Page 4 of Check & Chase
The hand that isn’t on my breast trails lower, sliding up my thigh beneath the hem of my dress. His fingers slip beneath the lace, finding me embarrassingly wet. Chase makes a sound of approval, his forehead resting against mine.
“So wet already,” he murmurs, circling my clit with his thumb. “Is it all for me?”
I nod.
“Tell me,” he insists, slowing his movements. “Use your words, Blondie.”
“Yes,” I gasp. “It’s all for you. Please, don’t stop.”
“Good girl.”
He slides one finger inside me, then another, stretching me in the most delicious way. My hips buck against his hand, seeking more friction.
“That’s it,” Chase encourages, his voice rough. “Take what you need. I want to feel you come on my fingers.”
His thumb continues its relentless circles as his fingers pump in and out.
“Chase,” I moan, too far gone to care about being quiet.
“Shh, Blondie,” he murmurs, capturing my lips in another scorching kiss. “Don’t want the whole party to hear how good I’m making you feel.”
The thought of everyone knowing what we’re doing only heightens my arousal. I’m close already, wound tight from the dancing and kissing and the way he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me.
“I’m… I’m going to…” I can’t even get the words out.
“Come for me,” Chase urges, curling his fingers just right while pressing his thumb harder against my clit. “Let me feel you fall apart.”
The orgasm hits me hard. My back arches, my thighs clamp around his hand, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out. Waves of pleasure crash over me as he works me through it, his movements slowing as I come down.
When I finally open my eyes, he’s watching me with a mix of awe and desire. Slowly, deliberately, he withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean. My brain short-circuits.
“Fuck, Blondie,” he mutters, his voice low and rough. “You taste even better than I imagined.”
I pull him in for another kiss, tasting myself on his tongue. His erection presses against me, and I reach between us to palm him through his jeans.
“My turn,” I whisper, toying with his belt buckle.
He groans as I unbutton his jeans and slide his zipper down. I slip my hand inside, stroking him through his boxers.
“Christ, Emma,” he hisses, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. “Your hand feels so good.”
I’m just about to free him from his boxers when the door bangs open, flooding the room with light and noise. We spring apart like guilty teenagers, but it’s too late.
Tyler stands in the doorway, his expression morphing from surprise to anger. “What the fuck is this?”
My stomach drops. Of all the people to catch us, it had to be him.
Chase straightens, placing himself slightly in front of me. “We were just talking.”
Tyler’s laugh is harsh. “Right. With your hand up her dress? Real classy, Mitchell.”
Mitchell? Chase’s last name is Mitchell?
Wait.
“You two know each other?” I ask.
Tyler’s eyes narrow. “He’s Chase Mitchell. Newest Bears player. Didn’t he tell you?”
