In Deep: Chase & Emma (All In Book 1) (17 page)

“You’re mine,
Emma,” I whispered, feeling her start to shudder. “Tell me.”

“I’m yours, Chase,”
she instantly responded, no hesitation, all eager and giving.

“Mine,” I growled,
thrusting my fingers in her, pressing directly on her swollen clit,
demanding her orgasm. She came, full and sweet, crying out into the
darkness, my name on her lips.

Together, we slept. And
we only woke up once. I’d fallen asleep with my hand still nestled
between her legs. At some point in the middle of the night, things
started up again. It might have been her moving against my hand,
pressing against me, or it might have been my fingers circling,
teasing out her pleasure. However it started, we both awakened to
find her well on her way to another orgasm.

“One more, Emma,” I
whispered to her in the darkness. “One more for me, baby.”

And she gave it to me,
so slick and warm, shuddering against me and almost sobbing it felt
so good. I nuzzled into her.

“That’s it, Emma.
You come so nice.” She shuddered one last time, my words coaxing
even more pleasure out of her. And with a sigh, we both fell again
into a deep, peaceful sleep.

§

“Carter! Dial it
back!” I could hear the voice of one of my coaches barking at me
poolside. I could even see him hustling along with his ever-present
clipboard, flapping his arm along with his jaw. I got his meaning.
But what he didn’t understand was that I was dialing it back.

My pace felt
effortless. I’d never felt like such a rocket in the water, as if I
could swim forever. I didn’t know how to explain it, but I guess
that had been the plan all along, after years of training to reach
peak physical conditioning at this exact moment. All the puzzle
pieces were falling into place and I felt like Superman. Or Aquaman,
I guessed, that would be a more appropriate reference.

Somehow, though, I felt
like Emma had something to do with it, too. Being with her, it felt
just as effortless, like we clicked into place. I’d never
experienced that before. We still didn’t know each other all that
well, and I knew I was at least partially if not fully to blame for
that. I kept my cards close to my chest. But time would fix that.
Being with her felt so right. My mind felt more at ease, more
focused, less restless, even as she now occupied space in my mind.

Funny, I’d always
thought of relationships as distractions. Now that I’d met someone
amazing, it didn’t feel like it was taking me off course at all. It
felt like I was truly finding it for the first time.

“Chase! Out of the
water!” My head couch whacked me over the head with a rolled up
piece of paper. His way of signaling he needed a one-on-one.

Over to the side, he
grilled me. Was I trying to prove something? What kind of stunt was I
trying to pull, going at it full-throttle the week before the games?

“Coach, I swear, I’m
at around 60 percent.”

He looked at me like
maybe I’d grown another head. And then he noticed something.
“You’re not even breathing hard.”

I nodded in agreement.
See, I was telling the truth! “I’m not messing with you. I’m
dialed way back.”

And then coach did
something I hadn’t seen that often in the last few years I’d been
working with him. He looked at me and he smiled.

Giving me a light smack
on the arm, he said, “I think next week’s going to be a good
week.”

“I think so, too.”
I was seeing gold dance before my eyes. And from the look in his, he
was seeing the same thing.

Satisfied that I was,
indeed, experiencing that famed surge in performance all athletes
sought before a crucial competition, he quit yelling at me and
instead pulled out my free relay team members for a strategy session.
So much strategy in Atlanta, so many meetings. Team-building, dry
land stretching sessions, coach was even making us do yoga that
afternoon, all part of his integrated mind/body philosophy.

The good part about our
session in the afternoon was Emma and a few other of the physical
therapists would be joining us. The bad part was that Emma would be
near me and I wouldn’t be able to touch her.

We were keeping things
private, for now. I knew we weren’t doing anything wrong. We were
two consenting adults who happened to meet each other in a
professional context. That happened every day. And I was glad that
she agreed, what we had between us couldn’t be denied.

