Chasing Allie (Breaking Away Series #2) (10 page)

My eyes take in the darkness outside, the lights flashing from movement, the look of Chase’s hair and exposed skin. Every sense begins to fill as he gives and gives. My lesson now is to take and take, and I am a very good student.

This is a class I could take forever, and study until I score a perfect one hundred every time.

The pace picks up and I’m cresting, cresting, my hips pushing against his mouth. I let go of his hair and reach up, desperate to grab something—anything—as an anchor. My body’s ready to levitate and I need to hold on to something. Chase’s touch will make me orgasm and explode into a million tiny pieces. At least one part of me needs to be attached to the ground.

And then I shatter. My hips buck and I try to squirm away but he won’t let me. I grit my teeth and feel my neck tighten. I’m self-conscious but let go of that fast as the river of emotion and sensations carries me away. I’m caught in the rapids of sensuality and float on the water, letting its swift currents take me away. 

Somewhere in the distance I’m calling Chase’s name. Crying it out in passion, swept up in the undulating explosion he’s elicited from me. 

As my body shimmers and shivers, coming down from the climax, Chase moves up, his thighs near my head. Without a word I reach out and wrap my fingers around his thick shaft, easing him closer. His eyes are hooded and mysterious. There is no question what he wants.

And there’s no doubt I’ll give it to him.

The skin is like dry velvet, soft and pliant over the rock-hard erection. My mouth opens and I peek my tongue out to lick the shaft. Chase groans, a vibration I feel as my lips close over him. I’m healed just enough that this doesn’t hurt at all. Not one bit.

In fact, it feels good. Great. Tremendous. I’ve never held this kind of power in my hand and mouth.

I never really understood that I could.

Chase cups my jaw, then slides his hand into my hair as he leans forward, pushing in deeper to my mouth. I have all the control, with my fist around the base. His eyes are closed in pure concentration. I can’t easily look at him and do this at the same time, so I slide my hand up, wetting it, pulling my mouth away as I use the fluid motion to dial up the heat.

He makes a sound that etches itself in my heart.

This is me giving him one of the greatest pleasures two people can share. His body tenses and he moves slightly. I put my mouth back on him, wet and loose, and tongue the tip of him. 

He arches forward and pulls back, startling me.

“I want you straddling me,” he announces, and suddenly he’s on the bed and I’m on top of him, our bodies inches from his being inside me. He flipped us and I don’t know how. All I have is the dizzying reminder of his pure animal power and my own internal need to have more of this. More licks, more strokes, more fire and sighs and—

“Do you want me in your mouth or inside you, Allie?” he asks. I think it’s the last question Chase is asking tonight.

“I want to give you what you want.” I inch down, my cheek against his navel, and lick my palm. As my fingers close around him he makes a vicious hissing sound through his teeth.

“I want you.”

“I know.” I’m a little lost now. I want him to be my first, but I don’t know if I’m ready. I like this. I love the feel of slick and soft, of tender and teasing, of power and pleasure. Do we need to make love fully? Does my virginity need to be on the table just yet? 

Can I just explore
this
without feeling like I have to do
that
?

There seem to be rules I don’t know about.

He inhales, the sound like a motorcycle bouncing on a line of bumpy rocks. “What we’re doing is just fine. Better than fine.” He reaches down and strokes my hair. “Keep going. You have a mouth like wet mink.”

My mouth falters. I’m unsure and don’t know what to do here. Within seconds Chase’s response makes it clear I’m mastering this.

“Oh, God, Allie. I’m getting so close.” 

Close?

I’m on top of him, my mouth covering his fullness, my fingers cupping him. My breasts rub against the roughness of the hair that covers his thighs and my legs are split, on either side of his knees, my own wetness exposed to air.

He arches up, just like I did, and his face changes.

“Faster,” he says. I move faster, amazed at how I can do this to him.

And then he jerks, hot liquid filling my mouth as I realize what’s happening. Oh. Oh.

Oh.

So this is what all those magazine articles, forum posts, and whispered gossip sessions in school were talking about.

This is what it’s like when a man orgasms in your mouth. This might be the second time we’ve been together, but something about being
this
intimate makes sex seem even richer. More real. 

