by Desiree Holt
Chase was determined not to let the mention of his mother ruin what had turned out to be a nice evening. He was more focused on figuring out where this unexpected bolt of lust for his new “friend” had come from. This was supposed to be a very uncomplicated situation.
So why, as they walked from the restaurant, did he have such trouble keeping his eyes off the sway of her very fine ass, or have an itch to run his fingers through the silken fall of her hair. Damn, damn, damn. He hoped the breeze from the water would cool off his blood, not to mention other parts of his body. His cock was doing its best to make itself known again.
“That would be nice.”
There was indeed a soft wind blowing in, just enough to tease strands of her hair. The pier wasn’t too crowded so they were able to stroll at a leisurely pace. Sounds of partying came from the marina, and out on the water sailboats skimmed the surface in the last light from the setting sun. Farther out, powerboats churned up small whitecaps. Somehow he ended up holding Holly’s hand, and more surprising than that, she didn’t seem to object. Well, friends could hold hands, right? She didn’t seem anxious to break the contact.
They walked in a mostly comfortable silence the length of the pier and back again, letting the sounds and scents of the evening roll over them. When they reached the parking lot, he was reluctant to see the evening end.
“Think you’d like to see a movie tomorrow night?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Was he rushing things here? Would she get the wrong impression? “I haven’t been to a movie theater in longer than I can remember.”
“You haven’t?” She lifted an eyebrow.
He shook his head. “Usually watch them on television.”
“Well.” She flashed those dimples again. “I guess we’ll have to fix that.” She paused and cocked her head, studying his face. “I mean, friends go to the movies together, right?”
“Absolutely.” A tightness in his chest eased. “But I warn you, I used to hog the popcorn.”
Holly laughed, a soft, warm sound. “Don’t worry, I can fight you for it.”
“Why don’t you check the movies and times when you get home? I’ll call you in the morning, and we can decide on which one.” He paused. “Are you on a shift tomorrow? I didn’t think about that. Sorry.”
“I’m off for forty-eight. Just finished my twenty-four on, so I’m good.”
Yes, you are, Chase wanted to say, then mentally bit his tongue.
“Okay, then.” He walked her to her car, then stopped by the door. “See you tomorrow night.”
She nodded. “Tomorrow night.”
“I’ll call you to work out the details.”
“That’ll be good.”
Still she made no move to unlock the door. They stared at each other for a very long moment. Did friends kiss good night? What was the protocol here?
“Good night, Chase. Thanks for a really nice evening.” She paused. “Friend.”
“My pleasure.” He studied her. “Friend.”
She stayed in the same spot, looking at him, as if waiting for something to happen. But what? Was that electricity snapping in the air around them or just fireflies or summer lightning? This was not supposed to happen. Not even a little bit. God. Was he making a huge mistake here? Damn. The mistakes of his past popped up just when he didn’t want them to. He wanted to enjoy this, not question every little thing.
Holly moved first, unlocking her car door and slipping behind the wheel. She gave him a smile that was so uncomplicated and made him feel so good he had an unwanted urge to haul her out of the car and kiss the breath out of her.
She looked out at him. “Talk to you in the morning.”
“In the morning,” he agreed.
Chase stood in the same spot watching as she backed up, turned, and headed out of the parking lot. Everything about tonight had been more enjoyable than any night he could remember in a long time. At the same time something hot and savage wriggled through him. He had a desperate feeling that he wanted Holly Funchess to be much more than a friend. He also had a sinking feeling if they moved in that direction, it would be a disaster.
He didn’t trust women so he never let one get close enough to him for that lack of trust to matter. With Holly it would be a different story. She was the kind of woman who broke through all his shields without even trying. From just friends to friends with benefits to…what? All he’d wanted was a simple, uncomplicated situation with a woman, one that put no pressure on him.
Instead, here he was so hard his pants were choking him.
What the fuck had he done?
Chapter 9
Holly stared at her face in the bathroom mirror. What had happened tonight? What had she done? When she and Chase had discussed doing this over coffee, it seemed like such a perfect situation—two people acting like a couple to keep well-meaning friends out of their business. That was it. Chase had none of the irritating habits she’d expected from someone like him, none of the things other men in her life had that irritated her. He didn’t come across as demanding or autocratic or full of himself. On the contrary, he had the kind of quiet strength that came from being sure of one’s self. Being confident without having to brag about exploits or throw his power around.
Tonight was fun, even more than she’d expected. Truly. He made her feel important and special without silently getting the message across that he’d expect something in return. She’d relaxed with him, chatted easily, let the tension fall from her for the first time in ages. They talked about anything and everything, both of them amazed that they had so many interests in common. And that Texas drawl of his, faint as it was, was better than listening to music.
But then something else crept into the air around them. Since when did dinner out with a friend make her face so flushed and her eyes sparkle? Or her breath catch when she thought about him? And speaking of breath catching, he’d been wearing that incredible aftershave again, something that reminded her of a cool ocean breeze, which she thought so appropriate. She’d caught a hint of it that first night at Ralph’s, and then again when they’d gone for coffee. Not overpowering, like the way some men splashed it on. Just enough to tease her nostrils and make her nipples harden.
