The Debt 10 (Club Alpha) (4 page)

Chase, as if sensing it, slowed down,
kissing her softly, stroking her hair as his other hand slid around her waist
and lingered on her lower back.

They stood there, kissing, their lips
broadcasting so much more than either of them could truly say with words.

He’s
damaged.

He’s
damaged and he’s carrying terrible secrets on his back.

Chase
is tortured by his past—by what happened to his mother, his father.
 
All of it.

To have been exposed to the gangs, the
violence, and then having this incredible gift fall in his lap—to be able
to escape all of that ugliness and play in the NFL…it was almost too much for
any one person to handle.
 
Who
wouldn’t be overwhelmed by such a drastic change?

She inhaled his breath as he kissed her
more deeply now.
 
His hands both
moved to hold her face, as he broke away and looked into her eyes.
 
“I want you to be with me,” he told her.

She felt her heart lift at his
words.
 
“But…what does that mean?”

“It means that you’re with me and me
only.
 
You don’t see any other
guys.
 
And I won’t see anybody else,
either.”

Faith nodded.
 
“I don’t want to see anyone but you.”

“Good.”
 
He trailed his fingers down to her
neckline.
 
“And it also means I get
to do things to you,” he said, his voice low and husky.

“What kinds of things?” she asked, her
breath thick in her throat.

“Whatever I want.”
 
As he said it, he took hold of her shirt
and pulled it up and off.
 
“Anything
I want to do to you,” he continued, as he slid her bras straps down and then
removed the bra with a quick snap of his fingers on the clasp.

Her breasts spilled out, bare, her torso
naked like his now.
 
Her nipples
were stiff, hardening even more as Chase looked at her without disguising his
own lust.

“I want you to have whatever you need
from me,” she said, meeting his gaze.

He smiled ever so slightly, and then his
hands were covering her breasts, his fingers grazing her tender nipples.

“I need a lot,” he said, still massaging
her breasts, and then he suddenly grabbed her and spun her around so that she
was facing away from him.
 
“Can you
handle everything that comes with this?” he asked, his breath in her ear as his
palms clasped over her breasts once more, squeezing them tightly.
 
Her nipples slid in between his two
fingers and she moaned.

“I promise I can do it,” she told
him.
 
“I can handle anything.”

She didn’t know if that was true, but she
wanted it to be.

“I can be very demanding,” he
whispered.
 
“And I can be rough
sometimes.”

She felt his hands squeezing tighter on
her breasts, and her nipples tingled expectantly.
 
“Rough is good,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” he asked.
 

“Yes,” she replied.

Now his hands moved aggressively to her
pants and he was stripping them off her, pulling her panties roughly down to
her ankles too.
 
She was going to
step out of them, but he stopped her from moving.
 
“No,” he said.
 
“Keep it there.
 
Don’t do anything unless I tell you to
do it.”

Her pants and panties effectively bound
her ankles in place.

She heard Chase unzipping behind her and
then, moments later, he was grabbing her around the waist with one arm and
slightly lifting her, and his erect member was sliding between her legs,
pushing at her wet folds.

“Oh God,” she moaned, as he thrust inside
her without much warning.

She was so wet that she was able to take
him in without any pain or discomfort, despite the enormous size of him.

One arm wrapped around her waist, the
other hand grabbed her hair as he thrust inside her, forcefully taking her from
behind.
 
“Fuck you are so fucking
tight girl,” he said, biting her earlobe just hard enough to cause
pain—but not enough to truly hurt her.

She gasped as he went all the way in,
pressing his pelvis so tightly against her backside that it was as if he’d
glued himself to her.
 
His hand slid
from her belly up to her breasts and squeezed them together as he pumped his
cock slowly in and out of her dripping slit.

She looked down, seeing her legs shake,
unable to spread wide because of the pants around her ankles.
 
He was in tight to her, widening her
with his hips, his cock, and it was very, very tight indeed.

“Oh shit,” she gasped, as he slammed her
harder, then pulled her hair so that her head tilted back and his mouth could
slip onto hers, suctioning there.

His tongue dove inside at the same time
that he fucked her even harder, his rod smashing through her walls, caving her
in with complete and utter domination.

It hurt but it felt amazing.
 
He was so large and powerful that he
could break her in two if he wasn’t careful.
 
Yet despite his roughness, she trusted
him completely.

She could feel his need, his want and
even his kindness, despite the brutal smashing of his pelvis, the enormous cock
that was drilling into her, sliding in and out and getting her so wet.

He began fucking her relentlessly, and
now the one hand cupped her breasts and pushed them together, while the other
released her hair and slid down between her legs, rubbing her clit furiously.

Chase began fucking her faster and
faster.
 
“You’ll take it exactly how
I want to give it to you, won’t you?”

She nodded as he fucked her harder and
faster than she’d ever been fucked.
 
“Yes,” she cried out.
 
“Yes.”

And then her cries turned into wild
screams of abandon as she climaxed on his dick, and he lifted her into the air
so that she was riding his pole as she came, sucking him in and out of her
slit, her tight, juicy hole.

