In Deep: Chase & Emma (All In Book 1) (10 page)

I gasped as he brought
his fingers up to my panties. There wasn’t much to them, just a
lacy G-string, the type that wouldn’t cause panty lines, or put up
any fight when a big, sexy beast of a man pulled them to the side and
palmed me in his hot, huge hand.

“So wet for me,
baby,” he groaned, rubbing me, sucking my nipple, starting to
stroke my slit. Arching into him, I moved my feet farther apart so he
could have all the access he needed. The man had such skills. I was
clearly in the presence of a master, as the wide pad of his thumb
brushed right up against my aroused clit, giving me a nice press
right where I needed it.

“Yes,” I cried,
pushing against him, letting him know it felt so good.

“You need this,
baby?” he asked, starting to fuck me with his fingers as he began a
rhythm with his thumb. “You’re worked up, too, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I admitted,
a needy sob escaping my lips as I threw my head back. He was so good,
so commanding, the firm way he held my tits, the way he sucked me
hard, almost to the point of pain but not quite, just right at the
edge where I could feel a white heat burning, licking, flaring up
though my body.

“That’s it,” he
coaxed me, picking up the rhythm. “Give yourself to me, Emma.”
Eyes closed, his voice poured over me. I thrust my hips in time with
his hand, riding him, wanting more. “I can’t wait to make you
come.”

Holding onto the shelf
so tight my knuckles turned white, I bit my lip and whimpered, trying
to stay silent. We were in a restaurant. Loud as it was outside, I
couldn’t exactly scream.

“It’s hard staying
quiet in here, I know,” he whispered in my ear, making me shiver.
He thrust his fingers up inside me, working my slick, wet pussy,
demanding the orgasm that waited to quiver, shudder and explode from
deep inside me. “I know you want to scream when you come, Emma.”
He leaned down and took my nipple in his mouth, sucking, then giving
my tender, aroused tip a light bite. “You have to keep quiet in
here, baby. But back at the hotel I’m going make you scream all
night.”

Panting, moaning, I was
so close. I could feel it, mounting, cresting as he pulsed against my
clit. Standing up, he leaned down to my ear, one hand still cupping
my breast possessively, the other fucking me so good.

Licking my earlobe, he
murmured low and wicked, “Are you going to come for me?”

Then the door opened
with a loud smack against the wall. Chase drew himself to his full
height, hands on either side of my shoulders, his body covering mine.

“Sorry!” Whoever it
was apologized before heading back out again.

“Fuck.” Chase
exhaled, touching his chin to the top of my head.

“Oh shit! Who was
that?”

“Someone who works
here. I don’t think he saw you. Fuck.” He smacked his palm
against the shelf. A can of tomatoes threatened to topple over, but
with quick reflexes he caught it and put it back.

“Oh my God.”
Fumbling, shaking, I picked up the strings to my top and tied them
behind my neck. What had we been thinking? Well, we hadn’t been
thinking. “This isn’t the place. We shouldn’t—”

“I’m sorry, Emma. I
really don’t think he saw you. I didn’t mean to embarrass or
expose you.”

“No, it’s my fault,
too.” I tried to get my bearings. The door was right behind him.
Damn it, a minute ago I would have let him do anything to me in that
closet. Anything. And the entire team—swimmers, colleagues, the
managers who’d given me this coveted job—were standing mere feet
away. I’d shown all kinds of restraint in the privacy of his hotel
room. Now this was where I chose to cut loose? How stupid could I be?

“I’m sorry, Chase.
I have to get out of here.”

“Wait, Emma,” he
called after me, but I needed to go. I felt so out of control that I
almost frightened myself. Tori was the one who did this kind of
thing. When we went out dancing I’d had to rescue her from all
kinds of messy situations. I wasn’t the one who got fingered in a
supply closet. I was the one who gave my friends a safe, sober ride
home.

On the way out, I saw
the woman who’d driven me over. We were both headed toward the
front door. It looked like she was wiping back tears.

“You OK?” I asked,
seeing she clearly wasn’t.

