Page 28 of Say You Swear


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It’s a touch of curiosity.

It’s him exploring the feeling of my skin against his.

It’s as thrilling as it is shocking.

His body lowers, the heat of him hovering over me, and I swallow.

I attempt shifting, a desperate need to face him washing over me, but he doesn’t allow it. His forehead meets my back in the space between my shoulder blades, and he gently shakes his head back and forth.

His hair tickles at the base of my neck, and I shiver beneath him. My lungs expand, starved, and I drag a choppy breath through my nostrils, one that’s forced right back out when warm, wet lips meet my spine.

My eyes flutter closed, and then another kiss falls.

“Chase,” I pretty much moan, gasping when his lips find my ear.

“Shh…” he croons, his nose gliding along my jaw. “Tell me to stop. I don’t know what I’m doing…”

“You’re doing great.”

His body shakes with a low chuckle, and then his hands are on my side, slowly gliding up until the edges of his fingers meet the edges of my breasts.

He twitches, and then his hands fly back, off of me completely.

I use that to my advantage, quickly flipping under him, my bare chest now hidden beneath his loose shirt.

He wasn’t expecting it, and his eyes snap wide.

Chase begins shaking his head, a flash of panic falling over him, so I offer a small smile.

Please don’t run…

His brows cave in as he contemplates how we got here, so I give him a gentle push disguised as a yield.

I drop my head back, this time straight to the carpet, leaving the pillow beside me, and stretch my chin the slightest bit to expose my neck, leaving it up to him to decide what to do with it, if anything.

His Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow, and after a moment’s hesitation, he drops his face into the crook of my neck.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, the heat of his breath working on its own and creating an ache between my legs, but then he pulls in a long breath.

I twitch when his tongue meets my skin, tasting as his lips press against my collarbone.

Quickly, before he has time to object, I push my palms under his shirt and my insides twist as my hands meet his abs.

I’ve stared at his muscles hundreds of times, imagined exploring them thousands, but I’m not sure I believed I’d ever get the chance to freely learn their cuts with my own touch.

Chase pulls back, just enough to meet my eyes, and wears the same tense expression as before.

Still, I smirk as if to say I dare you to follow my lead as it’s clear he’s battling himself on the inside, trying to decide what’s okay and what’s not. What’s right or wrong. What he bases his decisions on, I have no idea, but I help him out by taking one of his hands in mine and placing it at the curve of my left ribs, just below my breast. I leave it up to him to decide what he wants from there, while pleading with my eyes for him to touch me.

He drops his mouth to my ear, whispering, “You can’t look at me like that. I’m trying to—”

“Stop trying. Whatever it is, just… stop.”

He chuckles, but his frown comes back quickly, and at the speed of a snail, he glides his hand up the tiniest bit. My breathing speeds up, and I run my hands from his abs to his back, pulling him into me.

His thumb meets the swell of my breast and my lips part with a low whimper.

Unfortunately, the second the sound leaves me, Chase’s eyes grow wide, his hands fly from my body, and he quickly falls to the space beside me.

Unable to meet my gaze, he hands me my shirt, slowly removing himself from under the cover, but I get angry, and sit up, letting the thing fall around my waist.

Brady’s still facing the cushions, so I pretend I don’t give a shit if anyone comes in and slowly pull my shirt over my head.

I jump to my feet, my bare feet slapping against the hardwood on my way to the kitchen.

I yank water from the fridge and when I close it, Chase’s right there, frown in place.

“You’re mad.”

Does anyone since the existence of humanity enjoy whiplash?

I push past him, but he grips my arm, spinning me back around.

“Don’t be upset.”

“What if Brady woke up?” he speaks low. “What if Mason walked in?”

“What if you figure out what you want without worrying about other people?”

His mouth opens, but nothing comes out, and his eyes fall to the floor.

“Right.” I turn and head up the stairs, locking myself in my bedroom.

My head falls against the door, and I close my eyes, willing tears not to follow.

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