Worth the Chase

She pulls at the straps of her long coat. It falls to the ground, and I practically come at the sight of her in a white lace bra and panties. “Jesus, did you go grocery shopping in that?” I’ll murder every person in that store.

“Yes. I went there first. Then I got a call from your doctor. Good thing you made me your point of contact when you were nice and high off the pain meds. Since you keep trying to convince me you’re fine, I had him call me with updates. He wanted me to hear for myself you’d been cleared.”

“Wait—my doctor called you? That traitor.”

“Are we going to dwell on that, or are we going to continue to discuss how you’re recovered enough?” God, she looks like an angel. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. My life starts and ends with her.

She bends down to grab the coat, and I immediately put a stop to that nonsense, and go to pick her up, but then smarten up, knowing I’m not healed enough. I snatch her jacket and toss it over the couch.

“What are you—”

“I’m taking control. Sort of.” I snatch her hand and drag her toward the bedroom.

“Chase…” I feast off her beautiful laugh and pick up the pace.

“What we’re going to discuss is how you’ll need to call off this whole week because I plan on getting reacquainted with every single inch of your body.”

“Just a week?”

“Month, year! Forever. I’ll never be done with you.”

Chapter 33

Bridget

Two months later…

“Thanks, Susan! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

She waves back. “Same, and good luck!”

My belly does a double flip. I exit the library and run to Chase’s monster truck. He’s still on medical leave, so I get the luxury of being escorted to and from work. Not that I have a choice. My jealous boyfriend is too worried I’ll fall in love with my Uber driver and never be seen again. That, and he’s afraid I’ll get kidnapped. My clingy man takes no chances of losing his angel. My eyes dance with humor at our daily argument.

“Are you kidding me? Have you watched the news? The statistics on beautiful women being kidnapped are rising.”

I scoff at him. “Seriously? First off, when was the last time you watched the news? And second, I doubt I’m going to get kidnapped during my seven-minute ride.”

“I watch nothing but the news while you’re gone. And secondly, you’re the perfect candidate. Sexy and snarky. That angelic smile and sharp teeth.”

“Jesus, again? How many times are you going to bring that up? You told me to bite you.”

“I also told you to call me Edward. You called me Jacob. It killed the mood for me.”

“Whatever. Fine. I’ll take your truck. Just hope I don’t meet another bad boy truck lover. What if we end up talking truck stuff and fall in love over our trucks—?”

“I’m fucking driving you.”

And now, like clockwork, my escort is waiting outside to drive me home every day. And just as expected, he always has something to prove. I open the passenger side door, but he shakes his head. “Sorry, riders sit in the backseat. Company policy.”

“This again?” He doesn’t even reply. He fiddles with the radio. I roll my eyes, shut the front door, and climb in the back seat.

“Same place?”

“Yep.” I try not to engage in his little game. His way of proving Ubers aren’t safe.

“Where you coming from?” Here we go…

“Oh, work. I’m a librarian. I just love reading books. Especially the naughty ones. When no one is looking, I find the dirtiest book in there and read the explicit parts to myself.” I lean forward. “And sometimes…when no one is watching…I touch myself.”

He swerves, and I snicker, leaning back in my seat.

“Well, that’s inappropriate. What time of the day does that normally occur? I love to read and touch things.”

He’s so ridiculous.

“It happens all the time. I’m so worked up by the time I get off work, even this ride home is uncomfortable. I’m so swollen and wet from being turned on all day.”

I watch him swallow through the rearview mirror. “Good thing you have a man at home to take care of that.”

I press my index finger to the top of my chest, fondling the top button of my blouse. Popping it open, I run my finger between my breasts. “No, actually. I’m all alone.”

He slams on his breaks, almost hitting the guy in front of him. “You’re not fucking alone. You probably have a hunk at home. A stallion ready to tear you up and eat you ’til you scream.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting back my laughter. He’s totally losing at his own game, and I love every second of it.

“I do, but he’s too needy. I was hoping…maybe you could help me. There’s this ache between my thighs…” I run my hand down past my navel to the top of my thigh, pushing my skirt up. “And it desperately needs to be soothed.”