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Chapter Twenty-Four
Carly
I lean down and slip my heels on before straightening and staring at my reflection in the mirror. There’s something different about the woman looking back at me – she’s happier… free in a way I never have been before and I can’t help but smile as I think about the reason why.
“Shit, Princess,” Chance growls as soon as he walks out of the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips and water dripping down his abs that I suddenly want to lick off. Maybe I could call in sick today and just spend the whole day in bed with him. “You look fucking sexy in that skirt. Makes me want to rip it off you.”
Running my hands over the navy-blue pencil skirt I chose for today, I playfully glare at him in the mirror. “I’m already running late and it’s all your fault.”
“I’ll take the blame for the time in the shower,” he says, stepping up behind me as he wraps his arms around my waist and presses his lips to my neck. “But I woke up with my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours so that one was all you.”
His breath washes over me, producing goose bumps in its wake and as his teeth sink into my skin, it doesn’t matter that I’ve already had him twice this morning because I want more. Closing my eyes, I imagine him bending me over right in front of the mirror and hiking my skirt up over my hips before burying himself inside me and I moan. My head falls back on his shoulder and I rub my legs together, trying to relieve the ache because I know I don’t have time for round three this morning.
“You’re insatiable, baby,” he whispers and the husky tone of his voice turns me on even more. He’s not wrong. Since our date Saturday night, we haven’t left the bedroom except to go to work yesterday and even then, I came home early because I needed to see him. Why is it that everything about this man turns me inside out?
“It’s all your fault.”
He meets my gaze in the mirror and smirks. “I’ll take it.”
Spinning me in his arms, he claims my lips in a kiss that is sure to leave me achy all day long and I mold my body to his as I sigh, my lips parting in invitation. I swallow his groan as he walks us backward and presses me against a wall. Running my fingers through his wet hair, I’m rewarded with another deep groan and I’m just about to say “fuck it” when he pulls away, breathing hard.
Something is definitely different between the two of us in the past week and I don’t know if our relationship is actually different or if it just seems that way because I’m not constantly fighting my feelings anymore. Maybe letting go of my fear allowed me to see what was right in front of me all along. Either way, I’m not obsessing over it. Being with Chance feels too good to spend my day worrying about things that could go wrong. There are still things that I need to tell him about my past and I will, when the moment is right but until that time comes, I’m not going to stress about it. For the first time in twelve years, my mind is clear of the agony that’s haunted me for so long.
“You’ve got lipstick on your face,” I say with a giggle as I start wiping it away and he waits patiently for me to clean him off before leaning in and kissing my cheek. When I glance at the clock on the bedside table, I groan.
“Shit. I really have to get going.”
He nods. “Just let me get dressed and I’ll walk out with you.”
“Am I going to see you tonight?” I ask, holding him captive as he tries to pull away. His grin makes my heart skip a beat.
“Of course, you are, baby. You think I’d miss a chance to see you? Besides, I’m pretty sure I go through withdrawals when I’m away from you for too long.”
I roll my eyes and push him away. “Don’t try and sweet talk me.”
“There’s the attitude. I was beginning to wonder if you were going soft on me,” he says with a laugh and I glare.
“Go put your clothes on.”
He laughs, his gaze locked on my face as he walks backward into the bathroom with humor lighting up his eyes. When he disappears behind the door, I go back to the mirror and shake my head, unable to wipe the ridiculous grin off my face. God, that man is doing strange things to me.
I fix my smudged lipstick before applying another layer and running a brush through my hair. When I’m satisfied with my appearance, I leave the bedroom and walk into the kitchen where I gather up my bags and slip my laptop into its case. Chance strolls in, looking sexier than any man has a right to in jeans and a t-shirt and kisses my cheek as he passes me on his way to the Keurig.
“Want some coffee, babe?” he asks and I glance down at my phone before shaking my head.
“No, it’ll take too long. I’ll just grab some on the way.”
Nodding, he turns away from the counter and watches me gather up my things. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah,” I answer, scanning the room to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything and he walks over to me, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together. The whole thing feels so… domesticated but what’s even more surprising is how much I like it. If you had told me this would be my life a couple months ago, I would have laughed my ass off but then Chance walked into my life and I can’t deny how right this feels. We walk over to the door and as I grab my keys off the entry table, Chance opens the door and I jump. A woman is waiting on the other side, her hand raised like she was about to knock.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says, her voice timid as she glances down the hallway nervously. As I take in the maid’s uniform she’s wearing, I try to figure out who she is before my gaze locks onto the piece of paper in her trembling hand. I glance over at Chance, who shrugs.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Rosie, ma’am. Are you Carly? Miss Ivy’s sister?”
At the mention of Ivy’s name, my heart jumps into my throat and my imagination goes into overdrive. Who is this woman and how does she know my sister? Chance squeezes my hand and when I peek over at him, he’s studying the woman in front of us with narrowed eyes.
