by Kacey Shea
I grin. “No, not that. I just can’t continue with this.” I motion between us. “Knowing there’s that.” I point down the offending hallway. “Stupid, right?”
Chase laughs his booming laugh. “No, Callie. Quirky maybe, but not stupid. Where’s your broom? Let me clean it up.”
“You don’t have to. I can get it.”
“Callie.” He steps forward, caging me in again, but this time he’s gone all alpha on me. His presence looms, strong, controlling, and my body gives a shiver in response. God, I want him. Maybe the floor can wait.
“Broom?” he says again and I point toward the hall closet. He dips his head to kiss my lips, snaking his tongue inside my mouth to swipe once before he pulls back. “And Callie?”
“Hmmm…” I grip his shirt to pull him back to me. His low throaty chuckle excites every nerve ending of my body.
“Go to your room. Put on one of those bra and panty sets I saw on moving day, and get on the bed. Hands and knees. And wait for me. I’ll clean this up.” Oh fuck. That’s hot. I nod but don’t move and his expression darkens. “Now.” He gives my ass a smack and turns to go clean up the glass.
I race to my bedroom closet and strip as fast as I can, with no finesse because I don’t want him to catch me with my skirt halfway down my legs. Hell, I’d likely trip and fall, something that’d totally ruin the mood. I slide off the strappy sandals, and because I anticipated getting physical the requested lingerie is already on my body. I give myself a onceover in the mirror and try to tame my curls but they have a mind of their own. Maybe he’ll think they’re sexy flying every which way.
I don’t linger too long because something tells me I don’t want to find out what happens if I’m not on all fours when Chase comes into my room. I flip my light off and turn on the small bedside lamp. Mood lighting, that’s good enough. I situate myself so I’m facing the door, because I want to see his face. But maybe that’s wrong. If he wants me like this he’s probably into doggy style. Shit. I turn around and arch my back because I think that’s sexier.
“Fuck, Callie, you look so good.” I’m glad I went with facing the wall when he walks in and a smile fills my face at his appreciation. I wiggle my ass but don’t look back, not just yet anyway. “Damn,” he swears again, and I hear his clothes hit the ground. I wait. Patient as I can because it’s taking everything I can to not turn and watch Chase undress. I’ve fantasized about that happy trail from his perfectly formed belly button that leads to his manhood. I really want to see that.
“Callie.” I squeal because I don’t expect his tongue to trace the lace of my thong to where it disappears between my legs and I’m already wet for him. “Stay like this.” The weight on the bed shifts and he pulls the lace off my hips and down my legs but leaves it at my knees, binding my legs together. His fingers rub my ass before spreading me wide and his glorious mouth moves to where I want him.
“Fuck…” I moan as he licks and sucks my folds, using his tongue and his entire face to eat me out. God, he’s good at this. I’ve never done this in this position before. I feel completely exposed and at his will. I love it. My breaths come quicker. My heart drums inside my chest. It thumps so fast, as though I’ve been running, and my skin is warm all over.
He adds his fingers, working them in tiny circles over my clit and his tongue moves higher to the spot I’ve never had a man go. It should feel wrong, I know it should, but it makes me even hotter and I moan into the sheets, fisting my hands to brace myself. His fingers dip inside my pussy, first one, then two . . . and then three. Oh shit. “I’m so close.”
“I know, Callie. Not yet.” His hands and mouth withdraw all at once and his weight leaves the bed. “Take everything off. I want inside you,” he orders. I turn onto my back so I can pull my thong off my legs and Chase crouches by his shorts to pull a condom from the pocket. He stands and my lips go dry. He’s still wearing his boxer briefs, tight white little things, but there’s nothing tighty whitey about them. On him they look obscene. His tan skin and ink stand out in contrast to the fabric. I lick my lips when my eyes focus back at his visible bulge. I need him. Now.
Reaching behind my back I unclasp my bra and allow it to fall from my breasts. I watch as his gaze goes straight to them. His fingers grip the elastic of his underwear and he yanks them down and walks to the edge of my bed, all strong and sexy man while palming his erection. My nerves bubble to the surface and the anticipation of this moment crashes over me.