Geez, Holly, get a grip.
She had to be imagining things simply because he hadn’t turned out to be an asshole, something she was always prepared for. At dinner he’d seemed relaxed and actually listened to her when she spoke. He was smart, funny, easy to be with and to talk to.
When they took that little walk along the pier, the same easygoing atmosphere had wrapped itself around them. She was sure this was going to turn out to be the nice, uncomplicated situation they both wanted. Something for show to satisfy their friends. And maybe become good friends themselves in the process.
But running beneath the surface was a high voltage sexual current that she tried to ignore. It had sparked the minute she’d seen Chase tonight, an unexpected swarm of butterflies in her stomach woke up to do their fluttery dance. In his soft collar navy shirt that had made him look even sexier and brought out the dark blue of his eyes, and khakis that hugged a magnificent ass, he was a very tempting morsel.
When he’d taken her hand or cupped her elbow, his touch sent sparks and tingles popping through her. Heat had raced over her skin, her nipples hardened, and the pulse in her sex throbbed with insistent intensity. Despite the easygoing atmosphere, she’d had to work hard to get through dinner without embarrassing herself in some way. Even now, remembering it, she had to squeeze her thighs together to still the unrelenting beat.
All through dinner and afterward she’d sneaked little looks at him to see if he was feeling the same thing. Even as they talked about everything and nothing, she’d wondered if Chase felt the same sexual pull she did. If so, he had certainly hid it. Maybe it was all in her own mind. If so, she’d better kill it before she saw the man again, or their attempt at friendship was doomed.
Well, hell. She wasn’t having much luck putting her erotic thoughts out of her mind. He’s a friend, she repeated to herself. Friend, friend, friend. Maybe she needed to tattoo the word on her forehead. No romance. No emotional connection. No anything except…friendship. If she didn’t get her hormones in place, she was in grave danger of torpedoing that before it barely got off the ground.
With every ounce of discipline she could muster, she suppressed the thoughts dancing in her mind, climbed into bed, turned off the light, and closed her eyes.
Big mistake.
An image of a nude Chase—or what her mind imagined him to look like without a stitch of clothing on—plastered itself to the inside of her eyelids, tempting her and teasing her. The image of his naked muscular body, with its swollen, mouthwatering cock, set up the thrumming in her sex again, her inner walls vibrating with need.
What the hell?
How did he happen to show up in her stupid fantasy? She blinked her eyes, hard, opened them, and then, gritting her teeth, tried closing them again. Damn! No luck there. Chase still shimmered against the inside of her eyelids, the sight of his cock making her swallow hard. What was she going to do?
After throwing back the covers, she hopped out of bed and into the bathroom. She filled the glass she kept there with water and drank it down without stopping. She’d probably have to get up to pee a million times, but maybe all that liquid would wash her mirage out of her system. It was to be hoped, anyway. Back in bed, she punched her pillow before nestling her head on it again, pulled the covers up to her chin, and tried closing her eyes again.
Damnation!
Not only had her mind conjured him up again, but now he had the fingers of one hand wrapped around that impressive shaft. She was hardly aware of her tongue sliding out to lick her lips, or of her accelerated heartbeat. Go away, she wanted to shout. This isn’t part of the deal.
Maybe not, but almost of its own volition, her hand moved down to pull up the hem of her sleep shirt and cup her mound. When she slid one finger between the puffy lips, she found herself slick and drenched with her liquid. Holy crap! She didn’t remember the last time she’d been this wet.
No matter how tight she squeezed her eyes shut, the figure would not go away. Her body hummed with a sudden, voracious need, and every nerve snapped with electricity. Maybe she should reach for her battery-operated substitute that she kept in her nightstand drawer, but that somehow seemed out of place, an intrusion on the intimacy of this moment. With a movement that was almost tentative, she eased her thighs apart to give herself better access to the heat of her sex. Her closed eyes still retained the very sexy image of Chase DeMarco, only now he looked as if he was watching her. Hunger blazed in his eyes.
In slow motion she skated her fingers back and forth over the lips of her sex, barely brushing the trimmed curls. Suddenly it was Chase’s fingers rubbing back and forth, back and forth, in a movement that teased her nerves. Deep inside her a throbbing set up that pulsed in the sensitive walls of her core, a flutter that quickly became a clenching movement. Finding her clit with the tip of one finger, she stroked it in a circular motion, pretending it was his finger inside her. The walls of her sex fluttered with each touch. The imaginary Chase smiled, a hot, hungry curving of his lips as if encouraging her to do more, more, more.
Needing greater access, she bent her legs and planted her feet wide apart on the mattress. In desperation, she pinched her clit, imagining it was him, and the throbbing increased, spreading outward. She gritted her teeth as she squeezed the sensitive nub between thumb and forefinger and tugged on it with firm strokes. As she did so, the imaginary Chase wrapped his own fingers tighter around his cock, his index finger sliding back and forth over the darkened head as he continued to watch her. If she’d been turned on before, she was in the grip of a fever pitch now.
