The Chase (Page 48)

“Of course.”

I reach over and gently touch his shoulder, and he winces as if I’ve hurt him. And I realize I have, only not physically. I hadn’t known he’d liked me this much. I thought it was more of a flirtation on his part.

I pull the door handle and slide out of the Rover. I’ve barely taken a step before Hunter reverses out of the driveway. He drives off in a cloud of exhaust that burns my nostrils before floating away in the evening air.

I feel awful as I let myself into the house. I guess Hollis went out, because he’s not in the living room, and his bedroom is empty when I pass the open doorway. I ignore my own room and walk to the master. No light spills into the hallway from beneath the door, but I know Fitz is home because his car’s in the driveway. Unless he went somewhere with Hollis, but I guess I’ll find out.

I take a breath, gather my courage, and knock softly.

No response.

Crap. Maybe he did go out.

I hesitate, just for a second, before turning the knob and easing the door forward. The room is bathed in shadows. I squint in the darkness and make out a bulky figure on the bed. He’s not under the covers, but a fleece throw is haphazardly draped over his lower body.

“Fitz?”

The mattress shifts. “Summer?” he says sleepily.

“Yeah. I’m back.”

He makes a drowsy sound, a cross between a moan and a rumble. It’s so frigging cute. “How long was I asleep for?”

“Not long. It’s barely eight.”

“You left thirty minutes ago.” There’s a lot of confusion in that statement.

“Yes.”

“And now you’re back.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I close the door and then approach the foot of the bed. “I’m not sure yet. But…I have three questions for you.” I take a breath. “Could you please, just this once, try to answer them? I don’t expect a speech or anything. A yes or no would suffice.” I seek out his eyes in the shadows. “Please, Fitz?”

The throw rustles as he slides into a sitting position. “What do you want to know?” he asks gruffly.

With a shaky exhalation, I ask, “Do you still think I’m surface level?”

“No. I don’t.” Sheer sincerity.

I nod slowly. “Did you plan on running away after I sucked you off in the locker room?”

“No. I didn’t.” Genuine regret.

I swallow. “Are you as tired of fighting this attraction between us as I am?”

“Yes. I am.” Pure need.

My hands tremble as I grasp the hem of my dress and drag the soft wool up my body and over my head. This is crazy. But crazy is kind of my middle name.

Fitz makes a choked noise. “Summer?”

I ignore him. I keep my stockings on because the hardwood floor is damn cold. Underwear stays on too, but I unclasp my strapless bra and let it drop to the floor.

He gives a sharp intake of breath.

I climb onto the bed and slide under the throw with him.

“You’re not wearing a shirt,” he rasps.

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

I move closer so that our lips are inches apart. “Why do you think?”

24

Fitz

Summer is in my bed. Not the season. The girl. The beautiful, topless girl who just woke me up from a nap and told me she’s tired of her fighting her attraction to me.

I know there’s more we need to talk about. I all but begged her not to go out with Hunter earlier, and she’d still walked out the door. And I’m sure she has questions for me, questions I’ll undoubtedly have a difficult time answering. Not because I don’t want to, but because I’m scared to.

Summer scares me. She always has. She makes me want to open up, and that’s not a normal urge for me.

And speaking of urges, she unleashes a pretty basic one when she brings her fingertips to my lips and gently strokes them.

I inch closer, doing everything in my power not to look at her tits. Don’t get me wrong—I’m dying to. But I’m about to offer her an out before this gets out of hand, and if she takes it, I’d rather we stopped before I get too attached to those tits.

“Are you sure?” I whisper.

“One hundred percent.” A note of vulnerability enters her voice. “Are you?”

I can’t stop a laugh from flying out.

Summer’s entire body stiffens. “Are you kidd—”

“No,” I say quickly, “I’m not laughing at you. I promise. It’s just…am I sure? Fuck, Summer, I jerk off to the thought of you every single day. I can’t get you out of my head, and it only got worse after you gave me a blowjob. Now I jerk off twice a day.”

She responds by kissing me senseless.

Yeah, neither of us is going to stop this. It’s been a long time coming. A long fucking time.

