I drop my voice to a whisper, feeling incredibly vulnerable as I say, “I think I love you, Chase.”
Chase is quiet so long I fear he’s angry at me. God, I hope I didn’t fuck this up already. We’ve only been in his house together for like two minutes.
Slowly, anxiously, I lift my eyes back up to look at him. His eyes are so intense, so dark, just meeting them is enough to steal my breath. I feel my lips parting in surprise then suddenly he’s groaning and kissing me.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize against his lips, against his kisses. “I’m so sorry I pushed you away. You didn’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”
“I love you,” he growls and sucks back on my bottom lip. “I fucking love you, Avery, and you’re never getting away from me again.”
“Keep me,” I tell him and kiss him back. Tentatively, I lift my hands to his arms and squeeze, still knowing better than to touch his chest. “I’m yours.” Deep inside me, I know, I feel like I’ve always been his. My body was made to be near him, made to touch his.
“Mine,” he demands and kisses me so hard, so fast, I can’t even answer him.
At some point while Chase is kissing me, I feel so overwhelmed, I guess I start crying.
“Don’t cry, baby,” Chase says tenderly, breaking the kiss and wiping the tears from my cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize and sniffle, feeling beyond silly. “I’m just so happy.”
I feel like today I’ve ridden a rollercoaster of emotions after weeks of trying to feel as little as possible.
Chase smiles and drags his thumb across my bottom lip. “Come on, it’s been a long day.”
And that’s an understatement. I’m crying and some of the red swollen parts on his face are beginning to shadow with bruises.
By the hand he leads me out of the living room and up the stairs.
“Are you in a lot of pain?” I ask as he takes the steps stiffly beside me.
I don’t know a heck of a lot about fighting, but I know from personal experience sometimes injuries don’t necessarily hurt as much at first as they should. Pain has a way of marinating, sometimes you don’t feel the full force of it until much, much later.
“Nothing a little love and tender care won’t fix,” Chase assures me as we walk into his bedroom.
Now I have the strongest urge to take care of him, to fix him. I can see that he hurts though he’s doing a good job of masking it. I watched every hit his body took, every kick and slam Ethan dealt out. All I want to do now is make him feel better. I want him to feel good. He deserves it after the night he’s had. He’s deserves it after all this crap I’ve put him through.
I yank back gently on his arm and step close. “Let me tend to you?” I ask quietly as he looks down at me.
He nods and I grab the bottom of his shirt. I tug up on it and raise myself up on my tiptoes as he bends down, pulling it over his head.
“What do you have in mind?” Chase asks, straightening with a grunt.
I toss the shirt away and it falls somewhere on the floor. Next, I begin to tug down his pants. “Do you want a shower?” I sink down to my knees until I’m eye level with his groi
n.
Chase nods and his voice sounds a bit hoarser. “A shower would be good.”
“Step out of your pants,” I have to tell him as I tug them down to the floor.
His cock springs free and even though he’s hurt, even though his ribs are fractured and he’s turning black and blue all over, he’s growing hard for me. It takes every ounce of self-control I have to keep myself from reaching out and taking him in my hand. This isn’t for me, though, I remind myself.
This isn’t about what I want. I’m doing this to make him feel good.
Taking a deep breath, I rise up until I’m standing tall then I grab my own shirt and pull it up and over my head.
“Avery,” Chase says hoarsely and reaches for me.
I shake my head and bat away his hands. “No, no touching. If you start grabbing on me now, we’ll never make it through the shower. And trust me,” I smirk at him. “You need it.”