In Deep: Chase & Emma (All In Book 1) (8 page)

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“You’re tense
tonight.” Emma worked on my shoulder, the one that had prevented me
from competing the last time around. I’d devoted so much time to
resting, then stretching and strengthening that shoulder. This
summer, it wouldn’t hold me back.

“Opening day is in 18
days. My first event is the day after.” These weren’t days made
for relaxation. I felt coiled like a snake waiting to strike.

“But you need to
relax so you have the energy to compete.”

“Relax,” I
repeated, as if never having heard the word before. She finished,
giving me one last stroke. Man, I loved the way she touched me. The
woman was magic.

“Yes, relax. It’s
this thing people do when they’re not working.” She headed into
the kitchen to wash the oil off her hands and get herself a bottle of
water. She came back with one for me, too.

“I’ve heard about
it.” I nodded, as if considering a strange, foreign concept.

“Seriously, how do
you unwind?”

“I pummel my body
into exhaustion and then I fall asleep,” I replied honestly. Sex,
too. That worked. But I edited that option out for her.

“Have you tried
yoga?”

What followed was a
ridiculous half hour. First, she modeled yoga poses with grace,
balance and insane flexibility. That part I really enjoyed, seeing
her twist her limbs into all sorts of contortions. Yes, we could have
a lot of fun, she and I.

But then the
ridiculousness would kick in, when she tried to guide me into the
same poses. In the water, I was Poseidon, king of the ocean. On land,
I was less agile. Balance was not my middle name. I felt like a big,
dumb oaf next to her, especially after she stood there holding a
perfect bow pose, arm extended, hand wrapped around her lifted ankle
as she balanced on one foot. I sure enjoyed watching her do that
pose. But me? Not going to happen.

Laughing as I tumbled
out of yet another failed attempt, she admitted defeat. For now.
“We’ll have to work on that,” she agreed.

“As long as you’re
the one teaching me, I’m all for it.”

She smiled, then looked
away, shyness overcoming her. As much as I loved it, watching a touch
of pink steal across her cheeks, I knew where it could lead. Any
second now she might pull away, pick herself up and head over to the
door to say goodnight. I needed to act fast.

I reached out and took
her hand. “Want to hang out and watch a movie?”

She pulled away, not
meeting my eye, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I should probably
go.”

No! “We could play a
game.”

“Do you have
Monopoly
lying around here somewhere?” She looked around my room, clearly
not believing my offer.

“I have a deck of
cards.” I stood up, wondering where they were. Or if I actually had
them. Maybe we could play poker? Strip poker.

“No strip poker.”

Damn it. “Want a
beer?” I headed for the kitchen.

“Are you drinking?”
she called after me.

Damn it again. This
close to the ultimate competition, the moment for which I’d been
preparing my entire life, no, I was not drinking. After the games,
hell yeah. But right now I was staying stone-cold sober.

“I’m going to have
another smoothie,” I admitted. So sexy. If I were James Bond I’d
be mixing an exotic and potent cocktail that would get her out of her
clothes in 60 seconds. But I was me, which meant I was making a
peanut butter chocolate shake.

“Ooh! Can I have
some?”

She came to join me and
I gave her a wink and a smile. “Do you just like me for my
smoothies?”

“Guilty as charged.”

I worked my magic. I’d
figured out how to pack nearly 1,000 calories into a shake. You could
do it if you substituted ice cream, chocolate syrup and whipped cream
for almond milk.

We settled together on
the couch, her sipping at a small glass, me chugging my gallon. I
really knew how to impress the ladies. Wiping any possible chocolate
mustache from my face, I turned to her.

“So, I’m not sure I
have a deck of cards. And I do not own
Monopoly
.
But we could always play truth or dare.”

“That’s a drinking
game.”

“I know. I’m sorry
I’m not drinking. I know I’m a buzz kill.”

“Are you kidding?”
She reached over and put a hand on my forearm. Her touch felt
electric. I wondered if she felt it, too. She swallowed, looked down
to where our skin touched, then removed her hand. Flustered, she
continued. “It’s a nice change of pace. I like to drink, but my
last boyfriend hit it pretty hard. It could get kind of scary.”

