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I’m fading fast. Without opening my eyes, I whisper, “Thank you. I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

“My pleasure. Taking care of you is my pleasure.”

Chapter 5

True to his word, Chase wakes me two hours later. I expect the hotel alarm clock, not soft soothing fingers caressing my face and hairline. A bone chilling cold creeps along the sensitive skin of my cheekbone. My eyelids flicker open and gaze into sleepy, half-hooded, azure eyes. His features are different under the muted glow of the bedside lamp, more comforting, less intense. I could get used to seeing these bedroom eyes. He holds an icepack against my swollen cheek. The icy chill sends shivers through me.

“Gillian, what’s my name?” he asks in a hushed voice.

“Chase,” I say groggily. The pain medication makes my tongue feel thick and swollen.

“Here, Baby, take these.” He puts two small white pills on the tip of my tongue and hands me a glass of water.When did he start calling me, Baby?“The doctor said it will help with the swelling and the pain from your stitches.” I swallow the pills and lay back down.

He sets the glass down, brings the covers back up to my chin and puts the icepack on the bedside table. His gaze clocks every inch of my face, a mercurial look fastened to his features. I smile dreamily at him. Chase is pretty.

“Why, thank you,” he says, amusement in his tone. I didn’t realize I said the thought aloud, but disregard taking it back. It’s the truth.

He plants a soft kiss against my lips. His right hand cradles the undamaged side of my face. I return the kiss as he slides satiny lips against mine. He continues the slow assault on my mouth, not increasing the pressure or taking it further. Just kissing me how he wants. Like a man who cherishes his woman. This is dangerous territory we’re entering.

Chase’s tongue strokes my bottom lip, and I slide my fingers into his hairline, tickling his scalp and increasing the pressure. That’s all the permission he needs. Taking the invitation greedily, he uses his mouth to swallow me whole. His tongue sweeps past my teeth and against my tongue in long unhurried swipes. A moan leaves me on a rasp of breath. He tastes good, rich and utterly male. I want his body on top of me, coating every surface with his warm skin. Tugging at his shoulders, I attempt to bring him against my chest. It doesn’t work. He’s a solid rock, unmovable. I grunt in frustration, scissoring my legs to aid in my goal. Unfortunately, Chase does the exact opposite of what I want and pulls away.

“God, what you do to me, Gillian. It’s never…let’s just say I’m not used to this.” He pulls completely away and walks to the other side of the bed and gets in. The rumpled sheets and imprint of his head in the pillow tell me he’s been sleeping next me. In my drug induced state, I hadn’t noticed. I frown, wishing I could remember the exact moment his body entered the bed next to mine.

“Not used to what?” I turn on my side, resting my head on the pillow and stare at him in the soft light. He’s lying on his back, breathing deeply. His white t-shirt stretches across his broad chest, accentuating the hills and valleys of a perfectly sculpted frame. I want to scrape my nails against the fabric to see how he would respond. He’s contemplative and brooding. Instead of touching him, I wait, keeping my distance.

“This attraction. It’s maddening.” He frowns as I stare.

Chase is panty-melting good-looking. Everything about him attracts me. From the tip of his dark hair, down his beautiful face, and over his broad chest, to the parts of him I haven’t yet been introduced to. I’m not sure what he is talking about, but my head is heavy and I’m losing the battle to keep my eyes open. I feel him turn towards me.

“Gillian, look at me,” he says sternly.

My eyes open and focus with a great deal of effort. I’m fading fast.

“I need you to remember these three things. Vanilla, emerald, and popsicle. You got that?” I nod. “No, say it,” he demands as I close incredibly heavy lids.

“Um, vanilla, emerald, and a popsicle,” I repeat like a good girl.

The next time I wake is to heat, a veritable inferno. A body surrounds me, large legs and arms enclosing me tightly. The room is bathed in black and strong arms hold me fast against a wide chest, preventing much movement. I can’t remember the last time I woke in a man’s arms. The feeling of being so sheltered, so secure is heart-melting. I can feel Chase’s breath quicken and his chest rise and fall against my cheek. If only I could bottle this feeling for eternity.

“Baby, what are the three things I asked you to remember?” Chase asks in a low, gravelly voice.

“Um, green, vanilla and popsicle.” I snuggle into his chest and start to drift. My head is so heavy it feels like a stack of bricks are holding it down.

He stiffens and pulls away, forcing me to lose my comfy spot. “Gillian, what are the three things in exact order, exactly as I said them?” His tone is harsh, demanding.

I try really hard to think back to what he told me. “Oh. Vanilla, emerald,notgreen, and popsicle.” I say confidently but still exhausted.

A huge breath leaves his chest, but the scowl I can barely see in the shadows of night still mars his lovely face. “Go to back to sleep.” He grips me protectively, and I rub against his side like a cat, stretching and finding just the right position before I start purring.

Gentle fingers glide along my arm, shoulder, neck, hairline and down along my hip and naked thigh, waking me once more. The caress is repeated over and over, sending dizzying bouts of lust through every limb. The sensation is wonderful and I roll completely onto my back, opening myself to him in the most vulnerable way. Chase’s large hand slips to my bare belly and covers the entire expanse. He’s huge compared to me.

An errant thumb lightly circles the edge of my panties. My breath puffs out in tiny frantic bursts of excitement. I feel the heat of his head at the base of my neck, his five o’clock shadow grating along the skin there. His teeth nibble at my chin in a line to my mouth. Once there, I take his lips into a feverish kiss, never having opened my eyes. His tongue demands entrance. I open for him. In this moment there’s nothing I want more than Chase, over me. On top of me. Completing me.

Chase drinks from the well of my mouth, biting into my bottom lip, then moving to its twin. I groan, needing, wanting more. Finally, his hand slides under my shirt to cup one full breast. I arch, pressing the heavy flesh into his strong hand, relishing the tingles that spread through my chest. I taste his minty breath as he moans his pleasure into my mouth. His fingers fondle the globe teasingly. Then utter relief splatters across my senses as he brings the cup of my bra down and grazes his thumb over an aching tip. Bliss.

“Oh, God,” spills from my throat, as if ripped directly from the heavens. It’s guttural and raw. Chase is doing this to me. Turning me into something else, someone I don’t recognize. He swallows my cry as if he’s eating it, all lips, teeth and tongue.

With his thumb, he pulls and pinches the tight peak, elongating it into a tender bit of flesh that’s tethered directly to the pleasure building in my core. I grip him hard, pulling him to me, sliding my hands under his shirt to scratch my nails down the fine skin of his muscular back. He takes the advantage and slides my shirt up, exposing my chest to his gluttonous eyes. His hands push the bra down to fully squeeze and grope both breasts greedily, flicking and tugging at each tip, driving me insane with lust. I pray that he never stops touching them. I’d willingly serve them up on a platter every day if he would promise me this nirvana regularly.

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