In Deep: Chase & Emma (All In Book 1) (11 page)

“And I’m supposed
to be a professional.”

Was that a wobble in
her voice? No, this wasn’t supposed to be fraught with tension.
What was happening between us was good. Wasn’t it?

“You’re all
stressed out,” I stated the obvious. “I know, why don’t you let
me massage you for a change?”

“What?”

I shifted my chair
closer and took her foot in my hand. “Your calf muscle gets sore
sometimes, right? From an old injury?”

“Sometimes.” She
bit her lip, unsure, looking at where I held her foot.

“You lie back and
relax and let me work that out.” I had none of the training she
did, but I’d had enough people work on my muscles to pick up a
thing or two. Plus, touching Emma had an intoxicating power, working
a spell on me as I massaged and stroked my way up, then down her
lower leg. She leaned back in the chair. With those dark sunglasses I
couldn’t tell if she was watching, but I could feel her awareness.
The energy that passed between us, the erotic charge as I moved my
hands over her smooth skin.

She squirmed a bit in
her chair, not a lot but enough. She liked how it felt. I looked up,
giving her a low smile. “That feel good?”

“Mmmm.” The soft
moan from her slightly parted lips, that was all the encouragement I
needed. I took her other leg in my hands and started massaging it as
well. We had the pool to ourselves. I’d do my best to keep things
PG, at least to any passing eyes that happened to catch a glimpse.
But as for her personal experience? I wanted that to be as X-rated as
possible.

“You don’t have to
do this,” she protested. But she didn’t draw her legs away.

“Let me,” I coaxed
her, my hands kneading, caressing, stroking. “You spend all your
time making other people feel good. Who does that for you?”

She didn’t have an
answer. I could answer for her. I was going to make her feel good, so
good she would have a hard time remembering her own name. I couldn’t
wait to see her engulfed by an orgasm, clutching and quivering,
flushed and calling out. Maybe not right there full-on poolside, but
I could give her a good preview of coming attractions.

“That’s, wow,”
she murmured in appreciation as I stroked. “But I’m not…” She
trailed off, losing her speech to a wave of pleasure. I liked the
look on her. I planned to see it often. After regaining her train of
thought, she protested again, “I’m not the one about to compete
in the Olympics.”

“Relax, Emma, this
feels good to me, too. And I’m not going to see you for the next
three days. I’m going to miss you.”

She paused. “I’m
going to miss you too,” she admitted, quietly. “But maybe the
time apart will be good?”

“Good?” What was
good about not seeing each other? Nothing I could think of.

“It’ll give us a
few days to get our heads screwed on straight,” she continued.
“This is…you know this isn’t a good idea.”

“Here, let me get
your shoulders and back.” I stood and moved over to her chair. We
needed more touching and less worrying. She sat up, looking
surprised, and I climbed right in behind her, my thighs straddling
her on either side. Before she could express any more reservations, I
started in on her shoulders, rubbing and kneading where I knew she
felt tense. There, now I knew that had to feel good.

“Oh,” she exhaled,
tension flowing out of her as I pressed and massaged. She had her
hair up in a ponytail, leaving her neck exposed for my fingers to
explore and rub, soothing and stroking.

“You’re tense,” I
murmured. “You need to relax.” I remembered how close she’d
come last night, how worked up I’d gotten her. Pressing in toward
the center of her upper back, I drew back her shoulders.

“That feels so good,”
she groaned.

Nuzzling down toward
her ear, I couldn’t resist giving it a light lick. She shivered at
my touch. “It’ll always be intense between us, Emma. That’s how
it is. It’s not going to cool off over the weekend.”

She shivered again as I
worked my hands down her back, stroking, massaging. Then I drew her
against my chest as I cupped her shoulders. Leaning down to kiss her
neck, I had a perfect view of her breasts in that small bikini top.
Her nipples stood out in two firm peaks of arousal, begging for my
touch.

“You have the most
incredible breasts,” I whispered in her ear, my hand moving up to
stroke her neck. “I can’t wait to suck on them again.”