More true
.

The taste is definitely not what I expected, but the thrill of making Chase do this is so exciting I don’t care. I keep moving my hand, fast. I want to make sure he feels as good as he made me feel earlier. 

That kind of glow is something you want to share with the person you bare yourself to for the first time in your life.

He grabs my hand, all steel and firmness. “Stop,” he chokes out. “It’s all good. No, really, Allie.” A chuckle is in his throat and I let go, a little worried. Did I hurt him? My mouth peels off him and twist to move, instinctively swallowing.

I try not to gag. It’s not that it’s that bad. Just unexpected. Kind of a rite of passage, if the giggles and gossip in the girls’ bathroom in middle school and high school are to be believed. 

“Did you?...oh.” He goes uncharacteristically quiet, his body lithe and authoritative as he moves over, beckoning me to stretch out and curl into his chest. “C’mere. Thank you.” His arm is extended toward me and I bend down, a yawn overtaking me, making my ribcage extend, my toes point, and my hands reach up over my head. 

Chase’s hot hands are all over my breasts, my belly, my breastbone. “Nice. Like an Allie buffet, and I’m the only customer.”

I groan. “That was so bad.”

“No.
That
was so good. You did this thing with your tongue and the beginning...” He looks down at me, eyebrow raised. “You sure you’ve never done that before?”

I make a funny sound in the back of my throat and cough. When I do, I taste, um...him again. “I swear. Actually, yours is the only one I’ve ever touched. Or tasted.”

He jolts. “Seriously?”

“I told you that,” I mutter into his chest hair. My cheek rests on the dragon’s wing of his tattoo. “The first time we were together like this.” 

“There’s a huge difference between being told something and really getting it,” he says with a long exhale. “I didn’t think about the fact that I’m your first in so many ways.” He takes a long time before he says anything else. 

Finally, he breaks the silence and says, “Thank you.”

I startle. “For what?”

“For trusting me enough to be your first.”

I snuggle in as Chase twists and pivots, wrestling the sheet out from the bed and pulling it up over us both. A wave of extreme bliss mixed with extraordinary exhaustion hits me. He settles down on the pillow and I release into him, my cheek hearing his heartbeat, my body going slack as I whisper:

“Thank you for loving me enough to be my first.”

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

I wake up and my body feels oddly slick and dry under the sheet. I don’t sleep naked at home. Not ever. Waking up in the bed cuddled next to Chase is a new—

Wait.

Where’s Chase?

I turn over from the wall and reach backward. Empty bed. I roll all the way over and find two little blue eyes staring at me.

A small peep of surprise burbles out of my throat. A tiny little boy with red, springy curls and pale yellow eyes is staring at me. I know he’s a boy because he’s wearing a Superman cape and nothing else.

“Whatcha name?” he asks.

Did Chase magically shrink last night and turn into a miniature Morty?

“Um, Allie. Who are you?”

“Josh-ie. I wan choc-at mik!” he shouts.

Marissa flies past the open bedroom door and then suddenly appears, walking backward down the hall and doing a double take.

“There you are!” she declares, swooping down and picking up the little boy. She holds him on her hip and looks down. “Where is your diaper?”

“No wan di-pah! Wan choc-at mik!” he screeches. The kid could cut down trees with that screech, it’s so sharp.

“Okay, okay,” Marissa says, surrendering. “Let’s get your diaper and some chocolate milk.” She sets him down and he scampers off. She reaches the doorway and turns around.

“Who is that?” I ask.

“Remember how I said things with Morty are complicated?”

“Yeah.” I am listening, but I’m also looking around the room. Chase’s clothes are gone.

“That’s the complication. Joshua. Morty’s two-year-old nephew.” She walks away quickly, and I hear a crash, then the sound of Marissa groaning as Joshua cries.

Um, this is just getting stranger and stranger. Morty’s nephew?

And where is Chase?

I sit up, pulling the sheet under my arms just in case someone else decides to crash the room. Who knows. Maybe the Pope is coming by for a visit. Then my eyes land on a small piece of folded paper on the floor, right next to the bed.

