Page 39 of Love Undercover
He cupped her breast, running his thumb over the nipple through the bra he’d bought her, and she arched into him, hands twisting tighter in his shirt.
His groan came out like a growl against her throat, and his teeth skimmed along the soft skin.
More, more, more, his mind, his body chanted.
He rolled, pulling her on top of him, and his hand shot down her back, under the band of the shorts she wore to grab a handful of her butt. He’d wanted to do that since he’d first gotten a backside view.
Her mouth was hungry for his, and he eagerly accepted it, overtook her enthusiasm, sending his other hand into the shorts and started shoving them down, thinking only of gettingmore.
And that’s when he felt her start to come back to herself. The very slightest retreat in her body, which had been rippling with need only a half-second before, warned him that he’d best start locking things down.
“Chase,” she said against his mouth.
“Hm?” He took one last taste of those pillowy lips and tried to pull back.
But she was having a hard time slowing the train because she sighed and laid into his mouth again. “Ugh,” she said, placing her hands on his cheeks as if he were the one, not her, diving in again. “I—we—can’t.”
“Okay.” He accepted another of her kisses, but otherwise made every other part of himself as still as possible. Difficult when one part really had quite the mind of its own.
She brushed her lips along his one more time, then finally pushed against his chest to sit up. He winced at the way her pelvis shifted over him, and his hands landed on her thighs.
It took all of his concentration to keep from moving.
She shifted her face away, tucking hair behind her ear. “I, um. . . I’m not on birth control.”
He blinked. Birth control? Shit. He hadn’t even gotten that far in his thought process. She wasn’t the only one responsible for that, but he certainly didn’t have anything on hand either.
He propped himself up on his elbows, trying to understand why she would be ashamed to admit this to him. Could it be. . . ?
“Wait. Why not?” he asked, suspicious. “Is it a hippie reason?”
She laughed, though it was strained. “Yes.”
He reached up to touch her damp hair. It felt good to do it, to give in to the impulse instead of fighting himself on it like he hadbeen all this time. “It’s okay. This got a bit out of hand, and I’m honestly not really prepared myself.” He cleared his throat.
She looked at him from under her lashes, a self-conscious smile tugging at her lips.
“You’re not the only one in charge ofthatanyway. Even if you were on birth control, the wise thing to do would be using both.”
She chewed her lip and looked away again. Did her chin tremble?
He sat up, shifting his weight carefully so that he didn’t knock her off of him. “Hey. It’s fine.”
She shrugged one shoulder but said nothing.
“Who made you feel like it wasn’t okay to not take birth control?” He gripped her arms lightly.
“Well. Greg.”
He should have known. The flash of rage was acidic through his blood, stinging and sharp. This guy was an unlikable prick on paper, but the picture Chase was getting on top of that really drove the point home.
She released a soft sigh. “He’s just one of many who’s given me a hard time for my ‘hippie’ ways.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel bad for it,” he murmured. Because he still felt that new freedom to touch her, he brushed a hand along her face and tapped his lips against hers briefly.
“It’s all right. I know how it all sounds.”
“Ridiculous at first,” he admitted. “But now that I understand—well, partially. Tell me about the birth control thing. And I’ll get the laundry started with your own clothes. That was the whole reason I even came in here.”
