A woman proud of her big breasts and curvy ass. A woman who thrilled at inspiring easy lust in strange men.
She took him faster; her hips fell harder.
“Fuck!” he growled. His arms wrapped around her and the world shifted, and suddenly Jane found herself on her back.
If she’d thought him deep before, she’d been mistaken. Now he slid deep and true and hard, pounding into her.
“Oh…” She sighed. “Oh, yes.” She dug her nails into his ass in case he wasn’t listening.
He fucked her harder, nothing shallow or fast about it.
Chase hooked his arm under her knee and pulled her leg higher. Suddenly he was hitting the exact right spot. A spot she’d forgotten about in the past few years.
“Chase.”
His back grew slick under her grasping hands. His hips slapped into her.
“Yes,” she panted. “Yes. Yes.”
Finally that familiar pressure began to build high in her sex, and every brutal thrust rubbed against it. “Chase!” she screamed, pulling him closer, knowing she was scratching him and not caring in the least. She was too busy coming her heart out, her hips jerking hard against his thrusts.
She was still distant, floating high above herself, when he roared and drove into her one last time…and then all she could feel was her heart pounding and her breath rushing from her tight throat and his limbs sliding slick and sweaty against hers.
Wow, her mind whimpered. Oh, wow. Just…wow.
He was breathing even harder than her, his forehead pressed into the mattress next to her ear. Aware now of her clutching fingers, Jane relaxed her hands and smoothed them over his back. His breath hitched. She pressed a tiny kiss to the edge of his tattoo, hoping he wouldn’t notice and mistake it for attachment.
That had been…amazing. Unbelievable. Sure, she’d wanted some sort of sexual miracle. She’d wanted him rough and big and dirty and, most important, good in bed. But there’d been a small chance he could’ve been just as awful in bed as Greg.
It was a chance she’d been willing to take. And it had paid off in spades.
Chase slid his arm free and let her leg fall back to the mattress. Slowly, slowly he slipped out of her body before rolling to his side with a groan.
Parts of her ached. Parts that hadn’t ached in a very long time. Jane quietly stretched, listening to her muscles sing. Oh, yeah.
“Jane?” Chase whispered.
She tilted her head toward him.
“Damn. That was… Damn.”
“Yeah.” She smiled. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you.”
Well, on top of everything else he was polite.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. Hungry? Before she could shake her head, he nodded. “I’m starving. I’m going to jump in the shower and then I’ll make us a snack. Stay there.”
Jane felt a twinge of stark regret. She didn’t want to get up yet. Her muscles were still warm and melting. And Chase was being surprisingly…sweet.
He pushed up from the bed and walked toward the bathroom.
“Chase?”
He tossed a smile over his tattooed shoulder. “Yeah?”
What could she say? You’re amazing? You’re wonderful? I’m sorry for what I’m about to do? Jane cleared her throat. “Thanks for celebrating my birthday with me.”
Chase winked. “You’re pretty fucking welcome. I’ll be right back and we can celebrate again if you want.”
Letting her head sink to the mattress, Jane sighed. Where did he get so much energy? She’d never seen a guy so wide-awake after sex, and he was putting a crimp in her plan.
The shower started. The bathroom echoed with the sound of his whistling. Whistling? Jane frowned at the ceiling. He should have just rolled off her and started snoring. Then she could have gotten out of here without the guilt that was twisting through her chest.
“Crud,” Jane groused, but as soon as she heard the shower door thud closed, she got up, pulled on her clothes and walked out.
“Thank you, Chase,” she whispered as she closed the door. It had been a lovely fantasy, but now she had to get back to her real life. Or her fake life. Whatever it was, Chase didn’t fit into it.
THERE WAS NO QUESTION about it. Her real life sucked donkeys. And her brother was an asshole.
She winced at the uncharitable, vulgar thought about the little boy she’d spent countless hours babysitting. He’d been a sweet kid. Too sweet. Their mother had let him get away with murder, hiding his transgressions from his father.
But apparently the police didn’t think he was cute. He hadn’t been released. And on top of that, Jane was spending her Saturday at her parents’ house, watching the sheriff serve a search warrant.
She snuck a peek at her stepfather, who was leaning against the kitchen counter, looking as if he didn’t want to be in his own home.
If her mother had made Mac aware, he wouldn’t have let Jessie get away with things like shoplifting gum from the gas station or lying to his teachers about why he hadn’t done his homework.
But Mom had always loved bad boys, of course. And her enabling love had let Jessie grow up into a slacker who figured he could charm his way out of anything. If it wasn’t for the large and very intimidating presence of his father, Jessie probably would have been a complete waste. As it was, he at least pretended to try to find a job.
But now the deputies were getting ready to search Jessie’s room and the rest of the basement. They hadn’t gotten access to the rest of the house, anyway, and that just might save her stepdad’s sanity.
Mac crossed his arms, face red and eyes narrowed. He’d backed into the kitchen, separating himself from everyone to help control his temper, a gesture Jane recognized. His appearance was frightening and his temper was real, but he’d spent the past twenty years doing everything he could to stay out of prison. His quiet anger filled the room, but he didn’t give it a voice.
Her mom, on the other hand, cried loudly, hands clutching the warrant. “But he didn’t do anything!” Her conviction was incredibly real considering she had no idea why the cops were there.
They were from the county sheriff’s department, but the warrant had come from Aspen. At least the family knew where Jessie was being held now—right in Jane’s backyard.
“All right,” Jane said to the female deputy keeping her company, the one making sure she didn’t destroy any evidence. Her mother had her own personal keeper and the
