“Chase, I can’t find any,” I say. “Are you sure they’re here?”
“Yeah. Dammit.” He draws his fingers slowly away from me and then leans over me, flipping on a lamp. He peers into the drawer. “Oh, fuck. I think I’m out.”
I glare at him. “Tell me you’re joking.”
He falls back on the bed and covers his face with his hands.
My pussy throbs. My breasts are engorged. He’s flipped a switch to my libido, and I can’t turn it off. Only he can satiate me.
And he’s going to have to.
His cock stands tall, sharing my body’s refusal to give up. I take it in my palm and slowly stroke it while considering an alternative.
“Chase …”
“Yeah?” he asks, his voice hoarse.
“This is the unsexiest conversation I’ve ever had, but I’m on birth control. And I just had my yearly exam a couple of months ago, and it came back fine. I’m disease-free.”
He chuckles. “And you haven’t fucked anyone since?”
“No.”
His eyes flare. I’m on my back, and he’s hovering over me in a split second. “You went from the unsexiest thing ever to the sexiest.”
“It’s sexy that I’m in a dry spell?”
“Were.” He grabs my legs and wraps them around his waist. “Youwerein a dry spell.”
I reach between my legs and wink. “You’re right. I am pretty wet.”
He growls. The low and guttural sound coalesces in my core.
“I’m clean. I have an app thing from the doctor on my phone if you want to look at it,” he says.
“You’d just hand me your phone?”
“No.” He slides a finger into me, making me moan. “But you can go over there and get it if you want. I’ll unlock it for you.”
I suck in a breath and close my eyes, absorbing the waves of pleasure from him touching me.
“Are you going to get it?” he asks. “Orare you going to get it?”
“The phone or your dick? Is that what you mean?” He twists his fingers and pulls them out slowly. “Shit, Chase.”
“That’s what I mean.”
It would be easy to say I trust him without thinking about it. That would be the hedonistic answer, and I’m on a quest to pursue pleasure.
But it seems I’ve turned into a responsible adult.
“I’m happy to make you come on my fingers or face,” he says. “I don’t want you to feel pressured, sweetheart.”
Damn this man.
My heart swells, and I open my eyes. A set of bright-green eyes that holds no secrets peers down at me. There’s no shield, no sense of manipulation to get what he wants—only a man who genuinely cares about me. Who wants to do the right thing … even if it’s uncomfortable.
He eases me back to the bed and lies beside me. My chest rises and falls as I try to make sense of the riot of emotions inside my head.
