LUST: A Bad Boy and Amish Girl Romance (The Brody Bunch Book 2) (50 page)

E
ven as Chase
leads me by the lips, his urgent kisses pushing me backward towards what I assume is his bedroom, I have a feeling I'm making a mistake. A deliciously wonderful mistake, if the skill of his lips are any indication of things to come, but a mistake nonetheless.

But I don't care.

His hands reach up and grasp my breasts through my thin blouse and I let out a moan into his mouth just as we cross through the doorway. The stubble of his face burns across my chin with a pleasurable tingle, providing me with an unnecessary reminder of his masculinity. There's a much more obvious reminder of that pressing against my hip, and it's something I'm much more excited about at the moment.

Chase groans back at me as my fingers lightly trace along the outline of his cock, pressing just hard enough against his pants so that he notices my interest.

"Get on the bed," he growls, his mouth finally disengaging from mine. My tongue misses its partner immediately but I do as he says and slide on my knees against the soft linen. I honestly had no intention of doing this when I left with him, but it's like he knew the instant I changed my mind and pounced. Now I can't wait to feel his body against mine.

"Take your clothes off, Lila," he says, his tone dominant yet a flicker of playfulness behind his eyes is enough to reassure me again that he's not a lunatic. It helps that now that I've decided to do this, I want it just as much as he does.

"Your clothes," he insists again after I pause just a moment too long. I start to pull them off quickly now and watch as his greedy eyes take in every inch of flesh as it's exposed.

"You're so fucking hot." He says it with such conviction that I actually believe him. Harrison rarely paid me a compliment that wasn't a preface for a favor.

"After kissing your lips I have to taste the rest of you." He pushes me back against the sheets, my legs spreading before him without a hint of my usual embarrassment. I need to feel his lips and tongue on me now. I can't even think of anything else.

Chase only hesitates long enough to shuck his own shirt to the floor before his head dips between my knees, lowering himself to my hot core. I feel his tongue first, running wetly along the sides of my pussy before sliding up against my clit. He draws two wet circles around it and then I arch my back as his lips fasten onto it. "Yes," I gasp. "Right there. Lick my clit." There's no reason to hold back at this point. I want to forget Harrison and everything to do with him for a little while, and an orgasm seems like the perfect distraction.

For his part, Chase knows exactly what he's doing. His mouth is applying just the right amount of pressure as his hands ease my thighs apart, giving him deeper access to my sensitive folds. He's lapping enthusiastically against my wetness in a practiced way that has me on the edge of an orgasm faster than I ever remember getting there.

As the pleasure builds, one of his hands leaves my thigh and skims along my skin until it finds one of my swollen nipples. His first squeeze is enough to throw me over the edge. My own hands slide into his short blond hair, grabbing the roots and grinding him harder into my lusty center to intensify the electricity that is already coursing through me. I let out a shameless scream, the only outlet the pleasure has to escape my body.

Chase doesn't stop until I literally have to push him away.

I watch with breathless anticipation as he stands and walks over to his nightstand, opening it and fishing out a familiar tin foil wrapper. His back is covered in tattoos which ripple as the muscles beneath them move. It's sexy as hell, and only intensifies the desire I have for him. All I can think about is how I just want him to hurry up. It's been so long. I need to feel his cock now. It's the only way to complete the act we'd started. The orgasm by his mouth had been wonderful, but it left me with a burning hunger to be filled.

I watch as he sheds the rest of his clothes and slips the condom over his thick cock. I can feel my tongue slip involuntarily between my lips and wet them as I gaze down at it. Just another piece of perfection that makes up the man named Chase Anderson. Just another way he differs from Harry. When I look up at his face, he's watching me with a little half smile on his face.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Lila," he growls. I can feel the same need in his voice that I feel inside of myself.

"Please," I beg. I can't wait anymore.

He closes the gap between us in an instant, his body leaning forward across the bed until it drapes over mine and I feel the tip of him press hotly against my entrance. His forehead touches mine and his deep blue eyes gaze at me. As emotionless as his face was at the poker table, it's filled with expression now. There's no doubt Chase feels the same desire that I do.

