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“Chase.”
“I have you. I won’t let you go.” By that he meant he was supporting her and wouldn’t let her fall, but the second it was out of his mouth it was obvious that where they were concerned, it had another meaning.
He’d said something similar to her ten years ago before he brought her home to Dallas.
I won’t let you go.
He had, though. And now he’d been given a second chance, but he wouldn’t make that promise again—he couldn’t afford to break it again.
He tilted her hips and plunged into her again. She dropped her head back, her hair a messy tornado spread over the wall, her shoulders pressed flat, perky breasts begging for attention.
Attention he gave them.
It wasn’t an easy move, but he managed thanks to his height. And it was that very move that sent her over, tumbling her into orgasm as she screamed his name with wild abandon.
Over and over she called, “Chase. Chase. Chase!” until his name faded into a contented sigh. Once she spent herself riding him, he allowed himself to let go of his own release, spilling inside her as his mind went blissfully blank.
Nothing mattered—not the past or the future—apart from the woman in his arms.
* * *
Miriam’s limbs tingled like she’d been plugged into an outlet. Chase had her pinned to the wall, his forehead resting on her shoulder as his powerful back expanded with each ragged breath he took.
She was still impaled on him, loving the feel of him inside of her, his woodsy scent surrounding her. Loving his reaction when she’d taken him into her mouth before they’d started. His legs had shaken under her hands. The way she’d shaken when he took her against the wall.
I have you. I won’t let you go.
She squeezed her eyelids closed to shut out his words. What they had was only physical—only an itch they’d chosen to scratch. Mimi and Chase were not “Mimi and Chase” of ten years ago, but adults who had agreed to sex and nothing more.
But the former her—the her who had loved him with everything in her twenty-three-year-old being—wanted to hold on to those words. To tuck them away because they made her feel warm and wanted.
She unhooked her legs from his waist and he pulled out, setting her feet on the ground. She sagged against the wall, her knees wobbly.
“Thanks, Mr. Mayor.” She kept her tone cheeky and was pleased when her comment drew a dazzling, if tired, smile out of him.
“Does this tick a sexual fantasy box for you, Mimi?”
“Several.” She counted them off on her fingers. “Wall sex. Mayor sex. Mansion sex.”
His smile didn’t budge.
He stole a quick kiss and he took a moment to visit the half bath. She watched his firm butt flex as he walked, reminding herself to send a note of thanks to his personal trainer. He reemerged as she was settling in front of the fire, pulling the blanket around her body.
“I failed at warming you up,” he said.
“You ignited me. It wore off.” She held out her palms, soaking in what little heat was coming from the embers.
He tossed another log onto the fire and stoked the flames before sitting with her. “Do you approve?”
“I would think that was obvious.”
“I was talking about the fire, but I’ll take that compliment.” He opened his arms and she nestled into him, his hands warming her through the blanket and making her toastier than the fire.
“How are you this hot?”
“So many ways to answer that question.” He ducked his head to kiss her, a long, heady slide of his lips along hers. “Next time, we won’t rush.”
Next time.
