Beautifully Awake (30 page)

“What do you mean? I just assumed he had some kind of trust or something.”

Asher lounged back in his teak chaise. “He did. From his grandparents. But couldn’t touch it until he turned twenty-one. Inherited Kim’s too, all of it. Donated her entire trust, every fucking penny, and then he spent most of his taking care of her after he moved her from that shithole. Twenty-four hour, state of the art care. Flew in every fucking specialist and expert. Sadly, pretty much too late by then, not sure it made a difference. She died shortly after. His parents fucking suck, never paid one goddamn doctor bill.” He sat up and straddled the lounge chair. “Thought it was a waste. Said she was practically dead anyway, why waste good money. Sweet, right? That’s how she wound up in Boston in the first place. That shithole took any charity case to get a fucking tax break.”

A vice strangled my gut. Chase said his parents left her to rot, but I thought they just never visited her.

Asher must have seen the horror on my face. There was no hiding it. “Yeah.” He shook his head, obviously agreeing with my all-time low opinion of Chase’s parents.

I wasn’t the biggest fan when I met them, now I pretty much hated them.

He took another swig, probably to soothe the burn. “You should have seen how pissed his parents were when Chase used the money he had left to finance his research. We’re talking epic meltdown. They’re so fucking greedy—they went off the rails. That was pretty much the final straw. Chase was done. Been done ever since. A few years after Kimi died and his company started to take off, it all came out ... his parents went under.”

“Went under?” His parents gave off the vibe that they were rolling in money.

“First they lost the Hamptons house, almost lost the Park Avenue penthouse too, a fucking Ponzi scheme.” He stood up and started pacing.

I had seen that testosterone time bomb before. No wonder Chase and Ash were so close. Asher looked angry.

“Your guy bailed them out, paid off the penthouse mortgage, gave Pete a job. Then basically told them to go fuck themselves. Now they live fucking scot-free in that mausoleum.”

Of course he had. As much as
my guy
thought he was selfish, he was the one who was selfless. My stomach sank, my appetite gone. I sat down on the loveseat and rested my heavy head against the back.

“Pete?” I asked.

“Yeah. He was the family driver for years, hell, when we were
kids
. Man, he took Kimi’s death worse than her own parents. When everything went down, Chase made sure Pete was set financially, but the guy refused, wouldn’t accept a dime he didn’t work for. Needless to say, twenty-five years from now your man will probably be driving Pete’s ass around, soothing his pride with some other made up job.” That explained a lot.

“See why he can’t stand visiting his parents, even on their birthday? Dickhead really only shows up when he has to, mostly to appease me, and in return, my parents. To this day, can’t understand why they’re friends. Whatever.” Asher finished his beer.

The French door creaked open before I said anything, not that I had anything to say right at that moment. Chase sauntered outside, wearing low-slung sweats and a fitted white tee. His hair was wet from his shower. He looked relaxed and beautiful. I made a conscious effort to table whatever I felt about what Asher shared. Chase deserved a carefree night with the two people who cared the most about him. And I was going to give it to him.

“Dick, why does my girl look like her puppy died? What else did you lay on the table for her in the five minutes I was gone?”

Shit. My poker face sucked. Again. The last thing I wanted was Chase to be upset with Asher. I sat forward to explain, but Chase beat me to it.

“Ash man, you’re like a schoolgirl. You can’t help yourself. Fucking diarrhea of the mouth.” Chase grinned, and relief washed over me. He gave us an out. Chase wasn’t stupid. So far from it—it was scary. Just like the day in his parents’ apartment, he knew he walked in on a conversation he’d rather not be part of, a conversation he probably wished never happened. But unlike that day in their study, there were no more secrets between us. Last time he feigned ignorance, this time he chose to lighten the mood. And I was grateful.

“Whatever, asshole. What are ya drinking?” Asher was unfazed by Chase. The way old friends should be.

“I’ll take a beer. And while your lazy ass is up, Blue could use a refill.”

Asher didn’t blink at Chase’s nickname for me. Hell, I didn’t blink anymore. I freaking loved it.

Chase sat right next to me, angling my legs over his thighs, forcing my body to relax against the couch armrest. He smelled clean, a mix of soap and deodorant. A mix of ocean and citrus. Delicious. My senses were spoiled. Never would I tire of his smell. Ever.

Chase’s magic fingers went to town massaging my bare feet. His warm touch relieved my tension—from witnessing his mixed emotions about visiting Boston, finding out he had parents that sucked in every way that counted—to learning that the man I loved chased fuck-face out of Wrangel to give me back my home. None of it mattered. Not right now, at least. Right now, we both needed a little normalcy.

