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“Yes, CJ, that’s daddy.”
Hunter stands and kisses me on the cheek, then whispers, “Are you going to be okay with this?”
I nod because I am okay with it. It’s for CJ’s benefit, no matter what I think or feel. I’m not going to keep my son from his father even if he has nothing to do with me.
“I’ll see you and Rory on Christmas Eve,” I respond. “Bundle up before you go, it’s windy.”
I hug them both and see them out the door while Chase hangs back and plays with CJ. I leave them together while I put my packages away in the closet. I have a lot of wrapping ahead of me in the next week. When I come out, CJ is sitting in Chase’s lap. The way CJ reacts makes it seem like his father was never away, which makes me smile.
Not wanting to interrupt their moment, I don’t bother them for a while, and as evening falls, I announce that it’s time for CJ to have dinner and a bath.
“Can I feed him?” Chase speaks up.
“He’s a lot more self-sufficient than he was when he saw you last him. He’s pretty good at feeding himself even though he needs a little help.”
I put a small plastic bowl of macaroni with a bit of sauce in front of CJ. Gurgling happily, he starts to eat with his fingers. Chase remains sitting at his side.
“You might want to remove your sweater. This could get messy,” I say, gesturing to the pale blue cashmere sweater he’s wearing. He pulls it over his head to reveal a form-fitting t-shirt that outlines his muscle definition. As his shoulders flex, I tear my gaze away because the simmer in my belly starts to roar into flames again.
An hour later, CJ is fed, bathed, and in his pajamas. Chase occupies the rocking chair and reads him a story. The image of CJ falling asleep in Chase’s lap makes my heart swell. Soon afterward, he carries him to his crib and covers him with a light blanket.
“Is he asleep?”
“Yes.”
I gesture to the kitchen. “I have some dinner for us if you want to talk over it. Beef stew. I made it yesterday.”
“I love your beef stew. You didn’t happen to make any bread, did you?”
“I did. This place smelled like a bakery for a day.”
I set bowls on the table and take a seat next to Chase. He’s about to reach for his spoon but, instead, cups my chin and turns me towards him. What seems like minutes pass and the second his lips touch mine, I go weak. My appetite for food has disappeared, but a new hunger has taken its place.
“Let’s go to the bedroom,” I say against his lips as I move to stand.
“I don’t have any condoms with me.”
“You don’t need them. I’m still on birth control, and I’ve been with no one else.”
My words spurn him on. He rises and scoops me up in his arms, then rushes us to my bedroom, where we tear off our clothing in a frenzy. I can’t get naked fast enough because Chase pins me with a stare just as I hook my fingers around the band of my panties.
“Leave them on,” he orders, his deep voice intoxicating.
I can’t help but chuckle excitedly. He pushes me onto the bed and covers my body with his—the heat of him alone drives me crazy with desire. I haven’t had sex in months, and with how little time I get, even masturbating has its limits. I gasp when he presses his nose against the skin of my chest and inhales deeply.
“I can’t get enough of your scent,” he whispers. “I missed it so much.”
Chase starts tantalizingly slow, first kissing my nose, then my eyelids, and finally, he hovers to plant a soft kiss on my lips. My heart is pounding in my ears. His lips move gently over mine, causing shockwaves to go through my body right down to my toes. I can’t help but moan each time he makes contact.
I kiss him back, lingering, savoring every moment. Although I don’t want this to end, a burning need for him to be inside me rises in my core. His length, hot and velvety smooth against my leg, makes me wriggle. I try to shift under him, but his weight is too much.
Chase sears a path down my neck and to my shoulders, planting kisses across from right to left and back again. His lips continued to explore my sensitive flesh until he gets to my taut belly. He kisses around my navel, blows lightly, and then moves lower. Taking the waistband of my panties in his teeth, he pulls at them, then let's go so they snap once against my skin. I squirm, but he holds me in place. And still lower, he moves until his nose is pressing against the soaked panel of white lace.
“White, Megan? So innocent…” His suggestive tone isn’t lost on me.
Before I can respond, his tongue laps at my sodden panties, and I reach down to push his face harder against them when he tongues my swollen bundle of nerves that will take me over the edge. Chase pulls out of my grip and uses his strength to tear at the lace.
“Fuck, Chase! You owe me so many pairs of panties.”
