“Sure.”
I went to the stereo and picked out an blues play list that fit my mood. Chase turned to me, holding out a martini. “Want to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” I asked, shamelessly taking a huge sip of my drink.
“About whatever is making you tense and play sad music.”
“I knew the music thing was some kind of test,” I said, squinting my eyes at him. “Sneaky.”
He smiled, shrugging. “It's a good way to get an idea what kind of mental state a pat... someone is in.”
A patient.
A patient.
He had a slip that revealed exactly what I needed to hear. That I was a patient. Nothing more.
“Clever,” I said, finishing my drink and putting it down next to the decanters. “I'm assuming this is a clothes-off session again,” I said, watching him watch me, his eyes dark as he considered me.
“Yes.”
“Okay,” I said, my strong sense of self-preservation letting me push past my normal insecurities as I reached for my jeans and slipped out of them. Then my shirt. My hands were at my bra before he spoke.
“Ava... what's going on?”
“What do you mean? I asked, shrugging, but not finishing unclasping my bra. “This is what I am supposed to be doing, right?”
“Maybe if you communicated with me instead of assuming things, you would already know the answer to that.” He sighed, putting his drink down. “Talk to me.”
“It's nothing. Jake said something that put me in a bad mood.” And then you almost said something that confirmed the stupidity of my one-sided crush.
“Come here,” he said, holding out his arms.
And, helpless to do anything but, I walked into them. He held me, silently, for a long time before finally speaking. “Tonight, I wanted to undress you.”
Oh.
Well.
I fucked that up for myself, didn't I?
“Sorry,” I mumbled against his shirt.
“It's okay. I still have some things to remove,” he said, his hands moving up my back to where my bra still had two clasps holding it closed.
“Am I going to undress you?”
“Yeah, baby,” he murmured against my hair.
My hands moved up between us, grabbing his shirt and pulling it up out of his pants, then moving my fingers to work on the buttons. Against me, Chase went still. Surprised, I was sure, that I was willing to take the lead without encouragement. So was I to an extent. And the motives were mixed. On one hand, I was trying to move things along. Keep things on schedule. Try not to drag it out and make myself suffer or let myself think there was more to it than there was. On the other hand, I just needed to feel him against me. His warm skin, the evidence of his strength in his muscles.
My hands at the top, I slipped my hands under, pushing his shirt and his jacket back and he released me so the material could slide from his arms. One of his hands rested lightly on my hip, the other going to the side of my neck.
“Ava...”
I shook my head, looking down and watching as I unbuckled his belt, removed it, and started to the fly of his slacks. My hands paused, and I took a deep breath and quickly pushed them off. Then, before I could let myself think about it, I grabbed the waistband of his boxer briefs and pulled down.
He was already hard.
He really did have a perfect cock. Shay would love to hear about it. I felt a laugh rise in my throat and fought to keep it in, because, well, it would be pretty awful to laugh when you're looking at someone's junk.
“Ava,” he said in that tone. That tone that said look at me. My eyes drifted slowly upward, taking in his abs then the chest I liked to rest on, then finally to his gorgeous scruffy face. “While I'm glad you're taking the lead, babe,” he started, his hand going to the side of my face, “I want to make sure it's for the right reasons.”
“Are there wrong reasons to undress you?” I countered, running my hands down his stomach.
He made a growling noise, taking a deep breath. “Fine. I'll let it go for now. But I will get to the bottom of it eventually. Go get on the bed.”
It occurred to me as I laid down, watching him walk toward me, gloriously naked, that I still didn't know what we would be doing.
But then he was in the bed, looming slightly over me as he reached behind my back and unclasped my bra. He left the cups to cover me as he slid the straps down my arms. Then, very slowly, he inched the black material away, revealing me. Then his hand reached out, ever so slightly brushing over my breast.
So that was what we were doing.
And, also, oh my god.
