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It’s almost déjà vu, being here, on his bed, Chase dressed and looking down at me. Except this time, there isn’t a sense of urgency. Touches are slower, tastes longer, everything blissfully drawn out. By the time Chase finally makes his way between my legs, one tongue swirl over my clit and I come.
He flattens his tongue against me as I ride out the orgasm, moaning long and loud. I’m limp and warm when he crawls up my body, reaching for the nightstand. There’s a crinkle of foil and finally the slow, full glide of his cock inside me.
“Bell. My Bell.” Chase’s words wash over me. “You feel so good, Bell.”
* * *
“Ooof.” All the air in my lungs whooshes out in one long, painful exhale.
An unpleasant way to wake up, to say the least.
Panicked, my eyes fly open, arms raised to ward off my attacker. Only to grab a lump of warm, saggy skin sitting on my stomach.
“Damn it, Mike,” I wheeze, trying to suck in air.
He licks his balls once before leaping to the floor.
Freak-out over, my body relaxes back into the mattress. Light barely filters through the curtains, the bedroom still cast in shadow.
Stay, he’d said.
I could. It wouldn’t be hard. This whole weekend has been easy. The two of us, we just… mesh. I can’t think of another word to describe it. As cheesy as it sounds, being with Chase, being here, feels more right than my sad, undecorated, studio in Houston ever has.
I’d love to wake up next to him tomorrow. Make love. Tally orgasms. Watch action films. Protect his junk from his diabolical cat. Hold hands.
I want to stay.
Chase shifts in his sleep, facing me. He looks young and peaceful. Happy. Not that he isn’t always smirking and winking. Lord knows he is. But this seems different. He seems different. Unguarded, genuine. I’d like to think I had something to do with that. I know he’s made me happy. I feel like myself, as odd as that sounds. It’s weird to realize that I haven’t felt like myself these past few years. That I’ve just been running on autopilot, giving myself occupational goals, thinking each time I met and exceeded them that I’d achieved something meaningful.
It’s sad to realize that I’ve just been filling a void. And not even that well, if two days with Chase has made me feel more myself than eight years of work.
I don’t like to think of myself as easily duped. But it’s clear that I’ve duped myself. I convinced myself that losing my parents hadn’t affected me. That, because they were older, their deaths were expected sooner rather than later. So when it happened, when they were actually gone and I didn’t have anyone else to lean on, I used work to cope.
I’m not sure if it was intentional or happenstance, but by becoming such a workaholic, I conveniently didn’t have time for new relationships.
And then Denise happened, and I was blacklisted from everything I’d worked so hard and so long for.
Chase lets out a soft snore, then grunts, sounding like a displeased gorilla.
Even in sleep, this man can make me smile when my thoughts are so unhappy.
If I stayed, I’m pretty sure he’d make me smile every day of my life. Pretty sure isn’t sure enough, though. I’m finally back in the city I love, heading up a multi-billion-dollar company’s marketing. Chase may think we can keep a relationship quiet, but he doesn’t have at risk what I do.
His family already knows. And with Denise in the picture, it’ll only take a whisper of impropriety for her to justify spreading rumors and undermining my success.
No. I may want to stay. But I need to go.
He asked for two days. I gave him two days.
Chase is my client. I will not fall for my client. I’d be doing the very thing Denise accused me of eight years ago. Except this time, it would be true.
His lashes flutter against his cheek, his mind far away in a dream. Reaching out, my fingertips graze the lock of hair over his brow.
Maybe after Moore’s new media campaign is up and running, we could…
No. I pull my hand back. Don’t get ahead of yourself.
Carefully, I slide out from the covers, grateful when Chase’s breath remains deep and even.
