Chasin quickly stepped back. He turned off the stove and moved the pan of bacon to a cool burner. He turned back to me, picked me up by my middle, and gently deposited me on the counter. He wasted no time moving between my legs and hauling me close.
Now we were pretty much face-to-face and he was staring into my eyes, concern clear as day.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“Last night, did I hurt you?”
Oh no.
I didn’t mean to do it—as a matter of fact, I was desperately trying not to do it—but I felt my body grow stiff.
Chasin saw this and immediately gentled his features.
“I’m trying,” I told him. “I’m not gonna hide from you.”
“I know.”
His right hand went to my neck and he moved my shirt collar to the side and traced the bite mark he’d left with the pad of his finger.
I took a breath, remembered it was Chasin in front of me. Chasin who left that mark. Chasin who’d given me everything I’d asked for. Chasin who’d pushed me to be real. Chasin, who just a few minutes ago, had given me open honesty.
“I like it there,” I said, and his eyes came back to mine. “I can’t explain why. But this morning when I was getting in the shower and I saw it, I liked it.”
“You don’t need to have a reason to like something, Evie. I gotta ask you something about last night.” Chasin paused and did his search-my-face thing before he continued. “Last night, you told me you needed it rough.”
Oh no. Heat hit my cheeks and I felt my heart start to jackhammer.
“Babe,” he continued, “you gotta know I won’t judge you, and in this particular situation, even if I was the type of asshole to judge, I couldn’t. Because I think you know by now, I seriously get off on what you give me. That includes how wild and rough you like it. Do you get that? It includes that, not despite that. I fuckin’ love when you start humming deep in the back of your throat and it sounds like you’re ready to attack me. No bullshit, it’s hot as fuck.”
He studied my eyes. “But last night, I saw something flash on your face and it looked a lot like shame. So I gotta ask, are you okay with everything we did last night? I was pretty rough with you.”
It was about three hours earlier than I was used to being up and I still hadn’t had a sip of coffee. My head was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that I’d found myself back in Chasin’s bed. And all signs were pointing to him wanting to get to know me better. Not only had he told me straight out that was happening, he’d shown me he was serious.
So that’s why I sat on the counter in his kitchen—too early, without coffee—and spilled my guts.
“I’ve never been like that. Not even before I became Vivi Rush and had to be careful because everything I do can be leaked to the press and spun into something ugly. Truthfully, sex has always been bland. Meaning not great for me. I haven’t been a nun, I’ve had a few men over the past few years, but it was…different. I didn’t trust them, so I didn’t let go and enjoy it. It became tedious and not worth it so I stopped trying.
“Then I met you, and from the very beginning, I trusted you. What I’m trying to say is, I’m not wild and rough, not with anyone but you. So I didn’t know I liked to be spanked or have my hair pulled or have you bite me, or pinch me. I didn’t know because no one has ever tried, and if they had, I would’ve stopped it.”
I paused. “I think…I think last night…I don’t know, maybe I was confused about why I liked it. But then you told me you knew what I needed and it hit me—you did. You always seem to know what I need, even when I don’t want to admit I need it. It wasn’t shame you saw, so much as confusion, then peace. And I’ve never, ever had that. I’ve never felt safe, and you make me feel safe and free. I wasn’t sure what to do with it, but then you spanked me and I didn’t get a chance to think about it anymore because I wasn’t thinking at all.”
I shrugged. “So I still don’t know why I like seeing your mark on my shoulder, or why it turns me on that my butt still stings, but it does. And I figure as long as I like it and you like it, it doesn’t matter why. But if I had to guess, I think it’s because this morning, seeing that bruise reminded me that for however long this lasts, I’m yours. Really and truly yours. Marked, claimed, and taken care of.”
When I was done, Chasin was staring at me, this was an altogether new look. One I’d never seen before so I couldn’t begin to understand why he was staring at me like he’d never seen me before.
Then his hands moved from my hips where they’d dug in to my face. But they didn’t stay there long because they slid into my wet hair and roughly yanked me forward. I thought he was going to kiss me but he didn’t. Chasin shoved my face to his chest, held me there, and growled.
