Long After (Sometimes Never) (21 page)

40

All This Time

Chase

As many times as I fantasized about Annie, never once did my imagination conjure up Naughty Nurse Annie. I made sure to get a few pictures on my phone for future reference—not that I’ll be forgetting what she looks like any time soon.

I’m already planning future costumes for her—Supergirl, Wonder Woman, Princess Leia—complete with ear buns—the list goes on and on. I have enough material to keep my fantasies extremely interesting for a long, long time.

“I don’t have clothes,” Annie says as I shut and lock the door. “I want out of this dress.”

Why?

“Oh, don’t let me stop you.” I smirk at her as I prop my bass in the corner and cross my arms. I wiggle my fingers at her, telling her to go right ahead, and then I run them over my chin. Her cheeks flush and I grin widely.

“I’m not stripping for you,” she says, but there’s no bite to it. It comes out soft, breathy, and sexy as hell.

I sigh, the air leaving my lungs quickly. “What about a little dance?”

My lips turn up
as I hold her gaze. Her eyes narrow, watching me closely. “Dance?”

I drop onto the couch, stretching my legs out, and resting my arms along the back cushion. “If you won’t strip for me, dance for me.”

She presses her lips together, fighting a smile. “In your dreams.”

“You can’t even imagine,” I murmur. Before she can respond, I continue. “How about jumping jacks?”

She scowls, lips still pursed.

“Toe touches?”

Now she crosses her arms, her high-heeled toe tapping into the carpet.

“Okay, okay. How about you “accidently” drop your stethoscope right here on the floor,” I suggest, pointing in front of me. “And then you can just…bend down and
slowly
pick it up.”

“Or,” she adds, holding up her finger, “I could just strangle you with it.”

“Oh, kinky.”

“Chase,” she says my name softly, her breath quivering. “I just really want to change and lay in bed with you.”

“Fine,” I concede because how can I not? I want her lying in my bed with me too. I push myself up and take a tee shirt from my drawer. I hold it out to her, but don’t let go when she tries to take it. “But I want you there all night.”

She swallows nervously, which makes me nervous in turn. I was kidding
about strip teases and toe touches—well, not really. If she was willing to do any one of the things I suggested, I’d have happily watched. But I was only messing with her to get her riled. Her sleeping in my bed all night I’m dead serious about.

“Okay.” Her voice is so quiet I barely hear it. She looks down, her eyes focusing on the shirt between us. I release it and she pads over to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I inhale deeply and kick my shoes off, pushing them out of the way. I tug my shirt over my head, tossing it onto the arm of the couch. Next I unbuckle my belt, pulling it loose from my jeans, and drop it on top of my shirt.
I just get my socks off when Annie steps out of the bathroom.

Damn
.

She looked sexy in the nurse’s outfit, but she’s gut-wrenchingly beautiful in my tee shirt. Her hair falls loosely around her shoulders, soft and smooth. I hear her quick intake of breath as her eyes eat me up hungrily.
She’s seen me in less, but her gaze burns as if it’s the first time she’s set eyes on me.

When she looks at me like that, it’s so hard to maintain my self-control. I
track her as she moves in my direction, each step purposeful. Stopping in front me, her bare toes touching mine, she places one hand on my stomach. Her palm is warm against my skin, the pressure firm, but gentle.

My muscles twitch as she begins a slow, torturous journey up my abdomen. Her fingertips trace over my ribs, my collar bones, my Adam’s apple. They continue onto my shoulders and down the length of my arms. She’s careful to make contact with every inch of my heated flesh.

And it feels indescribably good.

She looks up at me, her eyes meeting mine before she circles around me
leisurely. Her hands never cease their exploration as they travel along my shoulder blades, my spine, and finally, hesitantly, grazing over my jean clad ass.

She never says a word and neither do I. As she makes the full circle, coming back to stand in front of me, I simply guide her back until her legs are pressed to the side of my bed. I take her hands, lowering her to a sitting position, and then I push her back, fluidly lying her down.

Where my upper half is exposed, she’s exactly opposite. I start at her feet, running my fingers across her toes. They’re painted a soft pink that somehow fits Annie so well. It makes me smile. I take my time, vigilantly taking each one between my fingers and wiggling them. I caress the bottoms of her feet, making her squirm, and then I smooth my palms over the tops.

My hands settle on her legs, her skin soft
under my touch, and her breathing becomes shallow. I keep going. She feels amazing. I can’t decide what was better—her hands on me, or mine on her.

I make it to her thighs, pressed tightly together. I slide both hands in between, pulling them apart, and her lips
part as her chest rises quickly.

Definitely my hands on her.

This is unbelievably painful right now. I’m lodged tightly against my zipper with no more room left in my pants. I close my eyes for a second, taking a calming breath.

It doesn’t help.

I stroke my now shaking hand along her inner thigh and feel the goose bumps rise beneath my fingertips. I watch her face closely as I make a light sweep across her center. She gasps, her eyes flicking to meet mine.

