Page 68 of Chase

“I know. That’s why Connor and I trust you to explore what’s on offer and make the best decision for you. For everyone. Who you see yourself creating a life with.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” I whisper, my voice pained as my gaze drops to my fingers, which are twisting together nervously. “That was never my intention.”

“No, but that outcome is inevitable. Because I tell you now, neither my brother nor I are willing to give you up without a fight. As far as I’m concerned, Trouble, you’re already mine.” He places one strong finger beneath my chin, forcing my eyes upwards and back to his. “I won’t give you up, Trouble. What we have is forever, whether you know that now or not. In time, you’ll come to realize that you’ve always been mine. From the first minute I laid eyes on you in the boardroom last September, there was no doubt we would end up here.”

“I never wanted to see you again,” I tell him, and he smiles. “You were an arsehole.”

“But you couldn’t resist once I unleashed my relentless charm.”

“Something like that.” I roll my eyes dramatically, and his hand snaps to my face. He squeezes my cheeks between strong fingers. We stare at one another, the brewing sexual tension we’ve been trying to ignore heightening again. He grins, his eyes bright and full of life.

“Do you know the best thing about your new addition, Trouble?” I give him a curious look, confused by his change of direction. “Your new jewelry,” he confirms.

“I have no idea what is going to come out of that gorgeous mouth of yours,” I murmur, my face still held fast in his hand. He smiles again. Fuck, he’s beautiful when he smiles.

On first meeting Russell and over the following months, I doubted he ever smiled, but now it seems a much more regular occurrence, and I love the fact they’re aimed at me.

“You and I will be healing simultaneously and back to full working order together.” He pulls me closer, his warm breath tickles my lips as he talks. “And I promise you this, Trouble. When I do fuck you, you will never forget it. It will remain in your memories forever. Part of me will be with you until the end of time. You’ll be marked as mine.”

***

Connor’s Apartment

My phone buzzed at one in the afternoon when Connor let me know he was on his way home from the office. Russell had fallen asleep on the sofa, and I took the opportunity to leave without any objection.

Once I extricated myself from his arms, I found a light blanket stored in a hallway cupboard. I pulled the fine material over his large frame as he snored gently, lost in whatever dream he was having. Every so often, long eyelashes fluttered as if he was going to wake before falling back into a steady comfortable rhythm of sleep.

Now, I’m sitting in Connor’s apartment, waiting for his return. The transition from one man’s house to the other’s was strangely comfortable. It didn’t feel odd moving between them. They’re both important to my sanity. My happiness.

With my legs curled beneath me, I’m pretending to read a Stephen King novel I found on his shelves. It’s the one I’ve seen forever about the deadly clown, though I’ve never read the book or watched the movie. The small snippets I’ve consumed were enough to tell me I would hate the horror it offered. The idea that something otherworldly is out there waiting to hurt people is unsettling. I’ve seen enough evil in the real world to do me a lifetime.

The front door opens, and Connor appears. He’s dressed in a smart gray suit with a fine black checked pattern. His jacket is open, exposing the crisp white shirt beneath. He pulls the hem from the waistband of his trousers as he walks toward me, then unbuttons two more buttons at his chest. I lay the book open on the sofa beside me, face up.

“Hey,” he says before bending to kiss me. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” I reach up and ruffle his perfectly styled hair. He closes his eyes momentarily under my touch then takes my wrist, turns it slowly, and places his lips on my skin.

“I’ve missed you more,” he whispers. “Are you enjoying the book?” His focus moves to the literature I was pretending to read, lying disposed of.

“It’s okay, a bit tame for me.” He smiles naughtily. “But I wanted to see why you thought it was so good, why you own every book this man has written in multiple copies.” To one side of the living area is a huge bookcase filled with Connor’s favorite reading material.

“Because he’s a legend,” he tells me. “ And I like to collect legendary items.” He raises an eyebrow, then smirks. “Both living and inanimate. I’m extremely pleased with the latest addition to my collection of favorite things.”

“And what would that be?”

“You.” I laugh out loud. “I think I know what the problem is and perhaps why you can’t appreciate the words of Mr. King as much as I do.” I narrow my eyes, and his glint with mischief. He’s going to tease me, it’s as clear as day on his face. “It’s hard to read a book when it’s upside down.” I look at the open book lying beside me, the words the wrong way up. I shrug, then bite my lip.

He slides the jacket from his shoulders before folding it neatly and placing it over the back of the sofa. Strong fingers move to the remaining buttons on his shirt, and he undoes them one by one. The shirt falls open, and he releases the cuffs. The white material hits the floor.

“Maybe I should start on this,” I suggest, signaling to the book. I pick it up, opening the pages wider. “I really need to find out what I am missing out on, especially now I can understand the words.”

Pretending to have my eyes fixed on the ink, I sneak glances as Connor removes his shoes, trousers, and socks. He sits down beside me in only a pair of snug dark boxers, close enough that the hairs on my arms stand on end.

“Don’t break the spine,” he mutters. “I like to keep my collectables pristine.”

“Oops,” I say, bending the book wider. The perfect surface strains, and an audible crack sounds. “What are you going to do about it?”

His eyes darken, his stunning mouth twisting, amused by my naughtiness. “Punish you.”

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