“Fuck.” The expletive sounded like it was ripped from his soul, and suddenly I was worried I’d shared too much.
Or maybe I’d said the wrong thing.
“I…um…maybe—”
“Don’t, Evie. Don’t take it back.”
“Okay,” I whispered against the hard wall of muscle he’d smooshed my face against.
“Fuck,” he repeated. “Don’t know how, don’t know why, and I’m not questioning it. Never thought I’d find it. But fuck me, I love the fuck out of you, Genevieve.”
He pulled my face from his chest, then he kissed me.
Wet, deep, and thorough.
So thorough, I was sopping wet, my clit pulsed, my nipples tingled, my heart was beating fast, and my mind was racing.
Then my mind blanked, because I couldn’t concentrate when Chasin was plundering my mouth like he owned me. All I could do was try and keep up. Thankfully, he was in the mood to take, which meant there wasn’t much for me to do other than give.
So that’s what I did. I gave and I gave and I gave.
Until I heard, “Ohmygod. Oh. My. God. I’m so sorry.”
Chasin broke the kiss and Silver Beil was standing there with her son Dylan in her arms and her husband Weston standing next to her. Silver was red-faced and looked like she wanted to vanish about as much as I did.
Weston, on the other hand, was laughing his ass off.
“Stop it,” Silver hissed.
“Sor…sorry, but, Silver, baby, this shit is hilarious.”
Every cell in my body froze.
“Weston,” Chasin growled.
Not one of his sexy, turned-on growls, but a very pissed-off one.
“Come on, after all the shit you gave me.” Weston chuckled again.
“Weston,” Silver snapped again and jerked her head in my direction. Weston’s gaze followed his wife’s gesture and his smile fell.
“Shit, Genevieve. I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you. I swear.”
“It’s okay,” I muttered, even though I was totally embarrassed. “Let me down.” I turned and whispered to Chasin.
“No, honey. Stay right here. And he’s not laughing at you. He’s being a dick, paying me back because one time he and Silver got it on in the kitchen. And after they were done, Holden and I walked into the house and caught Weston bleaching the counter. He used so much of it, we nearly passed out from the chemical smell. We took jabs at him and gave him shit. Silver wasn’t in the room or Holden and I would’ve kept our mouths shut.”
I glanced back at Silver, whose face was now bright red, then my gaze slid to Weston and he looked properly chastised.
“It’s fine, really,” I said, feeling better that I wasn’t the butt of the joke, but still embarrassed we’d been caught.
“No, it’s not. Chasin’s right. I was being a dick. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”
“Yo. What’s going on?” Bobby asked when she entered the room. “Cool. Chasin’s making breakfast.”
Thank God for Bobby.
I took in her workout gear and shook my head. “You’re the only person I know who will run five miles then stuff their face with bacon,” I noted.
“I only work out so I can
stuff my face with bacon. And bread and cheese and desserts and anything else I can find.”
This was true. Bobby didn’t work out because she liked it. She did it because she liked food while she also liked looking good in a bikini.
“You better hop down, baby, and get yourself some coffee so I can finish making breakfast,” Chasin said to me. Then to Weston, “Did you come over here just to ruin my morning or was there something else?”
Bobby heard Chasin’s sharp tone, then belatedly took in the vibe of the room. “What’d I miss?”
Weston looked like someone kicked his puppy, Chasin was pissed, and Silver looked mortified. On a whim, I decided to cut the tension. My day had started super awesome and I wasn’t going to let one small hiccup ruin it. Even if that hiccup was Silver and Weston busting up a seriously good make-out session after Chasin had told me he loved me, and it was embarrassing to be caught in a clinch with my lips locked on Chasin’s and my legs wrapped around his waist.
“Well, Chasin and I were goin’ at it hot and heavy and Weston and Silver caught us.” I shrugged.
“Here? Like they caught you in the kitchen?” She giggled.