There was an instant shiver, and a slow awakening of desire between my thighs. His eyes lifted to mine, heavy-lidded and beautiful, then his hand did another brush, this time he was watching my face for my reaction. I felt my lips part, my back arching into his hand. His fingers moved to my nipple, gently rolling it between them, making me suck in a shaky breath. “You okay?” he asked, looking as turned on as I suddenly felt.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice sounding foreign: airy, needy.
“Thank god,” I said, taking my other nipple in his other hand and continuing his slow, sweet torment. “You have no idea how hard it has been not to touch you.” Under his inspection, my breasts felt heavy, my nipples more sensitive than I knew they were capable of being and it felt like there was a connection from his hands to my sex which felt tight and desperate for relief. “This is what we are doing this session,” he said, watching his hands. “I am going to touch you here,” he said, then one of his hands moved slowly down the center of my belly and rested the palm against the juncture of my thighs, “and here.”
Oh, my.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
But at the same time, I wasn't sure how that would go.
“Look at me, Ava,” he said, one of his hands still cupping my breast, the other covering my heat. “I am going to touch you. And you are going to touch me.”
Okay.
I was pretty sure I could do that.
Maybe.
“Do you think it would be better for me to touch you first or...”
“Me touch you,” I said before he could even finish.
“You're sure?”
Nope. Not at all.
“Yes.”
“Okay,” he said, removing both his hands and moving to sit next to me, upright against the headboard. “Come here.”
Alright. This was it. I was going to have to touch his cock. The idea settling with both a surge of excitement and dread, making a weird wobbly feeling swirl in my belly.
But I pushed myself up and scooted in beside him, resting my head on my favorite place in the damn world. He reached across his body, taking my hand in his and holding. “You nervous?”
“ A little.”
“A little isn't bad, right?” he asked, his other arm around me, stroking up and down my arm. “Give me a number.”
“Four-ish,” I said, breathing him in.
“I can work with four-ish,” he said, sounding lazy. Like there was no rush. “How about the idea of me touching you?”
“Seven?”
“I can work with that too,” he said, slowly unfolding my hand and flattening it against his chest, his resting on top of mine. “But let's not think about that yet, alright?”
“Alright.”
Then his hand was pressing mine slowly down his body. I watched, my hand all but swallowed up by his as it slid down his chest, over his abs, down the small line of dark hair leading toward his cock. I felt my hand tense, digging into his skin as if I could hold on and he quickly picked it up, turning it, bringing it up and kissing the palm.
But then he was pulling it back down, much more quickly, and my hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Chase exhaled loudly and I felt my hand instinctively tighten around him, holding him “That's it, touch me baby,” he said, his hand moving from mine, settling on his thigh, I guessed, in case I needed help.
Though right in that moment, I didn't. Because I wanted to make him feel good. I wanted to hear his breath whoosh out of his mouth, curse, groan.
My hand stroked upward, my thumb brushing over the head, stroking his wet desire, and drawing my much wanted groan from his lips. Emboldened, I started stroking quickly. Up and down. Then twisting slightly with each stroke. Chase's hand on my arm was digging in painfully, his body stiff underneath me.
“That feels good, baby,” he praised me and it set off a flurry of fluttering in my chest. His hand went over mine for a second, squeezing. “Just a little harder,” he instructed and I did as he said. “Yeah, just like that.”
I lifted my head, sitting up a little straighter so I could watch his face. His head was titled up toward the ceiling, eyes closed. Then, as if sensing me, he looked down and his eyes found mine and stayed there.
“Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his eyes getting heavier. “I'm gonna come,” he told me, the words falling with a small thrill. Because I had never been able to make that happen before. Then his hand positively crushed into my shoulder, his other hand grabbing my wrist hard as he cursed, his body jerking. “Fuck, Ava...” he ground out as he came.
He leaned down a moment later and kissed my forehead, and I smiled up at him with my own internal, victory. Maybe to most, it was small. But to me, it was huge.
He smiled back down at me, knowing, sharing it with me.
“I made you feel good,” I said, a little shyly, knowing it was an immature way to put it, but it was the best I could bring myself to say.