LUST: A Bad Boy and Amish Girl Romance (The Brody Bunch Book 2)
Page 53
"That's so fucking good," he groans. "My god..."
His hips are starting to move and his hands have slid into my hair, so I know it's time to stop before he gets carried away.
"Fuck me, Chase," I say when my mouth is free of him. "I need you to fuck me as hard as you can, okay?"
Our eyes meet and I can tell he knows I'm serious, can read the desire from my gaze or hear it in the quiver of my voice. In a moment our positions are reversed and he's on top of me, reaching across to the side table to grab a condom.
I pull the wrapper from him and tear it open, sliding it along his hardness and pulling him forward much faster than he would have been able to do on his own. In moments I'm filled with him again, and my hands and nails are digging into his muscled back, urging him forward as fast and as hard as he can manage.
Chase responds in the way I need, thrusting into my core while my cries of ecstasy urge him forward.
"You're so fucking hot," he pants. "I love how much you want me."
I can't remember needing a fuck as badly as I do right now, and Chase's cock is more than enough to satisfy my craving. Sex with Harrison had always been okay, but never so powerful. Never as animalistic. I rarely came from Harry's cock alone, but now I'm on the verge of my second orgasm from Chase. Part of it is probably just situational. Something about the almost anonymity of this gorgeous sort-of-maybe-famous stranger with the thick and heavy dick pounding into me. I can't discount that. But there's another part of it. Chase is sensual. Powerful. Something in his eyes and his little half smile.
It probably gets him laid all the time.
"Fuck," I breathe heavily into his shoulder as he pushes so deeply into me that he hits a spot that hasn't been stimulated in months.
"So tight," he groans back. I imagine everyone seems tight around the monster he's packing. My nails dig harder into his back and he lets out an even louder noise.
"Fucking come," I whisper. "I want you to come." My own orgasm is on me as my eyes roll back into my head. Waves of pleasure rock through my body and all I want is for Chase to join me in his own hot release. I squeeze tightly around the fleshy intruder between my legs, pulling him forward with my legs around his back.
Chase responds, his tattooed back stiffening with tension even as his cock releases spasms of sexual fury inside of me.
The weight of him as he collapses down in exhaustion is a welcome shield to the emotion beginning to well up inside of me. I've let the sex and Chase and this hotel room and everything else distract me, but I can't ignore the feelings any more. It's one thing to know that my relationship with Harrison is finally over officially, after all I haven't been blind to its looming demise hovering over us for weeks, but it was another to see how callously he cast me aside on a whim. Obviously the choice to follow Chase up here was mine, despite what was agreed upon by the men at the table, but just the fact that Harry would even offer me up like that was devastating.
I bury my face against Chase's shoulder, hoping to hide the tears. He stiffens again, and then pulls me closer into a tight embrace, as if knowing exactly what I'm feeling. Maybe he felt the wetness against his skin, or the gasp in my breath as I tried to hold in a sob. In any case, he understands what I need and I'm grateful not to have to hide it anymore, so I bite back any shame I'm feeling at breaking down so completely and begin to sob. My chest heaves and I gasp, letting the tears run down my face until they meet his skin, the contours of his muscled shoulder carrying them away. In response, Chase only wraps his warm embrace around me even tighter without saying a word.
He lets me cry for a while, holding me against him and running his hand up and down my back and through my hair. It's peaceful, and feels more intimate than it should, given I just met the guy an hour ago. More intimate, even, than the sex. But it's what I need, and he seems to know it.
That cry was born of more than just tonight. Frustration over the last few weeks, months even, knowing that the end was coming. Harrison and I had a relationship like the final firework on the fourth of July. Hot flame started us off and we shot high, and the big explosion made us feel wide eyed and happy. But as soon as it started to fade, disappointment settled in. For me, at least. I kept waiting. Looking around for more explosions of passion that never came, trying desperately to replace the memory burned into my head of what was.