I wrap my hands around his body, finding his firm ass and pulling him forward. "Please," I repeat softly.
Enough waiting.

A groan escapes me as he finally sinks deeply into my folds. No more words are needed, only actions. Chase thrusts into me, again and again as my fingers rake along his back with an urgency born from my desire not only to be filled, but to lose myself in the moment and forget Harrison and the fact that I don't know what I'm going to do with myself until Monday.

In both cases, I'm left satisfied as Chase continues to slam his hips into mine, rocking away any excess thoughts and worries I have left. By the time I feel him stiffen and shudder with his release, I've already come again myself and I'm too exhausted to form any coherent thoughts.

"
S
o
, Lila, do you have a last name?" Chase's hand feels hot as it rests on my thigh. We've kicked the sheets off the bed, but I'm still sweating from our session.

"Hunter," I respond lazily. I move one of my hands over to his leg as well, resting it against the thin hairs that run along his muscled flesh. It's not the first time I've had sex with someone who doesn't even know my last name, but I don't make it a habit.

"Hunter," he repeats. "Where's home, Lila Hunter?"

"Canada."

"Canada?" There's a question in his tone which bristles me for some reason.

"You must have heard of it, big neighbor to the north? Free health care, not as many guns?"

"I'm very familiar with it," he says. I can hear the smile on his face even without looking up at him. "I just mean, where in Canada?"

Now I'm the one surprised. He isn't Canadian as well, is he?

"Near Toronto," I reply, unwilling to be more specific yet. I turn my gaze to look at my hand. His cock is laying against his leg, close to my fingertips. I'm tempted to reach out and a run my fingers along it, our session a few minutes ago left me both satisfied and wanting more, but I hold back. This is supposed to be a one night stand and I need to keep it that way. I don't need to get involved with another guy with a gambling problem, which means I need to make sure I won't run into him again.

"So, not too far from Niagara Falls," Chase remarks. "I've been to Canada a few times. Either there or Montreal."

Niagara Falls or Montreal? Of course. The casinos. So almost definitely a degenerate gambler, but at least he doesn't live anywhere near me. I reach my hand out and touch the underside of his cock, letting my fingers slowly drag along his length and smile as I see it twitch in response.

"Where do you live?" I ask, only half paying attention now that I have another goal in mind.

"Here."

I look up at him with a raised eyebrow. "In this hotel? This room?"

Chase laughs, a deep full sound that fills the room. "Sometimes it seems like it, but no. I mean Vegas."

"Oh... right..." I turn my attention back to his cock which has begun to harden slightly. I'm considering how best to use it next.

"So you gamble a lot?"

"Depends on how you define gambling, I guess."

My hand has closed around his thickness by now, and I'm running it up and down from tip to root, marveling at how thick it is even now before it's fully hard, but again his words pull my attention away.

"What do you mean? How many ways are there to define it?" Despite their many differences, that statement reminds me of Harrison, always justifying his addiction with crazy excuses. I'm mentally prepared to hear something familiar, intentionally ignoring the warning bells that have begun to ring in my head.
He's not my boyfriend. He's just a fling.
Like the song says,
We're here for a good time, not a long time.

"Gambling implies chance, as in, the chance that you'll lose. I don't lose. I don't play games of chance. I play games of skill, or games where I know ahead of time that I'll win. I leave gambling for the tourists and the addicts."

He's looking at me seriously now, as if he believes what he's saying. "Isn't that what all gamblers tell themselves? They can't lose. Everyone else loses, just not me?" I've loosened my grip on him now, my hand being tickled by the coarse hair around the base of his shaft. Harrison always believed he was going to win. That he was
due
.

Chase shakes his head and shrugs. "People tell themselves a lot of things, and then they go and throw money on the roll of a die or the turn of a wheel. They try to anticipate the next card out of a five deck shoe or find the slot machine that's primed to pay off. That's gambling. Poker is a skill. It's about math and it's about paying attention. Most of all it's about reading emotion and knowing people."

