17. Tear You Apart

CHAPTER 17

TEAR YOU APART

SHE WANTS REVENGE

He pulls a knife from the magnetic holder and grabs an onion from the counter, holding them both out to me. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“Okay, I may have lied about that part.” I grimace. “Kitchens, uhm, scare me.” It’s a weakness I hate admitting and can sometimes hide. But Chase’s kitchen looks like it’s straight out of some five-star restaurant and I don’t know what any of this stuff does. I can’t even find a microwave in here.

“Okay, well, we need to fix that. Come here, I’ll help you.”

He starts off by showing me how to hold the knife, demonstrating the rocking motion I’ll need to make. It looks easy enough, but as soon as I take the knife, I become all thumbs and can’t recreate what he just showed me. I make a mess. He must think I’m an idiot and I don’t like that feeling. My shoulders tense and my jaw ticks as I fight with this stupid vegetable. I’m about to scream when Chase presses against me, taking my hand in his and moving me through the motions with an ease and calm I don’t recognize.

The distracting stiffness poking into my back makes it hard enough to figure this out, but when he leans down, dipping his mouth to my neck, it becomes dangerous. Between his hands wandering all over me and the throbbing between my legs, it’s a wonder I haven’t cut myself.

“Did your mom teach you how to cook?” I ask, trying to refocus him.

“Nope. Concentrate, or you’ll cut your finger off.”

He sucks on my pulse point and I don’t even realize I’ve stopped cutting, too focused on his lips and his hands. My chest heaves and my heart races.

All this over an onion.

“How long will all this take to cook?” I ask in a breathy voice.

“An hour,” he answers in a gravelly whisper. His hand tucks between my legs and I gasp, gripping the counter tight. “I love how my shirt looks on you. And how wet you still are.”

“This isn’t sanitary, Chase.”

“I’m not touching the food, and I’ll wash my hands when I’m done.”

He pulls the shirt up over my ass, grinding against it. Such a fucking brat, but I don’t want to stop him.

“And what time are Jamie and Lexi going to be here?”

“No idea. They have a key.” He makes a disapproving sound in my ear, adding, “I’m going to need to get you a step stool.”

“Why?”

“So I can bend you over this counter and fuck you properly.”

With a huff, I slam the knife down on the counter. I grab his hand, pulling it out from between my legs even though I don’t want to, and face him with a stern look. It’s the one I give to my students when I need them to know I mean business. He straightens up, but flashes me a wicked grin. Before I can say a word, he lifts me, spins me around, and drops me onto the other counter. I can’t stop the scream that comes out of me, or the giggles that follow.

“There, now you can look me in the eye when you give me the lecture that’s coming about distracting you while you have a knife.”

I roll my eyes and bite my lip. His big blue eyes sparkle at me as he licks his lips before dragging his bottom lip through his teeth. I wonder what Lexi and Jamie will think if they come in and I’m on the counter, impaled on that big dick of his. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him to me while my arms go around his neck so I can play with his soft hair. “I could lecture you, and you’d like it, but I have a better idea.”

Our mouths collide and he’s grinding against me when his hand slips up my shirt, cupping my breast and squeezing. “Fuck, I need you, Ren. I thought I could wait, but I can’t. I need to worship you, to be inside you. Why don’t we go back upstairs and you show me what you packed in that bag of yours?”

“I’ll make you a deal,” I breathe against his mouth between kisses. I’m not sure we’re going to stop, but this might at least slow us down. “We get the food ready, and you and I will go back upstairs.”

“Stay the night,” he moans, pinching my nipple until it’s pebbled, still kissing and grinding against me. Out of nowhere, he whispers, “Tie me up and make me yours?”

The thought of his hands bound to the bedposts makes me shiver, but his shoulders stiffen as the words come out, and he pushes away from me.

“I’m sorry…that came out weird, huh?” He swallows hard, avoiding eye contact and shuffling back over to the sink. “I didn’t mean…never mind.”

“Chase?” My fingers dance over his tight arm as he scrubs his hands, but he doesn’t respond. “Look at me, handsome boy.”

He turns his head, but can’t quite meet my stare. I expect Pongo to be at his side any second now, but this might not be his anxiety. He’s embarrassed. I reach up and cup his face.

“Honey, you don’t have to be embarrassed about wanting to experiment. Not around me, mi lindo cachorro . Never in front of me.” He nods while my thumb slides over his pouty bottom lip and I smile at him. “Let’s finish cooking, so I can give you a present.”

“P-present?” he stutters as I play with his hair. “You brought me a present?”

