The Chase

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The Chase Page 10

by Rhyannon Byrd


  ‘I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I don’t blame you, Jase. And they don’t deserve you.’

  ‘Yeah, well,’ I husk, brushing a quick kiss across her lips, ‘do you know who does? You. And right now, you’re going to get me.’

  She blinks at the sudden change in the conversation, but why in the hell would I want to keep talking about Alistair and Caroline when I have this warm, wonderful woman in my arms?

  I pick her up, carrying her into the bedroom, and come down over her on the sprawling king-sized bed. I don’t waste any time, gripping my cock and notching the head against her, then carefully work my way back inside, going as slow as I can, loving how her tight cunt always makes me work for it.

  I reach down and grip the back of her knee, pulling her leg up over my hip, and I love how wide her eyes get when I go even deeper. I’m good at reading women, especially when it comes to sex – but I’ve never been so in-tune with a woman that I felt like I was in her head. But that’s how it is with Emmy. I’ve thought it before, but I honestly feel like she was made for me. Or hell, maybe I was made for her.

  Maybe everything about me was put together in a way that I could be what this incredible woman needs.

  So that I could be the man who gives her whatever she wants and craves and longs for.

  And maybe, just maybe, one day be the man that she loves.

  Chapter Seven

  Thursday evening

  EMMY

  One week ago today, I found the gorgeous Jase Beckett parked on the curb outside my apartment. And while it was the last thing in the world that I’d expected, there’s no denying that this past week has been the absolute best of my life.

  We’ve done some more sightseeing, taking in the world-famous zoo and spending a day soaking up the sun in La Jolla. But we’ve also just taken a lot of chill time, sunbathing by the hotel’s pool and walking on the beach. And we’ve worked as well, sitting on the sofa in his suite with the balcony doors open, the sea-scented breeze filling the room as we click away on our laptops, me doing research for the Luxe articles and Jase handling his various business dealings that span the globe.

  And while Alistair is back at home from the hospital, refusing the rehabilitation center the doctors recommended for him, Cameron is continuing to cause trouble. There’s a logical part of me that knows Jase needs to get back to London to deal with the issue in person, and yet I’m terrified of talking to him about it, because I know what it will mean.

  That I have to make a choice.

  That I have to decide.

  But even though I’m not ready for that yet, I’ve gone all in with Jase. Our physical connection is only growing hotter and more intense, each searing sexual encounter somehow deepening our emotional connection. We fuck hard and raw and aggressively, but with a passion unlike anything I’ve ever known or even dreamed of. I know every inch of his rock-hard, god-like body, and I crave it with every part of me. Every breath. Every cell.

  And the way he is with me, sometimes tender, sometimes not – it’s like he’s in my head, sensing what I need to get off before I even know it myself. And when he goes all dark and dominant, ordering me to get on my hands and knees for him, I remember the day that we first met, and how I’d sensed his desire to order me around.

  That crap might not fly outside of the bedroom, but I’d be lying through my teeth if I said it didn’t make me hot as hell when it comes to our so-good-it’s-insane sex life.

  We’ve spent the week here at the Del, and he’s had me in every corner of the suite. On every surface. Against every wall. In fact, I’ve thought a few times that it’s a good thing the suite doesn’t have any connecting walls with another room, or I’m pretty sure we would have already gotten a call from management.

  Then again, the hotel management seem thrilled to have Jase here, so they probably wouldn’t say a word. But despite how desperate they are to bend over backward for him, I love that he doesn’t treat the staff like they’re here to serve him. He’s friendly, appreciative, and I have a feeling that most of the women working here are already half in love with him. Maybe a few of the men, too.

  One night, when there was a rare summer storm raging out over the Pacific, Jase even took me out on the balcony – and when I say took, I mean fucked me to the point that I was screaming from the force of my orgasms, and he’d had to cover my mouth with his warm palm as he kept pumping into my body, making me come again . . . and again.

  And then there’s the shower, which is one of my favorites.