“Did he hurt you?”
I could go find him and hurt him if he had.

“No, it wasn’t like
that. He just got out of control. And he liked to fight.”

“Sounds like a great
guy.” I still might have to go find him and hurt him.

She shrugged. “When
he was sober and trying to impress me? Sure he was. It just took me a
while to see through it.”

Yes, I would have to
put that at the top of my post-Olympic to do list. Find Emma’s
former boyfriend and make him pay. The look of hurt, embarrassment
and maybe even shame that crossed her lovely face made my stomach
twist into a knot.

“Hey.” I stretched
my arm along the back of the couch, letting my fingers caress her
shoulder. “It’s not your fault that you wanted to believe in him.
It’s his fault for taking advantage of your trust.”

I must have said the
right thing because she brightened up, looking at me with gratitude.
“So you want to play truth or dare, huh?”

I nodded. Emphasis on
the dare. I had some great dares I’d like to try out on her.

“You’ll just choose
dare all the time.”

D’oh! She saw right
through me. “You might be right,” I admitted.

“OK, how about three
truths, then one dare?”

“One truth, one
dare,” I bargained.

“Two truths, one
dare,” she countered.

I took a moment to
consider her offer. “Done. I’ll start. What’s your favorite
part of your job?”

“That’s easy,”
she replied straight away. “Making people happy.”

“Happy? Not healthy?”
She was a healthcare professional after all.

“They’re pretty
tightly connected,” she reflected. “When you’re in pain and
feeling awful physically, it’s hard to feel happy. I love easing
people’s stress and injuries. It’s like giving them a window into
a whole other way to live.”

And just like that, I
fell for her even harder. She was such a good person. “That’s
cool.” I got even more eloquent when I felt something deeply.

“Thanks. Now it’s
my turn. What’s the hardest part of training?”

“Holding back.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You have to
learn such discipline, how to go at just 60 percent, 80 percent. I’m
all about adrenaline, pushing myself to the wall and past.”

“That’s…a little
crazy.”

“Yeah, of course it
is. All top competitors are off their rockers, didn’t you know
that?” I gave her a crazy smile and got one in return. “I’ll
tell you what my favorite week is. Altitude training. We do it up in
Colorado and at first you feel like you’ve got lead weights tied to
your lungs. It’s awesome.”

“Sounds it,” she
agreed with heavy sarcasm dripping from her words.

“Now I get to ask
another truth. What’s your favorite sexual position?”

“Oh my God.” She
buried her face in her hands.

“You have to answer.
It’s the rules of the game. I’ve asked you a truth.”

“OK, truth?” She
exhaled and seemed to muster up her strength to answer me. “I don’t
think I’ve found it yet. But I would like to.”

Was she trying to kill
me? The sexual tension was already so thick you could cut it with a
knife. Well, someone had to tease her about what she’d said. Guess
that would be me.

“It might take a lot
of experimentation,” I started. “You’d have to test out all the
options.” She laughed, a nice blush covering her cheeks. I loved
watching her squirm. “You’d need a partner who’d be fully
committed to the process. Someone who could give it his all. It could
take a long, long time to really discover the best of all possible
answers.”

“OK,” she stopped
me, fanning herself, looking out of breath. “Now I get to ask you a
question. Why did you start swimming again after you almost drowned?”

I sighed, all the wind
leaving my sails. I guess part of me had figured she would go there.
She obviously knew about the accident. She’d asked me about it last
night. I’d learned long ago that the more you tried to keep
something quiet, the more people wanted to know what happened. The
thing was, what happened that night wasn’t really my story to tell.
There’d been four of us out there, and everyone involved had signed
non-disclosure agreements so air-tight I half expected a SWAT team to
descend upon me if I ever even thought about violating it. But I
guessed I could talk about what happened afterward, for me.

“You don’t have to
answer that question if you don’t want to,” she murmured.

My extended silence
must have communicated my reluctance. “No, it’s OK. I just don’t
talk about it much.” Nearly drowning in the middle of the ocean was
the most terrifying thing I’ve ever experienced. Over ten years
later I still had nightmares about the cold, dark waves clutching at
me like icy hands. If it hadn’t been for Liam, I’d have died.

