Page 55 of Chase

Two brothers, so different in so many ways. Both make my heart ache with want and my pussy with need. How will I ever choose? Will this crazy situation ever be resolved without someone’s heart being broken? The deeper we get, the less I feel it’s possible. But, I know I can’t walk away. We’ve gone too far.

I type back a quick message, explaining I need information on this patient. Connor immediately fires back.

Come to our office, not over text.

Russell is then marked as typing, and I dread what will pop up on my screen. Will he be serious or say something to rile his brother? It’s doubtful that he could allow a moment to pass without ruffling feathers.

Come to my office first. I miss you more.

As I step out onto the busy London afternoon, the messages between the two continue to ping in my pocket. With each glance at my screen, the conversation gets more ridiculous. The Chase brothers have the ability to bicker in any situation, it seems. Momentarily, I regret creating a group chat, but I can’t help but smile when they challenge each other to convince me to see them first using only emoji.

Russell proceeds to send an up arrow then twenty aubergine emoji in a row followed by a hot face and a huge smiley. Connor, however, sends only three—a diamond ring, a couple, and a baby. The chat goes dead, and I stride toward the office unsure what the hell I’m walking into.

Chapter twenty-two

Chase, Chase, and Waite Law Offices, Canary Wharf

Connor

She arrives and my heart all but stops. Samantha has never been to our offices, but seeing her step out of the elevator onto our floor makes me so fucking happy. She’s been on my mind since this morning, since she left my bed to head to work in the early hours. Every day I spend with her makes me even more certain she’s the girl for me.

Last night, she had reappeared at my apartment two hours after I left her with my brother. So many questions had been on my tongue, leaving me desperate for answers. I’d been too nervous to ask any. She walked into my living room as I’d lounged on the sofa pretending to watch television. The expression on her face was wary; I told myself this was as strange for her as it was for me. I was the one that instigated the damn situation, after all.

I’d stood, walked over to her, then placed my hands on her elbows as she gazed upwards. Her lips had quirked up a fraction, and she sighed softly. “You hungry?” I asked, and she shook her head.

“No, Russ ordered takeout.” Her casual explanation stung a little, but the natural cadence of her voice relaxed with the detail. I tried to keep my face impassive but wanted to show interest, trying to provide some assurance that I was okay with this.

“Where from?”

She’d cocked her head to one side as her eyes ran over my face, the way she does when she is assessing how someone will react to a situation. I see similarities between us in that sense. Samantha, for all she’s strong willed, isn’t impulsive. She can watch a scenario unfold and react accordingly. For me, I find an independent self-assured woman incredibly attractive, and my girl is both those things.

“An Italian place. We had pizza.”

“Any dessert?”

Her eyes narrowed, an uneasy look darkening her pretty features. “Are you asking me what I think you are?” she said, her tone irritated. She stepped backward out of my embrace, and I reprimanded myself for the indirect question. Samantha appreciates honesty and privacy. Whether she slept with my brother is none of my business while we navigate this part of our relationship.

“Yes,” I answered, embarrassed. “Sorry, I won’t ask for information on what you do with him again. It’s not my concern.”

“We didn’t,” she told me, her face softening with my apology. “Russell and I are only getting to know one another, and he has a broken leg.” She flashed me an encouraging smile, but it didn’t last. “But Connor, I’m not sure you’ll be able to handle when things do progress. It worries me.”

“I don’t want to think about it,” I admitted, furious that I allowed myself to feel jealous over a situation I had created. “But I know this is what we need to happen for you to be sure about us.”

“Then don’t think about it,” she said. “Not when I’m here with you. Come, let me show you just how much I want you.” She held out her hand. I took it, and she led me through to my bedroom.

When we arrived in the center, she let go and disappeared into the dressing area. I stood like a spare part in the middle of my bedroom, unsure what was going on. A few minutes later, Sam reappeared dressed in nothing but her red thigh-high boots, holding some of my favorite sexual aids in her hand. Her blonde hair was loose, the waves sitting softly against her shoulders. Those eyes I love more than anything danced with excitement. She strolled toward me, placing one foot deliberately in front of the other, her breasts perky but swinging free with each step.

I swallowed the instinct to grab her, throw her on the bed, and ravish her right in the moment. The items in her hands told me she expected a far more thorough experience. She offered me the black leather spreader bar and smiled sexily. I watched as she then lifted the black silk eye mask and tied it expertly across her eyes.

“Do as you wish, sir,” she murmured, offering me her wrists.

“Fuck, you’ll be the death of me.” She giggled, and my already hard cock strained in my boxers.

“Tell me exactly what you’re going to do, sir. I want every last detail.” I smiled to myself as I looked at the most beautiful girl in the world standing in my bedroom, blindfolded in sky-high boots, telling me to do as I wish and talk her through it. “Every last detail,” she repeated.

I reached for her fingers, interlinking her hand with mine.

“The summary of the situation is—”

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