Fair Lakes Series Box Set

by Kaylee Ryan, Lacey Black

  We’re headed to one of those private rooms I’ve managed to avoid for the last umpteen months since Chase began training me. We’ve always focused on cardio and a little weight training, but this? Alone in the small confines of a private room? This I’m not ready for!

  But I don’t have much choice as we step inside and the door closes soundly behind me. The room is cool and brightly lit, and my eyes instantly go to the large mat spread across the floor. There’s a set of small hand weights along the wall, as well as a few other torture devices used for working out. The room is small and cozy, exactly what I don’t need right now when it comes to alone time with Chase.

  “Uhhh, is this where you bring the ladies to torture them?” I ask, my voice slightly breathy.

  Chase snorts. “Oh, you don’t know what torture is, Gabrielle.”

  The way he says my full name. Gahhhh! So deep and husky and just… deep. Yeah, I said it twice. It warrants a second mention.

  He drops a small bag on the floor and steps into the center of the mat. My heart gallops in my chest as he beckons me to join him with the crook of a finger. Part of me is just like those women out in the main part of the gym, ready to eagerly run when he summons, but the other part—the bigger part that loves to goad at his nerves—just wants to refuse to come running because he tells me to. That’s why I simply cross my arms over my chest and raise an eyebrow in question. His eyes immediately drop to my chest, where I realize I’m pushing my boobs up and out of my top. I don’t move, though. I hold my position until he asks politely.

  “Gabrielle,” Chase warns, a hint of humor in his voice.

  “Ask nicely, Callahan,” I sass, holding my position.

  “Gabby, please get on this mat before I come over there, throw you over my shoulder, and spank your ass until it’s pink and sore.”

  Oh, God.

  Yes! Let’s do that!

  No, hormones, there will not be any spanking. Not today, not ever.

  “Well, since you asked nicely,” I say, stepping onto the mat. The moment my feet hit the padding though, he moves. Chase moves so fast, I barely have time to process that he’s moving, let alone react. He puts his shoulder into my stomach and lifts, lifting me up like a sack of potatoes.

  “Chase! Oh my God, put me down!” I holler as I realize I’m staring at his ass. His very fine, very firm, very tight ass. And then he cracks my butt with his hand, the slap echoing off the concrete walls, the sting spreading through my limbs. “What the hell?”

  “You were taking too long,” he states bluntly as he carries me to the middle of the mat. Before he puts me down, I go ahead and give my own little slap. It’s not as hard—the slap, that is—but it still reverberates off the walls. “Ouch. Why’d ya do that?” he asks as my hand tingles, both from the slap as well as the fact that I just had my hand on his ass, even if just for a millisecond.

  “A slap for a slap,” I argue as he starts to lower me. Of course, by lower, I mean he lets me slide down his front, chest to chest.

  As soon as my feet hit the floor, the earth starts to tilt. I’m pressed against his body, my hands still holding on to his shoulders, and my breathing a little labored. “Actually, I prefer to call it a spanking, not a slap,” he says, his lips twitching just a bit.

  “Fine, a spanking. Why the hell did you spank me?”

  His eyes flare and darken right before my own eyes. “When you’re naughty, you get a spanking, Gabrielle.”

  Holy shit, I feel that sentence between my legs. “I wasn’t the only one being naughty,” I say, wishing I would have just kept my mouth shut the moment I say the words. I’m playing with fire, I know this, but I can’t seem to stop.

  Chase smirks just a little before taking a step back, putting much-needed space between his body and my own. “Ready to work?”

  “Ready.”

  We spend the next forty-five minutes stretching and working with small hand weights. He works my core until I’m ready to cry for my mama and my body is like Jell-O. When the workout is complete, I feel amazing and horrible all at the same time—a feeling I’m used to having post-workout.

  The moment I try to stand up, my leg cramps up. “Ouch,” I whine, rubbing the back of my thigh in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

  “What’s wrong?” Chase asks, dropping his bag on the floor and kneeling beside me.

  “Cramp.” I rub hard on the back of my thigh, but nothing seems to release the tightness.