“Callie.” Chase moves onto the bed, one knee between my legs, then the other as he rips open the foil packet. “This is gonna be hard and fast, baby. But give me a few minutes and I’ll have li’l Chase up and ready for round two, because you—you are so fucking sexy right now and I know I’m not gonna last long. But I promise you, I’m making love to you all night long.”
His words and the control they possess—the way he calls me baby, the fact he said make love, all of it—calms my nerves and my face fills with a smile. “Yes, please. I want you, Chase.”
“I want you too, baby.” He covers my body with his own, braces his weight on his forearms just above my shoulders. He’s over me, hard and strong, and I feel so small and feminine beneath him. My fingers trace the ridges of his muscular abdominals, all the way down to where he’s hard just for me. I stroke him over the latex and he sucks in a breath. I love that. That as big and strong as he is, I still have the ability to control his reaction. I line him up at my entrance, and glance from under my lashes to find him watching my face with those melted chocolate eyes. Fuck. I love chocolate.
We don’t say a word, but our gazes remain locked as he moves, thrusting hard and deep. I gasp. He groans. Our gazes never waiver. My body adjusts to him and he continues as promised, hard and fast, and it feels so good. I’m on the edge. So close, and I try to meet him there. I want to come with him. The connection I feel, it’s intense. It’s all over me, inside me, as his breath mingles with my own. Moans fill the quiet space above our panting. He’s everything. My everything, and all consuming.
“Callie!” Chase shouts and thrusts once more before he pulls out and shudders his release. He drops his forehead to mine, but keeps his body held over me as not to crush me with his weight. He kisses my lips, softly, sweetly, and I wish I was experiencing my own orgasm right now. Not to be selfish. The sex was great. Phenomenal, even. But he’s catching his breath and I know how men are: once they come, they’re done.
His lips leave mine and he moves off my bed, removing the condom to tie it off. “Trash?” he says and I point to the waste basket in the far corner. He tosses it inside and waggles his brows at me when it’s a perfect shot.
“Now. I have some unfinished business to take care of.” His deep, low rumble sends shivers across my naked skin. He grabs my ankles and trails kisses down the insides of my legs, alternating sides, until he’s back at my core. “I love this pussy. You taste so good, Callie.”
Within minutes the man’s made good on his promise and this time we make love, feeling each other, learning our bodies, discovering exactly what spots bring more pleasure. Dirty talk, sweet words, pants and moans—we share it all. I drift to sleep totally spent, fully satisfied, and wrapped in the arms of the man who has obliterated my idea of good sex. And probably ruined me for life. I don’t see how any other man could ever compare.
I hate PSIP. Post sexual intercourse panic.
That moment of extreme anxiety I always seem to experience after hooking up with a new partner. Sometimes it’s immediately after the orgasm, during the quiet night when he’s snoozed out in post sex bliss that my mind starts to race. But in the case of the talented orgasm inducing Chase, it’s the morning after.
Wrapped together in sheets and interwoven limbs, I wonder . . . was this a mistake? Does he want me the same way I want him? Do we know each other well enough? I mean, I’ve never even met his parents and that shows so much about a person. Maybe I should have met his dad first.
“Callie, what’s going on i
n that brain of yours?” His rough morning voice is sexier than it should be. I’ve been pretending to be asleep for the past fifteen minutes, thinking he was actually sleeping, but it appears I was wrong.
“Mmm?” I roll in the bed so I can study his face. “When did you wake up?” I stifle a fake yawn.
“Long enough to watch you go from snoring and peaceful to tense and quiet.” He grins. “You good?”
“I’m good.” I nod and let my worries fall away for another moment in time. This, right here—Chase in my bed; my gorgeous firefighter boyfriend—I’m going to appreciate. “So, you work for the next two days?”
“Yeah. Maybe we can meet for lunch at the station Saturday if you have time.”
“I always have time for you.”
“You’re the best, Callie.”
“I try.” I shrug and go for nonchalant while inside I’m grinning like a fool. He thinks I’m the best. Good. Because he’s easily become the best man I’ve ever dated. “Wanna come over Sunday after your shift?”