“I’m heading out if
you want a ride.” Fueled by rage, she drove us home in about half
the time it took to head there earlier. Apparently the guy she’d
been hooking up with over the past week had a serious girlfriend, a
fact he’d failed to mention until she surprised him by showing up
at the party tonight.

I was sorry for her
hurt and pain, but it did come in handy that she was so caught up in
her own drama. She didn’t notice my own flush and agitation, or the
number of times I brought my hands up to cover my face and rub my
forehead. I could barely keep up with her as she strode into the
hotel, then hopped into the elevator.

“Thanks for the ride.
I’m sorry that happened.” I gave her a quick hug before stepping
out of the elevator at my floor.

“All men are
assholes!” she called out at the doors closed.

In my room, I ran the
tap water as cold as I could and took big, long gulps. In the mirror,
my lips were still swollen from Chase’s kisses. My neck looked pink
where he’d rubbed me with his stubble, grazed me with his teeth.
And as I looked at how he’d marked me, my nipples stiffened again
with arousal. The way he’d held me, torn into me like I was a feast
he’d been craving. I’d never felt so desired, so dangerously on
the edge of being entirely consumed.

The feel of him, those
hard-as-rock muscles rippling through his T-shirt, the flex of his
biceps, the way he’d talked to me, so dirty and sweet all at once.
I couldn’t help it. My fingers traveled their way down to finish
what he’d started. I was still so wet, soaked through my panties,
my clit swollen and aching for release.

He’d told me he
wanted to make me scream all night long. He was so driven, so
intense, the way he tore through the pool, the way he tore into me.
He’d be so relentless, fucking me, rough and hard over and over. I
came, harder than I thought I ever had in my life, standing there by
myself in the bathroom, rosy and glistening with sweat, my fingers
deep up inside my throbbing, wet pussy and Chase’s name on my
parted lips.

Chase

I could still feel Emma
on my fingers. She’d been so slick, dripping with desire. Now I
knew, without a doubt. She wanted me like I wanted her. That insane,
consuming inferno I felt all the time, melting down even the
strongest of firewalls? She had it burning inside of her, too.

Now that I knew that,
there was no turning back. The sounds she’d made in that closet? I
kept replaying them in my head as I headed back to my room. I thought
about heading over to hers. But I didn’t need to stalk her. I
didn’t need to rush her, either. It would happen. I was certain of
it.

So I didn’t stop by her room after
I got back from the restaurant, but I did send her a text:

Chase: Sorry that happened where it
did.

Not sorry it happened.

Can’t wait to see you again.

Will be thinking of you all night.

I didn’t hear back
from her, but I didn’t expect to. She’d left in a rush, upset. I
was pissed at myself that I’d put her in that situation. After all
my self-restraint, I’d impulsively hauled her into a closet in the
middle of a crowded restaurant. It wasn’t like me. I was used to
always staying in tight control, laser-focused on my goals. My
teammates teased me that I even scheduled my hook ups. And they were
kind of right about that. I knew when my schedule could tolerate a
night with more play and less sleep, and I knew when it couldn’t. I
didn’t have trouble with impulse control.

Except tonight. When
I’d walked in and seen Emma in that sexy, backless red shirt it was
like the wind got knocked out of me. I already found her insanely
hot, of course, but I’d never seen her dressed up before. She was a
fucking siren. Then seeing her with Chris’s hands all over her, I’d
nearly raced across the room like I parted the water swimming,
drilling a path through the crowd so I could kick his ass for
touching my woman.

Only she wasn’t my
woman, and Chris wasn’t doing anything wrong. He could talk to
anyone he liked. Even if every time he made her laugh it felt a hell
of a lot like a sharp needle sticking directly into my eye. I’d
kept my distance, just to be safe. I didn’t need to sock Chris in
the jaw a week and a half before the games. He might piss me off, but
he did not deserve that. So I stayed away.

Until I couldn’t any
longer. Watching her out on the dance floor, the way her body moved,
feeling the rhythm so instinctively, her hips swaying, her ass
shaking, that was it. There was no way I could stay away from her.
And once I had my hands on her, I knew there was no going back. Emma
and I belonged together.

But I’d keep that
fact to myself. For now. I could get a little intense, I knew that.
OK, more than a little.