  “Here,” he says, grabbing my leg and pushing my hands to the side. Deft fingers dig into my thigh, massaging and kneading the place my body hurts. “Lie back,” he adds. “Take a few deep breaths and relax.”

  “Relax, sure. That’s easy for you to say,” I grumble as my back hits the mats and I pray for the discomfort to ease just a little.

  Chase snorts. “It is easy for me to say. I’m not the one with the leg cramp.” But even as he sasses me, his hands never slow down their masterful massage on my skin.

  Before too long, my body starts to relax and the pain starts to subside. Even as it fades completely, he never stops rubbing the back of my thigh. In fact, he adjusts his position so that he’s squatting between my legs and maneuvers my leg so that it’s right in front of his face. “I’m going to stretch you out again. Just lie there and relax, okay?”

  I don’t say a word. I can’t. I’m lost in the sensations of his hands touching my bare skin, his body between my legs, and his breath tickling my calf. I’m on sensory overload and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  Relax, okay, sure. That shouldn’t be too hard.

  He starts to move my leg, stretching my hamstring, quad, and calf muscles until they burn in the best way. When he’s finished with the first leg, he switches to the other. I’m about to tell him it’s not necessary, considering that wasn’t the leg that cramped up, but I keep my mouth shut. Frankly, I’m enjoying the hell out of having his hands all over my legs.

  Grabbing my leg, he starts to push it up, toward my head. The motion pulls, but I can’t think about the pain right now. I’m focused on the fact that he’s leaning into my leg, pushing against it. His body shifts until he’s directly between my legs, pressing my leg upward, but also pushing his groin into the apex of my legs. Did I mention I’m practically spread eagle and my new roommate is between my legs?

  Realization must set in as his eyes finally lock on mine. They’re dark and full of desire as he stares down at me, his hips between my thighs. Chase shifts, letting go of my leg and placing his hands on the mat, one on each side of my head. My leg instantly hitches over his hip as he lowers himself, pressing me into the floor.

  Breathing is a luxury I don’t have at this moment, which is fine. Who needs to breathe? All I want right now is to explore what’s pressed very firmly against my core. My hands grip the back of his T-shirt, holding him tightly against my body, praying that he’ll never move, yet move at the same time.

  We keep our eyes locked on each other as his head slowly lowers. I know what’s coming, but heaven help me, I can’t stop it. I don’t want to stop it. I want it so bad. So instead of telling him no and pushing him away, my eyelids flutter closed. His breath tickles my flushed skin, but my lips remain untouched.

  Just as I’m about to ask what’s wrong, I feel it. The lightest swipe of his soft lips across my own. It’s the slightest touch, but I feel it clear down to my toes. My body jolts to life, desire and need racing recklessly through my body like a tsunami speeding toward shore.

  My hands clench the cotton material as his tongue slides along the seam of my lips. I open to him, his tongue swiping inside my mouth, tasting and savoring. The kiss quickly turns ravenous, his body rocking into mine. I’d give just about anything to have our clothes evaporate right now. One hand holds him up, while the other strokes my jaw. His lips drop to my chin and slowly make their way down my neck. I’m certain he can feel my rapidly beating pulse as he runs his tongue over that spot on my neck.

  His lips eventually return
to my own, but this kiss is softer, slower, as if he’s savoring the feel of our joined lips. “Gabby.” His voice is barely a whisper, but I hear the pain loud and clear.

  We shouldn’t be doing this. He knows it. I know it. But that doesn’t stop him from taking my lips once more, this time, the kiss hard and fierce. He devours my mouth with his, owning this kiss as if he were a damned professional kisser. Finally, after what feels like forever and yet not quite long enough, he slows the kiss, eventually stopping it completely.

  His hand strokes my cheek, his finger grazing gently against my flushed skin. “Gabrielle,” he says again, the sound of my name bringing me out of the sex-fused haze I’m trapped in.

  I blink a few times before my eyes widen in shock. I can’t believe we’re doing this. Here. In the middle of the gym, where anyone can walk by the rectangular window in the door and glance in.

