I needed to talk to him.
My feet had me running from the bench across the intersection to his building, ignoring the red light at the corner. As I dodged traffic to get back to him, my heart raced at the notion that he might not be there waiting for me.
When security buzzed his apartment to give me access to his elevator, I held my breath as I stepped in. I had too much time to think about how this could go while it carried me up the sixty floors. Even though he watched me leave, he could be mad that I did.
He should be mad at me that I’d left. I’d be mad.
As the elevator opened to his penthouse, he was leaning against the wall.
Waiting.
He looked like a broken version of himself. His shoulders were slumped and he had his hands deep in his pockets. He tilted his head up and to the side as he inspected me, most likely for any decision or indecision he could detect. As I took a couple tentative steps toward him, he opened his arms and I walked into his embrace.
We held on as if we both thought it might not happen again. I tried to keep my sobs silent and to myself, but my shaking shoulders gave me away. His arms squeezed me even tighter.
“I’m sorry,” I said into his chest between cries. “I shouldn’t have taken off like that. It wasn’t fair of me to do that to you.”
Both of his hands went to my head, cradling it against him. The tenderness he offered made my heart ache.
How could I walk away from this?
I didn’t want to.
But I also didn’t know if I could walk away from the only security I had in my life.
CHAPTER 32
Maryellen
Even though talking should have been paramount, other things took precedence. Chase held on to me as he walked me backwards further into his apartment. As he did, our clothes came off piece by piece.
Shoes were tossed aside. His hands lifted my shirt as he muttered in my ear for me to lift my arms. My feet stumbled as I did, and his strong arms steadied me as our steps got back in sync. He threw my shirt to the floor as my hands inched the cotton of his up his rippled torso. Once my fingers were against his bare chest, he expertly reached behind me to unclasp my bra. He slid the straps from my shoulders, my breasts exposed to the chilled air. That was when my backside slammed against the cold slab of the kitchen island.
All that remained were our pants.
“I’m sorry,” I kept muttering against his chest. “I love you so much, I’m so sorry.”
His hands cradled my cheeks as he looked deeply into my eyes. “It’s OK, babe. I’m happy you came back to me, that’s all that matters.”
His kiss was strong as he held my face. Our lips and tongues danced between us, battling to confirm what we had was true and real.
He went to his knees, pushing the loose pants I wore to the floor. As I stepped out of them, he wrapped his hands around my ass and lifted me onto the counter.
“Fuck,” he said as he spread my knees and pulled me against his body. “You look fucking amazing on my kitchen island.”
His hands ran up my legs, from my knees to my inner thighs, resting along the edge of my panties.
“It’s time for these to come off now, too.”
He looped his fingers around the strings at my hips and tugged gently. I lifted my ass from the stone as he slid them under me. Once I was fully naked, he stepped back and admired me with a hum of approval.
“So fucking beautiful,” he said.
His fingers trailed up my sides, tracing the outer edge of each breast. He cupped them in his hands, pushing them together, just as he lowered his head and his lips covered a pebbled nipple. Sucking it deep into his mouth, my head fell back in complete ecstasy.
Leaning back on my arms, I pushed myself against the hardness still inside Chase’s jeans. With my breast still in his mouth, he undid his pants and stepped out of them. I reached inside his boxers, unveiling his hard dick, eager to feel the silky skin.
Suddenly, his mouth abandoned my breast as he widened my legs and dove between them. Losing the grip on his cock, my hands went to his head, holding him in place as his mouth found my clit and clamped on.