Tonight is me finally realizing that the show is over, and I'm not interested in sitting through the next show. I don't want another one time explosion of passion that I'll have to try to cling to for months.
Chase's hand rests on my back, no longer running up and down my skin. The sound and rhythm of his breathing tells me he's asleep. He held onto consciousness long enough to wait for me to stop sobbing before letting himself fall asleep. He might not be as much of an ass as I first thought, but he's still just a rebound. A convenient distraction from my immediate pain. In some ways it would have been easier if he was an ass.
He's still cocky, though. He still made a gamble to get me up here, and like a fool I went for it anyway.
I should leave now, but my eyes are heavy and I really have nowhere else to go. I repeatedly promised I wouldn't sleep with Chase, but actual sleep seems pretty tame compared to what we just finished doing.
But in the morning I really need to get the hell out of here.
6
The smell of coffee tickles my nose until I feel awake enough to open my eyes. As cliché as it sounds, I almost expect the previous night to have been a dream and wake to see Harrison staring at me across the bed. Instead, all I see is a pillow encased in much nicer cloth than the one at our hotel.
"I didn't know what you normally eat for breakfast, so I ordered a few things."
Pushing up onto my elbows, I spy Chase standing near the closet, already dressed in smooth black slacks and a dark purple button down shirt. The top couple buttons are undone and I see the top of his hard chest. He was still as good looking as I remembered.
"You said your boyfriend's name was Harrison, right? Does he go by Harry?"
"Just to me," I nod slowly, letting the sleep fall away from my head before I correct him again. "And it's ex-boyfriend. Why?"
"He's been texting you all morning," Chase cocks his head toward a table next to the bed where I'd set my phone down last night.
I sigh heavily, reaching for it and scrolling through the messages from Harrison. He wrote that he is worried sick about me since I didn't come back to the hotel room last night. Typical of him not to realize how I was feeling. He probably thought I just stormed away in a fit of momentary anger and would be waiting for him back at the room when he returned. I throw my phone back onto the bed and turn back to Chase who is examining himself in the mirror.
He sees me in the reflection looking at him. "You should stay here today," he turns and looks at me with a smile. "I'd love for you to be here when I get back, although it might be a while."
"Where are you going?" I haven't forgotten the resolution I made last night about leaving, but the texts from Harrison have reminded me that I have nowhere to go. Nowhere that I want to be, anyway. I really don't want to see him today. I don't want to hear any of his excuses or pleas for another chance.
"I'm playing in a tournament. It starts at noon."
I glance at the clock and am surprised that it's already well past eleven. There is a cart next to the bed with a variety of breakfast food, as promised, even though it's almost lunchtime.
"Eat something," he motions. "Get up whenever you feel like it, make yourself at home. There's a laptop in the other room you can use. Have a shower, do whatever you want." He pauses, then adds. "You don't have to stay here, but don't go back to him."
The way he says him makes it sound like a bad word. Like he's an evil monster. Harry has his faults, and I'm through with him, but Chase doesn't know him and I have to bite my tongue to keep from defending him again. It doesn't matter anyway. Besides, it's kind of sweet that Chase is trying to protect me from someone he regar
ds as bad news, even if it's based on a somewhat misguided first impression.
"Thank you," I finally say, although I'm still not sure whether I'm going to stay or not.
Chase gives me his little half grin and walks forward. His hand reaches down and cups my bare breast. I didn't even notice the covers had fallen away, exposing me. His hand is warm and he flicks my nipple with his thumb as he bends forward and kisses me. I still feel like it's bold of him, even after last night, but I kiss him back anyway. Partly as a reflex but just as much because I remember how good it feels.
"Stay," he whispers as he pulls back. He can tell I'm still unsure. "I have a break at two and I'll come back up." The way he says it makes it clear what he hopes to do on the break. To be honest, the idea is appealing to me as well.