I pull him down and kiss the tip of his nose, watching the lopsided grin come back to his cute face. “I’ll let you pick out one toy for me to use before dinner.”

“Damn it. You’re making it hard to get things done around here.” He grabs my face in his giant hands, pulling me into a kiss that curls my toes and nearly has me melting onto the floor. He whispers as he pulls away, “I’m suddenly very, very hungry again.”

We hurry to finish prepping, even though it’s him doing the work and giving me tips while I sit on the counter and feed him blueberries. The tension and the rain clouds have melted away and the ease of talking to him returns. I’m in the kitchen of a movie star’s house, but it feels more and more like home every time I’m here. Like I’m supposed to be here.

So, why am I pushing it all away so hard?

The logical side of my brain knows better. It’s a horrible idea for us to be together, even just fucking around, because that’s how people mess up and get caught. I’ve got too much on the line—my career and my reputation—to let one silly man ruin it for me just because of what his tongue can do. Or because he’s cute. Or sweet. Shit, he’s damn near perfect.

My heart wants me to let him ruin every part of me. But my brain knows he’ll grow tired of me. He’ll find some cute little Hollywood girl that the press will fawn over. We’ll drift apart, and I’ll go back to my robots and kink clubs. I understand robots more than I understand most people anyhow. Robots won’t stomp on my sandcastle and remind me I’m not a princess. Computers won’t break my heart.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks, putting the leftover ingredients into the fridge.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” I shake the thoughts of heartbreak out of my head for now, determined to enjoy this while I can.

After I dry the last knife and put it back on the rack, I lead him upstairs with Pongo and Lulu following close behind. They jump up into the bed, but instead of chasing them off so we can have our playtime, Chase pulls me into the bed.

“Talk to me?”

“It’s nothing, Chase. I just stood for too long.”

He lifts me onto his chest, and I curl up on top of him like a cat. We watched movies like this the day after our date. He plays with my hair as we lay together in comfortable silence. It’s peaceful, relaxing.

“Tell me about your brother,” I ask as the dogs settle in next to us.

“Devin? He’s a nutcase, but he’s an alright kid. I can’t wait for you to meet him more than just a few shouts down the hallway.” He laughs and rubs Lulu’s head. “I don’t know how we’re related sometimes. Devin’s always been the life of the party, always the happy, fun guy to my grumpy, standoffish internalization of everything.”

“He’s still young, right? And playing professional sports?” Chase nods against my head. “He’s still a baby, but he’s not going to grow up till he retires.” He laughs, and it reverberates through me.

“I hope he never does. I hope he always sees the world for its happiness and the good in people. That’s what you do for me.” I lift my head and he’s staring down at me. It’s that look he had on our date. The one that melts the walls around my heart. “Your eyes are like brownies. Caramel brownies. Not the dark chocolate kind, but the light brown, gooey ones. Fuck, they’re beautiful and apparently I’m hungry.”

“You’re so strange, but you’re cute.” I lean up and give him a peck on the lips, fold my arms on his chest, and rest my head on them. “Did you play hockey, too?”

“I did, a little. Baseball, too. Could have played pro ball, but went with acting instead. Fewer injuries and bullshit, or so I thought.”

“You were destined for fame no matter what path you chose, Puppy.” My fingers play on his arms, drawing shapes and writing his name over and over. He struggles to keep his eyes open as the motion almost lulls him to sleep. My ability to calm him worries me the most. I don’t want to take that away from him.

“Were your parents into sports?”

“No. My dad worked as a long-haul trucker and my mom was…absent.” He kisses the top of my head and hugs his arms around me. “What about you? Did you always want to teach?”

“No. Teacher never made the list when people asked what I hoped to be. It sounded like too much, and I wasn’t wrong. I had dreams of becoming an astronaut or invent something revolutionary like Bill Gates. Not for the money, I just wanted to play with all those shiny toys.”

“What changed?”

“I had other priorities. I became an adult with bills to pay and my ex couldn’t hold down a job. I had started classes for my masters and had a stack of PhD applications ready to go, but we needed money more than I needed to touch the stars.”

“I’m so sorry, Ren.”

“It’s okay. We all make sacrifices.”

“You deserve to touch the stars. You deserve to have the stars flown down to you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m touching a star right now, aren’t I? Mi estrella del cine. Besides, I always expected it. I come from a big, broke as fuck family. We struggled a lot after my dad died. We all had to work hard, and it just became a normal thing. I’m the first one in my family to get a degree. He would have been so proud of that.”

