by Lynne Silver
“Can you lift me up to dunk?”
Given her five-foot-three-inch height, it was unlikely she could raise Luca high enough to make a decent shot. “I think you should work on your foul shots.” At least she thought that’s what they were called. Neither of her parents had been big sports fanatics. She wondered if she’d have to learn now she had a kid.
*
Chase looked at the time on his phone and practically growled with discontent. It was ten thirty at night. Samara had probably given up on him. Again. They’d had barely more than a minute alone in days. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was a plot against them. And then he growled for real as he realized that’s exactly what his team was doing. He hadn’t managed to get more than a glimpse of her since ditching her at the basketball court three days ago.
Teaching the fifteen-year-olds about camouflage? Manning the video surveillance of the front gate? Scanning thousands and thousands of grainy images of people passing through European airports looking for Paulson’s hired guns? Important work, all of it, but it had never been expected to be done back to back to back. They clearly thought he was an idiot if they thought he wouldn’t notice his colleagues calling him for very important duties as soon as he completed another.
Christ, Jonesie probably thought he was ignoring her. He’d been making such progress too. Oh well, nothing like a little challenge. He decided to go to her apartment anyway. If she was sleeping, he’d simply climb in bed with her.
She wasn’t sleeping, but she didn’t look happy to see him from where she was curled on the ancient couch in the tiny living room slash entryway.
“I’m reading.”
“Anything good?” he asked, ignoring her hint and stepping into the apartment anyway. She would never state the obvious and ask where he’d been. To do so would announce that she’d noticed his absence. Samara wouldn’t do that. No feminine wiles for her.
“It is good, as a matter of fact. Thea loaned it to me.”
He stretched his arms over his head. “Christ, I’m tired.” He added a fake yawn that turned into a real one.
“Your bed is that way,” Samara motioned toward the front door.
“Yours is more comfortable.” Totally ignoring her glare, he yanked off his t-shirt, toed off his shoes and strolled toward her bedroom.
“What are you doing?” She stood in the bedroom doorway, one hand on her hip, giving him the death stare.
“Going to bed.”
“I didn’t give permission for you to sleep here.”
“I’m not asking permission.” He climbed under the thick burgundy comforter and challenged her silently to kick him out. “C’mere.”
No response, but she didn’t run away either. He took that as a good sign. “I want to talk to you. Please come here.” He patted the space next to him.
Finally, with a drawn-out sigh, she sat next to him, over the covers. No snuggling. Yet. “I haven’t been ignoring you,” he told her.
“I didn’t accuse you.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”
She pouted. “You’re free to spend your nights however you choose, Chase. We had no commitment to each other.”
“Yes we did. I like you a hell of a lot, Samara, and I wouldn’t ditch Luca like that. You know that, right?”
Her lips parted slightly, she was listening hard.
“Shep’s been orchestrating our separation. It took me a few days to figure it out, but I’ve been called into meetings or assigned tasks with no breaks for three days. I’ve been worked from morning until night to ensure I couldn’t come to you until after you fell asleep.”
“What about tonight?” she asked.
“I left. They had me doing some menial task that one of the newbies should be doing. I handed it off and walked out.”
“Will you get in trouble?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Define trouble. Could they do anything worse than separate me from you?”
A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
“Believe me?”
“Yes.”
“Then come here.”
She melted into his arms, planting a soft kiss on the skin above his nipple. When he curled his palm around her butt, she sat up. “I thought you were tired.”
“Not too tired to pleasure my girl.”
She snuggled back against him with a shy smile. “Am I your girl?”
“You know it.”
She laughed. “I shouldn’t let that make me feel so good, like I’m in high school and I get to wear your varsity jacket, but I like it. It makes me feel like I belong.”
“You do. You belong to me.” Whoops. He hurried to cover up the caveman comment. “I mean, not like in a slave, owner kind of way. We belong to each other.” He didn’t stop to examine the belonging sentiment. He’d never felt this way about a woman, but for some reason he wasn’t freaking out about belonging with Samara either. He admired the heck out of her, thought her brand of smartness was ultra sexy. No, he wasn’t going to examine his commitment.
“Stop worrying, Chase. I understood what you meant.” Her hands smoothed his abdominal muscles, which tensed at his stupid belonging comment, then relaxed into her caress. “In a weird, anti-feminist way, I like belonging to you.”
“Are you saying I can slap a collar on you and order you on your knees?” He glanced down to gauge her reaction to the question.
A red flush covered her cheeks and he laughed.
“I was kidding. I’ve never gone for the whole domination thing. But if you really want me to tie you up and spank you, I’m willing. It’d be a sacrifice, but I could handle it. For you.”
“Thanks,” she said wryly. “You’re so giving.”
“That’s me,” he agreed.
She twisted on his lap to sit up and whisper at him. “I think Thea and her husband are into…that kind of stuff.”
He paused the hand that was about to crawl under Samara’s shirt. “What makes you think that?”
“Well, I’m only guessing, but that necklace she always wears is tight enough to be a collar. And the other day Ryan visited the lab and Thea… I don’t know how to explain it. She got kind of quiet and submissive. Do you think he’s her dominant?” She sounded almost excited by the question.