  Without a doubt, I’m becoming addicted to showering with Jase, and . . . Well, it kind of worries me. Mostly because I’m becoming addicted to every single thing about him – the way he laughs, the sound of his voice, the things he says – and I can’t help but stress about how long this little bubble we’re living in is going to last. He says he’s staying, but for how long? It’s like we’re living a fairytale, and sooner or later, we’re going to have to step out of the pages and face reality.

  He calls himself my boyfriend, but what does that really mean? Eventually he’ll have to go back and deal with the empire he’s built. Does he expect me to go with him? Do I want to? Or is he thinking we’ll do the whole long distance thing? And if that’s his plan, then how on earth will it work? Because I don’t think I could stand to be apart from him for any significant length of time, and I sure as hell hope he feels the same.

  It’s all enough to make my head pound when I think about it, but I’m not going to worry about it tonight. My new motto is Life is short and our moments of happiness are fleeting. So don’t waste them. Enjoy them! And that’s exactly what I intend to do.

  While we were walking along the beach yesterday, Jase told me that he wanted to get to know Tyler better, since it’s obvious that Ty and I are close and he’s like my family. So we called Ty and made plans for the three of us to go out together tonight. Ty suggested one of our favorite hangouts in the Gaslamp Quarter, and I thought it was a great idea. The place is decorated like an old-fashioned pub, and it has great food, delicious drinks, and an awesome karaoke stage that we’ve made fools of ourselves on more than once over the years.

  As I finish the last touches on my make-up, Jase comes into the bathroom to tell me we need to leave soon, though I think he really just wanted an excuse to come in and see what I’m wearing. I’ve chosen the pretty, floral swing dress that I wore during our weekend together in Kent, since Jase packed up all the beautiful clothes and shoes that he’d bought for me and brought them with him.

  When he sees what I’ve chosen to wear, a sin-drenched smile kicks up the corner of his mouth. He comes up behind me and places his hands on my hips as he meets my gaze in the mirror, so tall he’s towering over me, and says, ‘You got your Star Wars knickers on under there, Em?’

  ‘Why?’ I ask, smirking at him. ‘You looking to join the rebellion?’

  He runs his big hands up and down my sides as he laughs, and I can tell exactly where his mind has gone. ‘I can’t wait to get you back here tonight and out of this dress.’ His voice is a low, sexy rumble that fits perfectly with the smoldering heat in his sky-blue eyes. ‘I never got to work my way up underneath it last time, because you ran off into the shower.’

  ‘I kind of had to, Jase. I was freezing my butt off after your ex-girlfriend dumped her Pimm’s down my back.’

  We share a laugh at the memory, and I know we’re both planning a better ending for him, me, and the infamous dress this time around.

  We head out and make good time into the city, and though things are a bit stiff between him and Tyler when we all meet up, the tension doesn’t last long once their mutual love of rugby is discovered. As they get fired up talking about teams and players, I just sit back and watch, wishing I hadn’t left my phone back at the Del so that I could record them, because they’re hilarious. If I weren’t so in love with Jase, I’d think he and Tyler were the perfect couple, Jase so dark and Ty so blond, and more mouthwatering muscles betw
een the two of them than any two men could ever deserve.

  I’m reaching for my drink when I suddenly freeze, my hand still in midair as shock pulses through my body like an explosion. Holy . . . shit. Did I really just think that? Did I honestly just say, in my head, that I’m in love with Jase?

  I . . . I love him?

  I lower my shaking hand and take a deep breath, the guys completely oblivious for the moment to the emotional bomb that’s just landed on me, and as I slowly exhale, I realize that it’s true. I’m panicking, but God, of course it’s true. I’m crazy about the guy. Completely gone for him. I fucking love Jase Beckett! And not in the brotherly, familial way that I love Ty.

  No, this is the real deal. The ‘lay my body down on a sword for him’ kind of love. ‘Pack up my life and follow him across the world’ kind of love. The ‘stand in front of our friends one day and join my life with his’ kind of love, and I wonder what I look like right now. If my panic is showing on my face, making me look like a deer that’s been caught in a set of headlights.

