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I groan before rolling over and sitting up on the edge of the bed. Fuck it. Once I express my feelings for him, it won’t be an issue. I’ve seen the lustful looks when he thinks I’m not paying attention. Hell, Carter all but gave me his approval with his threat earlier.
I plan on confessing my feelings to Chase tonight, tomorrow at the latest. By the end of the weekend before we leave, without a doubt.
I rake my hands through my hair in frustration, tugging on the ends, before standing and leaving the room to head to the kitchen to put the groceries away.
I’m such a fucking pussy. When have I ever had a problem telling any guy or girl I’m interested in them? In the beginning, it was fear that kept me silent, but once I shared my sexuality with the twins, I jumped in head first. Even when I was navigating the newfound knowledge of my sexuality, having experiences with both sexes, I never had an issue expressing my feelings, but Chase does something to me that has me all tied up in knots. He gets me in a way no other person has. It’s as if I can be my authentic self with him. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s hot as hell and my very own wet dream come to life.
I’m thoroughly trashed. We hopped to a few different bars with some locals until we made it to the Bottoms Up—our current location. We thought it was a strip club at first, but nope, just a hole in the wall place. There are so many people crammed in here it’s hard to move, so Chase and I found a spot at the end of the bar where we’ve been drinking all night while Carter’s on the prowl.
Our shoulders are barely touching, and my body is thrumming with need—no, want. I’m having to fight to control the raging boner I’m trying to sport as the alcohol is driving me to act on my desire.
“You ready to get out of here, man?” He leans into me, his warm breath trailing along my neck, sending shivers down my body, his voice raspy from the alcohol he’s been drinking.
Looking around the bar, I spot Carter holed up at a corner table surrounded by women.
“Yeah man, I’m beat, but by the looks of your brother, he’s still ready to party.”
He shifts on the bar stool to look back in the direction I nodded in. “He’s a big boy and has the car keys. I'm sure he plans on bringing a couple of them home. I have the spare house key, so I’m going to order a Lyft—I'm ready to go. You can stay if you like,” he tells me, slapping my shoulder as he stands up. He pulls out his wallet, drops some cash on the bar, and places his empty glass on top of it.
“Nah man, I’m coming with you.” When I go to stand, the alcohol immediately hits me, causing me to sway and fall into Chase, who wraps his arms around me.
Fuck, they feel so good. His touch is addictive and I’m begging for more.
As we head outside, Chase already has his phone out. I peer over his shoulder and see he’s messaging Carter. Since he’s busy, and I don’t want to wait any longer, I pull mine out and order the Lyft.
“I’m getting our ride,” I let him know, having to brace myself on the wall when we get outside to stop swaying long enough to enter the information for our pickup and drop off.
“Thanks, man. I don’t know what they put in their drinks here, but I’m seeing three or four of everything and can barely stand upright.”
“Got to agree with you there, Chase,” I tell him just as my phone pings in my hand. Looking down, I see it's the Lyft app letting me know the driver’s on his way. Now that was quick.
“Looks like our ride’s only a couple minutes away. It must be our lucky night.”
Five minutes later, a blue sedan pulls up with a driver that matches the picture on the app. I open the door and slide in first, only making it halfway across the back seat. Chase gets in after me and we’re sitting shoulder to shoulder. I can’t seem to make my body move any further over.
Chase doesn’t seem to mind how close we’re sitting or how I let the tips of my fingers glide across the edge of his thigh when I run my hands up and down my leg. The only sign that it’s affecting him is the clenching and unclenching of his hands as he sharply inhales. Each time he does, my cock presses more against my pants and my need to have him increases.
The ride seems to take forever. The longer we sit still during the drive back, the more time the alcohol has to take effect. By the time we pull in front of our cabin, we can barely walk. We manage to get out of the car without face-planting on the ground and stumble up the drive to the front door, where Chase begins fighting a hopeless battle trying to get the house key into the lock.
“Here, let me help you,” I slur, reaching out, and taking his hand in mine to grab the key. His hand feels so good that I don’t want to let go. They have a roughness to them, much like mine, and it’s a hearty change to the delicate feminine touch of a woman. He must notice how long I’ve held onto him as he pulls his hand free, releasing the key in my palm.
“Hopefully your drunk ass does a better job than me,” he jokes, and damn, those dimples kill me as those full pink lips I dream of having wrapped around my cock smirk at me.
I tear myself away from exploring him, dreaming of him, and turn back to the door, slipping the key into the lock and opening it. I’ve suddenly sobered up. It’s now, tonight, I have to tell him. He needs to know what he does to me, how he drives me insane, and lastly, how I need him. The sweet, loving, brainy Chase I’ve grown to love. The man who would give his last dollar to help a struggling mother buy diapers, or his jacket to the homeless man on the street who’s freezing.
Once inside the house, he heads down the hallway to the bedroom while I lock the door, unsure if Carter plans to bring his flavor of the night home or go to their place.
I take a deep breath in, knowing I now have to go sleep in a bed beside the man I’ve been crushing over. Heading down the hallway, I imagine the possibilities of what can happen on this trip.
Chapter 3
Chase
I hurry to the room after Blake opens the door, trying to hide the enormous bulge in my pants. Just the mere touch of his hand on mine and the way he looks at me like he sees the true me turns me on. I want him—no, I need him, but there is no way he feels the same.
I make my way over and sit on the edge of the bed, taking off my shoes and willing my dick to go limp, with no success.
I begin softly talking out loud, giving myself a pep talk.
