More Than I Could (58)

His cock stands tall, sharing my body’s refusal to give up. I take it in my palm and slowly stroke it while considering an alternative.

“Chase …”

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice hoarse.

“This is the unsexiest conversation I’ve ever had, but I’m on birth control. And I just had my yearly exam a couple of months ago, and it came back fine. I’m disease-free.”

He chuckles. “And you haven’t fucked anyone since?”

“No.”

His eyes flare. I’m on my back, and he’s hovering over me in a split second. “You went from the unsexiest thing ever to the sexiest.”

“It’s sexy that I’m in a dry spell?”

“Were.” He grabs my legs and wraps them around his waist. “You were in a dry spell.”

I reach between my legs and wink. “You’re right. I am pretty wet.”

He growls. The low and guttural sound coalesces in my core.

“I’m clean. I have an app thing from the doctor on my phone if you want to look at it,” he says.

“You’d just hand me your phone?”

“No.” He slides a finger into me, making me moan. “But you can go over there and get it if you want. I’ll unlock it for you.”

I suck in a breath and close my eyes, absorbing the waves of pleasure from him touching me.

“Are you going to get it?” he asks. “Or are you going to get it?”

“The phone or your dick? Is that what you mean?” He twists his fingers and pulls them out slowly. “Shit, Chase.”

“That’s what I mean.”

It would be easy to say I trust him without thinking about it. That would be the hedonistic answer, and I’m on a quest to pursue pleasure.

But it seems I’ve turned into a responsible adult.

“I’m happy to make you come on my fingers or face,” he says. “I don’t want you to feel pressured, sweetheart.”

Damn this man.

My heart swells, and I open my eyes. A set of bright-green eyes that holds no secrets peers down at me. There’s no shield, no sense of manipulation to get what he wants—only a man who genuinely cares about me. Who wants to do the right thing … even if it’s uncomfortable.

He eases me back to the bed and lies beside me. My chest rises and falls as I try to make sense of the riot of emotions inside my head.

“I trust you,” I whisper.

“Come here.”

I roll over, facing him. My lips are met with his.

He holds my face in his hands as if he’s holding something valuable. His mouth is soft, and his movements slow. He kisses me like he has all night.

He kisses me like he means it. Like he wants me to know that.

It takes me aback. The tender and sweet surprises me and throws me for a loop.

Shouldn’t this be expected? Shouldn’t this be something I’ve felt before? Shouldn’t it always be like this?

He continues to press kisses lazily along my jaw, down my throat, and across my collarbone. There’s no rush. There’s no frenzy to get down to business. Maybe that’s because we’ve already done this tonight.

Or this could be something new altogether.

My throat is raw as I roll Chase onto his back. The light is bright, and I prepare to climb on top of him. I’m suddenly self-conscious. I move to turn the light off when he stops me.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“I’m going to kill the light.”

“Why?”

“Because …” I don’t finish the sentence. I can’t. If I thought telling him that I don’t have an STD wasn’t sexy, telling him I’m nervous about him seeing my body when I’m on top of him is worse.

He holds my gaze and gently guides me until I’m straddling him. My breathing is ragged; my heart thumps a mile a minute.

I can only imagine my appearance in this light and from this angle. This isn’t the living room with the hazy lighting and friendly shadows. This isn’t the moonlight that’s just as forgiving. This is a bright LED light whose job seems to be pointing out every roll, each stretch mark. Fuck that light.

“Hey,” he says, rising and kissing me. “You’re beautiful.”

Oh, my heart. I smile at him but quickly look away.

“Megan.”

His hands clamp my thighs.

“Megan,” he says again. “Look at me.”

I take a deep breath and gaze up at his chiseled abs, over his hard chest, and at his gorgeous face.

“You have no idea how lucky I am to be here with you right now,” he says softly. “Every time I remember that you’ve allowed me to be inside you tonight, I can’t believe it.”

I blush. “Chase, stop.”

“I can’t stop. Apparently, no one has told you how beautiful you are, and you need to know.”

“This isn’t happening,” I say, starting to move off him.

He presses down on my thighs. If I struggle to move, he’ll let me up. I can see it in his eyes. But in the depths of the green, I also see him asking permission to hold me on top of him. I let him.

“What don’t you like about yourself?” he asks softly. “What are you worried about?”