Chasing Chelsea (NSFW Book 4)

by C. C. Wood

  It was a wild ride. Landen might have control of my body but neither of us had control over ourselves. I gasped and whimpered, over and over, as his hips slammed into mine. My clit pulsed and burned with each rough collision and I knew that I was going to come again.

  Wrapping my legs around Landen, I lifted my hips into each movement, creating more friction. He groaned and his mouth collided with mine, our tongues tangling and teeth nipping as the fire between us burned hotter and higher.

  I felt the muscles in my pussy tighten almost unbearably as I drew closer to the peak. I was so close, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

  Landen released my mouth, “Fuck, Chelsea.” Then he moved his hands, unwrapping his fingers from mine so that he could lever his upper body away from me and reach down between us. “I’m gonna come.” Then his thumb hit my clit and rolled hard. He was merciless, pushing me relentlessly toward climax.

  Every muscle in my body locked as the orgasm roared through me and I cried out. The pleasure was a wildfire, burning away my ability to think or speak. I couldn’t even breathe. The only thing that I felt, the only thing I knew, was Landen.

  He grabbed my hip, his fingers digging into my flesh as he slammed into me twice. Then he lowered his head and sucked hard at my nipple, groaning as he came.

  I made a loud noise, a cross between a moan and shout, as the feel of his mouth on my overly sensitive breast shot through me. The last convulsions of my orgasm grew stronger and I arched, trying to escape the overwhelming sensations.

  But Landen wouldn’t let me. He lapped at my nipple as he moved slowly, gliding in and out of me as though he were savoring the way my body shimmied and jerked beneath him.

  With one last lick, he lifted his head and looked down at me. We were both breathing heavily and damp with sweat. Then he put his hand on my sternum and trailed his fingers over my abdomen and my muscles quivered. When he reached my pubic bone, he dipped his fingers between us and held onto the condom as he pulled out.

  “Don’t move,” he murmured. “I’ll be right back.”

  I turned my head and watched as he left the bed, tugged off the condom, and walked into the bathroom that he hadn’t shown me earlier. I watched the play of muscles in his back and ass until he disappeared from view, thinking that he had an amazing body for a man who spent most of his day at a desk.

  Though he told me not to move, I turned over on my side and bent my arm at the elbow, propping up my head on my hand. I heard the toilet flush and water run in the sink for a moment. Then I perked up when I heard the dull roar of more water, this time in something much larger than a sink.

  Landen reappeared, his eyebrow lifting when he saw that I’d changed position on the bed.

  “I told you not to move,” he said as he approached the bed.

  I let my eyes wander over his body, enjoying the sight that I’d been too distracted to fully appreciate earlier. “I wanted to take in the view,” I replied.

  One corner of his mouth tilted up in a crooked grin. “Like what you see?”

  I gave him another once over. “Definitely.”

  When he reached the bed, he leaned over and hauled me to my feet. “I could say the same.”

  As he crowded me toward the bathroom, I smiled up at him. “Where are we going?”

  “To get wet.”

  I laughed. “Sounds naughty.”

  Landen chuckled as he pulled me through the door to the bathroom. Then I lost my train of thought. The bathroom was a dream. It was even better than his kitchen, which was saying something. It was enormous with black cabinets, white countertops, and gorgeous white marble flooring. A free-standing tub was positioned in front of a large window, rapidly filling with water. A huge glass shower was inset into one wall and his-and-her sinks were against the other. A door stood open in one corner to reveal the toilet and double doors were directly to our right. I assumed they led to the closet and if the size of the doors were anything to go by, it was probably just as big as the bathroom.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered.

  Landen walked to the tub and turned off the faucets. The tub was only half full, but it was deep and big enough for two. As I approached, I saw that it also had jets.

  “I think I’m in love,” I muttered.

  Landen stilled, his body going tight, and he turned toward me. “What?”

  “I’m sorry, Landen, but I need you to leave me alone with your tub for a moment. It’s love at first sight. If I can convince him, he’s coming home with me.”