It has my name on it.

A sinking, terrifying feeling begins in the pit of my stomach. No. Oh, no. Not a kiss-off letter. I’ve read enough stories about girls getting dumped by text, by note, on the phone—you name it—to look at this situation right now with anything but terror. Maybe Chase is leaving me because I wouldn’t go all the way last night. Maybe I made the wrong choice. 

Tears fill my throat. It aches. I ache for him. Is this what morning-after regrets feel like? What do you call it when you wish you’d done
more
with someone, though?

I open the note anyhow, because what choice do I have?

Dear Allie,

I’ll see you soon.

Chase

That’s it? That’s it? He disappears on me and leaves a cryptic note that says nothing? A thousand feelings thread through me in ten seconds. The major emotion is horror. I’ve been abandoned after the most passionate, intimate night of my life. My hands start to shake. My chest seizes.

The fact that Chase is gone hits me hard. I can’t believe I woke up to a toddler staring at me naked in someone else’s bed. I’m alone and Chase has mysteriously disappeared. I wonder if all of those phone messages—the texts—had something to do with this. Was his father harassing him? Did something happen with Atlas? My mind is spinning as I try to make sense of my empty bed.

It doesn’t make sense. That’s the problem. If it made sense, I wouldn’t feel this churning inside me.

“Come on,” Marissa says, knocking twice on the threshold of my room. She sprints after Joshie and calls back, “Let’s have some coffee.”

Coffee. I get up and quickly close the door and turn around. My clothes are in a puddle on the floor. My eyes fill with tears. After a night like last night, why would he leave?

His note is so simple. Too simple. What am I supposed to do? I’m here with no way of getting home. I don’t have a job. I have a little more than $300 in my pocket.

The tears spill over and drop onto my chest, rolling down the same breasts that Chase touched last night. I wipe the tears away. I wipe the new tears from my eyes. Squaring my shoulders, I take a deep breath. All I can do now is get dressed and go out into the kitchen and face whatever’s next.

Joshie is sitting on the sofa watching a cartoon when I go out into the main part of the apartment. The familiar gurgle of a coffee maker and the scent of freshly brewed coffee lifts me a little.

“Here,” Marissa says, handing me a full mug.

I take a sip. It burns my tongue. That’s okay. At least I feel something. At least I feel something in my body. God knows my heart’s too full of all the feelings I have for Chase.

Marissa studies me. “I don’t know what to say, Allie,” she says with a pained smile.

“I didn’t see him leave. He left me a note,” I explain, handing it to her.

She reads it and makes a snorting sound. “Well that explains
everything
,” she declares.

The sarcasm in her voice makes me shudder inside. I feel the same way.

She drinks some of her coffee and then frowns. “Does this have something to with all the texts he was getting last night?” she asks.

I shrug and try again with my coffee. This time I sip it so it doesn’t burn me. “I don’t know,” I say. That’s the truth. I really don’t know.

“Did he say anything last night?” she asks. Her face is twisted with pity and confusion. I imagine mine is too. The confusion part, anyway. 

“No,” I say, the word coming out like a gasp. “If he’d said something, at least I’d know why he’s gone.”

She nods. “Maybe it was something bad and he had to get home right away.”

I give her a hard look. “Then why didn’t he wake me up? Why didn’t he write a better note? Why didn’t he...” My words break off. I can’t control the sob in my throat.

“Oh, honey,” Marissa says, coming over to me and enveloping me in a giant hug.

I let the tears come out. I let the sob escape from my throat.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she says in a soothing voice, rubbing my back.

“I love him,” I choke out.

“I know. I know,” she says.

The fact that she’s not surprised by my admission of love for Chase surprises me. “I’ve never said that before,” I explain. “I’ve never told anyone that I love them.”

“You’ve told me,” she jokes.

“Ha ha,” I say. I can’t help but let half of my mouth go up in a smile. “You and Mom. That’s it,” I concede.

Her face goes serious as she pulls away and looks at me. “I understand, I really do, Allie. He’s the first person you’ve fallen in love with, and you...” She lets her voice trail off, and then, when I don’t answer she adds, “The first person you’ve slept with?”