by Hannah Ford
It was love.
It was glorious sex and darkness and the intermingling of souls.
She’d never felt so taken and so powerless and powerful all at once.
She fell into him and then deeper into herself.
When it was done, she was breathless, and she opened her eyes to see him rising to his feet. He stood, and she saw that his cock was poking out of his boxer shorts. There was a sheen glazing the head of his dick.
He saw her looking at his cock and when she met his gaze again, he was grinning.
“I think you need to continue to keep that big mouth of yours full, so you don’t say more things you’ll regret. Get down on your fucking knees.”
She dropped quickly. The t-shirt was still wrapped around her wrists and the panties around her ankles.
“Put me in your mouth. And stay quiet,” he reminded her.
Faith grabbed hold of his thick, swollen member, and stroked it once. She could smell him—his scent, his seed—as she licked the tip of his cock, swirling her tongue all around the dripping head of him.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his stomach becoming concave as he inhaled sharply.
Faith knew he was incredibly turned on. And she was just as turned on as Chase—even more so, perhaps.
The urgency of the act came in part from the volatility of everything that had happened to them and between them these past hours.
And now Chase had thrown down the gauntlet and taken control of her. She had to admit, she liked it. She wanted it.
And right now, she wanted nothing more than to suck him and make him come, to feel him releasing everything into her mouth, and to know that she’d made him so hot that he’d exploded.
The anticipation was killing her. She started to take him into her mouth fully now, wanting to truly suck him. Her hands were “tied” together by the t-shirt around her wrists, but she hand enough flexibility to allow her to stroke his cock, his heavy balls.
Meanwhile, she concentrated most of her energy on taking his huge dick into her mouth as far as possible.
And then she wrapped her lips tightly around his shaft, before sliding her head back until just the head of his cock was still between her lips.
“Fuck,” he moaned.
It was working.
She slathered the tip of his cock with her tongue, letting her saliva pool and then drip down his soaking member.
Meanwhile, there was a buzzing between her legs, a humming sensation, as she got more and more turned on.
The presence of Chase Winters standing above her, controlling her, his masculine, dominant form like nothing she could ever had imagined.
And now she didn’t need to imagine anything, because her wildest fantasy was here, in the flesh.
He was the very definition of sex, of power, of manliness.
And she had his most manly part in her mouth, and she was turning him on, and that turned her on too.
She gripped his balls tightly in each hand, cupping them, before sliding her mouth down, down until she nearly gaged on the root of him.
His hips flexed.
She bobbed up and down now, sucking hard and fast.
All she could hear was the slopping of her wet mouth as she sucked him off, and her butt and glutes ached from the action of holding herself steady as she gave Chase Winters the best head she could give.
He obliged by fucking her mouth as she came towards him.
He pumped harder and faster as she managed to increase the speed of her own sucking.
His cock was starting to drip salty cum into her mouth and Faith had to admit—she loved the taste of him. She wanted more.
More.
Her head moved of its own accord now, it’s own rhythm. They were like some bizarre connected sex machine, two parts working in perfect harmony.
Faith slid her lips up and down his stiff shaft as he flexed and pumped in time with her movement.
Finally, he groaned and announced that he was about to come.
Frantically, she worked harder, jerking the base of his dick with both hands, and it was so slick and wet that she knew he was about to blow.
And blow he did, cursing and shouting at the top of his lungs. He became rigid, almost like a statue, as he spurted a hot rope of cum directly into her mouth and throat.
She swallowed, trying to take it all down and not choke.
He shot another spurt of hot semen and she swallowed, swallowed, swallowed.
Chase’s muscles stood out in stark relief as he closed his eyes and climaxed, groaning in pleasure that was intense she might have thought he was wounded.
When it was done, he withdrew, breathing deeply. “Jesus,” he said, backing away, his eyes wide. “That was incredible.”
She smiled up at him.
“You can talk now,” he told her.
“I’m sorry about what I said before,” she said.
“We both got upset. It was a crazy situation.” He untied the t-shirt from her wrists and she stood up straight, stepping out of her panties.
She was completely naked.
Chase picked her up by the waist, effortlessly lifting her into the air as she squealed. He brought her close, wrapping his arms around her as their nude bodies pressed tightly to one another.
She laid her cheek against his hot skin. “You’re magnificent,” she told him. “I’m sorry I ever hurt you.”
“All is forgiven,” Chase said. “I could never stay angry with you. You’re too beautiful.”
* * *
After showering and changing into fresh clothes, Faith felt like a new person.
Chase was in a good mood and so was she.
“Is it weird that we fixed that argument with sex?” Faith asked him, as she admired herself in the bedroom mirror.
Chase was putting on his sneakers over by the bed. He glanced at her. “No.”
She smirked. “I mean, did we actually solve the problem though?”
“There is no problem.” He tied his sneakers and stood up. “That’s what you needed to get, and that’s what I showed you. Now don’t make me teach you the same lesson twice, girl.”
