Chapter Four

Chase

The last time I was terrified of anything was when I was a twelve-year-old boy alone in the house when the fuse box blew. Suddenly, everything went dark, and I started hearing loud noises coming from the basement.

I locked myself in my room, screaming my head out till my parents got back from dinner. After that encounter, I went down to that basement, turned off the lights, and stayed there in complete darkness till I stopped being afraid of the dark.

And yet that experience was not as scary as waiting to find out whether my little thief would tell me to leave her room and shut the door in my face after I told her to leave Misty River with me.

"All right, I'll go with you."

"You will?"

I can't help the surprise in my voice. In my experience, most women will say hell no to an offer from a man they barely know, let alone one they stole from, to leave town together. But not my little thief.

"Yes, I will. I trust you."

"Good. Let me pack up your things; we're leaving at midnight."

I'm trying to act normal, but inside, I'm exhilarated. I can't believe I get to watch over this devastatingly beautiful woman, keep her safe, and make her mine. Yes, I want to protect her, but let's not get it twisted that that's the only thing I want or that I'm doing all this out of the goodness of my heart.

I'm not a good person. In my years as a private investigator, I've destroyed people's marriages and families with my discoveries and ended people's careers and futures without batting an eye, so believe me when I say I'm no hero.

But this woman, easily the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on, says that she trusts me, so I'm gonna be the man who's gonna earn that trust, whatever it takes.

After icing her bruise for about an hour, I carefully wrap the bandage around her, using all the self-control I have and then some to keep from staring at her breasts, which, from my peripheral view, I can already tell are ripe and perfect, but I refrain from looking.

"Try and get some sleep; we have an hour till we have to leave."

She smiles at me, her perfectly symmetrical white teeth coming into view for a second, and my cock instantly hardens. "And you, what will you be doing for the next hour?"

"Watching over you."

She nods, closes her heavy eyes, and almost immediately drifts off to sleep. My cock jerks again, reminding me that it's still steel hard and wants, no needs, some relief.

When I'm sure that Riley is out like a light, I check the door and window again before going into the bathroom to attend to my stiff cock.

Once inside, I unbuckle my belt and zip down my pants before whipping out my rock-hard cock. I've been hard many times before now, but it's mostly only when I've had physical contact with a woman.

I've never been this hot and hard from just looking into a woman's eyes, from her smile, or from hearing her voice-as smooth as silk—‘til I met my little red head. Everything about her turns me the fuck on, and now, as I pour saliva into my palm and pull it back and forth over my full length, it's all I can do not to go into the room and take her.

I would start by taking those full pink lips of hers into mine before kissing them as if my life depended on it. I'll taste every inch of her willing flesh, trailing my tongue down her belly till I find her pussy, pink and wet and throbbing with need.

I stroke my length faster as I imagine licking every inch of her pussy, lapping up every drop of her juices, and coating my tongue with her taste.

Then after she digs her fingers into my bare back and trembles as she climaxes, I'll get up and sink my fingers into her hair to hold her in place while I slip my cock past her perfect lips into her wet, hot mouth and fuck her ‘til her eyes water.

I throw my head back and imagine her mouth as my strokes intensify and the pressure in my belly and balls builds.

"Oh fuck, Riley," I groan as I reach my peak, and come shoots out of my dick as I imagine it's on her perfect titties.

After the last drop has escaped my cock, I lean against the bathroom wall to keep from falling after having what I can only describe as the most intense orgasm I've ever had. And that's just from thinking about having my way with her. Lord only knows what the real thing would feel like.

My cock gets hard again just thinking about it, so I clean up and head back into the room where Riley is still fast asleep.

If only she knew how hard she makes me or how ravenous I am for her, she'd run far away from me. But I'll never act on my desires, no matter how much they threaten to consume me, not until she willingly and completely trusts me and gives herself over to me.

* * * *

At exactly 11:55 p.m., I gently touch Riley to wake her. Still, she wakes up with a start and starts screaming, so I put my hand over her mouth and whisper, "It's me, Chase; you're safe now," over and over again until she calms down.

"I'm sorry about freaking out like that," she says after drinking some water.

