Page 39 of Body

Chase picks up speed, his movements becoming jerky, erratic. The pleasure within me mounts, crawls up that mountain and sits right at the edge of bliss. A couple hard strokes and I barrel head first off the cliff. I muffle a cry against his shoulder, biting the tender skin near his clavicle.

He roars into my ear, his face wedged into the crook of my neck. His body goes tight, ridged with tension as his climax overtakes him, spilling his seed hotly into me. I love the pulsing beat of his cock nestled deep in my core as the aftershocks extend his pleasure. I grip his length in a kegel, using the muscles along the pelvic floor to clench around him.

Chase moans into my hairline and thrusts his hips. “Whoa, what the hell was that?” A sexy grin adorns his beautiful face as he trails little bites and nips along my neck and chin before sealing his lips over my mouth.

He pulls away and cups my cheek with one hand, sweeping his thumb along the cheekbone. I smile and waggle my eyebrows and clinch my internal muscles again. His eyes roll into the back of his head and a quick breath leaves his lips.

“That was a kegel, Baby.” I roll the endearment around in my head. I guess if it works for him, it could work for me. I’ve never been one to dole out terms of endearments. He grins that sexy sideways grin. I’m proud of my womanly trick, even more so knowing he’s never experienced it before with someone else.

Just when I think I’ve got one over on him, his dick twitches enticingly inside my womb. “Hey! What was that?”

“A bagel,” he answers and licks his bottom lip.

“A what?” I slide my hands up his dewy back and massage the muscles.

He nuzzles his cheek against mine. “If yours was a kegel, mine was a bagel. A boy kegel.”

His eyes dance with mirth, and we both laugh hysterically. So many rounds in the sack have made us silly and I love the carefree side of him. This is the first time I’ve seen “Playful Chase.”

He kisses me and then sits up. “I have to get a little work done this morning.” He searches my face for a hint of irritation. He finds none and smiles. The man has to work. Even if it is, Saturday. I can’t imagine he makes billions without burning the midnight oil and working on the weekends.

“Kay. I’ll take a shower.” I stretch the kinks in my body and nuzzle into his pillow. It smells like him; completely divine.

“Help yourself to a little something to eat in the kitchen.” He moves over to a large chest, pulls out a pair of pajama bottoms and a white undershirt. Damn, the man would look good enough to eat in a burlap sack, but casual Chase is sleepy sexy. My lady bits twinge excitedly as I watch him slip the shirt over his broad chest, his abdomen bunching and twisting with the effort. Next time we’re together I’m licking a trail along each and every bump on that heavenly landscape. He’s still talking and I look away from his body to pay attention. “I don’t usually have Bentley come until around ten. I prefer to have something light in the morning and then have a larger brunch.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I smile and he leans down to kiss me one last time. “God, you’re beautiful.” He shakes his head and leaves the room.

Strange man, but I’m in to him. At least until he figures out how messed up I am. I take stock of my body as I stretch each limb. Definitely well used. My shoulders are stiff, lady parts delectably sore, and my thighs feel over worked in a delicious way. Overall, I feel damn good indeed. I smile, proud of myself as I saunter into his master bath completely naked.

Settling under the double headed spray, I let the hot water massage my sore underused muscles. I need to hit the gym this week. I only worked out twice instead of my normal three times, coupled with two visits to Bree’s yoga or Pilates classes. Although, the sexcapades last night had to count for a serious calorie burn. I grin to myself. Chase is a stallion in the sack. The way he used my body, gave and took pleasure…a shiver runs down my spine. I kick each arm and fling my fingers out trying to knock out the sexual energy that surges when I think of him.

Drying off I evaluate my surroundings and learn a little about the man behind the empire. Chase’s bathroom is right out of aModern Livingmagazine layout. The walls are covered in tiny mosaic tiles in varying shades of green and blue. A large brown star like shape cuts through the middle of the wall and borders the entire room. The intricate design is stunning. It reminds me of the cool calming colors found at the beach. It must have taken days to place each of the one inch sized tiles in perfect order in a bathroom this grandiose. I’m sure Chase paid very good money to make it just so.