"And you're an expert on people, are you?"

He smiles that little half smile that makes him look like he knows something important. It's cute, but infuriating at the same time. I feel his hand reach down and close around mine, which in turn closes around his cock again. "You're here, aren't you?"

"I don't have to be," I bite back. I give a little tug of my hand as if to pull away, but he holds me firmly. The hotness of his cock feels like it's burning my palm.

"My point is only that I could see that you and your boyfriend weren't happy. That he didn't value you. I gave you an out by showing you who he really was."

"Ex-boyfriend," I amend. "I don't cheat on the men in my life. Harrison became my ex as soon as he agreed to put me on the poker table."

"Ex," Chase nods.

"Well, I guess you were right about that, anyway," I concede. "Whether you really know people or whether that was just a lucky guess, I'm still not sure."

Chase looks at me with that little half smile again, as if my skepticism amuses him.

"What?"

"You really don't know who I am, do you?"

I shrug. "Should I?"

He's quiet for a moment as he watches me, but then changes the subject. "So what is it that you do, Lila Hunter from Canada?"

I can't help but sigh at the question. I hate when people ask me, only because I don't feel like I've really accomplished what I want yet. "I'm between jobs at the moment. I was working at a non-profit for a little while, helping raise money for local shelters."

"Sounds admirable. Why'd you leave?"

"Well, it seemed like the right thing to do when the news came out that the people running it weren't really taking the non-profit part of the job very seriously. They were funneling more money off shore than ever made it to the shelters."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

"So you lose your job and decide to come to Vegas to try to win next month's rent, is that it?"

I squint at him, unsure if he's teasing. "Coming to Vegas was Harrison's idea. He paid for the whole trip. Trust me, I'd rather be at home sending out resumes."

Chase nods, looking satisfied with my answer. "More non-profits?"

I shrug. "Maybe not, but something similar. Something where I feel like I can help people. I went to school for social work, but I haven't figured out what I want to focus on, exactly."

"The world needs a lot of help," he nods.

"Is your boyfriend in the same line of work? Sorry. Ex-boyfriend?"

I shake my head. The only person Harrison ever wants to help is himself, and the question is just another example of Harry and I being so completely different. I don't need another reminder of that. It's time to move on.

"I don't want to talk about Harrison," I say, turning my focus back between his legs. Chase can believe what he wants, but I know the truth. Anyone who gambles eventually loses everything. But I don't care. I'm not getting involved. I'm just here to take my mind off of Harry and Chase has something that I know will do the trick.

"Good," Chase says, his voice getting lower. "I have something much better in mind for that pretty mouth of yours anyway." He pulls on my arm and I lean forward onto my hands and knees, crawling forward between his legs.

I know exactly what he has in mind, and we're in complete agreement.

"
S
uck my cock
, Lila," he growls. My mouth is already full of him, so I take it as a request to go deeper. I reach under my chin for his heavy balls, rolling them in my hand as my mouth slurps in as much of him as I can fit.

"Holy shit, Lila."

I'd smile if I could, but settle for just humming an acknowledgment since I know that will add to his pleasure. He has a beautiful cock, but as much as I would love for him to come down my throat right now, I need him to fuck me again instead. That's the release I need at the moment, which means this act is just a means to an end. Much like my entire motivation for being in this room in the first place.

"That's so fucking good," he groans. "My god..."

His hips are starting to move and his hands have slid into my hair, so I know it's time to stop before he gets carried away.

"Fuck me, Chase," I say when my mouth is free of him. "I need you to fuck me as hard as you can, okay?"

Our eyes meet and I can tell he knows I'm serious, can read the desire from my gaze or hear it in the quiver of my voice. In a moment our positions are reversed and he's on top of me, reaching across to the side table to grab a condom.

I pull the wrapper from him and tear it open, sliding it along his hardness and pulling him forward much faster than he would have been able to do on his own. In moments I'm filled with him again, and my hands and nails are digging into his muscled back, urging him forward as fast and as hard as he can manage.

