Asher didn’t blink at Chase’s nickname for me. Hell, I didn’t blink anymore. I freaking loved it.
Chase sat right next to me, angling my legs over his thighs, forcing my body to relax against the couch armrest. He smelled clean, a mix of soap and deodorant. A mix of ocean and citrus. Delicious. My senses were spoiled. Never would I tire of his smell. Ever.
Chase’s magic fingers went to town massaging my bare feet. His warm touch relieved my tension—from witnessing his mixed emotions about visiting Boston, finding out he had parents that sucked in every way that counted—to learning that the man I loved chased fuck-face out of Wrangel to give me back my home. None of it mattered. Not right now, at least. Right now, we both needed a little normalcy.
Asher tossed Chase a beer and topped off my glass, before collapsing back onto his lounger. “What do you guys feel like eating, what should we order?”
“Sushi?”
“You and the fucking sushi, C. You ever eat anything else, man?” Asher’s expression was priceless. Effing priceless.
Maybe it was the foot massage, or the alcohol, or maybe the weeks of pent-up anxiety, who knew? But there was no holding back. None. I spit my wine halfway across the terrace laughing. I belly laughed so hard my cheeks burned.
Chase and Asher ping-ponged a who-brought-the-cool-kid look, making me laugh even harder. My sides stabbed. I had no clue the last time I laughed this hard, really laughed. How sad was that? Good thing I went to the bathroom when we first got back to the apartment, or instead of the inevitable two-drop dribble that always snuck out before you remembered to clamp your thighs together in the mother of all Kegels, I might have pissed my pants. Sandwiched between two of the most handsome men I’d ever met, the thought of peeing my pants made me roar. Talk about a tension release ... weeks in the making.
“You’re a hoot, Lil,” Asher chirped out, in between dragging on his beer and shaking his head in amusement.
“A hoot? You fucking pansy. You’ve been living in Boston way too long. Who says that? You should meet Lil’s friend. Don’t know what’s worse, turd or hoot. What do you think, baby?” Chase rubbed my leg and let out a deep chuckle. Yeah, he needed the release too. Damn, it felt good to laugh.
“You two are fucking straaange. I’m getting another beer, then I’m ordering Chinese!”
Asher left the terrace and stalked toward the kitchen, making Chase laugh harder. I freaking loved his laugh. I loved him. I loved this. Period.
I fingered the tears from under my eyes. Happy tears. Fun tears.
“You good, Blue?” He might have stopped laughing, but his eyes remained relaxed. Hopeful.
“Yeah ... I’m good.” We’re good.
Chase was quiet for a second, but not in a brooding or mysterious way. His fiery gaze locked on mine. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Part of me wished he would lean over already and kiss me so I could show him just how good we were. Scratch that, all of me…
“Truth, baby ... I fucking hate Chinese food.”
Yep. Definitely pissed my pants this time.
Two six packs, half a bottle of pinot noir and a shitload of Moo Shu chicken later, we finally said goodnight to Ash. The three of us had a really great night.
“This was really fun. Asher’s awesome. I’m glad you have him.” I stared at his reflection in the mirror while he brushed his teeth. Shirtless. Mmm. My hands magnetically found their way around his waist, appreciating every hard ‘pack’ of his eight, not six- pack, until they settled on my favorite spot. Those damn V’s that dipped below the waistband of his sweatpants were my undoing. Every time. Note to self, sweats freaking rocked. Gave those low-rise linen pants a run for their money.
He rinsed and spit, then wiped his chiseled jaw with the hand towel. The entire time his hooded stare never wavered, cranking my internal furnace up ten degrees. A pool of heat flooded between my legs.
His voice was low. “First, you’re right, tonight was awesome. We definitely needed it. Second, though, doesn’t matter that he’s my best friend and I trust him with your life. You’ve got to know, the next time you’re looking at me like that, eye fucking me, baby, and you mention another man, be ready not to sleep. It will take at least a few days of hearing you scream my name while I’m making you come, for me to get over it.”
Ever heard of catching flies? My mouth fell open wide enough to catch a swarm. Feminists around the world would have been stroking out right now. Full-out brain bleeds. Until I met Chase, the thought of anyone talking to me like that repulsed me. He used “eye fucking” in a sentence, for god’s sake, and I liked it. Freaking loved it. The thought of anyone but Chase ever talking dirty, hell, ever touching me, repulsed me now.
Truth ... I loved how dominant Chase was in the bedroom. I never felt safer than I did in his strong arms. He was the most generous lover. Bossy as all hell, but he made me feel cherished and respected. Ironically, trusting him enough to take the lead gave me back my control. I felt sexy and alive when we were together ... less damaged.
Now was no exception. I tried to stay focused on those sexy greys melting a hole in my core, but my eyes darted to the growing erection stretching against his sweats instead.
Chase turned around and tucked my hair behind my ear. He leaned against the vanity. “See something you want?”
“Um?” I sucked at dirty talk. Those delicious butterflies that start in your stomach and work their way down, way down, were fluttering in circles. My insides were humming. Just the sound of his voice was like a triple shot of espresso to my sex. The rhythmic throbbing gave my heartbeat a run for its money.
“Touch me, Blue. Take what you want, baby. Take what’s yours.”
Mine. All mine.
All coherent thought went out the window. Thinking, period went out the window. Chase looked at me like a starved lion looking for his next meal. He covered my hands with his and dipped them below his waistband. The heat pulsing from his groin only enticed me to explore further.
“Mmm” escaped from my lips. I slid his sweats down his thighs, freeing his thick erection. I was salivating. Now who was the animal?
He wrapped his fingers around his hard shaft and squeezed. My mouth went dry; any and all moisture drenched my thong. “My girl likes to watch?” He stroked his cock, with more force than I ever imagined using. It was the hottest moment. Ever.
“Take off your clothes baby. Naked, now.” Chase fisted his hard length. The arousal in his eyes stole my breath; my sex throbbed. Throbbed. Holy freaking spasms. I could have come from just watching.
Chase growled, “Now. Clothes off, Blue.”
My frenzied state must have caused a motor delay from my brain, because I was still dressed. When my paralysis finally subsided, I stripped in record time. My clothes fell to a heap on the bathroom floor allowing Chase to roam my flushed body. My nipples peaked. They could have cut glass. Literally. They screamed for his warm tongue. I was completely bare and aroused in the middle of a well-lit bathroom, gawking at my hotter-than-hell boyfriend masturbating. I should have been embarrassed. But it was the furthest thing from my mind. Turned on was the understatement-of-the-year.
Sustaining his hungry stare, he inched over to the shower. His free hand opened the glass door and turned it on. It was a mini palace, the size of a walk-in closet with three marble walls and four deluxe brushed nickel showerheads that cascaded steaming water. It sounded like rain, real rain, reminding me of the night we fought outside my apartment. The night that changed everything.
His left hand tested the water temperature; his right continued pumping. The throbbing in my core matched his quickening strokes.