15. Eden

FIFTEEN

eden

I've dreamed of this very scenario more times than I care to count.

The day when Chase tells me how much he missed me.

That he was stupid for letting me go all those years ago.

He'd profess his love, sweep me off my feet, and give me mind-blowing, toe-curling orgasms forever and ever, amen.

Instead, I'm tongue-tied and frozen to the spot.

Chase leans in closer, his rough, calloused hands cupping my face, his breath hot against my lips.

My heart beats against my ribs in anticipation of his kiss that always weakened my knees.

His gaze is intense and full of emotions.

There's a war inside him, one he fights alone. Every damn day.

It's the burden of surviving something he thinks he had the power to change.

I want to help him lighten the load, but he's still too deep in that guilt for me to reach him.

His gaze flicks down to my lips before he steps away. The warmth of his hands disappears when he drops them to his sides.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

He stops and I can see him trying to collect his thoughts.

And when he does, anger sparks from his whole being, making his voice hard and unyielding.

I can't tell if his anger is with me or not.

"Once upon a time I'd jump for a chance at something like your charity event. Anything for that limelight. But now?" He shakes his head. "I can't face it now. I can't put myself out there for you or for the paparazzi to tear me apart again. I won't let them put this town in the spotlight, either. These are good people here. I won't subject them to that again."

Panic and hurt seep into my bones, but I grab on to the one thing I know I could promise him. "Listen, I can't help what happens here, but I'll have extra security, whatever you need to keep the vultures away from you."

His sigh is deep and laced with swear words he mutters under his breath. "I'm sorry. I just can't, Eden."

Pain slices across his face, and now I see clearly that this is torture for him.

I didn't realize when I came here that the extent of my favor would be so traumatic for him.

But now that I know, how can I ask him to go back to the city where the memories are so painful he can't recall the good ones?

God, I'm a shitty person.

It isn't his fault I'd fucked up. I can't ask him to step back into the fray just to save my ass.

And yet the claw of anxiety and fear in my throat insists I still try to convince him.

What is wrong with me ?

The lines of what I want and what I need are starting to blur, leaving me confused as hell.

But I'm not heartless and as much as I pretend to hate him, if seeing him again has taught me anything, it's that I never stopped loving him.

I know what I need to do.

I slide my hands into the back pockets of my jeans and blow out a slow breath.

"You know what? This is wrong of me. Now that I know everything, I can't in good conscience ask you to do something like this." I sigh with a smile, even though panic is now my new best friend. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Don't be sorry. You didn't know." His voice is tight, as though he's on the edge of losing his shit.

"Yeah, but now I do. And if it were me in your shoes, I'd turn me down too."

I pick up my beer bottle from the coffee table. "Well, I need to go get some work done. Thank you for dinner, especially since it was my favorite."

The tension in his shoulders relaxes a little. "It was my pleasure."

"And thanks for letting me stay here, giving up your bed. I know this isn't easy for either of us. But I do want to thank you for putting me up."

His gaze meets mine, earnestness in those depths. "Eden, I would never let you stay somewhere that would be dangerous for you. I…" He stops and looks away for a moment. "Anyway, you're welcome. Let me know if you need anything. And don't forget to stay away from the windows."

"Thanks, I will." I turn and slowly make my way down the hall, weighed down by disappointment, guilt, and the whole situation .

Not only am I still without a speaker, but all of those feelings that I swore to everyone—including me—I'd never feel for Chase Hanover ever again have come roaring back with a vengeance.

All I want to do is wrap him in my arms and never let anyone hurt him again.

Tonight, the real Chase emerged from the shadows momentarily.

Kind, generous, and funny. Never mind that he only gets hotter with age.

The one that remembers my favorite meal.

The one I fell in love with all those years ago.

For his own wife and teammate to treat him the way they did makes me want to throat punch them. Well, the teammate anyway, since he's still among the living.

It's not quite seven o'clock and at home, when work calls my name, I always come running.

But for the first time in a long time, I ignore the call. I change into some lounge clothes and climb into bed.

Staring at the ceiling, I listen to the thunder, howling wind, and rain as it thrashes against the house. I can only imagine what a mess the storm will leave behind.

Sleep eludes me so I read, but even the spicy, football romance can't keep my mind from wandering back to Chase and the way he looked telling me his story.

