I nodded, his stubble scratching my temple. "You're right. I'm sorry, I'm just—"
"Let it go for now."
I lifted up on an elbow. "So distract me."
Our lips met, a hesitant touch at first, almost as tender as if it were our first kiss. Slow, and delicate. Explorative. It wasn't a kiss meant to go anywhere, at first. It was just meant to be a kiss, the expression of affection. His kiss told me what he felt about me. His lips showed me in a visceral way that he thought I was valuable, and beautiful.
The feeling of being desired, the knowledge that a man as hot as Chase thought I was beautiful...that was something I couldn't ever get enough of. I still couldn't turn off my brain, even kissing Chase like this. He had unlocked something inside me, that night in his bedroom in Detroit. He'd unleashed something powerful and insatiable. He'd made me understand my own worth as a sexual woman. There was a phrase I'd heard a million times before but never really truly grasped until this moment in Chase's New York apartment:
He'd shown me my inner goddess.
I did feel, in that moment, with his arms slipping around me, his body sliding against mine, his fingers exploring my body and starting the slow unwrapping of my clothes, that I was a goddess. I had power. My body, my desires, my needs...I could affect a man, hold sway over him, manipulate him or lift him up or draw his pleasure out, multiply it, deepen it. I could, for the minutes or hours I was with a man in bed, be all of his universe, the only thing that mattered in his existence, in those moments. It's not about experience or lack thereof, or what you've learned or with whom. That power comes from within a woman, and it must be understood on a blood- and bone- and soul-deep level.
Time had vanished and reappeared, and I was naked with him, limbs tangling in a writhing twist of flesh and sweat and heat. I had no memory of removing clothes, of anything but his lips and his hands and his body against mine, and it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Only him, only me, only us together.
There were no games, no kinks, no blindfolds or positions or bindings, just bodies mingling and merging. Lips collided and tongues mated, hands and legs and arms wrapped and touched and twined. I felt him move into me, fill me, glide with serpentine grace to merge our bodies in a manner more intimate than ever before. Walls and defenses and worries melted away, futures and pasts and choices had no meaning.
Climax happened gradually, together. We mounted the heights of pleasure together in a timeless dance of flesh, moving and breathing until we were left motionless and breathless together.
There was something massively important in that experience together. I couldn't look at it too carefully, not yet. I just let it permeate my being, sweep my thoughts away. His breathing and mine matched, slowed, deepened, merged until there was nothing but breath, nothing but contact of cooling flesh and drowsing mind.
We slept then, and dreamed no dreams but each other.
* * *
For the first time since arriving in New York, I found myself alone for several hours. Chase's band had to rehearse their set for that night's show, and since I was going to see it later anyway, Chase suggested I "do some shopping or whatever."
I decided to do the tourist thing. I'd been to New York a few times before, but I'd never really just explored, I'd always been with friends or family with a set itinerary. This time, I went to the Statue of Liberty, explored the area around Times Square on foot, ate at a hole-in-the-wall pizzeria, took the subway in a circle around the boroughs, just wasting time and seeing the every-day-life parts of the city.
I made it back to Chase's apartment with enough time to take a nap, shower, and change. Well, that was the idea, at least. I got the nap in, exhausted from a long day on foot, but the shower didn't exactly happen as planned.
Chase came back from rehearsal, amped up and adrenalized. The hot, leisurely shower I'd anticipated turned into Chase pinning me under the stream of water, one of my legs around his hip as he drove up into me. There was no romance or technique to it, this time. Chase often spent an inordinate amount of time giving me pleasure before he let himself go; this time, the focus was on him, and I liked it that way, in that moment. I tangled my arms around his neck and held tight as he drilled into me, grunting, plunging. He was primal, raw power. He came with a shudder and a growl of teeth in my shoulder.
We finished cleaning up and toweled off, and by that time, Chase was ready again. He didn't make any overt moves to take me again, but I could tell he wanted it.
I waited until he had gotten his boxers on before I made my move. He was pulling his shirt over his head and momentarily blind. I knelt in front of him, jerked his boxers around his knees, and wrapped my lips around his head, letting my teeth lightly graze him, enough to shock. He gasped and flinched.
"God...what are you doing?" Chase tugged the shirt and looked down at me as I stroked his base. "We just went...and I have to be at the club in a few minutes..."
I licked him from root to tip before answering. "If you don't have time, then I guess..." I backed away slowly, giving him time to consider.
"Well, we might have a few minutes," he said.
"I thought so. I mean, I wouldn't want you to perform...frustrated." I used both hands then, pumping him slowly, just the very tip in my mouth, sucking gently.
Chase tried to answer, but could only gasp as I slid him deeper into my throat, moving my hands down his length as I did so. His fingers tangled in my damp hair and he fluttered his hips, restraining himself from thrusting. I went slow for a moment, stroking, sucking, and massaging, until he was limp-kneed and gasping. He was slick and hard in my hands, veins throbbing and sac taut, ready to burst. I moved a fist on him, quickly now, a finger massaging the muscles of his taint, lips locked around his engorged head. He threw his head back, groaning, tightened his fingers in my hair, and then he couldn't help his thrusting hips. I took him deep, not quite gagging as he brushed the back of my throat. Harder, faster, until he was dipping at the knees and rocking his hips to the rhythm of my bobbing.
"God, goddamn...I'm coming..."