“After the accident,
I was in the hospital for a couple weeks. I couldn’t sleep through
the night for a few months. It made me really angry, like the water
had gotten the best of me. I had to prove that I was stronger.”

“Stronger than the
ocean?”

“That’s right.” I
looked at her to see if she was laughing. I knew it sounded crazy.
But she wasn’t. She was looking at me with a mixture of fascination
and admiration, and it helped me keep talking about something I never
discussed.

“I guess I felt like
I had to crush the fear or it would crush me.”

“Was it scary,
getting back in the water?”

Fucking terrifying. But
that felt like too much to talk about. I wasn’t ready for a
full-scale psychiatric analysis. “That’s a second question, Emma.
It’s time for a dare.”

Her eyes got wide. I
smiled at her. “I dare you to kiss me.”

“What?” She looked
so good, so nervous and eager at the same time, like she was torn
between wanting to bolt and throw herself at me. I’d see what I
could do about making the second one happen.

“You heard me. I
won’t bite. Unless you like that.”

“Chase!”

I gave her a wolfish
smile. “Come on. Are you scared?”

“Yes.” She looked
scared.

“It can be quick.
Here.” I pointed to my cheek.

Slowly she leaned in.
She came close enough that I could feel her soft breasts grazing my
chest. It took all my willpower to restrain myself and sit there, not
moving, letting her do this the way she wanted.

She stopped before she
got up to my cheek. Dipping her lips to my neck, she kissed me there.
I nearly lost it. I groaned it felt so good, sweet and brief but the
feel of her touch lingered.

She sat back, breathing
faster. Heat in my eyes, I sat still, burning up, waiting to see what
she’d dare me. She bit her lip and sat there. What would she say?

“Fuck it!” She
closed the distance between us, climbed into my lap and threw her
arms around my neck. I was down on her in an instant, devouring her
lips, tasting her with my tongue hot and wet as she made sounds so
eager and desiring, purring with pleasure. She fit against me
perfectly.

She tensed as I started
to take off her shirt. I pulled it down again. She wanted to go slow.
I could go slow. Right? Couldn’t I?

“I’ll just kiss
you,” I reassured her, kissing her throat, her eyelids, her lips.
Her breasts were so perfect, such plump, round, gorgeous mounds, it
took everything I had to keep my hands around her trim waist, fingers
stroking but staying away, holding her, just holding. Even though her
nipples stood out in two hard points of arousal, begging for my
touch.

“I shouldn’t have
done that.” She broke away, nearly throwing herself off the couch
to stand several feet away. I looked at her, panting. “I should
go.”

“Emma.” I didn’t
move to stop her. She had to do what she had to do. But I didn’t
want her to leave.

“I’m sorry, Chase.”
She brought her hands up over her face. This wasn’t supposed to be
so complicated. “I don’t mean to be melodramatic.”

And then she left. How
was that for drama? First, she leapt into my lap, and then she ran
out slamming the door behind her.

I punched my fist into
the couch pillow in frustration. Had I done something to frighten her
off? I’d held back, hadn’t I?

I was so wound up as I
headed into the shower. I pictured her, of course I did, as I took
myself in my hand. Stroking my thick, hard cock, I closed my eyes and
remembered the feel of her lips, the sweet sounds of her desire. I
wanted to consume her. I wanted to fuck her again and again and never
come up for air. I could feel it, how good it would be to bury myself
deep inside of her. She’d look so gorgeous, screaming with pleasure
as I filled her to the hilt. I came with her name on my lips. And it
only made me want her more.

Emma

“Too much? Or just
right?” Megan, one of the many non-swimming professionals working
with the team, twirled around in front of me in a barely-there mini
dress.

“You look amazing.”
I chose an honest answer, and the one I could give, because I really
didn’t know how comfortable she’d feel wearing something like
that out to a Mexican restaurant. It would fit right in dancing all
night at a hot club. Ordering tacos? I wasn’t so sure. But, then
again, if it were up to me I might wear athletic clothes 24/7, so I
might not be the best judge.