Our clothes come off. I’m not sure how or when, but suddenly I’m naked and rolling on top of her, one leg sliding between both of hers, my lower body grinding against her softness. Her mouth is fused to mine, and she lifts her hips, shamelessly rubbing herself on my dick, straining to get closer.

My tongue prods the seam of her lips. She parts them on command, granting me access. When I swirl my tongue over hers, she gives a desperate moan that vibrates through my body. I chuckle and retreat, nibbling her full lower lip before peppering kisses along her jaw.

When I reach her neck, she slants her head and my mouth latches onto her flesh, sucking gently. She whimpers and rocks harder against me.

She tries to reach between us to grab my dick, but I gently swat her hands away. “Nuh-uh,” I murmur. “You’re always the one making me feel good. It’s my turn.”

And then I proceed to tease the living hell out of her. Forget drugs—you want a real high? Suck on Summer’s perfect tits. Kiss the surprisingly sensitive spot right below her belly button and watch her hips arch as her pussy seeks the heat of your cock.

My stubble scrapes the underside of one round, perky breast as I lick my way back up to toy with her nipples some more. I spend an obscene amount of time kissing and licking her, while she grabs my head to keep me in place. Ha. Like I’m going anywhere. I suck one nipple hard enough to elicit a loud moan from her lips, then flick my tongue in feather-light movements over each hard bud until Summer’s hips begin to thrash again.

“Fitz,” she begs. “No more teasing. I need…”

I slide down and bury my face between her legs. “This what you need?” I groan against her flesh.

Her ass shoots off the mattress.

Chuckling, I grasp her hips to steady her before teasing her with my tongue. Every long, lazy lick summons from her a whimper or a moan or a breathy sigh. When I push one finger inside, her inner muscles greedily clamp around it, and the top of my dick nearly blows off. Oh man, she’s amazingly tight. My brain goes hazy as I capture her clit in my mouth and suck on it, while my finger languidly moves inside her.

“Oh my God,” she says in a choked voice. “Don’t stop. I’m getting close—”

I stop.

“Why!” Summer wails.

I drag my tongue over my lips. Fuck, she’s all I can taste. “Not yet,” I say, sitting up.

“What gives you the right to decide that?” she huffs. “It’s my body, Colin!”

“It’s my tongue,” I say with a cheeky grin.

“I want to come.”

“Don’t we all.”

“Arrrgghh!” Her cry of frustration triggers my laughter. “I hate you, you know that?”

“No you don’t.”

“I’m going to die if I don’t have an orgasm.” Her tone is grave. “Like, actually die. And then you’ll have to explain to my father how my death could’ve been prevented if only you’d finished going down on me. My father, Fitz. Is that really what you want?”

I press my lips together to fight another wave of laughter. This girl is the best. The goddamn best. “Tell you what,” I say thickly. “Why don’t we compromise?” I open the bottom drawer of my nightstand and produce a condom. “We can both come, and nobody has to die.”

“Greatest idea ever.”

She watches as I rise on my knees to suit up. I gaze down at her, and my breath catches. Her cheeks are flushed, green eyes glittering with arousal, chest heaving with every labored breath. I’ve never seen a sexier sight.

Her breathing gets choppier. “Why aren’t you in me?”

Good question.

I lower my naked body over hers and slide into her in one achingly slow stroke. Oh fuck. It’s the best feeling in the world. It’s…a sense of belonging I’ve never felt before. And my chest expands in the strangest way when I look at Summer and see the way she’s looking at me in return.

I think she’s feeling it, too.

The bedsprings squeak when I start to move. Slow, shallow thrusts, filling her only to withdraw each time she tries to pull me in deeper.

“More,” she begs.

“No.”

My restraint impresses even me. I’m dying to quicken the tempo. Dying to find release. But I also never want this to end. I never want to lose this sensation of sheer rightness.

So I drag it out, my hips thrusting and releasing so carefully that beads of sweat break out on my forehead. When Summer tries to hook her legs around my ass, I reprimand her by biting her neck and withdrawing completely.