But we both knew we
couldn’t walk around the hotel holding hands and making out in
stairwells like it was high school. There was a chance she’d be
fired if management found out. I doubted it would happen, even though
it was clearly written into her contract—termination at any point
for unprofessional conduct. But I also knew I was a highly prized
asset to the team. It didn’t give me impunity, but they would at
least think twice about sending away one of the most crucial members
of my crew. Which was why I’d felt comfortable walking around
Atlanta holding hands with her last night.

But, when we were in a
room with our teammates, it made sense to keep it on the down low.
Which meant that during our yoga session, Emma stood on the other
side of the room. Probably smart. If she’d stood next to me I
couldn’t have resisted touching her.

But that also meant
that a prat like Chris could sit right next to her and flirt his ass
off. It was hard enough for me to balance in Eagle pose, wrapping one
leg around the other with my arms intertwined and raised in prayer
position. When I was pissed off about Chris finding bullshit excuses
to touch her and then seeing her laugh at his stupid wisecracks? No,
I was not one with my inner eagle.

I had another goddamned
interview after yoga, but I had something I had to do first. I let
Emma leave the room and head down the hallway, still chatting with
Chris, the blond Ken doll. The hall happened to lead to a few rooms
used for physical therapy. I stopped in front of one of them and made
sure it was unlocked.

“Emma, could I talk
to you for a second?”

She turned around at my
voice and excused herself. Chris gave me a look like he thought I was
a possessive fucker. Yeah, you got that right. I met his stare with
one of my own.

I closed the door
behind us and folded Emma into my arms, crushing my lips to hers. My
match lit her flame and she threw herself at me, arms flung around my
neck, legs wrapped around my waist, climbing me like a tree. Clumsy,
I grabbed her ass and stumbled back into the door, drunk on our
combined lust.

She ground against me,
a low moan in her throat, her hand working its way down to my cock,
pressing hard against my athletic shorts.

“Chase, I know we
said…” She lunged in to kiss me again, her tongue licking,
seeking mine, until she could manage to break away again. “I know
we said we’d wait. But I don’t think I can.”

“Fuck,” I groaned,
knocking my head against the metal door with a thud. Now she decided,
right when I had to leave for an interview. I should have known a
stolen kiss with Emma could never just be a stolen kiss. “I have to
go talk to a reporter.”

“No!” she pouted,
kissing my neck, her hand squeezing my shaft. “I want you.”

“Emma.” I put her
down on the counter. “Now you have to wait.” I held up my finger
teasing her like I was her teacher and she was in trouble. “And you
need to be good while you wait. Can you do that?”

She pouted again, my
favorite look, at least when what she was frustrated about was not
getting my cock inside of her. I couldn’t resist. I took her wrists
in my hand and held them behind her back, just teasing, in a light
grip, not trying to hurt her, just stoke her passion.

“I know it’s hard
to wait,” I told her as she looked up at me, clearly both confused
and aroused. Why was I holding her wrists behind her back? Because
she was so fun to play with. “I want you to do something while you
wait. Can you do something for me?”

She looked up at me
with wide eyes and nodded. Eager to please and she didn’t even know
what I was going to ask her to do. My cock throbbed. She needed a
reward for being so compliant. As I held her wrists in one hand, I
slipped my thumb between her legs, right up at the seam of her yoga
pants, stroking her pussy. She groaned and opened her legs wider.

“Are you wet, baby?”

“Yes,” she
admitted. That I had to feel for myself. I slipped my hand down her
waistband, under her panties and slid my finger right where she
wanted it. Hot, slick heaven.

“So wet,” I
whispered, stroking her. She had her eyes half-closed, undulating her
hips as I slowly thrust my finger. “Here’s what I want you to do
for me,” I spoke to her quietly, just between us. “I want you to
wait up in the hotel room. And while you’re waiting, I want you to
touch yourself and think about how good I’m going to fuck you.”

She gasped, her lips
parting, and I could feel her pussy grow even wetter.

“Are you excited
about getting fucked?” I growled, low and wicked.

“Yes,” she moaned,
biting her lower lip.

“Good.” I gave her
a nice stroke for her honesty, circling her swollen, throbbing clit.
“But Emma, listen to me.” She opened her eyes and looked up into
mine. “Don’t come. Do you understand?”