Chase responds in the way I need, thrusting into my core while my cries of ecstasy urge him forward.

"You're so fucking hot," he pants. "I love how much you want me."

I can't remember needing a fuck as badly as I do right now, and Chase's cock is more than enough to satisfy my craving. Sex with Harrison had always been okay, but never so powerful. Never as animalistic. I rarely came from Harry's cock alone, but now I'm on the verge of my second orgasm from Chase. Part of it is probably just situational. Something about the almost anonymity of this gorgeous sort-of-maybe-famous stranger with the thick and heavy dick pounding into me. I can't discount that. But there's another part of it. Chase is sensual. Powerful. Something in his eyes and his little half smile.

It probably gets him laid all the time.

"Fuck," I breathe heavily into his shoulder as he pushes so deeply into me that he hits a spot that hasn't been stimulated in months.

"So tight," he groans back. I imagine everyone seems tight around the monster he's packing. My nails dig harder into his back and he lets out an even louder noise.

"Fucking come," I whisper. "I want you to come." My own orgasm is on me as my eyes roll back into my head. Waves of pleasure rock through my body and all I want is for Chase to join me in his own hot release. I squeeze tightly around the fleshy intruder between my legs, pulling him forward with my legs around his back.

Chase responds, his tattooed back stiffening with tension even as his cock releases spasms of sexual fury inside of me.

The weight of him as he collapses down in exhaustion is a welcome shield to the emotion beginning to well up inside of me. I've let the sex and Chase and this hotel room and everything else distract me, but I can't ignore the feelings any more. It's one thing to know that my relationship with Harrison is finally over officially, after all I haven't been blind to its looming demise hovering over us for weeks, but it was another to see how callously he cast me aside on a whim. Obviously the choice to follow Chase up here was mine, despite what was agreed upon by the men at the table, but just the fact that Harry would even offer me up like that was devastating.

I bury my face against Chase's shoulder, hoping to hide the tears. He stiffens again, and then pulls me closer into a tight embrace, as if knowing exactly what I'm feeling. Maybe he felt the wetness against his skin, or the gasp in my breath as I tried to hold in a sob. In any case, he understands what I need and I'm grateful not to have to hide it anymore, so I bite back any shame I'm feeling at breaking down so completely and begin to sob. My chest heaves and I gasp, letting the tears run down my face until they meet his skin, the contours of his muscled shoulder carrying them away. In response, Chase only wraps his warm embrace around me even tighter without saying a word.

He lets me cry for a while, holding me against him and running his hand up and down my back and through my hair. It's peaceful, and feels more intimate than it should, given I just met the guy an hour ago. More intimate, even, than the sex. But it's what I need, and he seems to know it.

That cry was born of more than just tonight. Frustration over the last few weeks, months even, knowing that the end was coming. Harrison and I had a relationship like the final firework on the fourth of July. Hot flame started us off and we shot high, and the big explosion made us feel wide eyed and happy. But as soon as it started to fade, disappointment settled in. For me, at least. I kept waiting. Looking around for more explosions of passion that never came, trying desperately to replace the memory burned into my head of what was.

Tonight is me finally realizing that the show is over, and I'm not interested in sitting through the next show. I don't want another one time explosion of passion that I'll have to try to cling to for months.

Chase's hand rests on my back, no longer running up and down my skin. The sound and rhythm of his breathing tells me he's asleep. He held onto consciousness long enough to wait for me to stop sobbing before letting himself fall asleep. He might not be as much of an ass as I first thought, but he's still just a rebound. A convenient distraction from my immediate pain. In some ways it would have been easier if he was an ass.

He's still cocky, though. He still made a gamble to get me up here, and like a fool I went for it anyway.

I should leave now, but my eyes are heavy and I really have nowhere else to go. I repeatedly promised I wouldn't sleep with Chase, but actual sleep seems pretty tame compared to what we just finished doing.

But in the morning I really need to get the hell out of here.