, get the f*ck off!”

“Sure, I could get off again,” he joked but after I threw him a murderous look he rolled his eyes and eased his weight off me.

I grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around myself.

Chase was staring at me. “What’s wrong?”

I snapped at him. “For a smart guy you’re denser than shit. Can you really not understand why I don’t want to advertise what we just did?”

Chase pulled on his jeans. “Quit screaming at me, lady. I meant what the hell is wrong with your hand?”

I was holding my left wrist with my right hand. It was already swelling. “Nothing. I have fat wrists.”

He smiled vaguely. “Let me see.” Before I could consent he was gently pulling my arm and examining my wrist. I gritted my teeth as he lightly pressed the joint and bent it carefully. “It’s not broken,” he said with confidence.

“Thank you, Dr. Chase.”

Then, just when I was obscenely irritated with him, he did something a little bit sweet to make me think he might not be a complete douchebag. Chase held my eye as he lightly brushed my swollen wrist with his lips.

“I’ll get you some ice,” he said and wandered off to the kitchen. I heard him opening the freezer and making a lot of noise. I felt really stupid with nothing but a sheet around me so I started frantically pulling on my clothes. Chase walked back into the room just as I was trying to shimmy back into my shirt. I thought he was going to say something rude and dirty but he just held up an ice pack he’d made out of a dishtowel. He grinned.

“Sorry. Sex with me doesn’t usually end with bodily injury.”

“No?” I winced, carefully pressing the ice pack against my wrist.

Chase shrugged and sat down on the bed. “Unless you count a sore *. How’s yours feeling by the way?”

“Why the hell do you have to do that?”

“What?”

“Be all vulgar and shit.”

He laughed for a long time. “Who are you kidding? You’re twice as vulgar without breaking a sweat.”

“I’m not vulgar. I just curse a lot. You’re downright offensive.”

Chase was enjoying this. “Did I offend you? When?”

“Never mind. You didn’t. I love hearing about all the vaginas you’ve conquered with your battering ram.”

“I wasn’t talking about all of them, sweetheart. I was only talking about yours.”

How the hell do you manage to get me so hot and so mortified all in the same goddamn hour?

Chase followed me when I stalked into the living room.

“What do you want to do tonight?” he yawned, stretching.

I flopped on the couch and held the ice against my wrist. “Are we going steady or something?”

He sat down next to me. “No. But I like you.” His hand went confidently to my knee. “I want to take you out, Steph. It’s time.”

I stared at his hand as it rested on my knee. I couldn’t picture it, couldn’t imagine getting dressed up and sitting across a table from Chase Gentry, eating breadsticks and discussing local politics or whatever the hell people did when they went out.