“Yep. Apparently, this kitchen’s seen some action, considering Weston gave Silver the business in here, too, which led to Weston bleaching the place. The way Chasin tells the story, Weston used enough bleach to kill brain cells. We didn’t get that far so bleaching isn’t necessary, but I’ll still wipe off y’all’s counter just to be courteous.”
When I was done, two manly chuckles and two female giggles filled the room.
My cheeks were blazing but I’d accomplished my mission and everyone was smiling.
Seemed my luck had changed.
Finally.
23
Leave it to Genevieve to take Chasin from wanting to beat the hell out of his friend for embarrassing his woman to laughing his ass off.
And she’d done it between one angry thump of his heart to the next.
Genevieve jumped off the counter then shocked the shit out of Chasin. She rolled up on her toes, brushed her lips against his, and muttered, “Do you need a refill?”
“No, baby.”
She held his stare for a beat then smiled and moved the coffee pot. Chasin turned the stove back on to restart breakfast, now feeding five instead of two. He was thinking about the fact he’d been so lost in the moment with Genevieve he hadn’t heard Weston come in. He also hadn’t heard him approach, and that shit was dangerous. Weston could’ve been anyone, he could’ve been the sick freak who was stalking Genevieve, and Chasin wouldn’t have heard him until it was too late.
“How was your run?” He heard Genevieve ask.
“Horrible. Holden went with me. My legs are shorter than his, and he kept yelling at me to catch up. Then he was showin’ off by running backward. I’m never running with him again.”
“Yeah, you are. Tomorrow,” Holden boomed. “And your phone’s going off.”
Goddamn. He just wanted one morning alone with his woman, especially after she’d opened up without the slightest bit of prodding. He should’ve taken her straight back to bed to show his appreciation instead of losing control and kissing her on the counter. But after hearing her honesty, seeing her sincerity, and feeling the warmth of her body pressed against his, he’d lost it. He couldn’t stop himself. She tested every limit he had and he didn’t mind he failed. Not when the failure meant his mouth was on hers.
Chasin vaguely heard Genevieve asking Silver about Dylan and Silver's answer, but he was so far in his head plotting his next move he wasn’t paying attention. Though the very loud and angry screech from the living room pulled him from his plans.
“You’re fucking kidding me right now!” Bobby shouted.
Instantly, bodies shuffled out of the kitchen. Once again, Chasin shoved the pan to the back of the stove, angry that Genevieve’s breakfast would be further delayed. By the time he’d made his way into the living room, everyone was staring at a very irate Bobby, pacing the room.
“That’s a problem, Leslie.” Pause. “Yeah? Well, Vivi’s not gonna think so. She’s gonna be pissed. And just to remind you, she let Melissa go yesterday. I can’t speak for her, but if I were you, I’d fix this shit before she has a chance to call you back.” Pause. “Bullshit. You can fix it. Call whoever it is you call to bury shit like this and I’ll call Colleen. I’ll tell Vivi about Bent but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”
Bobby pulled her phone from her ear, stabbed the screen, and turned, looking at the audience she’d gathered. Her eyes went to Genevieve and Chasin braced. The woman was spitting mad but there was a hint of sympathy.
Fucking shit.
“The story leaked. Front page news that Vivi Rush has gone into hiding,” Bobby announced.
Chasin’s arm went around Genevieve and she immediately melted into him. Fuck, that felt good. And any other time, he would’ve taken a moment to enjoy it, but right then, Genevieve was shaking violently, and clinging to him in fear.
“Bent’s in town,” Bobby continued. “He wants a meet and doesn’t want to take no for an answer. He’s told Leslie the new material he has will put you in the country music hall of fame. Of course, Leslie’s all over that shit, even though everyone knows your songs are better than anything he can produce. And Melissa spun the story that she let you go. That story’s out, too, every entertainment outlet picked it up.”
The air sizzled and zapped with hostility. Surprisingly, it wasn’t radiating from the men. Genevieve was vibrating with it and Bobby wasn’t far off.
“No,” Genevieve rumbled. “Hell to the no. I am done.”