Continuing her assault on her swollen nub, she slid her other hand down between her thighs and eased two fingers inside her hot, wet channel. With the abundance of dry spells between male companions, not to mention the unfortunate history of bad sex, she’d learned how to satisfy herself in a way that gave her almost as much pleasure as being with a man who knew what he was doing. She put that acquired knowledge to work now, working her fingers in and out as she tugged and pulled on her clit and pinched it.
As the tension in her body ratcheted up, the heat engulfing her grew in its intensity. Chase, Chase, Chase, she moaned, a silent chant in her head. Her breasts ached with unbearable need, so she pulled her hands free for a moment and slid them up her body. She spread the liquid coating her fingers on her nipples, then pinched each one hard, squeezing until pleasurable pain shot through her. She did it again and again, even as the walls of her cunt pulsed with heavy need and her body demanded satisfaction.
The imaginary Chase gripped his shaft harder, stroking it once up and down and nodding at her as if in encouragement. She thrust her hands between her thighs again, pushing two fingers into the wet clasp of her walls again and finding her clit with thumb and forefinger. Her heart raced, her breath came in hard gasps as she drove herself closer and closer to release. Every part of her wanted to reach that apex, and reach it right now. She imagined the illusory Chase looming over her, his hard cock filling her, his body taking her up that mountain of pleasure with hard, steady thrusts.
She knew exactly the spots to touch, how hard to stroke, how fast to move her fingers. His fingers. And all the time Chase’s hot eyes silently encouraged her. As she neared the pinnacle she added a third finger inside her and lifted her hips off the bed, digging her heels into the mattress. Pinching her clit one more time, hard, she tumbled into her orgasm, body shuddering, walls clenching, moisture flooding her hand. She never stopped the rhythm until the powerful shudders slowed. Then she lowered her hips and rode out the rest of her climax, gripping down on her fingers and squeezing her thighs together. Spasm after spasm rocked her, every muscle in her body tightening with the effect, until finally the shuddering eased and slowed. And then at last it stopped, leaving her breathless and sweaty.
Spent, she lay there gasping for breath, aftershocks rippling through her, body coated with a fine sheen of perspiration. At last she let her legs go lax and slid her fingers from their wet channel, dragging them up the slope of her tummy, cupping her breasts with her hands. When her breathing slowed and her heart rate returned to something near normal, she focused on the illusory Chase again. The smile of satisfaction on his lips made her body begin to throb again, and she squeezed her legs together to control the need.
After a long moment she thought about getting up to wash her hands, debated with herself but decided against it. She was weak and spent, as if someone had pulled a plug at the bottoms of her feet and all her energy had drained out. Moving would definitely be a problem. In the end she just wanted to retain the aftereffects of what had happened, hold them to her like a secret addiction. She’d done this plenty in her life, satisfying herself, but none of those sessions had impacted her the way this one did.
Her mind was spinning. She and Chase were supposed to be friends. Just friends. What was she going to do now? How could she keep the memory of this from showing on her face when she saw him again? How on earth was she going to handle seeing him and acting like it was no big deal? Maybe when he called her to make plans for tomorrow night she should make up some lame excuse to postpone it. No, that wouldn’t work. Chase DeMarco was way too sharp to be fooled by anything like that. He’d be at her place in a shot demanding to know what the problem was.
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br /> How could she tell him the problem was him?
Besides, she was actually looking forward to seeing him again. As a friend, she reminded herself again. A friend she could be herself with, could relax with. Have fun, without any of the mess and drama “relationships” brought with them. Sure, Holly. And just how would she do that?
Discipline. The same discipline that made her a good firefighter. Yeah, maybe, but this would certainly strain its limits.
She fell asleep with her fingers pressed to her lips and her mind searching for the image of Chase, now nothing more than a smoky memory.
* * * *
Chase parked in the driveway of the townhouse he rented, unlocked the front door, and flipped on the lights in the foyer. When he’d made the decision to move off base, he’d thought about buying a condo and actually owning something. He could always put it in the hands of an agent and rent it out if he was reassigned. But after giving it a lot of thought, he’d decided he didn’t want the hassle of upkeep. Whatever needed fixing here or taking care of, all it took was one phone call and the property manager made sure it got done.
He had really lucked out, finding a place in a small community of townhouses on a quiet street. The rooms were spacious, the fixtures all new, every counter granite. Not that he cooked much or had people over to show it off, except for his friends in the little tightknit group when they came to barbecue and watch football on his humungous television. When he had a sleepover, it was always at the woman’s place, where he could share coffee and a muffin in the morning, then get up and go home to his own space.
His particular unit looked out on a preserve, the view giving him a peaceful view, which he sometimes needed if the day’s assignment had been stressful. It also had a nice-sized covered patio where his dad sat and read on the few occasions he’d been to visit. That’s where Chase stood now, looking out at the view and wondering exactly what had happened tonight. Not what he’d expected, that was for sure.