I nod and smile, but his eyes tell me he knows I'm still not convinced. I may have broken a couple promises to myself last night, but leaving him behind as a one night stand was one I had really intended to keep.
Chase straightens, pulling his hand from my body. I instantly miss the warmth and intimacy of his touch but I push the feeling away. I barely know him, and he's already leaving for another poker game anyway. He's likely just as much of a degenerate gambler as Harrison. I have to stop getting mixed up in shit like this.
Before he leaves the room, he grabs his sunglasses from beside the bed and slips them over on.
He finally leaves with one more promise to return soon and I settle back against the pillows, picking up my phone and staring at the texts from Harrison. I spend some time formulating a reply that will explain how I feel
11:46 AM Lila: Fuck off.
It's a simple enough message, but I know with Harry I need to be more direct.
11:47 AM Lila: It's over.
He responds immediately, as if he's been sitting and waiting for me to get back to him.
11:48 AM Harrison: Lila, let's talk about this. Come back. Where r u?
11:50 AM Lila: There's nothing to talk about. It's over Harry.
He calls now but I don't pick it up. Harry hates texting and would much rather talk on the phone, but I won't give him that respite. If he wants to continue to bug me, he'll have to suffer through it. He finally gives up and goes back to text.
11:55 AM Harrison: This is silly. Please let's talk about it. What about your stuff?
11:57 AM Lila: Just leave it in the room. I don't want to see or talk to you. I'm turning off my phone.
I don't actually turn it off, but I toss it next to me on vibrate and listen to it buzz as he continues to plead his case. I just don't even want to read his excuses anymore. They're hollow and meaningless, and hearing them again just makes me angry and tense.
Turning my attention to the food on the tray, I pick up some strawberries and push myself out of bed, popping them into my mouth and then pouring a cup of coffee. I don't really want to put on last night's clothes, and since the blinds are still drawn and I'm alone, I walk naked into the other room to look for the laptop Chase had mentioned.
I find it on the coffee table, open and turned on.
"Okay Chase Anderson," I say aloud. "Let's see who you really are."
After five minutes on Google I'm back in the bedroom, dialing back to Canada on my cell phone.
"Lila? Hi, how's Vegas?"
"Evelyn," I say my roommate's name quickly, ignoring her question, "tell me everything you know about Chase Anderson."
7
"Oh my god, you are not!"
"I am, I'm in his room right now," I can't help but smile at Evelyn's reaction.
"Wait a second, what about Harrison?"
Evelyn just finished telling me that Chase Anderson was regarded as one of the best poker players in the world, and had apparently won millions playing it. He had a reputation as something of a ladies' man, although she wasn't sure how much of that was just rumor based on his good looks. He lives in Vegas, but flies around to play in some of the biggest games around the world. My roommate was a bit of a fan girl when it came to poker players a couple of years ago, and I know she still sort of follows them. She grew up with a father who was a semi pro himself, but living in Toronto with a family meant he never gave living the lifestyle a real shot. He taught the game to Evelyn when she was young and she was into it for a while, even earning enough to pay for some of her college tuition. But she was never really into it as much as her father, and as far as I knew she gave the hobby up completely a couple of years ago after graduating.
She actually met Harrison at a game and the two of them had been casual friends ever since. She was the one that initially introduced us, and consequently I wasn't too thrilled with having to tell her what happened.
"We broke up," I finally said, blowing out a long breath as I prepared for her response.
"What? What happened?"
"It doesn't matter," I say, embarrassed to admit to the actual circumstances of having my boyfriend using me as a poker chip. "It's been a long time coming. I mean, I knew it wasn't going to last Evelyn, I just didn't think it was going to blow up here."
"Oh Lila, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do? Maybe I can talk to him?" Although Evelyn and Harrison have remained friends while we've dated, they aren't that close. I'm hoping that means things won't be too awkward now. After all, Evelyn and I have been friends a lot longer than she's known Harry.
"No, definitely not. There's nothing for him to say. It's really over, Evelyn."
