by Aria Scott
Tears started flowing down my cheeks. I turned and walked quicker. I wasn’t going to wait, and I wasn’t going to stop. I just wanted to go home. And I missed Jax and Molly.
A sliver of a moon hung above me, providing very little light. Even so, I kept marching along, tears flowing down my cheeks. Stumbling over a few rocks, I cursed life itself and, after about five minutes of walking down that cold, dark driveway, I made it to the main road.
Behind me somewhere, I heard a car start.
I strode down the road like a power walker. This one was paved, so I didn’t have to worry about stumbling so much. I’d gotten maybe a half-mile down the road when Chase pulled up next to me in his old Mustang.
“You gonna walk all the way home?” he asked, as he kept the car even with me.
“Yes,” I snarled.
“That’s a long walk, and at night, to boot,” he observed mildly.
“I don’t care.”
“C’mon, darlin’. Don’t be so damned stubborn. Get in.”
My steps slowed. I had to admit, he had a point. It was dark, and my house was at least a couple of miles away. “Fine,” I finally said, and he instantly stopped the car.
Frowning and still furious, I opened the car door and hopped in.
Chase said nothing further. He simply put the car in gear, and we continued on down the road.
Chapter 17
Chase
Throughout the drive toward Aubrey’s house I kept my mouth shut. I had a feeling that she was sitting there on the edge of sobbing, and there were few things in this world that were harder to deal with than a woman’s tears. Instead, I considered the wisdom of telling her about the canine café I was building for her. I had intended it to be a wedding gift, but common sense told me I could ease a lot of her hurt right now by clueing her in.
And so, once we made it into town, I hung a right toward the canine café, rather than go left, toward the section of town in which she used to live.
“Where are we going?” she asked instantly.
“I have something to show you.”
She gave me a long look, and I could see the wheels had started spinning in her head. Congratulating myself on having distracted her enough to keep her from crying, I drove toward the café, then pulled up next to the curb once we reached it.
She made a little gesture with her hands. “So? Why are we here?”
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “See that building?” I nodded toward the old storefront we were idling next to. Inside, scaffolding and other construction equipment made it clear the building was being worked on.
“What about it?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to mention this until after we were married, but...it’s your wedding gift.”
“My wedding gift?” The wide eyes she turned on me would have given the moon a run for its money.
My smile widened. “That’s right. It’s your new adoption café. A canine café, to be exact.”
“Canine café? Like the one we saw in Miami for cats?” Her voice sounded small. I noticed her gripping the car console between us.
“Exactly. The Canine Café isn’t quite a shelter, but the store’s on enough land to allow you to keep at least twelve dogs.” I touched her hand, then held it when she didn’t draw hers away. “I checked into the zoning ordinances. It turns out that you can have three dogs on lots less than a quarter of an acre, and then for every two dogs, you need another acre. Since that big parking lot next to the store is actually part of the same property, and there’s a big tract of land stretching back behind the store, we have about nine acres total to work with.”
Her voice warbled. “Are you saying...that you did this for me?”
I held her hand tighter, then pulled her in toward me, across the console, and kissed the top of her head. “I did, and there isn’t a damned thing the town council can do to stop us. I already have the permits.”
I pushed back a little, and looked down at her. Tears streaked down her face. I felt her trembling, as if she was trying to hold back a storm of emotion. Obeying an impulse, I leaned down and kissed the tip of her little nose. “As you can see, the construction is underway. When it’s done, this will be your building, but Dakota already said she’d help you with the café part, if you want her to.
“Oh, Chase,” she breathed, and her tears began to flow harder.
I kissed each one of her tears away. Filled with a feeling of satisfaction, I tilted her head back and lightly kissed her lips. But when she tried to deepen the kiss, I pulled away. I didn’t want just a kiss, at this point. I wanted it all, and I wanted it in a bed, not in the front seat of a car.
“Let’s get you to your place, so we can check it out, and make sure it’s okay.”