  “Shit,” he mumbles before slowly picking himself up off my body. I miss his heat, his touch instantly.

  Straightening my shirt, I sit up, averting my eyes. The silence is deafening and awkward, yet the hum between my legs is like a foghorn in the dead of night. Chase jumps up, extending his hand to help me up. I almost don’t take it, but to be truthful, I’m not sure my legs are strong enough to get me up off the floor anyway. So I reach up and place my hand in his. Warmth wraps around me as he pulls gently, helping me stand. As soon as I’m up, I turn toward my water bottle, taking hearty gulps of precious water, but also using it as a buffer to ignore the big fat elephant in the room.

  I take my time gathering up my stuff, my back kept to the only other occupant in the room. Finally, I hear the door open and I let out a shaky breath. He’s leaving, which is a good thing. I definitely made a mistake by kissing Chase. Not that I initiated the kiss, but I didn’t do a damn thing to stop it. In fact, I was practically purring like a cat, rubbing against his body like a feline in heat.

  This was certainly a mistake, right?

  But damn, it didn’t feel wrong when his lips were on mine.

  “I’m sorry I kissed you in a public place, but I’m not sorry I kissed you, Gabby,” Chase says, confirming he hasn’t left the room yet. My heart pounds a hard rock beat in my chest.

  Then he walks out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and post-kiss guilt.

  Chapter 6

  Chase

  I stalk out of the room and head straight to the men’s locker room. I need a minute. Fuck, I need more than that. I need her tight little body pressed against mine. I need her hands clutching my shirt and the warmth of her heat.

  I fucking need her.

  There lies the problem.

  No matter what I seem to do, she’s fighting it. With the exception of a few minutes ago. However, when I pulled back, I could see it in her eyes. The indecision. The way her eyes grew wide and how the worry mixed with fear filled those big green eyes of hers. I knew I needed to get away. I needed to separate our bodies before she had the chance to freak out. Not because she’s right, but because I’d have had no choice but to show her why her freak-out was unnecessary while showing her exactly how good we can be together. That is what I’m running from. Not because I’m scared, but because she deserves better. I’ve waited a hell of a long time to have her, and I’ll be damned if it’s finally going to happen on a sweaty gym floor.

  Thankfully, the locker room is empty. Bracing my hand against the wall, I bow my head and suck in a deep breath. I meant what I told her. I don’t regret kissing her. Just where I let it happen. I know she doesn’t believe me; she thinks this is a game to me. It’s not. I can see it in her eyes; she’s unsure. I’ll just have to prove it to her.

  She deserves more for our first kiss. Yes, first kiss, there will be more. Now that I’ve tasted her, it’s a craving, a need that only she can satisfy.

  Pushing away from the wall, I splash some water on my face, hoping like hell it works to cool my body down so I can get myself under control. With a deep breath, I exit the locker room. My eyes scan the room and immediately lock on her. I watch her as she packs up her bag and disappears down the hall. I follow her, waiting until I hear the door close before peering out the window, making sure she gets in her car safely. Satisfied when she pulls out of the lot, I head back to my office that I share with Harrison and gather my things.

  Once in my truck, instead of turning toward my place, I head in the opposite direction, steering my truck away from home. Away from Gabby. When I see the sign for her favorite Italian restaurant, I pull into the lot and call in all her favorites.

  Me: I’m bringing home dinner.

  Gabby: You don’t have to. I’m not really that hungry.

  Me: Too late. It’s already ordered. Be home in thirty.

  Tossing my phone back into the cup holder, I close my eyes, resting my head back against the seat. Without effort, the feel of her body pressed to mine, the taste of her lips, and the sounds that pulled from deep within her chest assault me. I want her. I’ve always wanted her. We can be friends, best friends even, but we’re more than that. I want to be her friend, her lover, her confidant, her shelter in the storm. I want to be her everything.

  Not long after I pull up to the house. All the lights are on, and warmth takes flight in my chest. The thought of coming home each night to Gabby is something I never knew I craved, not until this moment. I want it for more than just a few weeks, though. I want it for a lifetime.