It makes my heart ache to know that Chase has been portrayed as the villain, when he'd actually been the victim.

But it's easy to do since dead women don't speak.

And even if they did, it's doubtful Heather would have stood up for Chase. Especially if it would give her negative attention.

Dear Lord, please don't strike me down for thinking ill of the dead .

Then there's Ty Richardson. Unfortunately, it doesn't surprise me that he's involved in all of this.

Because if anyone should feel guilty about how the situation played out, it's that asshole. But knowing how he is, I'm positive he doesn't feel one ounce of regret or remorse.

Maybe he'd be a better baseball player if he wasn't so busy screwing other guys' wives.

I toss and turn for a bit longer, until finally around one o'clock, I'm sick of lying in bed.

Anxiety makes the walls close in, and the need to get out of this room is a priority.

Opening the door, I listen for Chase.

Other than the storm noise, it's quiet. I tiptoe out and shut the door quietly behind me.

The tile beneath my feet is freezing as I move quickly toward the open living space where Chase is lying on the couch.

A couch way too small for a man his size. His feet hang off one end, and one arm hangs down toward the floor.

But his soft snores keep me moving quietly as I continue a tour of the house.

I cross through the kitchen and head down a darkened hallway. There's an elevator, a room that looks like an office, and a single door at the end of the hall.

Curious, I turn the knob, and the door opens to an enclosed staircase leading down into darkness.

Fear skitters down my spine, and every bad horror movie I've ever watched runs through my head.

Chuckling, I roll my eyes at my melodramatics and flip on the lights. When I get to the bottom of the staircase, my jaw drops.

Holy shit.

There's a whole other house down here. Living room, kitchen, small eating area off the kitchen, and other rooms down a hallway.

I peek in the first room and turn on the lights. The huge space is full of state-of-the-art gym equipment.

So, this is how Chase stays in such great shape.

Every piece of exercise equipment needed for arms, legs, and any other muscle group is arranged circuit style.

Along the mirrored wall are racks of weighted plates and dumbbells. In the back corner is an open area with mats that are perfect for yoga.

"Ah, yes. Maybe some yoga will help me sleep."

I choose a mat and sit cross-legged on it, closing my eyes, focusing on my breathing.

The tension in my body begins to dissipate with each breath.

In this space, away from Chase, away from being able to hear the storm outside, I can finally relax.

Usually, I follow a yoga sequence I know in my head, making sure I do each and every one properly.

But right now? That sounds exhausting, so I just let my body decide what feels good.

Thoughts of the charity event and what'll happen if I royally fuck it up try to invade my peace, but I push on them until they quiet down to a dull roar.

Keeping my eyes closed, I lift my arms and stretch side to side.

I move into child's pose, relishing the stretch and letting the feel of it sink into my muscles.

Lifting up, I move into another pose, holding the stretch for several seconds.

In the mirror, a motion catches my eye.

I gasp when I see Chase leaning against the doorjamb watching me. His arms are crossed over his bare chest, and he has a pair of gray sweatpants on.

Son of a bitch. Those pants really are like lingerie for men.

They don't hide a damn thing.

I clear my throat. "Hey, did I wake you?"

He shakes his head, his gaze raking down my body from the top of my head to the tip of my toes.

It feels like he has branded me by the way my skin burns under his heated stare.

"Nah. I woke up thirsty and couldn't get back to sleep, so I thought I'd come down and lift some weights," he says, but doesn't move farther into the room.

I stand and smooth a hand down my shirt. "Yeah, I couldn't sleep either. Sometimes yoga helps relax me enough to fall asleep. But I can go so I'm not in your way."

He pushes off the door and starts toward me.

His walk is almost predatory and makes my heart pound in my ears.

I bite my lip, my feet glued to the floor, caught up in the laser-beam trap of his stare.

He stops in front of me, so close I have to tilt my head back. I look up to find his strong jaw tight and his eyes dark with desire.

"You've been in my way since you set foot on the island, Eden. Plaguing me at every turn. You've got me all confused. You torment me."

With every sentence, he moves closer, until his lips are so close to mine, I can smell the mint of his toothpaste and the soap on his skin.