She felt a flutter in her chest as she looked at him in the mirror.
His smoldering sexy looks were nothing she could ever get used to.
“Maybe I like being taught lessons,” she told him.
His eyes darkened. “Don’t tempt me right now.”
She giggled a little, and her cheeks flushed. Chase approached from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. It sent a shiver up her spine and she laughed again. “You feel good.”
He murmured something unintelligible and kissed her neck and breathed into her ear.
“Something’s buzzing,” he said. “Shit, that’s me.” He grabbed his phone from his pocket and stared at it momentarily.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Detroit area code.”
She felt a flinch of anxiety. “You don’t think it’s Boogie, do you?”
“No, it’s not his number.” He seemed unsure, but then answered it abruptly. “Hello,” he said, his voice distinctly cold.
At the same moment, Faith’s cell phone buzzed and she looked at a text from her sister.
Mom and Dad say we r coming to visit u and Chase.
Faith felt a pit opening in her stomach at the prospect of her mother and father meeting Chase and how horrible such an event might be.
How should she respond? She’d been ignoring her father and mother’s texts and voicemails long enough. Things were going to get awkward indeed if she didn’t find a way to resolve the situation.
Besides, she thought. Could she blame her parents for wanting to meet her new boyfriend, regardless of how famous he might be?
It was only when she looked up from the phone that she saw Chase’s ashen expression. His face had gone deathly pale.
“What kind of evidence?” he said, his voice sounding choked, like he was
being strangled.
Evidence.
Maybe it was someone calling about the incident between Monique and Velcro.
But that didn’t make sense because he’d said it was a Detroit phone number. And then she considered Chase’s history. Maybe an old crime he’d committed was coming back to haunt him in the present.
His eyes stared blindly into nothing as he listened intently to what the person on the other end of the phone was saying. “And you’re sure it’s him,” Chase said. “He’s…you have him in custody?”
There was another long pause that felt like it went on forever.
“Okay,” Chase said. “Thank you for letting me know, officer.” He hung up the phone and stood there, as if in a daze.
“Chase,” she said, swallowing, her mouth suddenly dry. “What happened? Who was that?”
He turned and looked at her, finally coming out of his trance. He blinked as if seeing her for the first time. “That was the Detroit police. They finally solved my mother’s murder. After all these years, they used DNA evidence to arrest her murderer.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” she asked.
He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I guess it is.”
“But you don’t look relieved.” She had a growing premonition that this was not such a relief after all. “Who did they arrest, Chase?”
“Boogie killed my mother,” Chase said, his jaw flexing. “The man I considered a father. The guy who I have thousands of dollars to, who I hung out with, partied with, laughed and joked with. He fucking killed her and then spent time with me like it was nothing.”
She was stunned. “Are they sure?”
“The cop said it’s almost one hundred percent. They have DNA evidence and other circumstantial evidence that corroborate it was him. He’s in jail right now, as we speak.”
“You can’t blame yourself,” she said. “There was no way you could know.”
He nodded. “Maybe not. But I won’t let it happen again. So now I have to fix things,” he told her.
“Fix what?”
His jaw set. “Life is about to get very exciting.” His dark eyes blazed. “I’m going to put things right, just like you wanted me to. Can I trust you to stand by me when I do it?”
“Of course,” she said, instantly, even though she didn’t know what he intended to do. “I love you,” she said.
“It’s going to get worse before it gets better. But I need to know I can count on you,” Chase said. “When everyone turns against me, I need you by my side.”
She felt a thrill of fear. “Always,” she said.
His words repeated over and in her mind.
When everyone turns against me…when everyone turns against me…
Chase Winters was about to turn his whole world upside down, and hers right along with it.
Maybe he was right, and she’d never truly taken a risk before now. But she was suddenly going to take the biggest risk of her life on his behalf.
She just hoped and prayed it wouldn’t turn out to be the biggest mistake she’d ever make.
End of Book Twelve
THE DEBT 13
Chase Winters had warned her.
He’d told her that it was going to be a bumpy ride. In his words, the whole world was going to turn against them.
But as they sat down in the Vox News offices with a handful of the most powerful media personalities in the world, Faith felt herself shrinking from the challenge.
“This is highly irregular,” said the head of programming. His name was Sherm Edwards and he was older, bald, but his manner was energetic and intense. “We’ve already shot and cut this week’s show.” He was standing up, hands on hips.
“Fine. I’ll go to ESPN,” Chase said, making as if to rise from his seat at the long table.
“Hold on. Just—just hold on a damn second,” Sherm Edwards said, holding his hands palms out, like a referee signaling a foul. He turned to a woman in a black blazer sitting nearby. “Can we do this? Legally?”
She sighed. “It will be risky, but most of the heat will go on Mister Winters.”
Faith took a nervous breath in. She was sitting next to Chase at the table, but she couldn’t have felt further away from him. It was as if he was on an island and she was floating away from him. “Chase,” she whispered.