Asher tossed Chase a beer and topped off my glass, before collapsing back onto his lounger. “What do you guys feel like eating, what should we order?”

“Sushi?”

“You and the fucking sushi, C. You ever eat anything else, man?” Asher’s expression was priceless. Effing priceless.

Maybe it was the foot massage, or the alcohol, or maybe the weeks of pent-up anxiety, who knew? But there was no holding back. None. I spit my wine halfway across the terrace laughing. I belly laughed so hard my cheeks burned.

Chase and Asher ping-ponged a
who-brought-the-cool-kid
look, making me laugh even harder. My sides stabbed. I had no clue the last time I laughed this hard, really laughed. How sad was that? Good thing I went to the bathroom when we first got back to the apartment, or instead of the inevitable two-drop dribble that always snuck out before you remembered to clamp your thighs together in the mother of all Kegels, I might have pissed my pants. Sandwiched between two of the most handsome men I’d ever met, the thought of peeing my pants made me roar. Talk about a tension release ... weeks in the making.

“You’re a hoot, Lil,” Asher chirped out, in between dragging on his beer and shaking his head in amusement.

“A hoot? You fucking pansy. You’ve been living in Boston way too long. Who says that? You should meet Lil’s friend. Don’t know what’s worse, turd or hoot. What do you think, baby?” Chase rubbed my leg and let out a deep chuckle. Yeah, he needed the release too. Damn, it felt good to laugh.

“You two are fucking
straaange
. I’m getting another beer, then I’m ordering Chinese!”

Asher left the terrace and stalked toward the kitchen, making Chase laugh harder. I freaking loved his laugh. I loved him. I loved this. Period.

I fingered the tears from under my eyes. Happy tears. Fun tears.

“You good, Blue?” He might have stopped laughing, but his eyes remained relaxed. Hopeful.

“Yeah ... I’m good.”
We’re good.

Chase was quiet for a second, but not in a brooding or mysterious way. His fiery gaze locked on mine. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Part of me wished he would lean over already and kiss me so I could show him just how good we were. Scratch that, all of me…

“Truth, baby ... I fucking
hate
Chinese food.”

Yep. Definitely pissed my pants this time.

Two six packs, half a bottle of pinot noir and a shitload of Moo Shu chicken later, we finally said goodnight to Ash. The three of us had a really great night.

“This was really fun. Asher’s awesome. I’m glad you have him.” I stared at his reflection in the mirror while he brushed his teeth. Shirtless. Mmm. My hands magnetically found their way around his waist, appreciating every hard ‘pack’ of his eight, not six- pack, until they settled on my favorite spot. Those damn V’s that dipped below the waistband of his sweatpants were my undoing. Every time. Note to self, sweats freaking rocked. Gave those low-rise linen pants a run for their money.

He rinsed and spit, then wiped his chiseled jaw with the hand towel. The entire time his hooded stare never wavered, cranking my internal furnace up ten degrees. A pool of heat flooded between my legs.

His voice was low. “First, you’re right, tonight was awesome. We definitely needed it. Second, though, doesn’t matter that he’s my best friend and I trust him with your life. You’ve got to know, the next time you’re looking at me like that, eye fucking me, baby, and you mention another man, be ready not to sleep. It will take at least a few days of hearing you scream my name while I’m making you come, for me to get over it.”

Ever heard of catching flies? My mouth fell open wide enough to catch a swarm. Feminists around the world would have been stroking out right now. Full-out brain bleeds. Until I met Chase, the thought of anyone talking to me like that repulsed me. He used “eye fucking” in a sentence, for god’s sake, and I liked it. Freaking loved it. The thought of anyone
but
Chase ever talking dirty, hell, ever touching me, repulsed me now.

Truth ... I loved how dominant Chase was in the bedroom. I never felt safer than I did in his strong arms. He was the most generous lover. Bossy as all hell, but he made me feel cherished and respected. Ironically, trusting him enough to take the lead gave me back my control. I felt sexy and alive when we were together ... less damaged.

Now was no exception. I tried to stay focused on those sexy greys melting a hole in my core, but my eyes darted to the growing erection stretching against his sweats instead.

Chase turned around and tucked my hair behind my ear. He leaned against the vanity. “See something you want?”

“Um?” I sucked at dirty talk. Those delicious butterflies that start in your stomach and work their way down,
way down
, were fluttering in circles. My insides were humming. Just the sound of his voice was like a triple shot of espresso to my sex. The rhythmic throbbing gave my heartbeat a run for its money.

“Touch me, Blue. Take what you want, baby. Take what’s
yours.
”

Mine. All mine.

All coherent thought went out the window. Thinking, period went out the window. Chase looked at me like a starved lion looking for his next meal. He covered my hands with his and dipped them below his waistband. The heat pulsing from his groin only enticed me to explore further.