  “I’m coming for you, Gabs,” I murmur as I pull into the garage and climb out of the truck with our dinner in hand. I kick my shoes off in the mudroom and make my way to the kitchen. Gabby is standing at the island—plates, napkins, and two bottles of water are set out.

  She was waiting for me.

  She glances up and must take my expression wrong as she begins to explain, “I just thought since you picked up dinner, I could—” She nods toward the island. I don’t say a word. I set the bag down beside her. “I love that place,” she says, eyeing the bag.

  I stand in front of her and cup her face in my hands. Her eyes capture mine and I can see the question behind them. Spreading my legs, I step closer, my body surrounding hers. “Let’s try this again,” I whisper before leaning in and pressing my lips to hers. I trace her lips with my tongue, dying for a taste and begging her to open for me all at the same time. “Gabby,” I growl, and that’s all it takes. Her name on my lips has hers parting and accepting my kiss. Her hands grip my wrists, but she doesn’t try to pull me away. No, her grip is holding me to her. I kiss her until I have no breath before pulling away and resting my forehead against hers.

  “This—” I swallow, catching my breath. “This should have been our first kiss.” I kiss the tip of her nose and pull back. I don’t move from my spot in front of her. Instead, I put one arm around her waist, holding her to me, while the other starts pulling our dinner out of the bag.

  “Chase.” Her soft, tentative voice meets my ears.

  “Yeah, baby?” I look down at her, giving her my full attention.

  Her eyes widen at my endearment, but she doesn’t comment. “What was that?”

  “That was me saying hello.”

  She sighs. “We can’t do this.”

  “Why?” Food forgotten, I grip her hips and lift her up on the island. I step between her legs and wrap my arms around her. “Tell me why, Gabs.”

  “There’s too much at stake.” She bites down on her bottom lip.

  I nod. “You’re right, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “It means I want you. I’ve wanted you for far too long.” I confess what I’m feeling, but I keep most of my thoughts to myself. I don’t tell her that coming home to her is more than I could ever ask for. I don’t tell her that when I imagine my future, it’s her who’s beside me. She’s not ready to hear all that. Not yet.

  “Chase,” she murmurs.

  “Take a chance on us, Gabs. You and me.” She opens her mouth to speak, and I can tell
by the look on her face, I’m not going to like what she has to say. “Dinner’s getting cold,” I rush out before she can shut me down.

  “It smells delicious.”

  I grab a box of chicken alfredo, her favorite, and mine as well. I pop open the lid and reach beside me, pulling a fork out of the drawer. Forking up a bite, I hold it up for her. “Open.”

  “Chase, I can feed myself.” She rolls those beautiful green eyes at me, and I smile.

  I nod. “Open,” I say again. I’m still standing between her thighs, not willing to lose my connection with her. With a heavy sigh, she opens her mouth and I feed her the first bite. “Good?”

  Her hand comes up to cover her mouth while she chews. “So good,” she mumbles.

  I fork up a huge bite for myself, then offer her another. I stand here and feed us both until the first box is empty. Without a word, I toss the empty box on the counter, and reach for the second, repeating the process. “Last bite,” I say, offering it to her. She opens for me, and I watch as her mouth closes over the fork. My cock is impossibly hard. Tossing the second empty container on the island, I place my hands on her hips and pull her to the edge of the counter. “Around my waist,” I tell her.

  “Wh—?” She shrieks as I lift her from the counter. She immediately wraps her arms and legs around me.

  “Grab our waters, baby.”

  Without question or complaint, she snags the two bottles of water and holds them in one hand while the other grips the back of my neck. I carry us into the living room and sit on the couch. She tries to move, but I don’t let her. I take the waters from her grip, opening one and handing it to her. She’s straddling my hips, a bewildered expression on her face. “Drink.” Twisting the cap off the second bottle, I place it to my lips and drain the contents. When she’s had enough, I take hers and place it on the end table.

  “What are we doing?” she asks, making no effort to move from her spot on my lap.

  “I thought we could watch some TV,” I tell her. I’m not sure if it’s surprise or disappointment that crosses her face; it’s gone before I can decipher it.