Breathe
Page 71

 Kristen Ashley

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“Uh…”
His hand at the small of my back became an arm around my waist and he said low, “Faye.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
His brows drew together. “There a reason?”
“Um…”
“Faye, bein’ real, my dick is still inside you,” he reminded me. “This is not only shit we can talk about. It’s shit we have to talk about.”
“Uh…”
“Honey –”
“I had really bad periods, I take the pill and it regulates them so they’re not bad anymore,” I said in a rush.
“Right,” Chace replied matter-of-factly then concluded, “Excellent. Next time I get you na**d and I get you, no condoms. All you. Fucking brilliant.”
He let my hair go, gave me a squeeze with both his arms, lifted his head off the pillow and touched his mouth to mine.
Then he rolled me to my back sliding out of me, bent his head, kissed my shoulder and muttered, “Be back.”
He rolled again and angled out of the bed. I dazedly watched the muscles of his back and shoulders move as his arms swung loosely at his sides (along with watching other, um… parts of him) because he was walking to my bathroom.
Okay, well, I guessed I didn’t need to be embarrassed about discussing my period with Chace.
Good to know.
I rolled the way he rolled, hung over the side of the bed, reached out and nabbed my panties. I had them on and was sitting on my booty in the bed, knees to my chest, arms around my calves, back against the pillows I’d shoved against the headboard when Chace came back out.
One could say I had no problem with his nudity. Even lucid. This could be because his body was like a walking, moving, blood-flowing in its veins work of art. Or it could be because he didn’t have any problem with it and that communicated something to me.
Whatever.
I didn’t.
There was something marvelous about him climbing na**d in my bed after making love to me that would make even the biggest prude not be embarrassed.
He pulled the covers up to his waist, put his forearm in the pillow and tipped his eyes up to me.
“I’m worried about Malachi,” I announced and his face went soft.
“Knew this was comin’,” he muttered.
He would since I texted him four times that day to give him status reports on the bags that Malachi had not been by to pick up. Not yesterday’s stash. Not today’s.
I twisted my torso to him, letting go of my legs, positioning them in an “S” beside me and leaned into him.
“Two days, Chace, and he hasn’t come to get his stash. This time, I wasn’t hanging out. This time, we were in your truck on the street,” I reminded him.
“Maybe he made us in the truck,” he suggested.
“Or maybe he saw me standing there Monday and he freaked out and he’s not coming back. When I left this evening, all the bags were still there.”
“It’s gonna be okay, Faye,” he assured me quietly.
I shook my head. “Something’s wrong.”
“Maybe but it’s going to be okay.”
I stared at him.
His arm came out, hooked me around the waist and pulled me down and in the bed so we were facing each other.
“I made a call,” he informed me.
I got up on my forearm so we were face to face.
“What call?”
He studied me before he sighed and said, “Deck.”
I felt my brows go up. “Deck?”
“Deck’s between jobs right now so Deck’s got time on his hands. When Malachi didn’t show this mornin’, I gave Deck a call. He’s gonna find him.”
“Oh God,” I breathed.
Chace’s arm got tight around my waist. “Baby, it’ll be okay.”
“Deck sounds kinda crazy,” I whispered.
“He is. He’s also not stupid. He knows this kid’s been abused, dumpster diving and scared outta his mind. He’ll go soft.”
“But –”
His arm got tighter, shifting and tugging me so I had no choice but to come off my forearm since I was back to the bed, Chace looming over me.
“He’ll go soft,” he whispered.
“You’re sure?” I whispered back.
“Yeah.”
I took in a breath, let it out and nodded.
“In the meantime, we keep doin’ what we’re doin’,” Chace went on.
I nodded again.
“Now, you gonna read or sleep?”
This meant, I assumed, Chace was tired. Then again, it was past his bedtime.
“Read,” I told him quietly and he grinned at me.
Then he bent his head and kissed me, one of his sweet, soft ones, open mouth, lazy stroke of the tongue. My toes curled, both my arms went around him and the fingers of both hands went into his hair.
When he ended the kiss, his lips didn’t leave mine and he murmured there, “Read.”
“Okay,” I murmured back.
He lifted up, kissed my nose and moved a hint away.
I rolled to my side of the bed and grabbed my Nook.
Chace’s light went off.
I turned on my Nook and read. An hour later, I turned it off, set it on my nightstand and turned out my light.
I barely settled into bed before I was hauled into and mostly under Chace with his arm at my waist.
“Done?” he mumbled sleepily.
“Yeah.”
“’Night, baby.”
“’Night, Chace.”
His arm gave me a squeeze.
I snuggled into him.
His weight settled into me.
I closed my eyes and went to sleep.
* * * * *
Ten oh seven at night, three days later
“Chace.”
“Fuck, baby.”
“Chace!”
“Give me that mouth.”
I gave him my mouth. Half a second later I moaned my orgasm into his.
When I was done doing that, his hand cupping my head shoved my face in his neck and he kept powering up.
I was back to his headboard, my legs around him holding tight, my arms around his shoulders doing the same. He was on his knees, his hand was at my behind holding me up and his other hand was in my hair, his arm holding me close.
And he was powering deep, his h*ps driving up, slamming into me.
Seriously, sex… was… awesome.
One of my arms left his shoulders so my hand could drift down his back to his behind and clench in so I could feel the muscles there working.
Sublime.
“Jesus, f**k,” he growled into the skin of my neck through grunts.
I was learning to recognize the signs. He was getting close.