I could feel the intake
of her breath, feel her still against me as she responded to my
naughty words. She gripped the arm of the chair, and dropped her
other hand to my thigh, spreading her fingers along it. Working my
hand down along her side, I caressed her hip, then drew her back
against me. Pressing her directly against my erection, full and hard
up against her plush, round, perfect ass. She gasped, tilting her
head back against my shoulder.

“Do you feel how hard
I am?” I growled into her, securing her against me.

“Yes,” she sighed
and God helped me, she wiggled her ass against my cock. I closed my
eyes, my fingers joining hers as I gripped the arm of the lounger.
White, blinding need nearly consumed me. I needed to bury myself in
her, deep.

She whispered, shy,
sounding awed, “You feel so big.”

That made me even
bigger. With the hand on her hip, I pushed her back against me again,
rocking her against my hardness. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

She groaned, as if
picturing the same thing. I knew we were in public, sitting out at a
hotel pool, but her nipples were nearly driving me insane. Insistent,
erect, pushing against the triangles of her bikini top, she looked so
erotic. She was desperate for me to touch her, palm her, cup and
maybe pinch her tips. I’d love to feel her squirm against me, the
little sounds she’d make. I couldn’t undress her, not right
there, so I’d just have to see how far I could go.

Pushing against her
again, pulling her ass back against me, I slid my other hand along
her thigh, rubbing it, stroking, gently grazing my fingers along her
skin. I stopped short of touching her pussy like I wanted to, but I
came near. Near enough to make her think about how good it would
feel.

“I loved feeling how
slick you were for me last night,” I murmured, rough and low.

“Mmm.” A whisper of
a moan came from her lips and she swallowed. Watching her get turned
on stoked my fire even more.

“But there was one
problem.” I drifted my hand along her stomach, teasing, up
underneath her breast, tormenting her. She wriggled her ass back
against my cock, pressing her thighs together like she needed some
more pressure, more friction. “I didn’t get to make you come last
night.”

In a soft voice she
answered, “Yes, you did.”

My hands stilled. What
did she say? “How’s that?”

“When I got home,”
she continued breathlessly. “I thought about what you did.”

So turned on I couldn’t
even move, I asked, “Did you touch yourself?”

“Yes,” she
confessed, quiet, just for me.

“Were you thinking
about me?”

“Yes.”

I slid my hand up her
thigh again, tracing the edge of her bikini bottom, pushing my cock
into her ass as I asked, “Did you come hard, baby?”

“Yes,” she panted.

“Are you wet right
now?” I asked, looking down at her, still all covered up.

“I’m so wet,
Chase.”

And then a group of
women emerged from a far door exiting the hotel, their voices and
laughter announcing their arrival. Glancing up, I recognized one or
two of them as people working with our team. It looked like they were
headed for the pool. Fuck.

With a frustrated
growl, I removed my hands from Emma. The whimper she made nearly
pushed me over the edge. I knew how frustrated she felt. All the cold
showers in the world wouldn’t cool this off.

“This is not over,”
I warned her. Or assured her, I didn’t know how she’d take it.
The storm I was bringing was of frightening proportions, so
out-of-control it kept getting unleashed in the wrong places, like a
storage closet a few feet away from everyone we knew. Or a hotel
pool. Next time I’d have to make sure we were in a goddamned hotel
room.

Grabbing a folded white
hotel towel from a low table next to us, I stood up and wrapped it
around my waist. I made a quick exit out the far side, cursing the
whole way under my breath.

Coach drilled us
through a killer workout, the last one before we officially started
tapering, resting up for the games. And that transitioned right into
an endlessly long team dinner. Everyone and their cousin wanted to
toast, wish us well, talk about how hard we’d worked and how it was
all going to pay off.

We were just heading
out for the weekend, people. We’d all reconvene next week in
Georgia. Could we save the sentimentality until
after
we’d actually won some medals? It seemed I was the only one in that
mood, though. Everyone else let the good feelings flow as I checked
the time on my phone.

I called Emma as soon
as I got out. She didn’t answer. We were all set to fly out
tomorrow morning. She’d said maybe it would be good to get a few
days away from me. Damn it.