I clench my thighs to relieve the pressure building between my legs. His words mesmerize me.

"I want nothing more than to take you upstairs and fuck you until we can't remember our names. But?— "

My stomach jumps in anticipation at his words, making me inhale sharply.

I lay my fingertips on his lips.

"No buts. I want that too, Chase."

The huskiness in my voice and the fire between my legs is familiar. Chase is the only man that makes me feel like I'm going to spontaneously combust.

One hand cups my cheek before he slides it into my hair. He fists the strands and pulls gently, making our gazes meet head-on.

"Are you sure you want this? If I kiss you, I won't stop."

"Okay."

"I won't stop until I've tasted your pussy and filled you with my cum."

His words alone make me want to explode.

I run my hands over his chest then over his shoulders and hold on, his scar a small bump under my palm.

"Yes, I want this. I want you, Chase. But it's just sex. It can't be anything more than just sex. You're never coming back to New York, and I'll never set foot on this island again."

"Just sex. For the last time. Works for me."

The words barely pass his lips before he crushes his mouth to mine in a soul-searing kiss.

His lips are soft, full, and coaxing. He consumes me, drinks me in, pulls me under until I can barely stand on my own.

He bands an arm around my waist and pulls me up against him, his cock hard and insistent against my belly.

I need to feel him inside me, the weight of his body on me.

As much as my toys are good to get me off, there's no substitute for a hot, hard man.

Especially when the man is Chase Hanover.

Without breaking the kiss, he moves us over to one of the weight benches where one section of it is lifted into an inclined position. "Sit down," he murmurs against my lips. "And lean back."

His commands are hot as hell, and I follow his instructions eagerly.

Our eyes lock as he kneels in front of me, spreading my legs apart.

His wide palms run up my thighs and under the legs of my shorts until his fingers reach the edge of my panties.

With his fingertips, he rubs along the edge, teasing me next to where I want those fingers the most.

Back and forth, his finger runs along the elastic edge before hooking the waistband of my shorts and pulling them down my legs.

I'm bare and wide open to him, and he stares down at me, his gaze so intense that shyness reaches out and tries to take hold of me.

But the hungry look in his eyes gives me the confidence to keep my legs open so he can see my most intimate place.

He licks his lips and smiles up at me. "Hmmm…your pussy is even better than I remembered. Eden, how is it fair that you've only gotten more beautiful over the years?"

I gulp air, trying like hell to keep breathing so I don't pass out and fall onto the floor.

Chase has done little more than caress my thighs and take off my shorts and yet I'm breathing as though I've run a marathon.

All twenty-six miles of it in record time.

My hands grip the edge of the bench, and I fight the urge to squirm.

He runs a fingertip through my wetness, brushing my clit with his knuckle.

My hips jerk up when he makes a second pass over that super sensitive bundle of nerves .

"Yeah, that feels good, doesn't it? I can tell by how wet you are."

"Yes," I say breathlessly.

He pushes one finger into me slowly a couple of times before adding another one and crooking them, hitting that all important spot deep inside me.

"Oh God."

I bite my lip hard and buck my hips up, wanting more.

And he knows it.

"You want more, don't you?" he asks with a dark chuckle, adding another finger, his gravelly whisper raking over my skin.

"Yessss."

Of their own volition, my hips rock up to meet his hand as he finger fucks me.

I lean my head back, relishing the feeling of being full.

But I still want more.

I want his cock to stretch and fill me.

I want more than anything to have that connection with him again.

Chase leans forward, his tongue flicking my clit. Once. Twice, followed by a long, slow lick.

He continues this torturous rhythm for several moments until I'm teetering on the edge.

It doesn't take much more of his magical tongue before my orgasm bears down on me like an out-of-control freight train.

The overwhelming sensation of his mouth sucking me and his fingers filling me is too much for me to handle.

I bury my hands in his hair, my nails raking his scalp as I can do nothing more than release incoherent moans into the quiet of the room.

My whole world is centered between my legs, and everything else falls away.

I ride out wave after wave of pleasure .

When I finally stop seeing stars, Chase sits back on his haunches, licking his lips.

"You taste even sweeter than before."

"I don't think I've ever come so hard before."

The grin on his face is downright dirty, making my core clench.

"Oh baby, that was just the appetizer."