"Wow, okay. Wait... you're single now and you're in the hotel room of Chase Anderson? Spill, girl! I need details here."
I try to hold back a laugh at Evelyn's eagerness for details, but I don't want her to read too much into it. "Nothing. I just couldn't go back to the room with Harry last night-"
"Hold on, you spent the night there? With Chase?"
"It's not what it sounds like," I protest. Well, it is actually, but as I expect to end things with him today, I don't want my friend to get her hopes up. "Look, I'll tell you all about it when I get home on Monday, okay? I need to get showered and figure out what I'm going to do with myself for the next couple of days."
"You better. You don't just drop a bomb like you spent the night in Chase Anderson's hotel and then leave it at that..."
"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need to get out of here. We'll talk soon."
I feel a bit guilty about lying to Evelyn. She and I have been best friends since high school but I really did need to hurry. Chase was going to be back in a little over an hour and I really don't want to be here when he returns. It's time for me to get out of here and find another hotel. I remember seeing some cheap ones off of the main strip when we were looking to book our vacation, but Harrison had nixed them all because they were too far from the poker games he wanted to play. At least that means they'd probably be the last place he'd want to come looking for me.
I took a shower that ended up being longer than planned. Showers have always been my weakness, and are usually where I do a lot of my thinking. Something about the hot water pounding down across my head and shoulders as the sound of it hitting the walls and floor of the tub fills my ears just relaxes me. It lets my mind wander free.
In this case, my thoughts lead me to a plan where I wait until evening when Harrison is likely back at the poker tables and then call the room. If he answers I hang up, but if he doesn't then I go up and collect all of my stuff. Move everything out without having to see him again and before checkout time when who knows what will happen to it all.
Of course, I didn't spend the whole shower thinking about Harrison. I spent a lot of time thinking about Chase as well. From what I'd read on the web, confirmed with additional details from Evelyn, this guy was the real deal. Not at all like Harrison as I first suspected. Apparently this guy takes gambling to another level. Perhaps there is some truth after all to his argument about what he does being more about skill than gambling. On some level, I'm beginning to wish I had met him under different circumstances. Maybe we could have been more than just a
one night stand. Then again, I can't imagine any other circumstances where our paths would ever cross.
I stop the shower and step out, wrapping a clean towel around my body. I'm not at all looking forward to wearing my dirty clothes from last night again, but at least I now have a plan to get the rest of my stuff back. I won't have to be in them for long.
My phone says that it's already after one, but I still figure I have enough time to clear out of here before Chase gets back. Which is why I let out a surprised yelp when I see him sitting on a chair in the bedroom waiting for me.
"I thought you weren't coming back until two?"
"My mind wasn't on the game, I'm out early," he says, standing and flashing a smile that explains what his mind had been on instead as his eyes rove over the towel I have wrapped around me.
"Chase," I begin, meaning to explain that I need to leave, that this whole thing can't continue as much as I'm now wishing it could.
A knock at the door stops me.
"I got you something," he says as he disappears into the other room. I hear the door open and some quiet voices before he returns holding a garment bag in one hand and pulling the zipper open with his other.
The bag falls open and I take a sharp breath at the beautiful black dress it reveals. "It's gorgeous."
"I saw it on my way back from the casino and knew you would look stunning in it. Let's go out to a club tonight. You can wear this, I know the rest of your stuff is still back at your hotel."
I'm still staring at the dress. I can tell it's a designer outfit that I would never be able to afford on my own. I open my mouth to protest, but he steps forward, pressing his fingers against my lips.
"Say yes, Lila. Just say yes."
His shockingly blue eyes are pressing into me, I can almost feel their weight and force of will. It's so hard to say no to those eyes. Besides, where else do I have to go? The plan I had to get my stuff back was mostly born from my desire to not have to put back on yesterday's outfit. Now I have something else to take its place. At least for later. Until then, I have a feeling I won't need any clothes anyway.