Page 59 of The Chase

To surprise him, she’d changed into a lace playsuit, again, Ash had met that shopping request with aplomb, and donned the original ‘fuck shoes’ as he called them, from that very first time they’d met. Her gold Manolo Blanik stilettos. He’d told her they were fuck shoes. She had been outraged and turned on. And outraged that he’d turned her on. So she thought it would be fun to put them on and wait for him on the bed while he went outside for a smoke. His only smoke of the day, she noted proudly. When he came back in she’d been lying on her stomach, her knees bent, bouncing her feet back and forth playfully. She asked him to show her what he meant by fuck shoes. His eyes had blacked out, so they were just giant dark pupils. He warned her that he wouldn’t be gentle, she was counting on it. He had been merciless. She’d been thrown against or on top of every piece of furniture in their room. The desk, the chest of drawers. Bent forwards, bent backwards. Commanded to scream, commanded to sit on his cock. She’d done it all, she’d taken it. She had wanted to feel what he was capable of. Now she knew.

He’d revealed the tattoos he got for her. She couldn’t believe it. The little kitten, playful, on the sensitive, pale flesh inside his hip bone, on his lower groin. Then the large, fierce looking lioness, staring back at her with a look of haughty imperialism, over his butt cheek. Peeking above the top of his waistband, inviting intrigue, and also peeking below on his upper thigh. She was speechless. They were for her, and they looked incredible on his skin. “For you, my kitten, my fucking fierce little spitting kitten. My lioness, queen of the Savannah, ruler of my heart,” he whispered as he nipped her ear lobe, then her collarbone. She stifled a gasp and took that moment for her own reveal. She’d shown him the bandage on her own lower hip area. At first he frowned and looked concerned, asking if she was hurt. She shook her head, peeled off the gauze and revealed her own tattoo. A skittish young horse, a colt, galloping forwards. He hissed in satisfaction, a look of pure bliss on his face, and kissed her continuously for the rest of the evening. Eyes closed, reckless kisses, that had gone rolling on and on. He slipped inside her but hardly moved, it had been bliss and agony at the same time for her until finally, he’d picked up the pace and finished them both off, their marks on each other’s skin fueling them for eternity.

* * *

April was layingon the sofa, her head in Colt’s lap. She was staring into the fire, watching the yellow flames light the wood, turning to orange and red embers. She was tired, so physically tired. The yoga, fresh air and calmer pace made her feel sleepy. But her mind was whirring away. She had a plan. She knew what she had to do. She thought about it every evening they had been here. Run it through a thousand times in her mind, trying different scenarios and variables, like a computer trying to work out a math problem. She had alighted on a plan, but she was scared. It would involve divulging something that she hadn’t told him, that she should have right from the beginning. She knew it was a form of betrayal, what she kept from him. She didn’t want to jeopardize what they had. She knew he’d be angry, hurt, and she should have revealed it earlier, much earlier. Like at the beginning. Why hadn’t she? She put it off, hadn’t wanted to give him any excuse to leave her behind, or to not get involved with her. Because she had known this would bother him.

And she couldn’t even tell him about it now. She was going to wait until the last possible moment. She wanted to eke out as much blissful enjoyment from this as possible. Was Colt going to like this plan? Maybe he’d come around, after time. But at first, he would not be happy.

It was a starting point. And they had to go with that.

“Colt,” she said, her voice sticking in her throat after a long stretch of silence. His eyes met hers and they were filled with such love. She felt sick.

“April,” he replied, calm intimacy dancing in his eyes.

She cleared her throat before speaking again. “I’ve got a plan.”

He perked an eyebrow up and his gaze dropped to her lips. “A plan? To get the MC off our backs? To end the chase?”

“Yes.”

“You did say you’d think our way out of this... I’m all ears.”

She traced her tongue around her lips nervously. “We have to meet someone,” she began.

He frowned, “Who?” he said, an octave lower than before.

She felt his guard coming up. That shutter slamming down. Going into siege mode. Isolate and survive.

“Colt, you have to trust me on this. I can’t say, I’ll just message him and we’ll arrange to meet-”

“Him? Who, April?” he growled. “If it’s that fucking college douchebag ex-fiancé -”

“No! Colt, trust me, why would I go running back to him?”

“For money? I dunno, you’ve had your fill of dirty fucks with me and you want to go back-”

She raised her hand and cut him off bluntly. “Never going to happen. Don’t even go there, Colt, I know you’re angry but don’t pick at that scab again-”

“Then why can’t you say-”

“I just can’t, okay? And when we go to meet him, you’ll understand why. You’re not going to be pleased-”

“I’m not pleased now.”

“-But this person will be able to fix things. I’m confident of it,” she said, trying to sound certain.

He looked anything but pleased. He looked furious. “So we’re going to meet someone, who isn’t your country club cock and isn’t the cops...” He paused and looked at her pointedly.

She tilted and rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I can’t believe I have to reassure you. I’m not turning you in or dumping you.”

“Oh, well, that’s fucking good to know,” he ground out cagily.

She grabbed her phone. Colt eyed her with mistrust. Instead of texting, she navigated on the internet to a gardening fan blog site. Colt raised his eyebrows. She let him watch. April logged in, knowing her email address and password, typing them out furiously. She navigated a few pages. Colt peered down at the screen. Something about planting blue dahlias. She flung a look at Colt, who was watching what she was doing intently. He must think she’d gone mad. She quickly scrolled to the comments section and typed a question; can you plant blue dahlias in April?

Colt now flicked his look up to April. Clearly, he was confused. She wanted to allay his fears, but truth be told he had every right to be mistrustful. She felt she had broken his trust. The moment to speak up, to say something, would have been back in the MC clubhouse when they were being taken into that inner room. That had been the time to pipe up. Or later, when it transpired the MC had intel from somewhere about where to look, what vehicle they were in. She’d been so caught up in the chase that it had never seemed like the right time. She’d been selfish, she hadn’t wanted Colt to get angry and drive off without her early on, then later, she hadn’t wanted to ruin the mood. Relinquish an opportunity for them to be intimate. She realized now the full repercussions of it all.

“Now what?” Colt asked, cutting through her thoughts. He nodded down to the phone in her hands.

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