Genevieve’s voice was so thick with pain, Chasin’s arm automatically tightened and pulled her closer.
“Viv—”
“No, Bobby. Just no. We talked about it yesterday. You know where I’m at. All my life, I thought this was what I wanted. But it’s not. I don’t want any of this. I want to make music. That’s all. I don’t want the rest. As of right now, I don’t want it infesting anymore of my life. I’m not taking another goddamn second of these people thinking that they can run over me.”
“Okay, Viv. I get you. I agree. What’s the next step?” Bobby’s tone had softened considerably but her small frame was still wound tight.
Genevieve pushed away just enough to look up at Chasin. It took all of his control not to scoop her up and take her somewhere where he could erase the hurt he saw. Her face said it all—grief, sorrow, and heartache. Right in front of him, she was letting her dream go. Then the agony morphed into determination and she gave that to him, too.
“I’m firing my label,” she told him. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m getting rid of that stupid house in Tennessee. I’m moving into my uncle’s house until I can sort my life. And I’m writing music. It won’t be the same, but I can make money selling the songs I write. And who knows? If I write something I love and want to record it, I can produce it myself.”
She wasn’t moving into her uncle’s house but Chasin didn’t think it was the right time to tell her that. And besides, he needed to talk to Nixon before he told her his plans.
“Whatever makes you happy, Evie.”
“I don’t know what makes me happy. I felt happy when I was performing, but the second I walk off stage, I remember all the strings that come with that happiness. I’m happy when I lose myself in my music, but the second I finish pouring my soul out on paper, I remember there are strings with that, too. I’ve never been unconditionally happy, until a few weeks ago when I fell off the dock and was rescued by a stranger kayaking. There were no conditions, no restrictions, no strings.
“The only other person who has allowed me to be me is Bobby. No offense to her, she makes me happy, but there was still a hole in me. But that hole is starting to fill up, and the more it does, the happier I become. So, I’m selling my house, I’m stepping away from all the bullshit, I’m moving to Kent County, and I’m gonna be free so you can get to know the real me.
I wanted to talk to you about all of this and get your opinion, but Leslie ruined that by forcing my hand. Yet another thing she’s taken from me.”
And at that moment, he understood. Why he’d fallen so fast and hard for her.
This was the Genevieve he’d met.
The woman who wore her heart on her sleeve and let it all hang out. He’d spent two days with her, didn’t learn about her childhood, where she’d come from, what she did for a living, but none of that had mattered. She’d teased him, laughed with him, debated with him over stupid things like Pulp Fiction being the best movie of all times—her opinion, not his. But damn if by the time she was done thoughtfully and smartly arguing her point, he’d almost agreed.
She was beautiful, graceful, classy, funny, and intelligent.
But now he knew more about her. Knew her determination, her pain, her past, and goddamn if he didn’t love her.
The woman had grit.
He loved that, too. Loved that she was strong and wouldn’t allow anyone to walk on her, including him.
Chasin’s hands moved to her hips and the pads of his fingers dug in. “You do whatever makes you happy and I will do whatever I can to help you along the way.” One hand left her waist and came up to smooth the creases on her forehead. Then he dropped his voice and quietly said, “Your dream isn’t dying, Evie, you’re just making a new one. It’s time for you to start livin’ for you.”
He saw the wetness in her eyes and her lips pinched together. But she nodded and some of the stiffness slid away.
“You’re okay with me moving here?”
Is she crazy?
“If there wasn’t a room full of people around us, I’d show you just how okay I am with you moving here,” he returned, and Genevieve jolted. “We’ll save that for later,” he promised.
“Before any calls are made, we need to talk,” Weston cut in. “Another package was delivered.”
The air grew thick again. This time, the crackle of fury came from the men, the majority from Chasin. The feel of it was so dense, it compressed his lungs. Genevieve’s hand went to his chest, and almost like magic, he calmed enough to get his thoughts in order. She was counting on him—he couldn’t screw this up and let her down.
Chasin's Surrender (Gemini Group Book 5) Page 20