She lifted her hands and twined them around my neck. For a second, I thought she was going to demand I kiss her—a move I wouldn’t have been able to resist. All she did, though, was lean forward to kiss my cheek. My cock stiffening, I started the car and accidentally left some rubber on the road, in my hurry to get going.
We drove through town and then turned into the drive to her house, a little Cape Cod with a neatly-kept front yard and white picket fence. I parked the car and we both got out. She fished some keys out of her purse, walked up to the front door, and opened it.
Seconds later, we were inside. The place smelled a little musty, but not too bad, and she explained that Lisa stopped by each week to air the house out. Together, we checked all the rooms downstairs to make sure nothing had happened while she’d been in Miami, and then we paused by the kitchen.
She locked gazes with me then, and I could see a sudden shyness in her eyes. “It’s good to be home,” she admitted.
“Why don’t we stay for a little while, then, and unwind from the party?” I suggested, my tone innocent enough.
“Sure.” Her gaze slid to the sofa behind me, and she made an awkward gesture that told me she didn’t entertain men in her living room very often. “Have a seat. I have some wine in the kitchen. Are you up for a glass of wine?”
“Definitely.”
“Okay, give me a few minutes. I also want to get changed into something more comfortable.”
“Sounds good,” I quickly agreed, covering my surprise. She was getting changed into something more comfortable? Suddenly I had a sense that maybe I was the one being seduced. I noticed a box of matches on the coffee table and a number of candles scattered around the room. Smiling, I struck a match and lit each candle. They flickered gently, washing the room in a golden haze.
I sat down on her sofa, noticing how girly it looked with its poofy rose-colored pillows. The quilt she’d thrown over the back of it added a homey feel. This was a chick’s house, no doubt about it. I wished I had an armful of those white flowers with the yellow centers to hand to her, but then grinned at the idea. I’d never been a romantic like this before. Maybe I’d just needed the right woman to bring it out in me.
She walked in then, a bottle of red wine in one hand and two glasses in the other. My heart beat harder as I looked her over, taking in her glistening long red hair and her black velvet robe, with its partially-open neckline that showed off the rounded tops of her breasts. This wasn’t like any other bathrobe I’d ever seen her wear, and I couldn’t stop staring.
“Victoria’s Secret,” she said self-consciously.
I forced myself to act normal, even though my cock had lengthened and stiffened until I was rock-hard. I didn’t want to come on too strong, too fast. “Nice. You look good in it. Very comfortable.”
We sat down on the sofa, with about a foot separating us. Not for long, I silently promised, as I took a glass of wine from her and sipped. At the same time, I remembered Dr. Goswami’s lessons, and I understood that the longer I drew our foreplay out, and the harder I made her work for it, the more explosive her orgasm would be.
And tonight, I was determined that she’d have one hell of an orgasm.
“You look good, too, Chase.”
I smiled. “It’s all for you, darlin’.”
Her eyelids fluttered lower, hiding the expression in her eyes from me. Suddenly, she reached up, unbuttoned one of the buttons on my shirt and touched a bruise on my collarbone. “When did you get this?”
“During practice last week,” I replied, my skin tingling where she’d touched me. “It goes right down to my ribs.”
“Let me see,” she said.
Slowly, I unbuttoned the rest of my shirt, and pulled it open to show her the big purple bruise that snaked down my left side. She assessed it with a concerned expression, then stroked it lightly, tracing its outline. It was shaded a slightly darker purple above each rib.
The feeling of her touching me, of her stroking my skin, was so amazing that I almost said ‘fuck the foreplay’ and took her right there. I curled my palm around the top of her hand and pulled it away, my thumb brushing the inside of her palm. Then, moving slowly, I threaded my fingers through hers and squeezed gently.
She made a little sound, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and pulled her hand free.
“Sorry, darlin’. Did I hurt you?” I murmured.
“No, but you’re very strong. Lots of muscles.” Her gaze flickered across my chest.
I tried on a grin. “I know my strength. I’ll show you if you want.”
