Finding Allie (13 page)

I reach down and tug his t-shirt out of the waistband of his pants and glide my scraped palms against the soft, damp heat of his abs. A thin sprinkling of hair on his chest leads down to a thicker trail below his waistline. I close my eyes and explore as Chase follows my lead and soon I feel his hot, rough palms on my naked back.

“Oh, Allie, I want you so much,” he says. “I was so worried about you out there on the road. So afraid something had gone really wrong. Watching you fall was like watching my heart slide out of my chest and topple off a cliff.”

He moves his hand to my chest, cupping my breast around my bra. A wild heat fills me between my legs, down to my toes and up to my ears. My own kiss becomes more forceful, the craving to touch all of him at the same time so strong it’s going to kill me. I feel alive and in danger all at once, the urgency in me to connect with him so strong it’s like I can’t get enough oxygen. Chase is my oxygen, and I just can’t breathe right now.

I need so much more than I can get, and what I can get is limited by...by what?

Our clothes? Time? Inhibitions?

Fear?

Nothing’s holding me back right now from making love with this man whose attraction to me I can’t explain. Not one thing, except my own mind. I’m the obstacle right here, right now. Not Jeff, not Galt, not privacy, not money.

Me.

Chase is looking at me and kissing me and touching me like
he
knows exactly what he wants.

I want the same. Giving myself to him, being touched and loved and tasted and explored is how I find another part of myself, right? Not that I’m not whole as is. The Allie I am is enough.

But the Allie I could become is even greater. Chase holds the key to that new puzzle piece. I need to give in order to get.

“I want you so bad, Allie,” Chase says in my ear as he licks it, his tongue teasing me and making my ears rush with a sound like violins playing the same, low note. My body floods with arousal. My brain turns into a fireball.

“I want you too, Chase,” I whisper.  

He kisses me and reaches behind me, his fingers on the hooks of my bra.

“Is this okay?” He’s asking permission, and I smile. It’s so sweet, a strange feeling in the middle of something so heated.

“Please,” I beg him. “Please do.”

With two twists my breasts are free and he sits up, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt and stripping it over his head, the full breadth of his chest and arm muscles on display for me like a work of art.

Oh, my God.

He’s huge. His chest is like something out of the movies, like a superhero with deeply-grooved pecs, and a six pack set of abs that is more like an eight pack. I can see small scars on his belly and wonder what they are, but I don’t ask.

There is a huge tattoo of a dragon on one side of his chest, creeping up to his shoulder. It’s intricate and rich, made with great care. My eyes flit to his other shoulder, where there’s another one. I want to reach out and touch the ink, trace it with my fingers. My tongue.

If I open my mouth, drool will fall out.

“Your turn,” he whispers, eyes full of sex.

“My turn to what?” I ask, stupid with desire.

He laughs and his face changes from serious to playful. “Your turn to strip.”

I reach down and make a yelping sound, My elbows. I can’t.

My body goes numb with self-consciousness. “I can’t.”

He makes a sympathetic face and pulls back, breaking our touch. “I get it. It’s okay. You’re scared and this is a lot. You say ‘no,’ Allie, and I’ll listen. Always. You’re in control here. I won’t ever take advantage of you.”

“No! No, no—I mean, yes! YES!”

His eyebrows go up. “I don’t know what the hell any of that just meant, Allie,” he says with a chuckle.

“It means,” I say, taking one hand and reaching out for that line of hair that starts at his breastbone and thickens down at his waist. My finger draws a lazy line down, down, down until his breath hitches, “that my elbows are too injured to pull my own shirt off.”

Our eyes lock.

“You’re going to have to do it for me, Chase.”

His chest starts to move faster, breath coming out in a rugged, rough kind of way that only a man can breathe. Heat is pouring off him, and not the kind of late-summer broil that you get inside a shack with no air conditioning. The tiny little fan near the window is going
creak creak creak
as it tries to move the air and all I can think is,
Why aren’t you touching me, Chase?
 

“Whatever you want, Allie. I’m here to make you happy.”

Chase leans forward and helps me sit up more, then pulls the hem of my shirt out for me, sliding the thin fabric up. My loose bra dangles like it’s drunk, willy-nilly resting on my breasts. He gently slides that off me, too, and now my nude chest is revealed to him.

