Page 100 of Chasin’s Surrender

“How is that possible?” Chasin asked. “It’s only been an hour.”

“You still okay I didn’t ask first?” Evie whispered.

“You love me?”

“Well…yeah.”

“Then I don’t care you told one-point-four million people. And I don’t give the first fuck if five million more see it.”

“That’s good, because her videos on YouTube typically get about eight million views,” Bobby rejoined. “Colleen texted. She’s thrilled. There’s a clip of you staring off-camera, and since you told everyone your man was there watching you, people put two and two together and have shared the clip with the caption, ‘Vivi Rush’s love face.’”

“Someone’ll turn it into a meme, I’m sure,” Evie said.

Christ. Chasin had no idea. None at all, that his Evie was as big as she was. He knew, but he hadn’t known. Not until it was in his face, and the magnitude of what she was considering giving up slapped him in the face.

The tiny ball she’d obliterated was now a boulder sitting heavy in his gut.

Fucking shit.

28

“Honey,” I whimpered.

Chasin ignored my whine and continued his slow, torturous pace.

I needed more.

“Faster.”

“Slow, baby.”

I was on my back, face buried in his neck, my legs wrapped around his thighs. I had one arm slanted across his back, my hand below his shoulder, my other one was on his ass trying to get him to go faster. He was up on his forearm in an effort to take most of his weight, but also using it as leverage to rock into me. Smooth, firm glides. Not soft—powerful, but still achingly slow. His other hand cupped my breast, his thumb toyed with my nipple, and every couple of strokes he’d pinch and roll it until my back arched off the bed. Then he’d release it and go back to strumming.

I was on the edge.

He was killing me.

I shouldn’t be complaining—slow, fast, rough, or sweet, Chasin always made it good. No, scratch that, he made it phenomenal. Even when he was rough, he was sweet. But for the last three days, since I’d made a very public declaration I was in love with him, all he’d given me was slow and sweet.

It was fantastic, but I was beginning to worry there was something wrong. I had no reason to believe this, Chasin was Chasin. Strong, steady, protective, he made me laugh, he let me make him laugh. It was all good, but I was still worried. I was buying trouble and I knew it. That was what I did.

His hand left my breast and he wasted no time honing in on my clit—soft flicks, too soft.

“Chasin, honey, I need—”

“I know what you need, baby.”

He refused to be rushed. I was teetering so close. My hips lifted to meet his, my nails dug into his ass harder, and I reached for it.

So close.

His thumb worked my clit faster, harder, so, so close.

“Hold on tight, Evie.”

“I am,” I panted and held on tighter.

“Never letting you go.”