Breathe (Page 72)

I held on tighter.

“Jesus, f**k, so f**kin’ tight, tight and sweet,” he was groaning now through his grunts.

I loved that. So much, I ran my tongue up his neck.

He powered up harder, h*ps bucking, hand clenching my booty, other hand fisting in my hair and I heard as well as felt his deep, guttural groan against my skin.

Yeah. Seriously.

Sex… was… awesome.

His breathing settled and his hand let my hair go to slide down and curl around the back of my neck.

I held on tight and didn’t move a muscle.

“Town’s pretty, cute, sweet librarian wears sexy as all f**k underwear, sexier nighties and gets off on getting banged, back against the headboard.”

I blinked into his skin.

“What?”

Chace didn’t repeat himself.

Instead, he asked, “How long after I planted you against the headboard did it take you to come, baby? A second?”

I pulled my head back to stare at him.

He pulled his back to grin at me.

“Are you teasing me?” I asked, uncertain how I felt about this.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Though, I will point out, I’m teasin’ you but it’s the God’s honest truth. Got you up there, you went wild.”

I felt my eyes narrow and I snapped, “Well, it was hot.”

“Yeah it was. Got hotter when you went wild for that whole second before you came.”

I kept snapping but the only thing I could get out was, “Chace!”

“It’s true.”

“It wasn’t a second.”

“A second and a half,” he amended, slightly.

“It wasn’t a second and a half!” My voice was rising.

“That’s not true. Totally a second and a half, no more.”

“I’m uncertain how I feel about you teasing me when I’m naked,” I shot back.

His smile turned wicked. “Naked, seriously f**kin’ wet with my c**k still inside you, you mean.”

I felt my cheeks heat, I looked over his shoulder and muttered, “Whatever.”

“Jesus, wettest I’ve ever had along with the tightest,” he went on and my eyes cut back to him.

“Chace!”

He pressed me into the headboard, his face got close, his smile died and his eyes went intense. “What you got to give, Faye, here,” his h*ps pressed into mine, “clean, pure, all f**kin’ mine and that’s beautiful right there. But the rest, how wet you get, how tight you are, you goin’ wild for me like you did just now, baby. Fuck. You gotta know, coupled with the other, that’s beauty that’s off the charts.”

Hmm. I liked that.

A frak of a lot.

I bit my lip.

His eyes dropped to my mouth and his grin came back.

Then I was on my back in the bed with him on me, giving orders. “Gonna let you go. You’re gonna go clean up, come back and round two.”

My eyebrows shot up.

Round two?

We’d never gone a second round.

“Seriously?”

“Not on-duty tomorrow,” he reminded me.

“Well I am,” I reminded him. “I have to work.”

His grin stayed fixed and he reminded me right back, “Yeah, but your day starts at nine thirty. You can sleep in.”

This was true.

I held his eyes.

Then I whispered, “Round two?”

His eyes got intense and he whispered back, “Oh yeah.”

Oh.

Yeah.

“Okay,” I breathed, he bent his head to touch his mouth to mine then rolled off.

I skedaddled off the bed and to the bathroom to prepare for round two.

And yeah.

Seriously.

Sex was awesome.

* * * * *

Twelve fifteen that night

I laid in bed snuggled into Chace’s side, his arm under and around me, hand under my nightie drifting a short path up my spine and down to the top of my undies, my arm around his gut, cheek to his shoulder, top leg tangled with both of his.

We’d had almost a week of us being all the us we could be.

He worked, I worked. He ran or swam or did weight lifting, I went to the gym. We had dinner together. We walked to Bubba’s from my place after dinner once to have drinks. He watched sports, I read.

He did not, however, watch any of my shows and stood firm on this even when I semi-begged him to give Supernatural a go telling him Dean Winchester was most assuredly his type of guy. Although I gave up, I decided next week I’d try again. Dean and Sam could lapse into heartfelt, man conversations and there were demons and ghosts and a variety of apocalyptic storylines. But still, I figured Chace would get into it mostly because they drove a kickass Impala. And all men (or most men and the men who were all man were most of them) liked cars.

Anyway, I had last week’s episode taped. Since I was spending all my time with Chace, if he didn’t watch it with me, when was I going to get my dose of Dean and Sam?

The sex was regular (after the ban, morning and night!) and got better and better (deliriously so). As Chace guided it, I became more confident and we got to know each other better, in bed and out.

It had been another wonderful week.

Brilliant. Fabulous. Amazing.

The only pall was Malachi.

He hadn’t shown all week and daily I asked for reports from Chace about what Deck was uncovering.

Deck, so far, had found nothing.

Chace had also come up with zip. This included him expanding his search by contacting every school in the county and every surrounding county to see if a boy called Malachi was enrolled.

Nothing.

“Kid’s a ghost,” Chace had muttered and his tone eloquently underlined he didn’t feel this was good.

I didn’t either. How could he not be on the register of any school in five counties?

“I’m worried about Malachi,” I muttered into the dark silence and Chace’s hand stopped drifting and his arm curled tight around me.

“I know, baby,” he whispered.

“This amount of time, he’s running out of food.”

“Deck’ll find him.”

I lifted up and looked down at him in the dark. “Chace –”

His other arm reached across his body and I felt his hand cup my cheek.

“Faye, baby, Deck’ll find him. Nothin’ we can do. Not right now. You need to sleep. You got work tomorrow. Tomorrow night, we got your family. And Deck’s stymied. He doesn’t like to be stymied. Not ever but definitely not by a nine year old kid. This was a favor he was doin’ for me. Now it’s his mission. He won’t give up, Faye, and he’ll find him.”