Jealous in July (Spring River Valley Book 7) (8 page)

“God, stop that. You’re killing me. Why couldn’t you live closer to the river? We should be there by now.”

“Anticipation is everything,” she purred.

He refused to look at her anymore. If he did, he’d pull over and yank her into the back seat, and his car wasn’t big enough for any finesse in lovemaking. Besides, she deserved better than a sweaty romp in the back of a car.

That thought stopped him. A hotel. He should take her to a hotel. That would be closer than her apartment.

And impersonal and sort of slutty, which might offend her. She’d asked him to take her home and take her to bed, and he was damn sure going to do whatever she asked, for as long as she wanted.

The car screeched to a halt in front of her building
, and Chase leapt out. He wanted to impress her by sliding across the hood rather than walking around the front bumper, but an image of him landing on his ass on the sidewalk nixed that idea. He’d save his smartass moves for later.
Right now, be a gentleman.
He opened the car door for her and offered his hand.

Her fingers were cold,
and her palm was dry. What did that mean? Oh, he’d cranked up the air in the car to keep himself from succumbing to the heat she was giving off.

She pulled out her keys
, and he followed her up the steps and into her apartment where she demurely closed the door behind him and then fell into his arms. She was warm and soft and curvy in all the right places, a woman of substance and sensual dimensions. Blinded by the passion he’d been trying to deny for months, he let his hands explore her.

When he slipped his fingers under the damp hem of her
T-shirt, she moaned. When he tugged open the zipper fly of her shorts, she gasped. The bit of flesh he revealed tantalized him, and he dropped to his knees in front of her and tasted the skin above her navel.

So she had the slight flavor of river water. They could always get some antibiotics later. Right now, he didn’t care if she was sweaty, muddy
, or wet; he wanted her in every way.

In a fluid movement, she pulled her shirt up over her head
, revealing the cups of a pale pink bra. Still on his knees, he pulled her shorts down over her thighs, licking his lips as each inch of flesh was revealed. She kicked off her shoes and tangled her fingers in his hair, groaning when he took the waistband of her pink panties in his teeth and tugged them down.

“Oh, God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered as he rose, trailing kisses up her naked body to the only garment she still wore.

As he reached around behind her to unfasten her bra, a serious thought stabbed through the haze of lust that had taken him over. “Condoms!”

She lowered her
mile-long lashes over those shimmering green eyes and purred, “Got that covered.”

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry as the Sahara as she flicked the clasp of her bra and let it drop to the floor. He’d never tried to imagine heaven before, but if he had, any vision he could have come up with would have paled in comparison to the woman who stood before him in the dimming light coming through the curtains of her living room.

Her pale skin was luminescent, her large dark nipples like berries waiting to be sucked into his mouth. She turned slowly, letting him feast on every rich curve and motioned for him to follow her into the bedroom.

“Do you want me to help you get your clothes off?” she asked.

His mind blanked. He heard the words but didn’t understand them. Was he still dressed? God, yes, in damp, sweaty clothes. He practically tore the neckline of his T-shirt trying to pull it over his head, and only the tight pressure of his jeans kept him from exploding when she bent over to rummage in the drawer of her nightstand.

A second later, as he stood nearly drooling, she produced a neon pink condom
packet from the drawer. “Sorry about the color. It’s from my cousin’s bachelorette party back in March.”

He wouldn’t have cared if she’d said it was from the
Titanic
in 1912.

Biting her bottom lip, she sauntered over to him and pushed him down on the bed. He fumbled with his fly and managed to get his pants and briefs halfway down his legs. She did the rest
, then climbed over him as he settled onto the soft comforter of her bed.

She straddled him and tore the condom wrapper open, revealing the matching neon latex inside. “I have half a dozen of them,” she said with a wink. “So we won’t run out.”

He let out a somewhat nervous laugh. “At least not tonight, anyway.” He must have drowned, he decided as she skillfully rolled the condom onto his erection. He’d died, and this was heaven. Not bad at all. If he’d known it got this good, he’d probably have jumped into the river a lot sooner.

The sensual brush of her inner thighs against his as she settled herself over him brought him back to reality. He reached up and grasped her hips, delighting in the feel of her body in his hands. With a moan that left him straining to ward of
f his inevitable orgasm, she lowered herself onto him and lay across his chest, her hair swirling around them, tickling his skin. “I need this, Chase. I need you,” she whispered before she started to move.

Brenda lost herself in the sensual fantasy that had taken over sometime between the moment Chase had put his hand on her knee in the paddleboat and the moment she’d begged him to take her home and make love to her.

Some logical part of her brain was well aware she’d completely shed her inhibitions and her
good-girl image. Some primal part of her that desperately wanted to be needed, to be worshipped and lusted after had taken over and urged her to do things with Chase she hadn’t even dreamed about doing with Riley.

He lay panting beneath her as she writhed, senseless in the throes of her third orgasm. When he rose up and rolled her body beneath his, she’d practically cheered in ecstasy. This was what she wanted, what she needed. Each time their eyes met, an arrow of emotion cleaved her trembling body, leaving her gasping. The depth of his feeling shone in his gaze, she realized when they lay spent after using the fourth of her secret stash of condoms.
The look he gave her as she stretched her body along the masculine length of his was one she’d always dreamed of receiving from Riley, and the stunning clarity of what he obviously felt for her left her weak.

Exhausted and sated, she refused to think too deeply about it and allowed herself to drift off to sleep as he stroked her hair, the rhythm of his breathing lulling her into believing all was right in her world.