“Mmm” escaped from my lips. I slid his sweats down his thighs, freeing his thick erection. I was salivating. Now who was the animal?

He wrapped his fingers around his hard shaft and squeezed. My mouth went dry; any and all moisture drenched my thong. “My girl likes to watch?” He stroked his cock, with more force than I
ever
imagined using. It was the hottest moment. Ever.

“Take off your clothes baby. Naked, now.” Chase fisted his hard length. The arousal in his eyes stole my breath; my sex throbbed. Throbbed. Holy freaking spasms. I could have come from just watching.

Chase growled, “Now. Clothes off, Blue.”

My frenzied state must have caused a motor delay from my brain, because I was still dressed. When my paralysis finally subsided, I stripped in record time. My clothes fell to a heap on the bathroom floor allowing Chase to roam my flushed body. My nipples peaked. They
could
have cut glass. Literally. They screamed for his warm tongue. I was completely bare and aroused in the middle of a well-lit bathroom, gawking at my hotter-than-hell boyfriend masturbating. I should have been embarrassed. But it was the furthest thing from my mind. Turned on was the understatement-of-the-year.

Sustaining his hungry stare, he inched over to the shower. His free hand opened the glass door and turned it on. It was a mini palace, the size of a walk-in closet with three marble walls and four deluxe brushed nickel showerheads that cascaded steaming water. It sounded like rain, real rain, reminding me of the night we fought outside my apartment. The night that changed everything.

His left hand tested the water temperature; his right continued pumping. The throbbing in my core matched his quickening strokes.

“Get in, Blue.
Show
me.”

I stepped in, and the warm water stung my overly sensitive skin. Chase’s sweats joined my pile of clothes before he stepped in behind me. His tan skin instantly glistened from the hot steam and spray coming from every direction. Instead of closing the distance between us, he leaned his bare back against the tile wall furthest from where I stood, and removed the only handheld showerhead. With a roll of his thumb, he switched the spray setting from a nebulizing rain mist to the massage setting.

“Show me.” He handed me the pulsating showerhead.

Oh.

No.

He didn’t expect...

He didn’t want me to...

Rewind
. I took the
I-wasn’t-embarrassed
thought back. Holy mortified. Chase saw it. He had to. Hell, he wasn’t legally blind. And we were talking head to toe rosacea of mortification.

“Baby, look at me. Don’t you fucking dare be embarrassed. Not with me. Not ever. You are so sexy. It’s just us. It’s always gonna be just us. Now show me.” His voice was deep and demanding. And damn, he continued to stroke himself at a relentless pace.

I swallowed hard against the constricting lump in my throat. Who was I kidding? This man could get me to do anything. For him. For us. Every sexual encounter that Chase dominated was always about us. And about my pleasure, above all else.

My breath was so rapid from the combination of arousal and embarrassment. I bordered on hyperventilation. My shaky hand took the brushed nickel nozzle. I leaned back against the opposite cold tile wall, welcoming the support, and mirrored Chase’s stance. We had a perfect view of each other. The other showerheads poured down gentle rain, perfectly angled away from our faces. Our gazes were locked.

With one hand I reached down between my legs, baring everything to him. As if I hadn’t already. He released the sexiest sound from somewhere deep in his throat. “Fuck, baby.”

He tightened the grip around his shaft and fisted faster. He was close. The thick veins bulged through his taut skin. I’d never seen him this hard. I loved the effect I had on him. I was his undoing. The same effect he had on me.

With the most intense ache ever, my core begged for release. The second the pulsing stream touched my core I was undoubtedly going to explode. I was on the brink and hadn’t even been touched.

Rewind. Again.
This, right now, is the hottest moment. Ever.

“Now.” Chase’s breathing was as erratic as my own. I lowered the nozzle and aimed at my sex. The first jet pulse sent my head flying back against the shower wall. The sensation almost too much. Too good. Almost. “Eyes, Blue. Look at me!” His voice was strong and commanding, yet I knew he needed my eyes as much as I needed his.

It took every ounce of strength to pull my head up and open my clenched lids. But I did. His gaze was
my
undoing, filled with lust. With love. The burning need was all consuming. I bucked against the pulsed water stream. Faster. Harder. The fire burned its way from my feet to my core, until I exploded. My entire body shook in wild abandon. I moaned in ecstasy.

I watched Chase pump one last time, his bicep flexed so hard from the sheer force of his grip, and then I heard that sexy growl again. He erupted. The moment was so unbelievably raw. I lost it, screaming his name, riding the most intense wave of beautiful pain as every primal muscle in my body contracted. I stood corrected for the last time. Hottest. Fucking. Moment. Ever.