Author: Bella Andre

He ran his tongue over her skin again and the softly desperate sound she made had him moving his hand from where he’d been cupping her neck down to a thin, silky strap on her shoulder. She was soft, so damn soft that he almost lost the thread of what he was doing, but then she took a deep, shaking breath, her breasts moving against his chest, swelling up beneath the top of her dress.

And he remembered exactly why he needed to slide the strap off her lovely skin.

A picture of her breasts—water from the bathtub beading and sliding over her soft flesh—was forever imprinted on his brain. And now that he was just seconds away from touching, tasting them, Chase could barely get his hands to work right.

He needed to get the straps off.

And then, silk was sliding down over her shoulders and he didn’t even need to give her dress a yank, because Chloe was two steps ahead of him, lifting her arms from the confines of her dress and shimmying her upper body so that the bodice slipped one inch, and then another, and then one more still, until her breasts popped out from beneath the thin fabric.

Chase froze as he drank her in. Her breasts were perfect, full and round, beautifully natural in the way they lay against her chest, tipped up to him with desire.

Finally coming unstuck, but still utterly mesmerized, his hands warred with his mouth for the pleasure of being the first to touch her.

His hands won by a hair as he reached out to cup her.

“Oh God. Chase.”

He tore his gaze away from her breasts, from the contrast of her pale skin against his tanned fingers, to see that she was staring intently at exactly the same thing. Her eyes lifted to his a moment later and the look in them had him dropping his mouth to hers again, her breasts still in his hands.

Their kiss took on a different sheen this time, the desperation for each other kicking up another notch. Chloe was rubbing her breasts harder against his hands, almost as if she were begging for something.

For more.

“Watch, Chloe.” Pulling back from her mouth, he trained his gaze back on her breasts as he ran his thumbs over the taut peaks. “Look how responsive you are to my touch.”

She whimpered as he caressed the taut flesh again, harder this time, and then again. Her skin puckered beneath his thumb.

“Please.”

He barely heard her request, the sound more a breath than a word, but he needed the exact same thing she did.

Chase bent his head down and she arched her back to make herself more available to him. In one smooth motion, he laved his tongue over her soft skin. A part of him wanted to spend the rest of his time there, with his tongue on her breasts, running it across every inch of her soft skin, over both peaks. But his lips, his teeth, had other ideas, and it was barely a moment later that he was closing his mouth down over her, swirling his tongue over her even as his teeth lightly scraped the rigid flesh.

She made a soft moan, then, that had him throbbing dangerously in his jeans.

There was nothing feigned about her response. Chloe was pure sensuality, just as he’d known she would be. He’d watched her come in the bathtub, and yet, being a part of that pleasure tonight, being the reason she was drowning in desire, put what he’d been feeling for her in another stratosphere entirely.

They’d talked about being friends—she’d told him how much she needed that—but he’d spent the last twenty-four hours in a constant state of arousal for her, and he couldn’t stop himself from bunching her skirt up his hands and running one hand up her bare thigh.

Turning his attention to her other breast, his mouth closed down over the peak just as his fingers found her panties, damp with arousal.

“Yes,” she gasped as he tugged on her breast with his lips, moving his hand up so that he could slide in beneath the thin fabric of her panties.

Worries, concerns, reservations—they all flew out the window as he found her with his fingers. She was practically bucking in his arms, arching into his mouth, widening her legs to give him better access to every part of her. Moments later, Chloe was crying out and her muscles were clamping down on him in a beautiful, out-of-control rhythm, a living, breathing orgasm beneath his mouth and hands.

Her release seemed to go on forever, from one peak to the next, and Chase felt like the luckiest guy on the planet. He wanted to do nothing from here on out but make her come. Watch her come. Listen to her come.

He’d give up everything for her, if he had to. And it would all be worth it, just to be witness to such overarching, all-consuming pleasure.

He’d noticed how beautifully she came in the bathtub the night before, but it was nothing like experiencing it first-hand.

Amazingly, when she finally settled back down in his arms, instead of being sated, she looked up at him and said, “Please, Chase. More. I need more.”

He knew just what she was asking for—she wanted him to take her, right then and there on his brother’s porch in the middle of the vines.

Chase had never wanted anything so bad.

Only, when she’d been asking for more, her words had slurred together. Just the slightest bit.

But he heard it.

Worse, her eyes were unfocused. Blurry. And not just because of her orgasm.

Chase didn’t want to have to ask himself if she was drunk, if she wasn’t totally in control of what she was doing with him out on his brother’s porch. He wanted to believe that the slurring had everything to do with how good he was making her feel and not the number of times her wineglass had been refilled. He could do anything he wanted to her right now, turn her around on the balcony so that her ass was pressed up against his groin while he lifted her skirt and pulled down her panties. He could fill his hands with the perfect, heavy weight of her breasts while he slid into her from behind. And both of them could get what they desperately needed.

But, damn it, he just couldn’t do it.