He pulls out of my embrace, rolls off the bed, stands to stretch his arms overhead, and my gaze travels down the lines of his physique. He’s such a fucking stud. And the way his skin is inked . . . it almost crawls over him. I’ve never had a greater appreciation for tattoo artistry than I do now.
“I don’t know. I’ll be tired after my shift. Horrible company. I’ll probably crash back home and rest,” he finally answers after pulling on a shirt. I blink and focus on his face now that his body’s mostly covered. Distracting me from my thoughts with his nakedness. I see how it is.
“It’s okay. We can chill here. I’ll make brunch and we can watch a movie. Doesn’t have to be fancy, I just want to spend time with you.” I reluctantly pull myself from the bed, wrap the wrinkled bedsheet around my body and pad to him. I hold his gaze and bite my lower lip. His gaze narrows and I loosen the sheet a little. A little more. He swallows hard. His muscles tighten and I decipher a tiny growl.
I drop the sheet. “Ooops. It slipped.” I pout.
In one long stride and a muted roar, Chase’s body covers my naked form. He grabs my ass and backs us up so the backs of my thighs hit the bed while his mouth duels with mine. His kisses come at me like a freight train and I combust upon impact.
“Nip slip? My ass,” he murmurs against my lips and marks kisses down my neck, between my breasts and to my navel. His fingers dance across my skin and the touch leads a shiver down my spine because I know how fucking talented those digits are.
“Shouldn’t you be heading to work?” I barely get out before a moan leaves my lips. I look down and catch his wide grin and a gleam in his eyes before he drops to his knees. Without breaking eye contact his tongue travels lower and lower until it’s almost where I need him.
Chase leans back on his heels and his gaze drops to my body. He licks his lips and blows a little at the sensitive flesh that’s only inches from his mouth. “I’ve got time for this. Let’s see if I can get you off one more time before I go.”
“Only once?” I sass. His gaze snaps up. Oh shit.
“Is that a challenge? I’ll fucking make you come so hard and so many times you’ll beg me to stop.” His eyes are dark, gaze sharp, and his jaw clenches tight.
I bite my lip, this time not to tease, because the smart retort I’d normally respond with doesn’t seem appropriate. The way Chase is right now—hard, demanding, and fully alpha—it scares me a little. But mostly it turns me on. I know without him even touching me that I’m dripping wet. The scent of my arousal fills the room.
“Now lie on the bed and spread those legs for me. I’m going to eat you out and get my fill before going on shift.” His hands go around my thighs and give a little tug so I fall backwards onto the cool sheets.
“Wider,” he demands, and my breath catches in my throat. I stretch my legs to the sides as wide as they will go and curse myself for not being more flexible. I watch him. The way his hands rub up and down my inner thighs before they grip just above my knee and shove me down into the mattress. Fuck. He licks the folds of my core, dips his tongue in and then back out to suck, kiss, and assault my entire pussy like it’s his last meal.
“Oh, yes. Yes, Chase. Please. More. There. Yes.” He dips his fingers inside me with a skill and practice most men don’t possess. I don’t even try to hold back. My entire body shakes and I shout as my orgasm reaches its crescendo. “Oh, God. Stop. It’s too much.” My body quakes as he continues to pump his fingers in and out while his lips lock down on my clit. When his fingers slow I look down my body to catch his Cheshire grin.
“Told you I’d make you beg.”
“Yes! You win! I surrender!” I reach back to find a pillow and raise it over me, waving it back and forth. Chase stands and laughs.
“Is that supposed to be a white flag?”
“Well, it’s white, so yes. Though it doesn’t give much of a wave, does it?” I smile and prop the pillow behind my head. “So I’ll just lay here a pile of satisfied woman. Let yourself out?”
“Can do.”
“I’ll come by Saturday for lunch?”
“And I’ll probably text you a hundred times before then.” He leans over my body, one knee pressed into the mattress, and captures my lips in a tender kiss. I can taste myself on him and it’s so erotic.
“I can taste my pussy,” I say without thinking and his eyes darken. He stands and backs away from the bed.
