Beautifully Awake

“Let it go, baby, come. Now.”

On command, I arched back, and this time I screamed his name. It violently ripped through me; this orgasm more intense that the first. With two more thrusts, Chase’s body shuddered against mine, and he groaned what sounded like my name. Deep inside I felt his final jerks. He stilled and tucked me tightly against his sweat-beaded chest. The intimacy of his embrace matched the entire experience. Perfect.

“You think you can stand?”

My legs were a wobbly mess, but I nodded confidently anyway. He had been holding me with such ease since we walked through the door.

He gently lowered me down, never letting go of my waist, and quickly dealt with the condom.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He pulled his pants up with one hand and then swooped me into his arms effortlessly, like I belonged there.

“Down the hall on the right.” I snuggled into the crook of his arm.

“I know, baby. This will be my second time putting you to bed.” He grinned cockily.

“Chase, we still need to talk.” The week-long silent treatment still loomed.

“We will.” He kissed the tip of my nose. I couldn’t help but smile. I had never seen Chase like this. Relaxed. Content. Sated. His gorgeous eyes still held heaviness but Dr. Intensity was gone, at least for now. And I liked it. I liked Dr. Sexy. Holy shit, did I.

8 First do not harm

My small apartment was all of two and a half rooms. It took Chase’s long legs seconds to reach my bedroom, or should I say, nook. Like the entrance hallway, the same long windows flanked the ten-foot walls. Flowing silk pewter draperies secured my privacy but left the top perimeter of glass bare, allowing natural light to filter in.

I fell in love with the space the day I moved in, but never appreciated it more than I did watching Chase lower me onto my bed. His bare chest and face was illuminated by the soft glow of the night sky. He was dangerously breathtaking.

“Baby, I need to move the car. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” He gently lifted the sheet over my naked, sated body and palmed my cheek. He ran the pad of his thumb softly across my bottom lip. Mmm. Definitely not moving. Ever.

“Okay.”

Chase turned and quickly disappeared into the darkness beyond my nook. I heard him grab what I could only assume was the remnants of his shirt off the floor, followed by the click of the door. He was gone less than a minute before reality dawned on me. The only reason to re-park the car was if he was planning on staying ... the night ... with me. A pang pinched my side and my stomach flipped.

I just got mind-blowingly fucked against a wall and the thought of Dr. Orgasm spending the night with me made me suddenly nervous. Really, Lil? Thinking to yourself in third person was never a good sign, so I abruptly ended my lunacy and raced to the bathroom, hoping to get cleaned up before Chase got back. Time was tight.

As dreamy as the “don’t move” plan sounded, my post-sex reality was a far cry from all my romance novels. It had been a really long time, not that I could ever compare tonight to any experience I had in the past, but I vaguely remembered the “freshly-fucked” look not being my best. My mascara-smudged face screamed anything but sexy. Not to mention my thighs felt like they were stuck together with Elmer’s glue. Thank god for Sierra, her pre-wedding laser hair removal obsession totally worked out in my favor.

I washed up and had just enough time to tug on a clean tank and thong and then climbed back into bed. I heard his footsteps. Excitement and relief washed through me. A small part of me feared he might have changed his mind, but my insecurity vanished the second his chiseled face appeared from the darkness.

His shirt hung open. He folded his arms across his chest and casually leaned against the wall, studying me like the MRI images he methodically memorized before each surgery.

“You moved?” His lips parted into a half grin, and he shook his head disapprovingly.

“You took too long.”

“You put clothes on.”

“You might need some new clothes.” I smiled.

“You’re fucking beautiful.”

Speechless.

Chase dropped his arms, pushing the world’s now-sexiest shirt back to the floor. Before I formed a coherent thought after his last statement paralyzed me, he stripped. Naked. Effortlessly comfortable in his own skin. He stood there torturing me with his burning gaze. This man deserved his limitless confidence. His body was a work of erotic art. If there was a museum of hot bodies, he’d be the featured exhibit. I would have bought a lifetime membership.

Two strides later, the mattress dipped beside me to accommodate all of him. I felt so small in my own bed, so fragile. Strangely enough, I’d also never felt so safe.

Lying on his side he propped his head with his elbow, our faces inches apart. His hooded gaze was piercing. He began to stroke my arm, shoulder to elbow. His seductive tickle was blissful torture. Pure intimacy.

His rhythmic movement exposed the inked art that cascaded down the side of his ribs.

I’d never had an opinion either way when it came to tattoos. Plenty of the guys back home had them. Some were more appealing than others. It was almost a high school right of passage in my town. But what always fascinated me was not why people got them, but what they chose. The motivation behind the actual mark. Finding an image significant enough to warrant a permanent brand.

Chase’s tattoo was striking and beyond hot. Masculine, yet sensual. The sharp symbols were the color of midnight, a hard contrast to his bronzed skin. Each fine line sliced the contour of his chiseled physique. I longed to run my mouth down each character.

Without thought, I traced his etching. “What does it say?”

He didn’t respond. Instead he lifted my fitted tank over my head and returned to his tender ministrations. His focus adjusted to the edge of my sensitive breast.

“I thought we were going to talk.” My voice was breathless.

“We are talking. But don’t ask me not to touch you.” No objection there. His thumb brushed my taut nipple.

“Mmm.” My back arched, and my pulse raced in response. Every nerve in my body was ready to abandon the talking plan in favor of the fondling plan when Chase read my mind.

“Talk, baby. I can do both.”

“What happened last week? After we, um, kissed. You were ... different?”

“I fucked up. Period. I have no intention of letting it happen again.” He stroked my cheek and brushed his soft lips over mine. Intensity plagued his eyes again. “Do you trust me, Blue?”

Trust me. It was impossible he knew the enormity of what he asked. I spent years struggling to trust myself again. Suddenly I was torn. As much as I wanted an answer for his Jekyll and Hyde behavior, I’d rather not taint this tantalizing moment with my issues.

“Sorry handsome, I don’t trust that easily. You’ve got to work for it.” I flashed a cheeky smile hoping to lighten the mood and shut down Dr. Intensity for now.

“What did you have in mind?”

Ahh. Hello, Dr. Playful.

“Um. You didn’t answer my question, your tattoo. What does it mean?”

His answer was matter of fact. “First do no harm.”

“Are these Chinese or Japanese characters?” My fingertip memorized his ink.

“I do believe it’s my turn, but if you must know it’s neither. They are Romaji characters.