He stares at me like he wants to say something, like he wants to promise me more than just the stars, but doesn’t know how. “That must have been tough, giving up your hopes for someone else. It might be weird, but I kind of envy the big family part. I didn’t really have anyone until Devin came along. Dad spent more time on the road than at home. I’d only see him once or twice a month, but he drank. Mom only came around when she needed money. So I raised Dev. Don’t ask me how he survived. A twelve-year-old makes a terrible dad figure.”

“Hey, I get it. My brothers and I raised Dani, and look how terrible she turned out.”

We laugh together, staring at each other again, not realizing how close we are until our mouths press together. We share slow kisses that turn into deep promises and hopes, and back to slow once more. It’s like we can’t help ourselves, a magnetic force keeps forcing us together.

“How did you end up in Los Angeles?” I ask, shifting my body down so his mouth won’t be as easy to reach and so damn tempting.

“Dad had an accident at work. Thankfully, it wasn’t the booze. He fucked up his back real bad. The inspector found some faulty part on the truck. Dad found an okay lawyer and, for once in his life, sobered up enough to do something good with the settlement money. My mom’s arrest right after his accident opened his eyes. He had a sister in Pasadena, so the three of us moved in with her.”

His hands slide under my shirt and he rubs my back while still holding me tight. Pongo paws at him a little before he shoves his face into Chase’s neck. They stay like that, and god, it’s adorable, but I’m a little concerned this might be a response to stress from Pongo. I’ve seen him come to Chase so often in the short time I’ve known them. I hope it’s not my fault, and I didn’t ask him anything too upsetting or personal.

“Are we okay, Renate?”

“I…I don’t want to hurt you, Chase. Relationships are hard for me because of my past.”

There’s a long pause as he continues to stroke my hair. “Maybe I’m okay with you hurting me,” the heavy sadness in his soft whisper almost brings tears to my eyes. “You, uh, you wanna show me what’s in your bag so we can stop talking about this for a bit?”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t open up about that stuff too often except with my shrink, so I kind of need some of your sunshine, gorgeous.” He takes hold of my hips, moving me back and forth and sending sparks down my spine. “Or I’m gonna have to take care of you without the bag of goodies.”

“What if your friends get here while I’m…distracting you?”

He rolls us over, disturbing poor Lulu and caging me in between his powerful arms as he stares at me, dropping his hips to mine. He reaches down between us, shimmying his jeans off. I have no idea what I’ve done right in this life to deserve this Adonis with a kind, sweet soul, but I’m so glad Dani arranged for us to meet. I wish things were different. I wish societal norms would give us a chance instead of pulling us apart, but it’s an inevitable conclusion that we would never work out. I wish we could give this a chance and see where it goes. I don’t know if I can handle it, though. I don’t know if I’m ready.

“Upstairs belongs to me.” He explains, opening the drawer in the night table. “They don’t come up here unless it’s with me or an emergency. Except Steve. He does whatever the fuck he wants because he’s Steve. Besides, they’ll see your car and know you’re here, and don’t worry, they won’t hear anything from down there.”

“Are you challenging me, Mr. Cooper?” I reach between us and pull a whimper from him as I help him roll the condom on while I nip at his chin.

“Yeah, Ms. Silva, it was. Wrap your legs around me, beautiful.”

My back arches as he pushes inside me, rocking his hips and groaning as he fills me. He pauses, staring down at me with hope etched across his face. “Sing for your dinner, my queen. Tell me how much you like this. How good I make you feel.”

His thrusts are deep and slow, and his eyes don’t leave mine. I sing the song he needs to hear as his muscular arms flex next to my head and the muscles in his shoulders ripple. His mouth teases mine and his teeth catch my bottom lip, biting down just the right amount. When he lets go, his hips move faster. I reach up and grab his face, keeping him focused on me.

“Watch me, Chase. Look at how pretty you are with your enormous cock inside me.”

“Christ, you feel so goddamn good, Renate. The way you take me…so fucking good.” He leans back, not missing a beat as he pushes my shirt over my tits and pinches my nipples. “You’re so beautiful.”

I reach up and grab his chin. “Shut up and fuck me harder, like the slut you are. I want your cum dripping out of me all through dinner. Do I make myself clear?”

“I mean, I’m wearing a condom—” I squeeze his chin and narrow my eyes. “Yes, ma’am!”

His arms wrap around me and he buries his head in my shoulder as he fucks me into the mattress. The headboard’s relentless slams against the wall add a rhythmic drum beat to our salacious duet of moans and whispers.

“That’s a good boy. My perfect pet.” I fist his hair again and pull hard. Damn, I love men with long hair. “Now, break this goddamn bed, Puppy!”