  The tension drained out of his body then and he smiled, wide and bright. “I’m afraid the tub stays here with me.” He paused before saying, “But you can come over any time you want and visit him.”

  I lifted a brow at him. “Be careful what you offer me or I’ll be here every day to hog your bathroom and play in your kitchen.”

  “That doesn’t sound too bad,” he retorted. “A wet, naked woman in my bathtub and a meal I don’t have to cook every night. That would be nice.”

  “Who said I’d make enough for you?”

  He was still grinning when he reached out and wrapped an arm around my waist, bringing our bodies together. “What if I paid you back in orgasms?”

  I pretended to think about that. “That’s an interesting incentive, but I’m gonna need a little more than that.”

  He chuckled and used his grip on my waist to lift me up on my toes so he could touch his mouth to mine. “Multiple orgasms?”

  “Your tub could probably give me those,” I muttered, still giving him a hard time. He smacked my ass lightly, the contact just sharp enough to make me yelp. “Hey!”

  “Now, get in the tub and I’ll give you my down payment.”

  I stopped giving him shit and did as I was told because, despite my words, multiple orgasms were definitely enough incentive.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I woke to the low rumble of thunder. The bedroom was dim, making it difficult to tell what time it was, but I felt rested. Sated. I must have slept in.

  I shifted in the bed, reached out an arm, and encountered cool sheets. Lifting up on an elbow, I looked around and discovered I was alone in Landen’s gigantic bed. The bathroom door was open and the lights were off. Glancing at the nightstand in front of me, I realized there was no alarm clock. I checked the table on the other side of the bed. Still no clock.

  Frowning, I sat up, then I spied my purse sitting at the end of the bed next to a t-shirt and my panties. A reluctant smile curved my mouth as I climbed out of bed and walked to the foot of the mattress. My shoes were sitting next to each other, neatly, but my jumpsuit was nowhere to be seen.

  Apparently, Landen wanted me to wear his tee. I slipped on the shirt and my underwear before I unzipped my purse and pulled out my phone.

  10:08 a.m.

  My eyes widened. I hadn’t slept past nine in years. Clearly, Landen Weber-induced orgasms had a sedative effect. Tossing my phone on the bed, I wandered into the bathroom to take care of morning business. When I emerged from the little room that held the toilet, I walked to the sink, pausing when I saw a brand new toothbrush sitting on the counter next to a tube of toothpaste.

  As I washed my hands, I stared at the bright red toothbrush. It was a thoughtful gesture, which surprised me though it shouldn’t have. Landen had already proven that he could be thoughtful when he wanted to be. I opened the package and brushed my teeth. Once I was done, I was presented with another problem.

  Did I put it in the holder with his toothbrush? Tuck it in my purse? Shit, this was weird. Any other time and I would have used it, tossed it in the holder next to his, and gone about my business. But all the men I’d dated seemed to get weird if I left something at their house, even by accident. As though a toothbrush made a much bigger statement. And I didn’t want to do something to upset the easy flow that Landen and I had established.

  Landen and I had already had a discussion about exclusivity and he made it clear that he wanted me to himself and intended to gi
ve me the same. He also left this out for me, so maybe he wouldn’t get weirded out.

  I was still dealing with my internal debate when another clap of thunder rumbled through the house and I jolted. I decided to leave the damn thing on the counter and let Landen figure out what he wanted to do with it.

  I placed the toothbrush on the counter neatly beside the toothpaste and splashed my face with cool water, hoping that it would help me get my head on straight. Then I left the bathroom and exited the bedroom. Other than the sound of rain and the occasional boom of thunder outside, the house was silent.

  For a moment, I wondered if Landen had left me here alone. I walked slowly down the stairs. When I hit the bottom, I caught a whiff of coffee and felt an odd sense of relief.

  I meandered into the kitchen, taking in the house in the gloomy light of the cloudy day. Even with the overcast sky, there was a lot of natural light in each room, just as I suspected last night. On a bright day, it was likely to be full of sunshine.

