Page 61 of Things Good Girls Don't Do (Rock Canyon, Idaho 1)

Angling his cock up and into her warmth, he groaned as the satin sheath stretched around him and he pushed further inside. “Am I hurting you?”

“God no.”

He took her at her word and worked inside her, thrusting and withdrawing, his mouth taking hers. He caught every cry, every moan against his tongue and lips and was so turned on he couldn’t have left her if the house had been on fire.

Katie cried out and tensed around him as she came, and it pushed him over the edge, her clenching muscles bringing him hard. He collapsed against the wall, pressing her further into it, and kept gulping for air. “That was . . . that was . . .”

Her chest was pushing against his as she took quick, deep breaths. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah, ‘oh my God’ just about covers it.” He chuckled breathlessly.

Lips against his shoulder, she whispered, “I’ve never . . . it’s never been like . . . this before.”

Pushing himself off her, he let her slide down and kissed her nose. “No. For me either.”

Her blue eyes were dreamy, but he saw serious thoughts lurking behind the haze. “What does that mean?”

He panicked; he couldn’t help it. It was one thing to think about feelings and being exclusive, but actually having the conversation . . . Terrifying.

So he did what any other guy would do when faced with a beautiful, naked woman wanting to discuss the fate of their relationship. He dumped her over his shoulder and said, “It means that we should do it again. Immediately.”

Walking down the hallway with his laughing prize, he dropped her on the bed and proceeded to distract her from any kind of “talks.” There would be plenty of time for that later.

THE NEXT MORNING, Katie came out of the bathroom with towels around her hair and body but stopped when she saw the rage on Chase’s face as he held up his jeans.

“He did it again. He pissed on my jeans again”

Katie bit her lip. It wasn’t funny. At all. “Why did you leave them on the ground?”

“Really? You’re blaming the victim?” he said with disbelief.

She laughed and took his jeans, leaning over to give him a kiss. “I’ll wash them for you.”

That got a smile out of him. “Oh, I’ve always wanted my laundry wench.”

Reaching out, she yanked on his earlobe. “I am just trying to keep the peace. I love Slinks and I’d hate to see him turned into a hat.”

“I said I’d turn him into slippers. There isn’t a head in the world big enough to wear that cat. What do you feed him, small dogs?”

She almost swatted him with his jeans, but she wouldn’t like being hit with cat pee pants, so she settled on excusing Slinks’s obesity instead. “He was traumatized as a kitten and he seeks comfort through food. He’s just a little beefy.”

Chase chuckled. “He’s not fat, just big boned?”

“Exactly.” Taking his pants down the hall, she transferred laundry, ignoring his mocking laughter. A basket of clean clothes in her arms, she came back into the room, set them on the bed, and pulled some under things out.

“So, where are you off to this morning?” he asked.

“It’s Sunday. I go to church, and then I’m going over to Steph and Jared’s for a barbecue,” she said.

Chase nodded. “Got it. I’ll just grab my jeans when they’re done and go.”

“You could come with me,” she said, moving closer to him as she took the towel off her head.

Chase snorted and said, “Sorry, Firecracker, but it would probably bring about the next apocalypse if I attended church.”

Reaching out to rub his shoulders, she said, “I’m sure whatever sins you’ve committed couldn’t be that bad.”

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he brought her down onto his lap. “Damn, you’re cold.” He ran his hands over her arms. “I’m a heathen. We never went to church when I was a kid, and I just haven’t found any use for it.”

---