She swatted at me with mock annoyance at my joke, then pulled back a little and picked up a glass of wine, her robe slipping lower until it bared her shoulders. She didn’t bother to pull it back up. Instead, she slowly sipped wine and checked me out, her gaze roaming lower, to the big bulge in my pants. I returned the favor by lazily looking down at her face, at her delicate shoulders, and the luscious curves of her swelling breasts.
“You’re damned hot,” I finally said, aware that my voice had become a deep, husky rasp. “So different from every other woman I’ve known.”
“And you knew a lot of women.”
“Thousands,” I replied with another little grin. “None of them like you,” I quickly added, as she punched me playfully on the arm.
“Pour us some more wine,” she demanded.
I leaned forward to grab the bottle, and picked up her glass with the other hand. I started to top off her glass, but some of the wine sloshed over the rim. A stain settled into my pants, right near my throbbing cock.
“Whoops.” I handed her the glass.
She took it, placed it on a side table, then got a towel from the kitchen. She dabbed at my pants, her touch making the hard lump beneath the fabric even harder, and then looked up at me. For a second, we just stared at each other, and then she began to stroke my cock right through my pants. The sensation was electrifying and, when she stopped, I felt like I might jump off the sofa.
Extend the foreplay, I told myself sternly, and somehow managed to stay seated. I topped off my own glass—successfully this time—and then we toasted each other. I didn’t have much interest in the wine, but I had to admit, it tasted good going down.
“A cabernet?” I asked.
“Napa,” she confirmed.
In just a few swallows, I drank my entire glass of wine, then wrapped my fingers around her glass and placed it on the coffee table. Recalling what Goswami had said about the powerful sense of touch, I gently grasped her shoulders, her skin warm and silky beneath my fingers, and pushed her back against the sofa. I leaned close and kissed her neck, her ear, her collarbone—everything but her lips.
Foreplay, foreplay. And, the act of denial will only make her want it more.
She arched her back and lifted her breasts toward me, making them strain against her velvet robe. But instead of taking what she’d offered, I forced a chuckle and picked up her glass of wine. I lifted it to her lips, and she obediently took a sip.
“Want more?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, a pleading note in her voice.
I smiled, aware that she wasn’t talking about wine. Even so, I held the glass up to her lips again, and dutifully she took a sip. My gaze never left hers, I sipped too, then set the glass back on the coffee table. “Good?” I asked.
“Wonderful,” she breathed, and stretched against the sofa like a cat.
I moved closer to her and settled my hands on the sofa, above her shoulders, my body hovering over hers. Then, slowly, I leaned down to cover her mouth with my own.
My cock throbbed relentlessly as her lips parted beneath mine and I probed her mouth, her tongue warm and firm, exploring, tangling with mine. Then, I slid a hand past her robe, probing and stroking her skin, my fingers lingering over her hard nipples before I grasped her breast and squeezed gently, her nipple swelling up against my palm. She groaned and ran two fingers down the side of my face, then cupped it with her hand
“You’re so sweet,” I breathed against her ear, and she shivered against me. I shifted my fingers to her other breast and teased its nipple, stroking and pinching until I heard her moan with pleasure, one that I quickly smothered with my lips. The blood in my veins felt like it was on fire, and my cock was demanding release. I needed her, I needed to be inside her, I needed her to wrap that soft palm of hers around my cock and stroke me until I exploded.
I broke our kiss and climbed to my feet. I took her hand and pulled her up from the sofa, too. Once on her feet, she wobbled a little. Without saying a word, I led her into her bedroom and stopped near her little twin bed. I turned on a little candlestick lamp sitting on her nightstand. Then, I moved around behind her, untied the sash around her waist, and pushed the robe downward, letting it drop from her body, the soft folds slipping down past her legs and becoming a puddle of black velvet at her feet.
Smiling, I stood back a moment and gazed at her with lazy eyes. She had a black thong on and nothing else, her pink nipples stiff peaks, the thong doing little to cover the curls between her thighs.