Not when he knew he’d never—ever—be able to live with himself if this went even further and Chloe woke up in the morning not knowing what she’d done.

He couldn’t be one more man to take something away from her.

He needed to stop this.

Now.

Not wanting to startle her, he slowly moved his hand from between her legs, letting the dress fall back down. A moment later he was pulling up the bodice, covering up breasts that he would kill to taste again.

“What are you doing? Why are you stopping?”

“I think it’s time to get you home to bed.”

Her mouth moved into a sensual pout. “I’m not tired, Chase. Not yet.”

Sweet Lord, it was hard not to take another kiss from that mouth. Even harder not to rip off her dress and take her right there on the wood-plank decking.

“You’re lovely, Chloe, so damned lovely, but I can’t take advantage of you like this.”

The pout turned stubborn. “You’re not taking advantage of me. I’m the one who kissed you, remember?”

This was even harder than he’d thought it would be. Because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her feelings. He didn’t want her to think he didn’t desire her like crazy.

“I want this more than you can imagine, but I need you to be completely with me.”

“I was with you.” She lifted her mouth back to his, whispering, “I’m still with you,” against his lips.

“No, sweetheart.” He dragged his mouth away from hers. “I don’t want you to look back at this tomorrow morning and hate me because I took advantage of you when you were drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!”

“You’re not completely sober, either,” he made himself say in a gentle voice.

She looked crushed. Completely crushed.

Hating it, Chase said, “You don’t know how hard this is for me to do.”

Her steps were mostly steady as she turned and began to walk away from him, but every now and then she seemed to catch and right herself on her heels.

Chase knew he was right to have done what he did.

But it didn’t make him feel any better. Not when he could feel Chloe’s hurt and embarrassment radiating from her during the silent walk back to the guest house.

She didn’t so much as look at him as she waited for him to open the front door. Even though he was desperate to reach for her, to pull her against him, he let her walk past.

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

She stopped, then, looking at him over her shoulder for a moment. Her bright eyes were dulled now. Without saying a word, she walked into her bedroom and closed the door with a soft click.

And as he got into an ice-cold shower and took his shaft in hand, even as he focused on the mental picture of her breasts in his hands, even as he remembered the taste of her on his tongue, and the feel of her aroused, slick flesh pushing and squeezing against his fingers, Chase couldn’t stop wondering when the hell honor had become his goddamned duty in life.

What was wrong with him?

He’d had a warm, wet, and willing woman in his arms just minutes ago.

And he’d walked away from her.

Chapter Eight

Chloe packed her bag first thing in the morning and put her jeans and T-shirt back on.

Last night had been too close. She’d wanted Chase too much.

Which was why she couldn’t stay here any longer.

A new basket of pastries and fruit was on the counter for her again and pride should have dictated that she walk right by it, but that would have been plain stupid. She didn’t have the money for a taxi. Which meant she was going to be walking out of here, down long country roads until she could find a bus stop.

Pride was fine and dandy. But not when she was going to desperately need the fuel to keep going.

Only, what had tasted so delicious the previous morning was sawdust in her mouth now, and she had to force herself to eat the croissant she’d picked up.

Of course, the folded note with Chloe written on it in Chase’s handwriting didn’t help, either. As she chewed and swallowed, she stared at the paper.

She swore it stared back.

It would be better not to read it. Just to walk out of here, say her thank-yous and goodbyes, and forget she’d ever met a beautiful man whose kisses tasted like heaven.

But Chase had been nothing but kind to her. So kind, in fact, that instead of taking her the way she’d been so desperate to be taken the previous evening, he’d put a halt to their kisses. He’d actually pulled his hand from her panties after she came for him and walked her home without another touch.

Oh, that first kiss had been intense. Wicked. Perfect. She could have kissed him all night. Chloe had dreamed of that kiss all night long, could still feel the way they’d almost been taking breath from each other’s lungs. She’d woken up aching for another kiss…and for the chance to cuddle up with Chase under a blanket somewhere and just kiss all night long.

It was that urge to cuddle with him, that desperate desire to feel warm and safe, that clarified her intention. She had to leave.

But the truth was, she’d wonder what had been in his note every second of every day if she didn’t look at it. As she grabbed it off the counter top, the edges crumpled with her rough handling.

Chloe,

I hope you slept well. One day soon, I’m going to be able to enjoy breakfast with you. I’m looking forward to that. A lot.

Please join us again today. Everyone thinks you’re great.

See you soon,

Hotstuff

HOTSTUFF

P.S. It does need all caps, don’t you think?

Somewhere between the A lot and the crossed-out Hotstuff, all the tingly, mushy feelings that Chloe had been trying to squash inside of herself popped back to life. Bigger and stronger than they’d been before, even.

Last night, she’d been riding a light buzz and enjoying herself until Marcus’s innocent questions. At which point she’d started guzzling his wine. Chase had known she wasn’t all there, that the wine had dulled her just enough for her to give up control without a thought of protecting herself.