I hadn't needed the warning. I could feel him tense, feel his balls contract and release in my palm. He came hard, shooting a jet of hot, thick, salty come down my throat, and then again, and a third time. I kept moving, kept sucking, until he was curled down over his belly and rumbling, jerking. He lifted me up to my feet and held me in a hug, breathing hard.
"Wow, what was that for?" Chase asked.
I shrugged. "I wanted to. I like making you feel good, especially before your show. If you guys kill it like you did the other day, I might even do it again."
Chase chuckled. "Well then, we'll have to kill it, won't we?"
* * *
They opened for one of New York's biggest up-and-coming local bands, and they killed it. They started their set with one of their hardest numbers, a thrash piece that had the crowd moshing within minutes. That set the pace for the rest of the show, each song harder than the last, and the crowd ate it up. Chase was in rare form, climbing up on a stack of speakers for an entire number, getting the crowd participating in chant-back choruses, jumping off the stage and working through the crowd, even singing from on top of the bar at one point.
By the time their set was over, the crowd was in a frenzy, and actually demanding an encore. After approving it with the stage manager, Chase and the band went back out and did a cover of the Ramones' "Blitzkrieg Bop".
I had watched from the bar, wanting to experience the show from a different angle. When they finished their set, I made my to the backstage entrance. Chase had introduced me to the stage staff before the show. I saw the other guys from the band near the door to the alley, and I made my way to them.
"Hey, Anna!" Gage, the bassist, greeted me with an effusive hug.
"Great show, guys!" I said.
I congratulated all of them, then looked around for Chase, but didn't see him.
"Where's Chase?" I asked.
Gage shifted from one foot to the other, not
meeting my eyes, glancing at the back door to the alley and then away. "He's...in the bathroom."
My stomach dropped. I suddenly knew what I'd find if I opened the alley door, but I didn't want to believe it.
I'd spent the show amazed at Chase's talent, wondering again what my hold-up was with him. I'd come backstage with the intent of telling him I was planning to stay in New York for a while longer, maybe even having the relationship discussion tomorrow.
"The bathroom?" I narrowed my eyes at Gage, fist clenched. "Don't bullshit me, Gage. Where is he?"
Gage shifted again, biting at his lip ring. "Just give him a minute, Anna."
I shoved Gage out of the way, and wrenched the door open. The metal knob was cold in my fist, squeaking as I turned it. The door was heavy, solid and rusted. I put my shoulder to it and pushed. It burst free, sending me stumbling into the alley.
I heard Chase's voice. "Wait, girls, not here, not now, just wait...I don't want Anna to find me—"
My heart clenched and my eyes burned. Chase was backed up against the alley wall, the same two girls from the bathroom at the last show pawing at him. One of them was kneeling in front of him, stopped in the act of opening his pants. The other had his hand in hers against her breast, which was bared, her camisole pulled down.
"Too late," I said, barely above a whisper.
"Anna, wait, please! It's not like you think!" Chase pushed the girls away and stumbled toward me.
I shook my head, spun on my heel and stomped out of the alley toward the main street. My eyes burned and blurred, and my chest seemed to be clutched in a vise. I heard Chase behind me, calling my name, begging me to wait, trying to explain.
I saw a cab trundle past, lit up. I ran toward it, whistling with two fingers. The cab stopped and let me in. I managed get "airport" out before shattering into sobs. I heard a palm slap the window, saw Chase through tear-blurred eyes, running after the cab, panic on his face.
"Want me to stop for him, lady?" The cabbie asked.
"No. Keep going."
"None of my business, but he looks awful shook up. Sure you don't wanna give him a chance?" I saw the cabbie's pale brown eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror.
"Just fucking drive, goddamn it."
The cabbie shrugged and kept silent the rest of the way to the airport. I didn't have my suitcase, but there was nothing vital in it anyway. He could keep it. I had my purse, my phone, my charger, and my ticket. My phone buzzed and rang nonstop, text after text, voicemail after voicemail. Eventually I turned it off and tried not to have a panic attack.
By some miracle, I made the next flight home.
I cried all the way back to Detroit, soft, silent tears dripping down my chin.
Available now, from ORLY Press:
Jasinda Wilder
The Preacher's Son: #1 Unbound
The Preacher's Son: #2 Unleashed
Biker Billionaire #1 A Wild Ride
Biker Billionaire #2 The Mile High Club
Biker Billionaire #3
Big Girls Do It Better (#1)
Big Girls Do It Wetter (#2)
Big Girls Do It Wilder (#3)
Delilah's Diary, A Sexy Journey
Visit Jasinda Wilder's page on Amazon for all her current titles.
Mimi Strong
Borrowed Billionaire 1 The Walk-In
Borrowed Billionaire 2 Lexie Goes Shopping
Borrowed Billionaire 3 Return to Mr. Thorne
Borrowed Billionaire 4 & 5 coming soon.
The Ice Cream Shop Boy (Erotic Romance)
Her Teddy Bear (Erotic Romance)
Her Teddy Bear #2 (Erotic Romance)
Why Not Tonight? Night #1
Visit Mimi Strong's page on Amazon for all her current titles.
Gordie MaGuire
Two Hot People Had Sex and They Totally Liked It
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Table of Contents
Big Girls Do It Wilder
Big Girls Do It Wilder Page 5