Page 65 of Chasin’s Surrender

God, he’s infuriating.

“You know I just fired my manager today. It’s going to cost me a bloody fortune to fight her when she tries to sue me, and she will because I make her a shit ton of money. I’m also exhausted from having to play the part of bitchy, country music star, Vivi Rush. That shit is always draining, but after I’ve had weeks of being myself, stepping back in those shoes sucks. I also might have just fucked my career up. Never mind it’s a career I’m fairly certain I no longer want, but I still can’t afford to have it jacked up until I have something else in its place. So with all of that, is it possible you could cut me some slack?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Nope. I told you I’m not giving you the chance to hide from me. When you’re pissed and on a tear, you’ll give me these tiny pieces of you. But when you’re done ranting you immediately try to hide. The answer is no, and will continue to be no. Let’s finish our conversation from earlier. You were getting ready to tell me you weren’t sure about something.”

I was getting emotional whiplash. Chasin was digging in—again—and I wasn’t ready to spill all of my baggage at his feet.

“Aren’t you tired of my shit yet?”

My mind was awhirl with a bunch of crap as it all mixed together in a battle for supremacy. It was a toss-up which part of my fucked-up life would successfully get me locked up in a nut hut. I was thinking that the crazy parts that involved Chasin were going to win.

If I had whiplash, he had to be on the verge of drowning himself in the bathtub.

I was behaving like a crazy person and it was to the point I was beyond embarrassed. So with all of that swirling around, I missed his approach. But I didn’t miss his arms when they went around me and pulled me close.

“Not even a little bit.”

“And here I was worried that I was the one on the verge of being committed. But now I see you’re the one that’s nuts. No sane, rational person would…” I trailed off when I felt his body start to shake. “Are you laughing?”

“Fuck, yeah.” He chuckled.

“What’s funny?”

“You are.”

“I’m being serious. I’m completely ridiculous.”

One of Chasin’s arms unwrapped from around my waist, trailed up my back, then curled around the back of my neck. His other stayed where it was and tightened. His lips crashed onto mine, his tongue pushed in. Wet, deep, and hard.

Just like the first time he kissed me and all the ones that followed, I was swept away in a maelstrom of sensations. Kissing Chasin was a full-body experience. I tingled everywhere—from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, I was on fire.

Branded.

Claimed.

I guess Chasin didn’t think I was all that ridiculous.

Good to know.

19

Fucking finally.

That was Chasin’s first thought when his mouth hit Genevieve’s. Then all thoughts fled as his hand on the back of her neck moved and fisted her hair, taking an already deep kiss deeper. He couldn’t get enough. She gave and he took, until his dick trapped between them jerked when she started to hum. He was familiar with that sound, loved hearing it, feeling the vibration as it worked its way from her chest until he could taste the tremor of excitement. As much as he loved her taste, her feel, that sound told Chasin she was nearing her tipping point. Clothes would start disappearing and she’d find herself on her back in his bed if he didn’t end the kiss.

With a slow glide of his tongue over her bottom lip, he pulled back and opened his eyes just in time to watch her do the same. Dazed, languid, hungry. Christ, she was beautiful.

His hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb brushed her bruised lip, wiping away the evidence of their kiss.

“Chasin.”

His hips automatically flexed when he heard the needy whine.

“Later, Evie.”