"You never need to apologize for what happened to you, not to me."

A tear rolls down her face, and her gaze drops to the ground. "I was dreaming about him, and the nights he would come to my room after getting drunk, yelling and cussing me out for killing his wife, my mother, and making his life miserable."

I almost grind my teeth to powder from fury as I listen to her sobs. If I didn't have to get her away from her monster of a stepfather, I would've hunted him down and made sure he didn't see tomorrow.

Taking her face in my palms, I lift hers to meet mine and wipe the tears away with my thumbs. "I'm really sorry you went through all that, but I promise he's never gonna hurt you again. Let's get you out of this horror show of a town, all right?"

She nods. "I'd like that."

I help her get up from the bed. "How do you feel?"

"Much better. I guess the icing and the pain relievers worked."

"Good, we need to get moving. I heard some chatter over the police radio that your stepfather reported that you stole from him and are on the run. He's asked the cops to keep an eye out for you, which means we have to be very careful."

She looks at me like I'm a ghost before throwing on her hoodie. "You just happen to have a police radio and overheard some chatter?"

"Yes, let's leave it at that."

She picks up her handbag and starts searching through it. "Have you seen my phone? I thought I kept it in here."

"I got rid of it. The cops can track it and find you."

"What? But I had my whole life on that phone. It has pictures of my mom, the only ones of the both of us that my stepfather didn't destroy in a drunken rage after she passed."

"Don't worry; if you have it backed up to the cloud, I can retrieve it all when we reach our destination."

She nods tentatively. "I don't know if I did that."

"I'll find out later. For now, we need to leave." I walk over to the window and look around the parking lot to see if I'll catch any suspicious movements before grabbing her bag. "Let's go, the coast seems clear."

Putting her bag on the back seat of the car, I drive out of the hotel parking lot and onto the street. We drive for about five minutes when Riley clears her throat. "So where are we going anyway? You never told me."

"A small town in the middle of Iowa called Greystone. It's peaceful, and there's not much going on there in terms of having a social life or anything like that. Still, the few people who live there are outcasts like me, and we always look out for each other. Besides, it's safe, and that's the last place your uncle or the loan shark will think of looking for you."

She's about to say something when the flashing lights of a police car catch my attention through the rearview mirror. Then the sirens come on, alerting us that we need to pull over.

Riley grabs onto my hand so tightly that I'm afraid she'll cut off blood circulation. "What do we do? What do we do? I can't get caught, I won't go back there."

"Hey, hey. Stay calm, I'll handle this." I look at the side mirror and see the cop approaching the car. "Just throw on your hoodie and pretend to be asleep. Don't open your eyes, no matter what."

She pulls her hoodie over her head, partially covering her face, then leans against the glass and closes her eyes. I place my hand on my gun and pray I don't need to use it today.

"Good evening, sir; license and registration, please."

"Good evening, officer. Was I speeding?" I ask, handing him the two things he asked for. "We've been driving for so long through too many states that I can't keep track of the speed limits anymore. My fiancée keeps telling me we should pull into a motel and rest, and I think she's right."

He looks at Riley's slightly covered face and shines his flashlight on the back seat of my car before turning back to me. "Can you step out of the vehicle, please? Wake your fiancée too."

"Officer, that's not—"

"Did you serve?" He interrupts, looking at the tattoo on my arm.

"I did. Proud member of SEAL Team 8, seven years."

"Oh wow." He hands me back my license and registration. "Thank you for your service, and have a good night."

"Thank you, officer."

I resume driving, and Riley lets out the breath I didn't even realize she was holding in. "Oh, thank god."

I take her hand in mine and squeeze it gently. "See, we're fine. Told you I'd take care of you."

We drive all night, and by 8 a.m. the following day, we finally see a city limit sign that reads: Welcome to Greystone: A place to call home.

While Riley was sleeping, I called my only trusted friend back in Greystone, my buddy and business partner Bruce, and asked him to help me clean up my apartment and make it presentable for Riley.

I'm not a pig, but I've been single ever since my fiancée left me at the altar five years ago, so I'm not as concerned as I used to be about keeping the house spotless. I also asked him to bring over some of his wife Sara's clothes for Riley since she hadn't grabbed any of them when she ran for her life.