For now, I’d let her
sleep the night alone. Then we only had one day left in San Antonio
together, and a whole weekend apart before we all re-convened for one
last week of training in Atlanta before flying to Rio. I’d give her
all the time and space she needed. But if those hot, quivering,
panting pleas she’d made in that supply closet told the truth—and
I knew they had—it wouldn’t take long for her to surrender.

§

The next morning, I had
to skip my usual appointment with Emma following my morning workout.
It was our last day in San Antonio, so our head coach called a team
meeting. The schedule for the whole day was all messed up, with a
later afternoon workout than usual and then a team dinner. Fuck
bonding, I wanted to see Emma.

As soon as I got out from the
meeting, I texted her.

Chase: Where are you?

Emma: At the pool.

What? I’d spent the
last three and a half hours at the pool and I hadn’t seen her once.
The morning she’d snuck in to watch me and sat on the bleachers I’d
spotted her instantly. She had a strong magnetic pull. I couldn’t
believe she was there and I hadn’t seen her.

But after some
fruitless pacing around the swim center, I realized what she meant.
She was at the hotel pool, that small, shallow thing where people
laid around in lounge chairs. Sometimes kids got into it wearing
flotation devices. A recreational pool. What a strange concept.

I strode over there and
found her. At 10 a.m. on a Thursday morning she had the pool to
herself. Or, I should say, we had it to ourselves. And she was
wearing a bikini.

I’d be lying if I
said seeing her lying there in next-to-nothing didn’t instantly
flood me with all sorts of nasty, dirty thoughts. Those long, shapely
legs, her smooth skin and those perfect breasts I’d had in my mouth
last night. The woman made me crazy.

Engrossed in reading,
she didn’t look up until I sat down on a lounger next to her.

“What are you
reading?”

“Oh, nothing.” She
closed the cover on her Kindle and set it under her chair.

“Was it a romance?”

“Maybe.” She
started laughing. That made me really want to know what she’d been
reading.

“Were you at a sex
scene?”

“I am not answering
that.” But she laughed some more. Excellent. I wanted her to have
sex on the brain as much as I did. Only that really wouldn’t be
possible, since I’d pretty much maxed out the potential time
devoted to the subject.

“Do you have some
time in your schedule right now?” She sat up in the lounge chair.
Yes, I liked that bikini a lot, simple and revealing and so easy to
unfasten. “I could work on you if you’re free. I thought you had
another workout now.”

“The schedule’s all
screwy today. I have another workout in 45 minutes, so why don’t we
just hang out.”

“Sorry, what was
that?”

I knew she was giving
me shit. I, Chase Carter, King of Swimming, did not just hang out.
She was right. But that’s exactly what I wanted to do right now,
because I wouldn’t be sitting around twiddling my thumbs. I’d be
spending time with Emma in a bikini and I honestly couldn’t imagine
anything I’d rather do. Except maybe spend time with her out of the
bikini.

“I thought you just
suggested we ‘hang out,’ like relax,” she continued with a
teasing lilt in her tone. “But I must have misheard you.”

“Are you sassing me,
Miss?”

“I would never do
that. I’m a professional.” But then, in the middle of our fun,
light banter, her face fell. Her features clouded with guilt. “Chase,
I need to talk to you about last night.”

“Emma—” I
started, wanting to reassure her, chase away whatever bad feelings
she was having about what had happened between us. There was nothing
bad about it, except where we’d chosen to do it.

“Let me,” she
insisted, taking a deep breath. “I just want you to know, you can
count on me to be professional with you, Chase. You need a good
physical therapist to see you through the games. I can do that. Even
though things got weird last night.”

I reached out and took
her hand. She stopped, looking at where we touched. “Things did not
get weird between us. Things got right.”

“We shouldn’t
have—”

“Emma, there’s what
should be, and there’s what is.” I looked into her eyes, wanting
her to not just listen but understand. But she was wearing
sunglasses, so it was hard to gauge her reaction. “Yes, it would be
less complicated if we didn’t feel this way. But we do.”

She swallowed and
nodded. “It’s complicated, though.”

“But it’s right.
I’m so glad I’ve met you. Even though the timing is crazy.”