I do it again, firmer this time and her hips flex into my hand.

Fuck
.

The need
I have to please her is overwhelming. I’m so turned on by her reaction to me and we’ve barely begun.

Making her feel good is my only mission in life at the moment.

I slip one finger under her panties, parting her, and then slide inside. She makes the most incredible sound—a breathy moan she tries desperately to keep contained. I withdraw my finger and then plunge back in with two. She moans again, this time unbridled.

She’s still watching me
touch her, eyes fixed on me attentively.

“I want to kiss you here,” I tell her. “But I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

She nods and I think she’s agreeing, but I have to be sure. This is Annie—I can’t rush her and screw this up.

“I need you to say it.”

“Yes,” she breathes. “I want you to.”

Shoving
my shirt up until it bunches halfway up her belly, I place a kiss there, and then lower her panties, tugging them off her legs. I place myself in between and her thighs squeeze my hips, attempting to close.

With the smallest amount of pressure on my part, she opens, letting her knees fall to the bed. I sink down, eager to have her taste in my mouth.

I flick my tongue out, sweeping it into her core, and then gradually upward. I nibble there for a moment, sucking her in between my lips, my tongue kneading and lapping.

Annie cries out, her fingers gripping my hair. She yanks, and then she pushes, as if she can’t decide if she wants to bring me closer or push me away. I don’t stop. I won’t until she either tells me to or I make her come.

And God, I hope it’s the latter.

“Chase.” My name releases high-pitched and pleading. “I can’t—it’s too much—it feels too good—oh.”

Shit
. Hearing her say my name that way makes me want to draw this out. Prolong it as long as possible. And then do it all over again. Her pleasure is my pleasure. I want to bring her to the brink of ecstasy, and then I want to propel her over.

My answer to her plea is to thrust my fingers inside
her once again as I continue to greedily devour her. There is no such thing as feeling too good. I’m going to teach her that right now.

She arches off the bed, her heels digging into my sides as her body stiffens. She quivers agains
t me with a long, loud cry I will never get sick of hearing, before she collapses.

She
’s panting as she tips her head up to look at me. I keep my eyes on hers as I trail my tongue down to lick her fresh, warm wetness into my mouth. She tastes unbelievably good. I want to memorize her flavor. Savor it.

“This is what I’
ve been missing?”

I place kisses along her thigh, over her hip, and onto her stomach before I reply. “
We have a lot of time to make up for.”

Near To You

Annie

I can’t believe what I’ve been missing. Nobody has ever made me feel this way before. This…freaking
incredible
. It’s such a relief to know we’re compatible in this way too. Not that I doubted we would be. My attraction to him has always been scarily strong. But sex is so important to a healthy relationship, so it’s nice to have that confirmation.

And now I’m going crazy. Because
I want to touch him. I want to learn his body and make him feel as good as he just made me feel. I want him on top of me. Inside of me. But I’m also afraid it’s too much, too soon.

Too soon
. It sounds so ridiculous. I’ve known him since I was fourteen. He’s been such an important part of my life for so long. It’s not too soon.

Yet, it is.

I pull his borrowed shirt down, covering myself. He’s watching me cautiously. I know he’s afraid I’ll push him away, run, freak out. But it’s the farthest thing from my mind. I scoot over, making room for him on the bed. He crawls up beside me, still studying my expression.

I put my palm to his chest and make him lie back. I can see him pressing against his jeans, begging to be released. It may be too soon to sleep with him, but there are so many other things we can do.

“I want…”
Damn it
. Why is this so difficult? Chase doesn’t say a word. He just lies there, watching me. Waiting. His lips are puffy—proof of what he just did to me—and his hair is mussed—proof of the way I reacted to what he just did to me.

After a deep breath, I try again. “I want to touch you.”

He doesn’t respond, so I unbutton his jeans in an attempt to clarify exactly what I want to touch. His hand circles around my wrist, halting me.

“You don’t have to. I don’t want to push this. We can just lie here with each other.”

“You don’t want me to?”

He closes his eyes, shaking his head quickly. “That’s not what I said.”

“You do want me to?”

He sighs. His hand releases me and he runs it through his hair. He looks way too good with messy hair.

“Annie, I’ve wanted you to touch me for a long-ass time. But that doesn’t have to happen right now. I didn’t go down on you just so you could return the favor. I did it because I want to make you feel good.”

“That’s what I want to do.” I
rub the bulge in his pants and he hisses through his teeth. “I want to make you feel good, too,” I whisper. “Please let me touch you.”

Chase’s eyes, dark in the dim light, burn with desire. I can see how much he wants this. Without a word, he unzips his pants, and d
rops his hands to his sides.

F
ighting the triumphant smile that tugs at my lips, I slide my hands into the top of his jeans, tugging both his pants and underwear at the same time. He lifts his hips and I work them down, letting them drop onto the floor. And I don’t even care that I leave them there.