I am naked from the waist up for the first time in my life for a man.

His eyes are glowing.

“You’re perfect. Just so fucking perfect, Allie. I knew you were beautiful, but this...this is like you’re—” He breaks his words to swallow, and reaches out to cup one breast, his thumb reaching up to stroke the nipple.

Heat pools between my legs. My breathing stops.

“You’re like a work of art, right in my hands.” And with that, he reaches forward and pulls me into an embrace, a deep kiss pinning me to him. The thin, wiriness of the hair on his chest tickles my nipples. His skin is so soft, yet the hair is so raspy, and my body shivers with his heat and with how unfamiliar all these sensations are, all happening at once. 

It’s a tsunami of sensation.

His hands roam in the thin space between us, touching my breasts, making me tighten and open all at once. Different muscles have different reactions to his body, his mouth, his hands, and I fumble to reciprocate. What am I supposed to do? I kiss him back, I touch his shoulders, but it’s like my brain just can’t multitask like this.

I can’t receive pleasure and give pleasure at the same time. I’m confused and aroused and pulsing with so much heat. So much fire.

All of it ready to burn with Chase, ignited by joining our bodies together.

But first, I need to figure out what the heck I’m supposed to do.

He pulls back and dips his head down, my hand burying itself in those sandy blonde waves. He takes my nipple in his mouth and suckles it, tongue flicking the tip. A desperate sound comes out of the back of my throat.

He does it again to my other breast, and my grip on his hair tightens. This feels so good, so mind-blowingly good. The wind whips through the room suddenly and I look around. A light grey fills the room, the faded blue quilt that covers the bed now turned grey, the navy pillowcases black. The room is so simple, and in the distance I can hear nothing but the wind scraping against the rocks, the ground, the sky. 

It’s the same sound I hear when he kisses me and the stubble on his chin slides against my skin.

He reaches up and I yelp. He’s accidentally touched a scrape on me. Chase freezes.

“Oh, Allie, I’m so sorry,” he says in a pained voice. The eight pack of abs moves like it’s rolling, his breathing coming quick. His hand slides down my collarbone, over one breast, just touching. Feeling. He’s not shy, unafraid to look me in the eye.

I’m completely stunned. I had no idea being intimate with someone could feel so good. Marissa told me right before she left for Los Angeles a few years ago that sex with boys was good until you actually have intercourse. Then it hurts the first few times, and after that it’s okay.

Okay?
Okay?
If just being touched like this feels so amazing, then actually making love must be like discovering another planet or winning the lottery.

Or being kissed so sweetly, like Chase is doing to me right now. He reaches for my waistband and undoes the button to my jeans. I’m glad. I don’t think I can do it. 

And then he slides my pants over my hips.

“May I?” he asks.

I nod. The feeling as my jeans strip off is like being born again. Now I’m in bed with panties and nothing else on. A sharp intake of air as Chase’s eyes take me in.

“This isn’t fair.”

“What?”

“We’re not equal.” And with that, Chase stands and strips down to nothing.

He’s completely nude.

My jaw literally drops open and my split lip hurts, but I don’t care.

He’s a golden god. A Greek statue in front of me, all hard lines and perfect power. I can see his tattoos now, though the shadows make them seem like something dancing on his skin. I peer closer, wanting to know his body. To memorize those tats. To understand all of him. Immerse myself in nothing but Chase’s skin.  

Chase climbs back into the bed with me. His fingers play at the waistband of my panties. My whole body is one, big pulse.

“Your pain. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

His words pull me out of my mind. “My pain isn’t your fault,” I say with a confused laugh. “It’s all Jeff’s fault. And gravity. Gravity sucks, too.” He lets out a soft laugh. 

“You can’t hurt me. All you can do is help me get away from Jeff right now, Chase.”

He’s silent. I breathe in and out, needing the air.

“I don’t want you to lose your virginity to me because you’re angry at someone else. I want you to give me this gift because you fall in love with me.”

Chase pulls back and strokes my face, his hand smoothing my hair over my jaw.

I’m speechless.

“And when you’re ready, I’ll be here, Allie. For everything. Especially the falling in love part.”