  The kitchen was empty when I entered, but there was a clean cup, a sugar bowl, and a spoon next to the coffee maker. Clearly, Landen had left them out for me. I made myself a cup of coffee and went to the fridge to see if there was milk. To my surprise, Landen had flavored creamer.

  I finished making my coffee the way I liked it and returned the creamer to the fridge. Then I went in search of the man of the house.

  I walked through the living area and saw that the door to Landen’s office was open, so I moved down the hall toward it. I came to a halt just inside the door, mostly because it looked like a tech store had exploded inside the room.

  Landen hadn’t been lying last night when he said it was a mess. Wires, equipment, and monitors littered the floor. But what caught my full attention was the man sitting at the desk across the room.

  He lounged in his chair and I could see his legs stretched out beneath his desk, his ankles crossed and his feet bare. He wore loose cotton pants that gathered around his ankles. Though the enormous monitor hid his upper body, the top half of his face was visible behind the monitor and his focus was completely engrossed by whatever was on the screen. A cup of coffee steamed on the desk to his left but his hands were obviously on the keyboard because I could hear him typing rapidly.

  I shifted and he must have seen me out of the corner of his eye because his gaze snapped up and caught on me hovering in the doorway. Then he smiled.

  “Good morning,” he greeted. His voice was lazy and a little sleepy. Delicious.

  Then he stood, revealing the fact that he was shirtless. It wasn’t until then that I noticed his short hair was a mess, spiky and sticking up all over his head as though he’d been running his hands through it. Or maybe that was from me last night.

  Either way, he looked relaxed, as though he’d just woken up, and insanely yummy. I watched as he came around the desk, miraculously missing all the detritus on the floor.

  His smile widened as he approached. “Are you still asleep?” he teased.

  I realized I was essentially drooling at the sight of him and forced myself to sip from my cup. “Mostly,” I replied. “Morning. Thanks for making coffee.”

  He stopped just in front of me and slipped his arms around my waist, pulling my hips flush with his. “I know how you get without your caffeine fix in the morning.”

  Who in the heck was this guy? The arrogance he typically wore like a shield was gone, completely and utterly. The dominating and demanding man from last night had vanished as well. In his place was a man who smiled easily and teased me openly, even affectionately.

  It was as if Landen Weber had multiple versions of himself. Clones maybe? Or maybe robots. He was brilliant enough to pull it off.

  He stared down at me, his expression still amused. “Earth to Chelsea,” he murmured.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, lifting my coffee cup. “I can’t seem to get my brain in gear this morning.”

  I didn’t think it was possible, but his grin got bigger. Huge. And he looked pleased with himself.

  “You’re cute when you first wake up,” he commented, taking the mug from my hand and setting it on the shelf to my left.

  I let that comment go and ignored the flutter in my belly at his words. I wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet and debating the sexist undertones to his words would not go well for me until I was topped up on caffeine and completely focused. Instead, I stared at the shelves I hadn’t noticed when I entered. All the walls in his office had built-in shelves. Some were full from floor to ceiling, others had cabinets on the bottom and shelves above, and they were jam-packed with books. This wasn’t just an office. It was a library. In fact, it was the kind of library I dreamed of having one day.

  He seemed to expect a response, so I just hummed. “Mhhhhm.” Then I face-planted on his bare chest because it seemed like the thing to do. I mean, it was bare and right in front of me, so why not?

  Landen chuckled. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes,” I murmured. And that was no lie. I’d worked up one hell of an appetite last night.

  “Feel like playing in my kitchen?”

  His question evoked mental images that had nothing to do with cooking breakfast and I shivered in his arms.

  His hold on me tightened and he laughed softly. “Cooking in my kitchen, I mean. Though we can definitely play later if you want to.”

  I nipped his pectoral, making him suck in a sharp breath before I lifted my head and answered, “I’m starving, but it’s rude to make your guests cook their own breakfast.”