I look at him for several seconds before he laughs,
drawing my attention back to his face. “Why are you laughing?” I ask defensively.

His laughing subsides, but he continues to grin at me, amusement in his eyes. “I never thought this would ever actually happen—you and me. And now you’re staring at my dick like it’s a freaking cheeseburger you can’t decide if you should eat or not.”

“Oh,” I utter, “I’m definitely going to eat it.”

Chase blanches, swallowing tightly. I feel my face heat because I’ve never done that before. Talked like that. But the way his breathing is coming in erratic bursts, leads me to believe he liked what I said.

I peek up at him. His eyes are pinched closed and his tongue darts out, skimming across his bottom lip. He buries his fingers into his hair—I think to keep from touching me. I take him into my hand and he grunts with approval. As my hand moves over him, up and down, he begins making small noises deep in his throat. It makes me feel good to know I’m doing this to him. I’m making him feel good. It’s empowering.

With a quick flick of my head to toss my hair over my shoulder, I lower myself, taking him into
my mouth. His hips buck, I’m not sure whether from surprise or because it feels good. His hands come down hard on the bed, twisting into the sheets. His legs are stiff, the veins in his feet standing out.

I go faster.

It’s shocking how much I’m enjoying this. I’ve given blowjobs, mostly to Loden to keep him happy when I refused to sleep with him, but I never liked it. It was a means to an end. Something I used to get what I wanted.

It’s not like that with Chase.
I love everything about this from his quiet moans, to the fisted sheets, to the slightly salty taste of his skin.

“Annie.” He pants my name. A warning. His hand comes down on my shoulder, trying to push me back. I understand completely, but ignore him. I want to taste him the same way he tasted me.

He tries again, more desperate this time. “Annie, I’m going to come.”

His toes curl and he tries to pull away, but I grip him tighter and
move quicker until he moans loudly and I taste him on my tongue.

I sit back on my heels and peer down at him. He’s trying to catch his breath and he’s staring at me, a mixture of expressions on his face.

“Jesus,” he says. He scoops his arm around my waist and pulls me to his chest. My head rests against his pounding heart as he combs his fingers through my hair. “That was so much better than I ever imagined.”

He’s imagined it?

That makes me smile until I realize there’s no going back now. We’ve taken a gigantic step and everything’s changed between us forever.

~*~

I wake up tucked into Chase’s side. His scent surrounds me and I inhale deeply, breathing it in. It’s all warmth and security. I feel safe. I feel important. I feel cared for.

Whatever this is—whatever is happening between Chase and I—I’ve never felt like this before. I’m so happy, but I’m scared all the time.

Scared I’m like my mom and I’ll mess this up.

He stirs beside me and I panic. I washed my make-up off after he fell asleep last night. Now it’s bright, the sun shining brightly through his windows. I don’t want him to see me like this.

“Hey,” he rasps, his voice thick with sleep. I use my hair as a veil, shielding my face from his view as I sit up. He brushes it behind my ear and I push his hand away.

“Don’t.”

He freezes, his hand raised in the air between us. An excruciatingly long beat goes by before he pops up, blocks my hand as I try to stop him, and combs my hair out of my face. He takes my chin and raises it, forcing me to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” He’s staring hard, eyes narrowed, concern furrowing his brow. “Are you running?”

“No.” I pull back and crawl to the end of the bed. He jumps up, blocking me.

“Talk to me. You’re freaking out. Tell me why.”

“I’m not freaking out.”

Both hands are on my cheeks, holding me gently in place. “Please don’t do this. Don’t run away from me again.”

“Chase,” I sigh as I push his hands away. I duck my head, trying to hide.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Just because.” I exhale shakily and try for honesty. “I need to get in the bathroom and shower. Put on my make-up. Then I’ll be fine.” He’s standing in front of the bathroom door and I wait for him to move, but he doesn’t budge.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“NO.”

“Look at me and I’ll move.”

“Move or I’ll kick you in the nuts.”

He chuckles and I look up to glare at him. As soon as I do, he crushes into me, smoothing my messy hair over my shoulder. “That’s better. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m not wearing make-up.”

He gives me a strange look, his brows drawing together in confusion, and his head tipping to the side. “So?”

“So I look hideous.”

“What?” He presses his forehead to mine, almost painfully. “You are beautiful. You are never hideous.”

“Not even when I have an allergic reaction to shrimp?”

He laughs, shaking his head against mine. “It wasn’t your best look, but no. Not even then. I think you’re perfect with or without make-up or hives.”

I don’t know what he’s doing to me because I want to laugh and cry at the same time. It’s the sweetest, cheesiest thing anybody has ever said to me. And no matter how loudly that little voice in my head is shouting that Chase is lying, I believe him. Maybe I’m not very pretty without mascara, but he doesn’t see ugliness when he looks at me.

He just sees me.

And he likes what he sees.