  Only . . . maybe it’s not panic at all.

  Maybe I’m just excited.

  And maybe, just maybe, I’ll somehow find the courage to tell him how I feel.

  JASE

  I never thought I would be sitting in a bar in the Gaslamp Quarter in downtown San Diego, watching my stunning girlfriend sing a drunken rendition of the Spice Girls’ ‘Wannabe’ with her best friend, the two of them using British accents that are some of the worst I’ve ever heard. But I am, and I can’t remember a time when I’ve ever laughed so hard and often, or felt so at home, even though this isn’t my home at all.

  Then again, this is Emmy’s home, so maybe it is. Maybe it has been since I first stepped off the plane last week, and I just needed to open my eyes to see it and accept it.

  She belts out a particularly loud, off-key note, and my head goes back as I laugh, thinking she’s a riot. A beautiful, currently sloppy, fascinating riot, and the woman I damn well plan to spend the rest of my life with.

  Every day.

  Every night.

  I’ve known her for such a short time, but it doesn’t matter. She’s become the very pulse point of my existence, and I’m no longer trying to fight it.

  All that’s left is for me to man up and tell her how I feel. That I’ve fallen completely head-over-heels in love with her.

  This is new territory for me, because I’ve never been in love before, so I’ve never needed to say the words. But I need to say them now, because they’re the most real truth in my world. Every other thing in my life might be turning to chaos, but it doesn’t matter, because the only thing that I actually need is this one precious little American blonde who can slay me with a smile. Seduce me with a look. And if I can manage to make her love me back, I’ll be the luckiest man in the world.

  After the song ends, they relinquish the microphone to the next group, and I have to smile when I notice how they’re leaning on each other for support as they make their way back to the table. I’ve never seen Emmy so tipsy, and it’s fucking adorable.

  We order a fresh round of soft drinks for everyone, since they’ve decided to call it quits on the booze, and as we wait for our drinks, Tyler says that I should let him teach me how to surf.

  ‘No way!’ Emmy practically shouts in the guy’s face, before I can even respond. She turns her head, giving me an imploring look as she says, ‘There are sharks in the Pacific. Big, scary-ass, man-eating sharks, Jase, and I happen to like all your body parts right where they are, thank you very much.’

  ‘You saying you only want me for my body, sweetheart?’ I tease her, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her closer, until she’s plastered up against me on our side of the booth.

  ‘Naw,’ she whispers, giving me a slightly crooked, endearing grin. ‘I’d keep you no matter what.’

  Her quiet words hit me in the chest with the force of a punch, nearly knocking the air from my lungs. ‘Yeah?’ I husk, wondering how much shit Tyler will give me if I lower my head and kiss the hell out of her, like I’m dying to do.

  ‘Yeah,’ she murmurs, cupping the side of my face with one of her soft hands. ‘You’re nice to look at, Mr Beckett, but I wouldn’t be here right now, having spent the week that we’ve just spent together, if that’s what I was interested in. It’s who you are on the inside that makes me all swoony.’

  My chest burns with emotion, so I just say fuck it and do what I want. What I have to, which is claiming that sweet mouth of hers in a long, wet, this-woman-is-mine kind of kiss, because this girl . . . She’s just made me feel like a king.

  When we finally break apart for air, Tyler laughingly proclaims that it’s time for the lovebirds to get a room. We pay the bill, and he orders an Uber, since the Ferrari only has two seats.

  After Ty and I shake hands, and Emmy gives him a tight hug, we head out. It’s late, and we’re one of the only cars on the road as we make our way towards the sweeping Coronado Bridge, the lights of the city sparkling around us. Emmy is sitting in the passenger seat with her head back, eyes closed and a beautiful smile on her pink lips, more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her. And even though she’s been drinking, I sense that this is more than just the alcohol. Something’s different, that guard of hers almost nonexistent now, and I can’t help but wonder what’s caused the change. Was it one specific moment, or all the little ones that we’ve shared since we first met two weeks ago? Two weeks that feel like so much more, and suddenly I know that I’ve made my decision.