My blood still felt hot, but now it felt thick, too, like it was weighing me down. It made me want to lay her down and tangle myself up with her. Rather, I continued to gaze, savoring the sight of her, and she let me stare, the look in her eyes telling me that she’d completely surrendered.
I savored the moment. I didn’t move, didn’t try to lay her down on the bed, didn’t take off my shirt or pants. Instead, I continued to smile, my attention resting on her breasts, then roving past her pussy to her legs, then up to her lips. The longer I watched, the more the need for her tightened in my gut, until I finally couldn’t stand it anymore. I moved behind her and slipped my arms around her to caress those sweet, soft breasts and her stiff little nipples.
She turned toward me and arched her back to rub the back of her neck, lifting her hair as she did so. Her breasts thrust forward toward me, she let the heavy red waves spill back through her fingers. Appreciating the beautiful sight she made, I picked up a makeup brush I’d noticed on her night stand and began to stroke her breasts with it, making her quiver and moan and beg me for more.
I pressed a kiss on her lips, then dragged the brush up around her collarbone, then down across her nipples, painting little circles around them before whipping it lower, between her legs and across her clit, which was barely hidden beneath her thong.
She cried out and swayed against me. I held her steady, and then stood back and studied her like an artist. The makeup brush had left a trail of very fine white glitter across her body. She looked like she’d been dusted by moonlight. When I finally leaned forward to lick one of her nipples, her knees buckled. I held her as she fell back against the bed. She moaned and writhed against the sheets, and I swallowed. I wanted her badly, but I kept a lazy smile on my face.
Dr. Goswami would be proud of me.
Pretending to be relaxed, I walked over to the windows and pulled the drapes open, revealing a moon full enough to spill silvery light through the glass panes. It painted everything in the room with a pale glow. I turned the candlestick lamp off, stripped down, then stood there for a moment, letting her look as she’d done for me. I saw her gaze drop lower, to my cock,
and it jumped with excitement.
She swallowed at the sight of it. It seemed to be pointing at her...stretching and straining in her direction. I walked to her side and paused, waiting to see if she’d grab it, and take it to her lips, where she could taste it. But when she lifted her hand to wrap her palm around it and draw me close, I moved slightly away.
“Lay down,” I ordered huskily.
She quickly stretched out on the mattress, her moves sinuous and liquid, reminding me again of a cat’s. I climbed over her, then separated her thighs with one knee, making them wide enough so that I could settle down between them. I pulled her thong to one side, grabbed my cock and began to brush the head up and down against her pussy lips, making her moan with pleasure. Encouraged, I pushed into her slightly—just the tip. She caught her breath and held it, her body quivering, as she waited for me to slide into her fully.
Instead, I pulled out, and teased her with my cock some more, using the tip to encircle her clit and stroke it. She dug her fingers into the muscles of my back and thrust her pussy against me, and softly begged me to take her fully, to thrust into her as deep as I could and stay there forever.
Hiding a little smile, I slid my cock down and nestled it against her once more, and then entered her slowly, but only as far as the head of my cock. I waited for a minute, then thrust a few times, then paused.
She clung to me, and whispered for me to finish it. But for the moment, I just wanted to look into her eyes and see the desperate desire in them. Just as a few tears began to form in her eyes, I drove into her, all the way in, my balls pressed up against her and my cock pushing against her womb. She cried out, then held me tightly as plunged into her with a few long, deep strokes that had me on the edge of exploding. Somehow, I managed to pull back and again just thrust in an inch or so, surprising myself with the way I’d been able to control my own desires.
Moments later, though, I was again thrusting deep. I kept stringing her along on the edge of orgasm, but after several moments, her pussy tightened almost painfully around my cock. I thrust hard, once, then twice, and sent her hurtling into an orgasm. Still rigid and as strong as steel, I rode her orgasm, my cock stroking her inside and drawing her pleasure out, until finally she stopped trembling and was able to relax against the mattress.