I headed to my hotel
room, telling myself to switch on autopilot. I knew how to do it.
Swim, stretch, swim, strength, sleep, punctuated by constant fueling
all the time. Emma had me so revved up, so raring to go, but maybe I
had to channel all that energy into the water. I sure had the right
opportunity, waiting only days away.

I stretched, ate,
watched TV, then headed to bed, but I didn’t even make it through
the night. I didn’t have nightmares too frequently any more, but
some nights when I had an over-active mind it still happened. In my
dreams, I was back in the water. Black, sightless, cold in my lungs
as I sucked the water down, I re-lived the accident, pulled down into
a freezing, lifeless, helpless grave where I couldn’t move,
couldn’t scream—

Until I woke myself up,
sweaty, tangled in the sheets, heart racing. I knew what had happened
right away. It wasn’t the first time I’d had a nightmare about
drowning. But it still took a few minutes to get my bearings. Feet on
the floor, that helped. Head between my knees, I focused on slowing
down my breathing.

Who knew that 12 years
after the accident I’d still have night terrors? It didn’t make
sense to me, but it happened. Not nearly as often, but it still did.
PTSD, some therapist had told me. After a traumatic event, the body
and mind sometimes processed it by re-living the experience. When did
that fun finally stop for good?

After a few minutes and
a large glass of water, I felt better, but wide awake. Sleep wasn’t
happening. It was 2 a.m., but I decided to head to the pool. Heading
into the water to calm myself after a nightmare about drowning? Yeah,
I knew it didn’t make sense. But it worked for me. The water was my
home, where I felt most centered and at peace. The water was where I
could get myself into a rhythm, slow my mind and get into harmony and
sync again.

In the middle of the
night, I was the only one there. It was an indoor facility, so there
was no cover to remove, no prep work to perform. I could simply dive
straight in. Settling into an easy pace, the motions and movement
were so routine I executed them without conscious thought. The flow
and Zen sense of balance all started to pervade me, restoring my
sense of self even as it removed my need for it.

That feeling, as
transcendent and elusive as it sounded, I almost expected. It
happened more often than not when I swam. What surprised me was the
person I looked up and found standing at the edge of the pool.

Emma

I couldn’t sleep. I
was usually a pretty good sleeper, but not tonight. Tonight I had too
much on my mind. And I realized I missed my parents.

I didn’t live with
them anymore. I’d been on my own really since I was 18 and went off
to college at Florida Atlantic. I’d moved back to Vero afterward,
but into my own apartment. But they’d always been right there, a
short drive away. It wasn’t as if we spent all our time together
having heart-to-hearts. My dad wasn’t much of a talker, really, and
my mom was always hustling and bustling around.

But I realized that
being around them felt so reassuring to me. Even when craziness was
going down with my horribly failed attempts with boyfriends, all it
took was folding some laundry with Mom or doing some yardwork with
Dad and everything felt all right again. They were such nice,
reliable people, my mom a nurse, my father a property manager for a
few local commercial buildings. They took care of things and people,
watered lawns for neighbors on vacation, remembered birthdays. I
wanted to be like them when I grew up.

At 25, shouldn’t I
already feel grown up? Why did I still feel like a kid, mucking my
way through life without a clue? I’d started on this adventure so
excited about the scheme Tori and I had hatched. We could take our
blog to the next level! Get all kinds of crazy exposure, all while
having the times of our lives!

She was already in Rio,
part of the early PR crew covering the set-up, starting the hype.
From her texts, it was everything she’d expected and more. And she
hadn’t even met the athletes yet! She couldn’t wait.

Me? I felt like I’d
completely lost my mooring. If I discovered untold stories from
Chase’s past, how would I feel about telling them to the world? I
was starting to think I’d feel like shit. He must have reasons he’d
kept things quiet. And from what I’d learned about him, they were
probably good reasons. He didn’t seem like a frivolous person,
deciding to deny interviews just for the hell of it. And I was
starting to feel awful for my ulterior motive in getting to know him.