  Emmy might not have family here in San Diego, but she and Tyler, they’re closer than any family I’ve ever known. And it’s clear that she loves this city like it’s her own. So since I can’t take her away from it, I’m just going to have to ask her if she’ll let me move in with her while I search for the perfect beach house for us to live in together. Or hell, maybe she’ll just decide to stay out at the Del with me until we find our dream home.

  But first, I need to tell her that I’ve fallen in love with her. And I’m going to do that just as soon as we get back to the Del. Well, as soon as I’ve stripped off her sexy dress and buried myself in her mouthwatering cunt, because I want to be inside her when I do it. To have that connection with her, so that she can feel as well as hear the words.

  We’re hitting all the green lights as we head down a road that’s taking us through an area that seems to be little more than warehouses, and I’m wondering if I’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere, when it happens. One second I’m reaching over to take Emmy’s hand in mine, and in the next a truck slams into the side of the Ferrari, sending us into a spin until we hit a divider in the middle of the road and flip up into the air, rolling twice before coming to a jarring stop upside down, the air bag pinning me to my seat.

  I must black out for a few seconds, because when I blink my eyes open, I hear sirens in the distance. I’m thinking that someone, maybe the driver of the truck, has already called the emergency services, when I hear a man say, ‘We need to take care of this and get out of here. Someone must have heard what’s happened and called the cops.’

  ‘Put the fucking gun away,’ another man growls, and I manage to turn my head enough to see their legs just outside my crumpled door. ‘The Brit paid us to make his death look like an accident, not a murder!’

  What the . . . ? What Brit? An accident? Murder?

  Fuck! I turn my head toward Emmy, terrified of what I’m going to find. The truck hit my side, thankfully, but because of the violence of the crash, the entire car is crunched around us. She’s unconscious, hanging against the seatbelt that’s holding her in place, her air bag deployed as well, but I don’t see any major injuries. I’m muttering prayers and promises under my breath that she’s okay as I hear heavy footsteps retreating, and hope like hell that the bastards who are responsible have decided to run. I would’ve loved the chance to beat the shits to within an inch of their lives, and force some information out of them, but right now my only focus is on Emmy and
getting her out of this sodding car.

  Because I smell fuel, and I’m not going to wait for the paramedics to get here to move her in case this thing is about to go up in flames.

  With a lot of cursing and groaning, I manage to climb out through the driver-side window, feeling like I’ve gone twenty rounds with a heavyweight boxer. I’m pretty sure I’m leaking blood from somewhere on my head because I have to wipe my face a few times before I can see anything, but I don’t give a fuck. All I care about is getting to Emmy, and I ignore the various aches in my body as I limp my way around the front of the car.

  ‘Emmy, baby, come on,’ I murmur over and over, as I work to get her free of her seatbelt. Finally, after what feels like forever, I’m sitting on the curb at the side of the road, rocking her unconscious body in my arms as the sirens grow closer. I know I probably shouldn’t have moved her, but for all I know the car is going to catch fire at any moment, and I wasn’t leaving her inside.

  When the paramedics arrive, it takes everything I’ve got to force my arms to loosen their hold as they pull her away from me, then lay her on a trolley. I’m scared shitless, and they’re surrounding her, making it impossible to see what they’re doing to her. Eventually, they load her into the back of an ambulance, and a cop drives me behind them. He asks me questions about the accident, but I don’t tell him what I overheard. There’s no way to prove it, and the police are already searching for the truck, since the driver is at fault for a hit-and-run.

  They take Emmy to the UCSD hospital in Hillcrest, and wheel her immediately into surgery, though no one will tell me what for. I spend the next thirty minutes worrying myself sick, while a group of nurses and a doctor determinedly look me over despite my assertions that I’m fine and they need to leave me the hell alone.

  It’s Emmy who’s in trouble.

  She nearly died because of me. Because some fuckwit tried to kill me tonight.

 

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