He had to chuckle. It was totally unlike straitlaced Doctor Jones to have prurient interest in another couple’s sex life. “I don’t know and, honestly, I don’t want to know. What Thea and Ryan do is their business. I’m more interested in our business.”
“Oh?” she asked, in a suddenly sultry voice.
“Yeah. Come under the covers, baby. I have something to show you.”
She burst out laughing. “Do you?” But she complied anyway, and as soon as she was snuggled under the quilt, her hand grabbed his hard cock, which was exactly the thing he’d wanted to show her.
“Go easy,” he groaned. “It’s been three days. I’m dying here.”
“It’s a good thing I’m a doctor. I can save you.”
“Yes, save me,” he begged, but a deeper unspoken part of him knew she already had. His hips thrust into her soft hand, and his mouth found hers for a deep, open kiss. She released his cock and climbed up his body to hug him and wrap him like a blanket while they kissed.
Finally he pulled away. “Your clothes need to go.” He tore off her shirt, ripping buttons in the process.
“Chase,” she chastised. “Those arrived two days ago. I have a limited wardrobe. Don’t ruin what little I have.”
“Sorry.” But he wasn’t. Not really. Not if it meant getting to feel the soft skin of her chest against his. And glory hallelujah, she was wearing one of the sexy bras he’d bought for her. Granted, she hadn’t much choice since he’d stolen all her other ones, but he loved seeing it on her anyway. The reality of her full breasts overflowing the black lace cups was infinitely better than his imagination.
Shopping in the nearby department store’s lingerie depar
tment had been an exercise in not getting arrested. Every glance at a bra and panty set nearly brought him to his knees imagining prim Doctor Jones wearing it. If any woman had seen the sizeable erection he sported while strolling the aisles, she would’ve run in the other direction and gone for mall security.
New rule, he told himself, bring Samara next time. Oh the fun they could have in the tiny dressing room trying the stuff on. Or taking it off. Yeah, taking it off. He groaned and fitted his cock to the silky vee of her trousers.
“Off,” he ordered. “Unless I can rip these also.”
She set a new record for zipping out from under the covers, losing the pants and speeding back in to press their nearly naked bodies head to toe.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered. “I’ve missed this.”
God so had he.
He’d come to her. She’d wanted to kill him when he burst into her tiny apartment and ripped off his shirt as if he owned the place. His absence had disturbed her. She hadn’t realized quite how much until he filled her doorway with his big, strong body.
Her body had instantly come alive, quivering with need to be held by him. But it was more than that and she was a fool if she tried to tell herself it was simply sex. She’d missed him. Other than Thea and Luca, her days around the campus were lonely. She should’ve been used to it. She’d spent years, most of her life, without a crowd of friends, but a few days of Chase in her life made the quiet without him that much worse.
It was hard to continue kissing him when the smile kept sneaking out onto her lips. He was here. In her bed. They had to make the most of this before his location was discovered and he was called back to work.
Anger burned in her gut that Shep was willing to force her to work here, but unwilling to allow his soldiers to fraternize with her. How dare he? But she shoved the anger aside and focused on the gorgeous man in her bed.
He dominated the mattress as if it were made for his body. Her hands struggled to reach every inch of skin she could while their lips fought to get as close as possible. “I want to be on the bottom.”
He pulled back and met her gaze. “I want to feel you on top of me, pressing me into the bed,” she said.
“Can’t argue with that,” he groaned, and rolled them to put him on top.
Her thighs spread and she wrapped her calves around his lower back. His erection pushed against her in the best possible way. “You need to lose your shorts.” Her hands lowered to unfasten the button. Between the two of them and much wriggling, they managed to lose his shorts.
“No underwear?”
“Haven’t had time to do laundry.”
She rolled her eyes and gave his upper arm a little punch. She was not offering to do his laundry. She was working a full-time job. She had a kid. She needed someone to do her own laundry. “If you bring me some things, I’ll toss them in with my laundry.”
He propped his upper body up on his elbows. “Really? You would do that for me?”
“You have to fold it. And I mean fold it neatly. All of it, my clothes included. Although most of my clothes are dry clean only.”
“Yes ma’am,” he whispered in her ear. “Keep giving me orders about domestic things. It’s making me hot.”
She tightened her legs and undulated her hips. “There’s dirty dishes in the sink. You can do them when we’re done here.”
“No problem. But since we’re going to be awhile, the dishes will have to wait.”
They stopped joking about chores and got down to the more serious pressing matter of pleasuring each other. She flung out an arm to grab a condom out of the nightstand. A few days ago, she’d optimistically placed an open box in her drawer. Thanks to Shep’s interference, this was condom numero uno.
She handed him the opened package and tried to assist him putting it on, but their hands tangled under the covers, slowing down the process. Finally he had it on, and gently pushed his way in. Her body opened and blossomed for him.
As soon as he was fully buried in her, he used his hips to lock her in place, preventing her from moving, and started in on the kisses again.
“Chase,” she said, squirming against him.
“I’m setting the pace,” he said and kept his hips immobile.