There was that pout
again. She was already close. I could feel how she needed to come
right now.

“You come for me when
I fuck you,” I insisted, stern and serious. “Got it?”

“Y-yes,” she
stammered, surprised and aroused by my command.

I withdrew my hand,
re-arranged her yoga pants, and licked her sweet juices from my
fingers while she watched, rapt.

“You taste so good,”
I murmured, enchanted with her. I’d never get enough. I stepped
toward the door, wanting to get this interview over with.

“And Emma?”

“Yes?” God I loved
the sight of her so flushed and aroused, her nipples standing hard
against her tight top.

“Stay away from
Chris.”

“Chris who?” she
asked, making me smile as I left the room.

§

When I finally finished
up and got back to the hotel room, the minx had the massage table
out. I was so wound up I wanted to take her right there against the
wall, even if it was our first time together. I didn’t think I
could wait another minute, never mind cooling my jets through an
entire physical therapy session with her hands all over me.

“Hop up,” she
instructed me, patting the table.

“Are you serious?”
She couldn’t be.

“Dead serious.” She
put her hands on her hips. “I will not let this thing between us
get in the way of your performance.”

“Are you concerned
about my performance?” I took a step closer, definitely not
thinking about the pool.

That got a smile from
her. But she tapped that table again. “You are not getting to work
on me until I’ve worked on your shoulder, back and hamstring.”

“Oh, I’m going to
work on you,” I warned her, giving in. For now. She was right, I
did feel tight in my back. Coach had instructed each and every one of
us to prioritize stretching and therapy work heading into the games.
Damn it, why did Emma have to be so good at her job?

She was so good. She
worked every inch of me, with warm oil getting into every sore spot,
pressing into and releasing all my tension even as a different kind
of tension built. When she got me onto my back and worked my
shoulder, damn if she didn’t give me more contact than usual. A
brush with her breast, lingering fingers across my pecs. And down at
my quad, she stroked and rubbed, looking at my cock the whole time as
it grew larger and harder with every touch.

She really had it
coming to her. The whole time she’d been working on me, I’d been
plotting my revenge. The second she was done, I nearly leapt up.

“Now it’s my turn,”
I declared with a predatory gleam in my eyes. “Lie down.”

She looked at me, eyes
wide. And then did as I said.

Emma

“Now I’m going to
show you what you’ve been putting me through,” Chase warned me,
stern.

I shivered with
anticipation. He had me up on the table, lying on my front.
Completely naked. He’d stripped me down quick, my shorts and
athletic top off before I knew what was happening. Now I lay there
with nowhere to hide, completely at his mercy.

I heard him flip open
the top of the bottle of massage oil, rubbing his palms together. How
many times had I done exactly that with clients? The sound had never
turned me on before. But now I lay there wiggling, throbbing between
my legs, barely able to wait to feel his hands on me.

He wanted me like that.
He loved making me crazy, and he was so good at it, so driven and
relentless. I’d had more orgasms in the past week than I had in
some years of my life. Maybe that was also a statement on the sadness
of my sex life in the past, but I was an upbeat type of a person. I
didn’t like dwelling on the negative of what came before,
especially when the promise of the present was so great.

He started at the
center of my back, giving me soft strokes, working his way out in
circles. The man was good with his hands. But as much as I was
enjoying the traditional massage, my body hummed with eager arousal.
We’d talked about having sex tonight. I was the living embodiment
of the Marvin Gaye song, every inch of me singing “Let’s Get It
On!” He’d told me to touch myself. The filthy mouth on that man,
how I loved listening to it as much as kissing it, not to mention
feeling how he could kiss me. I was good with instructions. I’d
always been a good student.

I’d had myself a nice
afternoon, headed out for a run, phoned my parents, read through our
blog a bit. I’d called Tori, too. She and I hadn’t talked in a
few days. I wanted to hear about Rio. She was keeping a steady stream
of chatter going on the blog and seemed to be having the time of her
life, as usual, but I wanted to hear it straight from her. But she
didn’t pick up so I had to leave a message.