  Landen’s mouth brushed mine in a light lip touch. “Good point. But maybe you can feed me later.” The double entendre in his words hit me and I pinched his side. Not hard, but just enough to make him jerk and laugh. “You didn’t seem to mind last night,” he teased.

  This was true. I hadn’t minded at all. Landen was definitely good with his mouth. And other things. Well, all the things.

  My stomach chose that moment to growl, low and long, which made him laugh again. He released me and went to his desk to grab his mug. I picked up my own cup and followed him out of the office and into the kitchen.

  After we entered, he moved to the fridge. “Pancakes or eggs, bacon, and toast?” he asked.

  “You can make pancakes?” I questioned.

  He shot me an amused glance. “I can read the instructions on a box of pancake mix,” he answered.

  “Pancakes and eggs and bacon,” I replied. I was starving and I wasn’t going to pretend I didn’t eat. He’d spent enough time around me at business dinners with Chris to know that I liked food.

  Landen shook his head, but I studied him as he moved around the kitchen. I watched in shock as he pulled a cast iron griddle out of a cabinet and carried it to the stove, placing it across two of the gas burners.

  “You have a griddle?”

  “Yes, Chelsea, I have a griddle,” he answered dryly. “It’s a common piece of kitchen equipment.”

  I shut my mouth then. I didn’t want to irritate him before he made me pancakes. Landen disappeared into the pantry and returned with a box of pancake mix before heading to the fridge.

  In a few minutes, he had bacon sizzling on the griddle and the box of pancake mix back in his hand as he looked at the instructions.

  “Want some help?” I offered.

  Landen looked over to where I sat at the island where he had four bar stools lined up. “Now you want to help?” he asked.

  I grinned. “Just thought I’d volunteer if you needed it.”

  He shook his head and reached into the cabinet above the counter to grab a mixing bowl with a spout. I didn’t comment on that, but I wanted to. I didn’t know many men who had mixing bowls, much less the kind with a spout.

  “No. You asked me to make you breakfast and that’s what I’m going to do, especially since I have some ideas of how you can pay me back later.”

  “Oh, this requires payback?” I teased. “Then what do I get for the meal I cooked for you last week?”

/>   The look he shot me was dark and full of heat. “You got that last night.”

  At the expression on his face, my amusement faded somewhat because now I was turned on. The memories of everything we did last night were burned into my brain. I would probably never admit it to him, but it was quite possible he’d ruined me for all other men in less than twelve hours.

  Instead, I decided to reply in kind. “What about ideas that I might have for payback?”

  His brows rose and the heat in his expression intensified. “I could be convinced to listen.”

  This time I did laugh because we were bickering over who got to decide what sexual favors were appropriate payment for meals. It was a ridiculous conversation, but sexy too.

  He smiled and went back to measuring and mixing up the batter for pancakes. As I watched him, it was clear that he’d done this many times before and I wondered idly how many women had eaten a breakfast cooked by Landen Weber.

  I believed him when he said that he hadn’t had a woman in his bed since he bought the new one, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t making breakfast in someone else’s kitchen on a regular basis.

  I sipped my coffee and wondered if I should broach the subject of past relationships. Then I made the decision to let it go for now. Though it was cloudy and pouring rain outside, we were having an awesome morning and I didn’t want to cast a pall over it.

  It was the morning after our first night together and Landen didn’t seem to be in any hurry for me to leave. I didn’t want to start a conversation that might change his attitude.

  And watching him move around the kitchen in nothing but a pair of cotton pants was plenty to keep my mind occupied. His motions were controlled and efficient. The muscles in his torso shifted as he reached for his coffee cup to sip while he flipped bacon. After the bacon was done and set on a paper towel-covered plate to drain, I had to bite my lip to prevent drooling when he lifted the bowl of pancake batter and his bicep flexed.

  Landen wasn’t bulky, his muscles were lean, and he didn’t have the insanely cut abs that graced the covers of so many of my romance novels, but he also didn’t have a lot of fat on his abdomen. He looked fit and oh-so-touchable.