Oh God, he was killing her. Her inner muscles tightened and begged for friction, but only her mouth was getting a workout. Finally after what seemed to be an endless amount of waiting, Chase pulled back and thrust forward. Once.
“Chase!” She might have punched him in the back. Not hard enough to bruise, but enough to send a message.
“You’re getting greedy. I like it.” He dove in for another kiss, then started thrusting in earnest.
She let her head fall back, her thighs widened and allowed her body to exist, to feel the pleasure he was delivering. He did something amazing with his hips that changed the angle of their bodies, causing her clit to pound against his tight stomach with each thrust.
It took a mere minute before she went from simple pleasure to life-altering, blinding need. Now she summoned the energy to raise and lower her hips in time with Chase’s thrusts and gasped in bliss.
It seemed like this time was even better than the last. Each time he touched her intimately, their connection grew in synchronicity with the pleasure. If the ratio kept up, she’d be dead by the end of the week. She was dying now.
“Chase,” she moaned. “Please.” That was all she could manage. Words failed her as he kept up the intense pace. He was making love to her relentlessly. No, he was fucking her. It was the only way to explain it. She’d asked to be on the bottom and now she got exactly what she’d asked for.
As if she’d thought it possible, he picked up the pace, hooking an arm under her thigh and stretching it back toward her torso. The position brought their bodies even tighter together.
“I’m close, Jones,” he grunted in her ear. “Are you? Tell me you’re close.”
“I am,” she panted. “So close.”
“Let go. I’ve got you.”
Taking a breath, she leapt and flew. Chase quickly followed. It took long minutes and several drugging kisses before they safely landed back in reality. They lay side by side, letting their pulses slow down to normal, but Chase wrapped a hand around hers, keeping them connected.
“Can I sleep here tonight?”
“May you.” Her eyes were closing. Sleep called her siren’s song.
He chuckled. “I’m not Luca, but I’ll try it anyway. May I spend the night?”
She forced an eye open. “I’m not sure… Luca’s been asking about you… I don’t want to confuse him.”
“I understand, but I want to stay to send a message.” His voice lowered and hardened. “They can try to separate us, but we won’t lie down quietly and let them.”
Oh. In that case. “Yes, stay the night, but you have to be out of my bed before Luca wakes up. He’ll think it’s like we’re back at the hotel if he thinks you slept on the couch.”
*
“Chase!”
Luca clambered over him, missing his nuts by an inch. Fuck, he hadn’t woken up in time. Who could blame him? Samara wiped him out. He only hoped she didn’t kill him for screwing up.
He also made a mental note to wear a cup when having a sleepover where children might enter the room. A quick feel under the covers reminded him, that yep, he was naked and so was Samara. Shit. He had no idea how to handle the awkward questions bound to fly from a four-year-old, and he knew he’d incur Samara’s wrath for letting her son witness this. “Morning, buddy. Whoa, don’t climb under there.” He yanked Luca out before he could climb under the covers with them. “I’ll make a spot for you right here.” He patted the top of the comforter, creating a little nest for Luca.
“Did you have another nightmare?” Luca asked.
“Uh—”
“Luca.” Thank God, Samara was awake. “Chase came over last night, because he had another nightmare.” Her tone to Luca was loving, and her answer seemed to s
atisfy him, but she was giving Chase the death stare. Her hand groped the floor for Chase’s shorts. Once they were in hand, she passed them over Luca’s head, behind his back to Chase.
Chase wriggled into them under the covers, grateful to her. When he was sufficiently covered, he got up to rescue Samara. “How about a cartoon, buddy?” He didn’t wait for Samara’s permission and snapped the remote, stopping at the first animated show he found.
Then he made an educated guess and found her pajamas in the top drawer. Holding a t-shirt and boxers low on his side, he discreetly passed the clothes to Samara, who took them gratefully.
“Do you have to work today, Chase?” Luca asked, looking up from the cartoon, obviously having taken in stride that a strange man had spent the night with his mommy. Not that strange, however. Maybe Luca was starting to see him as a father figure, and he was okay with that.
“Yeah, Luca. I do have to work.” He even sounded like a father. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Seven o’clock. Still too early to make his point. He wanted as many people as possible to see him marching out of Samara’s room in the morning. Without his shirt, so it was clear he’d spent the night. Eight o’clock should do it.
He snuggled back against the pillows, draping an arm across Luca and his hand on Samara’s shoulder. She looked at it nervously. “I have to go shower and get ready for work.”
“It’s Saturday. Take time off.”
“I’d love to, but I was on the phone for half the afternoon yesterday with my mother’s caregivers. I need to do some catching up.”
“Five minutes,” he cajoled.
She sat back. “Fine. Five minutes.”
He massaged her shoulder gently, paying more attention to the cozy dynamic of the room than whatever Luca watched on the screen. After a minute, Samara picked up a novel from her nightstand and paged through to her last stopping point. He let her read for a while.
“This is nice. I like it,” he observed a little later.
She smiled at him over her book.
“Ever think of having more?” His chin jerked toward Luca.
“Sometimes. Lately, more than ever. I’d have to get on it. I’m nearing forty.”