More Than I Could (71)

“But what about Kennedy?” I ask.

“We’ll take it slow. She likes you, and I think you’re good for her. Kate has lots of opinions and most of them favor me getting to know you.”

I grin. “I think I like Kate.”

He squeezes my ass cheeks and kisses me not-so chastely.

“You’re such a fucking distraction,” he says against my lips.

“You knew that when you met me.”

He swipes his tongue through my mouth. “That wasn’t all I knew.”

I hop off him and start to unbutton my pants. His eyes glimmer with mischief as he pulls his pants down too.

“No one can see us down here, can they?” I ask.

He spreads his knees while I climb on. “Nope.”

“Good. Because I’m going to make you come inside me so hard that there might be fireworks.”

He laughs. But the laughter turns into a prolonged hiss as I sit down on his cock. Finally, he grips my waist before I can move.

“Um, Chase? I want to ride you.”

“I know. But before you rock my world, I want to hear you say you’re my girl.”

My cheeks blush. “Really?”

He seems to be as surprised as I am that we’re having this conversation but also … not. It’s as if he’s resolved that this is the way things are, and he’s cool with it. Happy with it.

That’s good because I am too.

“I thought having you around would be the problem,” he says. “Turns out that having you around and not having you locked down is the real distraction.”

I swivel my hips, my body flooding with heat I can’t extinguish.

I don’t know what I’m doing with this—this man, this relationship, this life. It could all go wrong—he could change his mind—and there’s little doubt it would break my heart. But instead of panicking and feeling like an impostor, I give in. I lean into Chase’s smile. His sincerity. I let myself soak up his words.

“Turns out that having you around and not having you locked down is the real distraction.”

How did I wind up here? How did I get so freaking lucky?

Chase nibbles at my bottom lip. “Tell. Me. You’re. Mine.”

“Okay,” I say, breathlessly. “I’m yours.”

He grinds me down on him and captures my lips with his. The force frazzles my brain.

Chase takes over, moving us together in a slow, easy dance. It’s not the fucking I think it’s going to be. It’s sweet. It’s intentional. It’s something different altogether, and if I’m not careful, I might misidentify it as the beginning stages of something more than lust.





Chapter Twenty-Six





Megan




I rustle against the sheets.

My head is foggy—heavy. The cloud of sleep is thick in my brain. I’ve partially woken, only to be trapped between awake and asleep a handful of times.

Dreams have been vivid since I drifted off shortly after midnight. Chase has been featured in all of them, regardless of the setting. That makes waking up a bit better. I get to remember our conversation on the swing, sharing a shower with him after, and then sneaking back to my room to avoid a walk of shame from Chase’s room to mine in the morning and bewildering Kennedy. And having to answer a lot of questions I’m not prepared to tackle—especially not alone.

Frustrated by my inability to make sense of reality—am I dreaming again, or is this real?—I try to turn onto my side.

And can’t.

What the …? I press off the mattress with my hip and realize I’m pinned to the bed.

Panic rushes over me. A tug-of-war starts in my brain of whether to scream or freeze or to start kicking and throwing punches. I gasp, opening my mouth to yell for help, when large, warm waves ripple through me—starting between my legs and radiating in all directions.

“Oof,” I gasp, forcing my eyes to open.

Oh shit.

Chase lies on the mattress, face in my pussy. He’s watching me—eyes trained on mine—as he licks and sucks around my opening.

I force a swallow down my parched throat. Good thing I didn’t need to scream. I wouldn’t have been able to anyway.

My head is scrambled despite being acutely aware of the delicious assault on my sex. I wonder what time it is. But as I start to look at the clock on the bedside table, Chase flicks my clit with his tongue.

“Ah,” I moan, reaching for his head.

He chuckles against me, rocking my hips back to give himself more access to my bud. I let my knees fall to the sides. I grip the side of his head and soak up the pleasure.

Every pass of his tongue gets me closer to the end.

He slips a finger inside me and works it just how I like it. I press my head into my pillows and climb to the top to my orgasm.

“Don’t be loud,” Chase says, kissing my clit, which makes me shiver.

“I can’t help it.”

He chuckles against me again. “You better help it, or I’ll have to gag you.”

I raise my head and stare into his eyes. “How loud do I have to get to be gagged?”

He shakes his head before burying it against me.

I try to remember his orders not to yell, but the intensity of the impending explosion proves to be too much. I grab a pillow and cover my face.