“You like that, don’t you?” he asks and I nod. “Damn, girl. You are trouble with a capital T. I could stay here all day with you.” I love that I do to him what he does to me. Though he’s a stronger man, because if I had to work and he didn’t I’d be tempted to blow it off for a day in bed with him. I shake my head.
“Bye, Chase. Thanks for last night. And this morning.”
“Bye, love.” He winks and walks out the door.
Holy fuck. His footsteps trail through the hall but I don’t even hear the front door slam. I’m too preoccupied as I scramble for my phone and shoot off a group text to my girls. He loves me? He called me love! Girlfriend reinforcement needed to calm my blubbering excitement—stat!
I love girl talk.
After a long nap and lounging around in pajamas all day I finally shower, dress, and meet my girls downtown. Alicia’s cousin, Ben, opened a brewery a little over a year ago just walking distance from VCU. It’s where we all went to school, so The Chronicle became our favorite hangout.
The building housed a printing press in the early nineteen hundreds, so Ben kept the theme for the pub. He even found an old printing press and repurposed it into one of the taps behind the bar. The exposed brick and industrial décor paired with menus printed like front page news brings a fun and vintage ambiance. The servers even wear suspenders and newsboy caps; though the outfits for the women employees are far too sexy and revealing to be authentic to the era.
My favorite thing Ben did was keep the original signage out front. The Chronicle, lit in simple fluorescent lettering stands in contrast to all the other restaurants and shops lining the blocks leading to campus. I’m happy for Ben’s success and the brewery’s popularity, which is evident by the packed house tonight regardless that classes aren’t back in session for another two weeks.
“Not gonna lie, Callie, I’m kinda digging the fireman schedule. Even though you’re in that honeymoon stage of love we still get a Friday night with our girl.” Jill pops a chip into her mouth with a satisfied grin. I, on the contrary, don’t like the schedule. I wish I was spending the night with my man, but I do see her point. It’s at least forcing some balance into my life.
“Me, too!” Alicia throws back the remaining sangria in her oversized glass and licks her lips. She motions to our very attentive waiter and he rushes to get another round. “Our waiter is cute.”
“Our waiter is barely legal. Don’t go Mrs. Robinson-ing the poor kid,” Jill says.
“He’s not! I’m sure he’s at least twenty.”
I laugh. “No way
. If I saw him on the street, I’d say sixteen.”
“You two need your eyes checked!” Alicia argues.
“So, sex was amazing and he told you he loved you?” Jill leans over the high top table with a dazzling smile.
“Did he say love during sex or after? Because during doesn’t always count.” Alicia twirls her straw in her empty cup.
“He didn’t say, ‘I love you.’ It was more a farewell, ‘bye, love,’ were his exact words.”
“Ahhh!” Their collective murmurs of understanding are heard above the bustle of the busy restaurant.
“What do you mean, ah?”
“Men are idiots.” Alicia rolls her eyes just as the server comes by with refills. We thank him and he scampers off.
“They really are. Using love as a pet name is manipulative bullshit. It’s a play on a woman’s emotions without having to give the full commitment of love. It’s basically the same as me saying I love sangria. It doesn’t mean I’m gonna marry it.”
“Speak for yourself,” Alicia says, and murmurs, “I still love you, baby,” to her full beverage, earning laughter from Jill and myself.
“Yeah. I guess you’re sort of right. Only, in that moment, the way he said it, it felt like so much more.”
“Well, I don’t like it. I’m bumping him to suspect level,” Jill says.
“What’s that, again?” Alicia downs her glass. Damn, the woman can drink. I scoot my still full cup in front of her and she grins.
“It’s like probation. He hasn’t passed the friend approval process. He’s still being evaluated,” Jill explains. Chase already meets my approval. After last night and this morning, it’s difficult to not declare my love and shout it from the rooftops, but I like that my girls care so much about me. They look out and are supportive at the same time. If the situation was reversed I’d undoubtedly feel the same.
“How can we bump him to approved? Because I really like him.” I grin.
“We know you do.” Alicia pats my arm with a wide smile on her face.