She woke at sunrise, realizing she’d never bothered to close the room darkening shades on her eastern-facing bedroom window. The glaring light of Tuesday morning seemed to mock her, and she sat up, clutching the tangled sheet to her breasts, internal heat rising to her face to combat the chill of the air conditioner.

What had she been thinking?

Chase lay next to her, blissfully asleep. He looked every inch the sexual warrior he’d proven to be last night, muscles bulging, his brow slightly furrowed by a perplexing dream. Her stomach dropped a thousand feet when he moaned in his sleep. God, she wanted to wake him with a kiss and transform herself back into the sensual geisha she’d allowed herself to become the night before.

But what kind of person would that make her?

She wasn’t in love with him. Was she? No. How could she be? She really hardly knew him. A cold, harsh voice in the back of her head told her he was nothing more than a warm and willing substitute for the man she really wanted in her bed.

How would she be feeling if Riley was lying with her now? Would her guilt transform into triumph?

Chase deserved better. He deserved to have a woman who’d pined for him the way she’d pined for Riley. It wasn’t fair to him for her not to be completely, 100 percent besotted with him.

She thought of his wicked grin, his strong arms
, and the devastating way he looked at her when he held her body beneath his and steadied her through a near-blinding climax. His strong, gentle hands, his lips, his skillful fingers—what girl could have asked for more?

So why did she feel like a liar and a cheat?

He must have sensed her sudden rigid defiance as she clamped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from moaning. He stirred, stretched like a big cat, and narrowed his gorgeous eyes at her in a come-hither expression that had her wanting nothing more than to obey.

“Good morning.” His voice rumbled, sending a shock wave of desire through her.

“It’s Tuesday,” she whispered dryly, as if that explained everything.

Fortunately, the realization hit him fairly quickly. “What time is it?”

“It’s only six.”

He sighed, his suddenly tensed muscles relaxing. “So we don’t have to rush just yet. If I’d known this was how the evening would end, I’d have picked a Friday so we could enjoy the morning.”
Under the blankets, his hand found her thigh and teased her cooling flesh to goose bumps.

She gathered her sheet and nodded, avoiding eye contact.
“I even forgot to set my alarm. Good thing the sun is up. If it was a rainy day, we might have slept straight through.”

“That sounds fantastic.
Next time let’s pray for rain.” He sat up, flexing those tight abs. When he leaned over to kiss her, she stiffened, and he pulled back. “You okay?”

“Chase
—”

He dropped his hand from where he’d reached to brush hair from her cheek. His voice lost the sensual, husky quality that had carried her through the glorious night, and some of the light left his eyes. “Ah. I understand.”

“I’m sorry…I…last night was fantastic, but I feel—”

“You don’t have to apologize or explain. I do understand. It’s like in that book you were reading. We’re friends with benefits.”

“No! Not at all. That’s not what I wanted.” She scrambled for some of her discarded clothes as he got out of bed. Naked in the morning light he was magnificent, and she had to ask herself what kind of fool would turn a man like that away out of guilt or any other misplaced emotion. She should have been begging him to take her again, not hating herself for the possibility that she really didn’t feel all the things she’d felt when she’d come apart in his arms last night.

He scooped up his underwear and jeans and had them on in record time. When he turned to face her, she’d found her panties and her shirt, but still felt embarrassingly naked.
Not even an iron curtain would have hidden her raw emotions at this point.

“Brenda, I had a great time last night. It was…probably the best night ever. If you want to get together again, call me.”

“Chase…” She withered under his cool stare. He didn’t mean a word of what he’d just said. She’d wounded him with her hesitation, and she despised herself for it. Why couldn’t she let go of Riley for good and accept that Chase was the one who wanted her just as she was, no games, no lies?

“I’ve got to go home and shower. I still smell like the river.” He picked up his shoes and left the bedroom. “I’ll see you at work.”

Brenda crumpled herself into a ball in the middle of her bed, still too spent to cry. She should have run after him and apologized for even thinking for a moment that what they’d done could be pushed aside and forgotten in the light of day. They’d made a connection last night, something deep, but she was afraid to admit it because that meant she’d wasted all her time and all her love on a man who really didn’t matter to her.

And now she’d hurt the man who should have mattered.

How was she going to live with herself? How was she going to make it up to him?

* * * *

Chase let the hot water lull his tired body. He leaned his forehead against the cool tiles of his shower wall and tried not to think of Brenda—as if he would ever be able to erase her from his mind for a split second.

She’d rocked his world last night, given him more than he’d ever dreamed of
, and left him utterly and completely enslaved to her. And he’d been fool enough to think one romp in the sack would cure her of her hopeless attachment to that lucky bastard Riley.

Typical guy thinking.
Once she’s had me, she’ll never want anyone else
. He’d forgotten that on rare and devastating occasions women could play the Crosby, Stills, and Nash card and just “love the one they were with.”

Sure Brenda had wanted him last night. He’d made no mistake about it. She’d been all his when she stood in her apartment, naked as a goddess
, and crooked her pretty little finger at him. The only thing that hadn’t occurred to him was that she was scratching an itch; that was all.

The look on her face this morning nearly killed him. She’d been sorry. She’d regretted their night together. But he never would.
He’d shown her in every possible way exactly how he really felt about her. There was no way she could believe anything other than the truth. He was in love with her, and he would be for a long time, even if she never even glanced in his direction again.

Now, he just had to figure out how to deal with the gut
-wrenching disappointment of knowing he hadn’t changed her reality the way she’d changed his.