"We're here," I say, watching Riley's eyes widen in surprise as she takes in the house before looking at me.

"You made it sound like we'd be huddled up in some hole instead of living in such a big house."

"Don't conclude ‘til we get inside."

Grabbing her bag and my luggage from the trunk, I lead her past the garden and overgrown lawn—due to my week of absence—to the front door. I let her into the house and close the door behind us.

"Wow." She gives the living room a once-over. "This place is beautiful. You have a beautiful home, Chase."

"I'm glad you like it because it's your home now too." Hopefully forever. "Come on, let me show you to your room so you can shower and freshen up before breakfast."

Once I show her the room, I give her the clothes to change into and leave her alone to shower while I make breakfast.

I'm just done making breakfast when Riley enters the kitchen. She looks so fresh-faced, innocent, and hauntingly beautiful. And she's looking at me with those baby-blue eyes of hers that it takes everything in me not to walk over to her, grab her, and kiss away every pain that asshole and every other asshole has ever caused her.

"Hey, how was your shower?"

"Really good. The hot water helped soothe my sore muscles."

"I'm glad to hear that. Hope you like pancakes, I made some."

"I love pancakes, especially blueberry pancakes," she says, sitting on one of the kitchen bar stools.

I put some pancakes on a plate, drizzle maple syrup over them, and slide it in front of her.

"Hmmm, this is so good." She lets out a delicious moan after taking the first bite, and I feel like stabbing the pancakes for being the reason for her moans of pleasure instead of me.

"Glad you like it." I groan, noticing some maple syrup on her cheek. "You have something on your cheek."

"Where?" She asks, trying to use her tongue to get it.

When she wiggles her tongue around and still doesn't have it, I move closer and wipe it off with a towel, catching a whiff of the vanilla smell of her skin.

My cock becomes rock-hard, and I try to distance myself from her, but I can't. It's like my head knows the right thing to do is walk away, but my cock refuses to oblige.

Unable to stop myself, like a magnet being pulled to another magnet by an undefeated force, my thumb sweeps across her soft skin and rests on her lips, parting them slightly.

Without thinking, my head dips, and I take her lips prisoner. They are soft, much softer than I imagined, and full as they collide with mine. She lets out a soft moan as I drag her lower lip into my mouth, driving my need to taste more of her to a crescendo.

I sink my fingers into the red hair I'd dreamed of touching since I first saw it, and my tongue pushes against her lips. Her mouth parts to let my tongue slip in and taste the sweetness inside.

Kissing my little thief is unlike anything I've ever experienced. With every moan and whimper, she wipes my memory of every other kiss I've ever had. I never want this to end.

Her arms make their way around my neck. Her vanilla scent and supple breasts are pressed against me, almost driving me to the brink of madness.

If I don't pull away now, I'll rip off her clothes and take her before I can think any better of it, so that's what I do, and I do it fast.

Her breasts are rising and falling with each breath, and her lips look pale from the intensity of our kiss.

"Why did you stop?" she asks, disappointed. "Did I do something wrong? My kiss was sloppy, wasn't it? I knew I should have practiced more."

Practiced more? I'd wring the neck of any guy who dares come close to her, let alone kiss her.

I narrow my eyes on her. "What do you mean you should've practiced more?"

"I mean... um… I… um, I'm not really good at any of this."

"What are you talking about? Was that your first kiss?"

She nods. "Yes."

My eyes widen from shock. "But you're not a virgin, right?"

Her gaze drops to the floor and my heart just about does a backflip. I collect myself and put my fingers under her chin so she can look into my eyes. "Being a virgin is nothing to be ashamed about. In fact, you should be proud of yourself."

"So, if I didn't do anything wrong, why did you stop our kiss?"

"Because sweetheart, if I had kissed you for one more second, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from ripping your clothes off and taking you hard and raw. Now, let's eat our pancakes."

I've laid down in bushes filled with mosquitoes and other insects overnight, gone without food for about ten days. Yet, I'm certain that living under the same roof with my little thief without claiming her little virgin pussy and making her mine will be the worst torture of my entire life.