He looked at her. “I know,” he whispered in response. “I know.”
The host of Vox 60 was Meghan Cowell. It was the most watched weekly news program in the entire United States, and she was the face of it. Meghan was beautiful and blond, but her credentials were the real deal. She’d covered the Iraq war, had met with terrorist leaders, conducted interviews with heads of state all over the world, and even done a hard-hitting one-on-one with President Bush that had made headlines years back.
Meghan looked at Sherm Edwards. “I think we should do this.”
It was the first words she’d spoken since the meeting had begun.
Sherm folded his arms. “We don’t know what kind of can of worms this is going to open up. Do you really want to risk your reputation on totally unsubstantiated rumors?”
Meghan twirled a pen in one hand, tapping it on the table as she leaned back in her chair and stared at Chase. After a long pause, she glanced at Sherm. “I believe him. I think the story’s legit. It will be huge. Worth bumping the current episode. What have we got—something about corrupt lobbyists in politics and that little girl who raised money for children in sub-Saharan Africa?”
“She might win the Nobel Peace Prize,” a man across the table said.
“Yeah, but she didn’t win it yet.” Meghan turned back towards Chase. “But he—he’s got that fire in his eyes. He’s got a big story. Let’s do it. Whatever we need to do,” she said, turning to the woman in the blazer. “Put the legal team on it. Iron clad contracts for Mister Winters.”
Faith cleared her throat. “So who’s going to protect Chase?” she asked, her voice sounding thin in the silence.
“Protect him from what?” another person at the table asked.
“Well, you’ve got this legal team making sure you’re covered, but what about Chase? Is he going to be sued over this?”
Sherm stepped forward, leaning in and placing his fingertips on the table as he stared at Faith. “We’ve made our position clear to Mister Winters. These are his words—his stories. If he’s lying, we’re not going to be able to protect him from the fallout.”
“I’m not lying,” Chase said. “And I don’t need anyone to protect me. I’m doing this.”
Faith licked her lips. “I just wish you’d take some time and think it over.”
“I’ve done enough thinking to last me a lifetime. I’m ready to move.”
Meghan stood up and extended her hand. “And we’re ready to move with you.”
Chase got to his feet and shook hands with her. “What now?” he said. “How soon can we start?”
“Legal’s going to need a couple of hours,” Sherm said. “But I don’t see why we can’t begin shooting the interview now. We’ll have contracts for you to sign before the end of the day.”
“That settles it then,” Meghan said. “Let’s get at it. We’ll bring you down to the studio, Chase.”
Before Faith knew what was happening, they were being brought to a small studio where the station filmed various news pieces.
They had Chase sit down in a leather chair that had been made to look like it was in the corner of someone’s home. Behind him was a potted plant, and next to it a small desk.
The crew were running a microphone and attaching it to his shirt, and at the same time others were styling his hair and applying makeup.
He was just sitting there while dozens of people ran and buzzed and swarmed, and Faith was standing off to the side, watching.
Helpless.
They were lighting him and setting up cameras.
There was a frantic energy in the room that Faith could only equate to the moments before a big football game.
&n
bsp; She found herself biting her nails and praying.
Just let this all be okay. Please, God.
It had all happened so fast.
Chase getting that phone call saying that his mother’s killer had been caught and imprisoned based on old DNA evidence. Chase finding out that the man who’d been like a father to him—Charles Boogie—was the man who’d murdered his mother in cold blood all those years ago.
And now, Chase deciding that he was going public to tell the truth. The whole truth about his life.
Meghan Cowell sat down in the chair opposite Chase and got her microphone attached and the makeup artists touched up her face and hair.
She looked beautiful, as always.
As Faith watched, someone grabbed her bicep lightly. She turned and found herself face-to-face with a young man holding a clipboard. “Excuse me. We need to clear the room. Only necessary personnel or staff should be in studio during filming.”
Faith cleared her throat. “Yes, but I’m with him. He—he asked me to come.”
“Sure, but you can watch from the monitors outside,” the clipboard guy said in a low, almost confidential tone of voice.
Faith felt her shoulders slump and she nodded. It hurt to be excluded. She was frightened and anxious and wanted to be with Chase during this intense experience.
“Okay,” she said.
“Follow me.” The young man turned and Faith moved to follow him.
“Hey,” she heard Chase raise his voice. “Why is my girlfriend leaving?”
Faith stopped and turned.
Chase was looking at them with a disapproving stare.
“This is a closed set,” the man stammered. “It’s customary—“
“I don’t give a shit. She stays in here with me or I walk.” Chase glared at the man, who looked to Meghan.
She gave a tense smile. “Sure,” Meghan said lightly. “She can stay. Just keep quiet, all right?”
Faith nodded and returned to where she had been standing, and the man with the clipboard moved away.
And now the cameras were in position and everyone was quieting down, as the director stood nearby, just a few feet from the two chairs where Chase and Meghan sat.