I smile. “Is there normally this much talking during sex?”

He laughs and touches my thigh. “That’s the great thing about sex. You get to make it up as you go along.”

“No, I mean...” I sigh. “In the movies, and in books, it seems like sex is this great, sweeping, amazing, romantic scene that unrolls naturally. People kiss, they touch, then they...you know.”

His eyes roam over my body. “Oh, yeah. I know.”

I giggle. “And it’s seamless. No one bumps another person’s bandaged knee, so one ever makes a weird noise. Even two virgins seem to know exactly what they’re doing. He never tells her where to put her hands and she never tells him if something feels good.”

His head tilts as he studies me. He’s really listening. “We’re not
two
virgins having sex, Allie.”

I jolt. That’s right. He wouldn’t be a virgin too, would he? Of course not. I mean, I know he’s not one, but hearing him say it is really striking.

“Then, when
you’ve
had sex before...was there this much talking?”

A huge grin splits his face as he watches me with those catlike eyes. “You are the most fascinating girl I’ve ever been with.”

“Huh?”

“No other girl would ever talk about the other girls I’ve slept with while being naked in my bed.”

He has a point. A very good one, at that.

I shrug. “I’m not threatened by them. I’m the one who’s here. Now. Naked with you.”

His turn to freeze, the moonlight peeking in now and lighting up the glistening curls on his legs, the sheen of sweat making the hair lie against his skin in sweaty whorls.

“Yes, you are.”

“So sex isn’t just
wham bam thank you ma’am
?” 

“Only if the man is really, really bad, Allie.” He laughs. “And I’m never,
ever
bad in bed.”

I suck in a long, slow stream of air as his hand caresses my breast. “No. No, I’d imagine you’re not.”

“You can imagine a lot of things. Or you can live them.” His mouth replaces his hand and I turn to him, our bodies pressing against each other from foot to head, trying so hard to touch everywhere we can as his head remains dipped down against my chest. The feel of his sucking and biting is like an electric line directly to my red nub, which is throbbing for his touch.

The return of his touch.

He begins to kiss my ribs, moving his mouth steadily lower on my belly, down down down to oh my God.

I sit up and gasp. “What are you doing?”

He stays right where he is and wiggles his hands between my knees, careful not to touch my wounds. “I want to taste you, Allie.”

Chapter Sixteen

“Taste me?” I squeak. I’ve heard about guys going down, but Marissa says they don’t like it. Says men only do it to get their girlfriends to reciprocate.

I look at Chase’s huge erection and wonder if my mouth would fit. Curiosity gets the better of me and now my mind is filled with the image of putting my tongue on his hardness.

He’s pushing my thighs apart, one finger touching the tender outer lips and I arch, the sensation so great I think I might turn into dust if he puts his mouth there.

“Just say stop if you don’t want it, Allie.”

“Am I—?” I try to ask, the question hard to form. “Is it wrong to—?” I try again.

He stops and looks up at me, resting his cheek on my soft inner thigh. “You can ask me anything you want.”

“Are you sure you want to do this? Because I’ve heard guys don’t like it.”

“Where’d you hear
that
from?” Chase asks with a laugh, his fingers playing with my wetness. One finger slowly makes its way inside me and I feel my muscles grip it, my voice suddenly gone.

He pulls the finger out, then slowly slides it back in. “I like doing that,” he says. “Do you like it when I do that?”

“Yes,” I hiss.

“And I like doing this,” he says as he spreads my thighs and plants a kiss in the springy curls. “And this,” he adds as his fingers open me up and his mouth goes right on my throbbing pulse.

His tongue strokes up and I fly, fly so high I need to anchor myself by grabbing his hair.

The sudden withdrawal of his tongue almost makes me cry. He looks up at me with a half grin, his face soft with lust.

“But most of all, Allie, I love to do this.”

And then he does it again. And again. And again until I am frantic, bucking against his mouth and calling out his name until the world goes white and every blood vessel in my body feels like it cracked in half and fell off the earth.

When the last shudder leaves my limp body he crawls up me, like a man who has just taken on a challenge and won, and he kisses me. The taste of my own juices feels erotically taboo and yet perfectly natural at the same time.