“Fuck,” he bellowed, and she felt him
coming as she put her hands on his thighs and rode down hard on his dick,
letting him blow all of himself inside her pussy.

She didn’t care about anything but the
release.
 
The beautiful, sweet agony
of his sex, of his initiation.

I’m
his
, she thought
ecstatically as he fucked her and came inside of her.

I’m
completely his
.

***

Later, complete and total relaxation was
hers—as the two of them lay in Chase’s enormous king-sized bed in his
master bedroom.

Chase was completely naked, his muscular
body stretched all the way out with his arm cushioning Faith’s head as she
snuggled into the crook of his arm.
 
She ran her hand across the length and breadth of his ribcage, up across
his chest, scratching his nipples with her fingernails.

He sighed, contented.
 
“Damn,” he muttered, his eyes drowsy as
he stared up toward the ceiling.

She admired his jaw, the depth of his
features, the strength that every pore of his body seemed to radiate.

“This is nice,” she whispered, snuggling
that much closer. His arm wrapped under her neck and his hand angled toward her
hair, as his fingers tangled in the strands and played with them, tingling her
scalp.

“I’m going to get soft if we spend too much
time like this,” he said.

She couldn’t tell if he was joking or
not.
 
“I think we should do this
every day.”
 
Faith kissed his chest,
and then licked his nipple, pretend biting his skin.
 

He sat up a little and looked at
her.
 
“You know how I said my life
is complicated, right?”

She smiled, and then, as she saw the look
on his face, her smile faded.
 
“Why
do I feel like I’m about to get a bomb dropped on me right about now?”

He shook his head.
 
“I should’ve explained this shit to you
from the beginning.
 
Back when I
asked you to sign those papers.
 
You
remember?”

“Yeah, of course I remember.”
 
She sat up, too, her stomach churning
with worry as she saw Chase’s expression.
 

He
looked—almost—nervous.
 
And she’d never seen him look that way before.

“Well, the thing is…I’ve got a lot of
entanglements with my history, you know?
 
My past.
 
I need to protect
myself.”

“I don’t understand,” Faith told him,
squinting.
 
“What—what are
you—“

“Just let me get to it,” he said,
sounding edgy.
 
He drove his fist
onto the mattress with a loud thump, and Faith sat further back now, moving her
body away from his.

“Get to what, exactly?”

And then she understood.
 
Her mouth dropped open.
 
“Are you breaking up with me already?”

He smirked.
 
“No, girl.
 
It’s not that.
 
It’s not even close.”

“Oh.”
 
She rubbed her hand across her
face.
 
“I’m confused, Chase.
 
What the heck’s going on right now?
 
I thought things were good.”

“They are good.”
 
He nodded, contemplative.
 
“Yeah, they are.
 
But maybe after I tell you what I’m
about to tell you…you might not feel the same way about me anymore.”

Her stomach flipped and dropped all at
once, and she felt nauseous.
 
“This
sounds bad,” she muttered.
 
“Well,
just tell me.
 
Get it over with
already.”

Chase raised his gaze to meet hers.
 
“My agent put me in touch with this
company called Club Alpha,” he said, “back when I first signed with New
England.
 
He told me that they work
in this field called lifestyle management.”

“What’s that even mean?” Faith asked,
genuinely curious.

“I don’t exactly know,” he chuckled,
without much humor.
 
His eyes were
distant.
 
“I just know that they
meant business.
 
They flew me and a
couple other big name athletes in this private jet to Vegas, and put us up in a
really expensive villa.
 
They comped
everything.
 
Put on a party, gave us
gambling money, really pulled out all the stops to show us how well connected
they were.”

Faith was getting more and more restless
as he continued to evade the point.
 
“So what happened?” she said.
 

“What happened is, they explained to me
that they understood my situation.”

“Your situation?” she repeated.

“Yeah.
 
I’m vulnerable to being stung,” he told
her.
 
“How many rich young famous
dudes get involved with some woman and then, next thing you know, it’s on the
cover of some tabloid with a full interview inside?
 
The girl sells the story and the guy’s
life turns to shit.”

“I feel sick,” Faith said, putting a hand
on her stomach.

“You want me to stop talking?”

“No, just say it.
 
Please, just…just tell me the rest.”

He sighed.
 
“I knew they were right about my
problem.
 
I have a past and my agent
and my media people, they’ve made up this whole story that totally erased the
gang stuff and my true past.
 
Nobody
in the mainstream media knows about my mom or the fact that I was arrested and did
time when I was a juvenile.”

Faith’s eyes widened.
 
“You went to jail?”

Chase pointed to the tattoo on his chest of
the clock with no hands on it.
 
“You
never found out what this one meant,” he said.
 
“It’s a symbol for doing time.
 
And I did about eight months when I was
fifteen for strong-arm robbery.”

“I don’t know what strong-arm robbery
even means.”

“It means I didn’t use a weapon.
 
I just went up to someone and threatened
them physically and made them give me their possessions.
 
I used to just go up to folks on the
street and tell them to give me their shit.
 
I didn’t need a knife or gun—just
my height and the fact that I was mean was enough to do the trick.”