I blow dry my hair and use Chase’s brush. I smile as I see long red strands running through the bristles. If I was considerate I’d pull them out and throw them away but I like the idea of a physical reminder of my presence here. He said he’s never brought a woman home. I wonder why. Would he tell me if I asked?

Opening doors I make my way into quite possibly the largest walk-in closet on God’s green earth. I’m not sure it can classify as a closet; it’s a small men’s clothing store. The space is larger than my entire apartment’s living room and kitchen combined. The man is a fashion whore. Just like I am with my bargain shoes. The word “overboard” comes to mind. At least thirty feet of suits hang like perfect sentinels in exact order by color, mostly in shades of black, gray, navy, and tan. Tuxedos finish the lineup. The opposite wall holds jeans, dress shirts and polos in a wide palette of colors. I grab a white pinstriped dress shirt with the tiniest green lines and throw it over my naked body. Since I don’t have suitable clothes, this will have to do. I highly doubt Chase will mind.If he does, he can just take it off me, the little devil on my shoulder laughs haughtily.

Too hungry to wait for Bentley, I make my way to the kitchen. It’s early and it’s another hour or two before he’ll make Chase his breakfast. At the very least, I need caffeine. I look through a few cabinets trying to find the coffee and coffee pot. There’s nothing on the kitchen counters except a glass dish filled to the brim with what looks like homemade cookies. Crumbs scatter around the edge of the dish. He likes to have something light in the morning, I snicker. Yeah, right. He eats cookies for breakfast. Alpha male, master of his own universe and sugar junkie. Somehow it makes him more real.

Again, I scan the space. At home, Maria and I have gadgets, trinkets, and papers galore covering the counters. It’s strange to see a living space so sterile. I open the bottom cabinets to the left of the kitchen island and find the coffee pot.Eureka!I give myself an internal fist pump, wiggling my bum in the air to a victory beat only I can hear. I move things around in the low cupboard to find the coffee.

“Damn!” says a loud unrecognizable voice behind me.

I spring up nearly whacking my head on the cupboard and am caught off guard by the smiling stranger in front of me. His eyes are wide and his mouth opens and closes a couple times but no words come out. I’m certain the look on my face expresses the same shock. The man’s blue eyes travel up and down my scantily clothed body and I pull the shirt-tails to cover as much skin as possible. It doesn’t work; the shirt only covers my naked form to mid-thigh so I jump behind the island to hide more of me.

The stranger and I stare, saying nothing. He has blonde shaggy hair that’s sexy in a boyish way. His blue eyes are really light, almost grey and his smile is bright white as if he’d had a lot of orthodontia to make it so perfect. Chase saunters in as if nothing unusual is taking place. He sets down an empty glass and milk residue pools at the bottom. He grabs a cookie from the dish. He’s oblivious to the crackling tension between the man and I as he pulls me to his side with a firm hand around my waist then nuzzles my neck. He kisses it lightly a couple times. The stranger’s mouth falls open again before a wide grin splits across his handsome face.

“Carson, meet Gillian Callahan.” Oh, thank God! Carson is the cousin, his best friend from what I’ve gathered in conversations. “Gillian, this is Carson Davis.”

“Hello.” I feel weakened by my lack of appropriate attire.

“Red,” he says in awe and shakes his head. “You’re a redhead,” he says again, sounding astonished.

I grab a lock of hair and self-consciously twirl it around my fingers. He was probably expecting a blonde. Chase eases my discomfort by walking over to Carson and clapping him on the back.

“Close your mouth, Carson.” He laughs. Carson clamps his mouth shut but continues to stare. It’s unnerving and rude. First Chase’s bodyguard stares me up and down, now his cousin. What is with these guys?

“Gillian, your clothes have arrived. I set them on the bed,” Chase says.

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