She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife (Natasha and Chase) novel Chapter 160

(Chase)

Saturday is one of mine, but somehow I came to pick up Lily and didn’t leave.

We walked to the park.

We ate lunch, which Lily mostly wore.

We had a bath that flooded a bath mat because waves make Lily giggle.

We read the same board book about a duck four times because Lily loves it.

It’s a bit after seven and I’ve just put her to bed in her skylight room.

Natasha is in the kitchen putting a casserole in the oven.

I’m standing in the doorway watching her.

She’s in jeans and a soft grey jumper, sleeves pushed up.

I’ve been hard for an hour.

I’ve been hard, on and off, all day.

I’ve been semi-hard since Tuesday, when she put her hand flat against my chest and said she wasn’t ready.

I’m thirty-one years old. I haven’t been this horny in a decade.

I also haven’t had sex since the night with Sonia that I can’t remember.

The last night of intimacy that I recall was when Natasha and I made Lily.

She closes the oven, straightens up and sees me in the doorway.

"Forty minutes."

"Mm."

"Are you staying for dinner?"

"If you'll have me."

"I asked, didn't I?"

She walks past me into the living room and I follow.

She picks up her wine.

I declined when she offered me some.

I’m not drinking tonight because I want to know what every single thing I’m about to do is, and I don’t want to be able to blame any of it on a Pinot.

She sits on the couch.

I sit next to her.

Not at the other end. Right next to her.

No cushion between us.

I decided this on the walk back from the park and I’m sticking to it.

"Chase."

"What?"

"You're sitting very close."

"I am. On purpose."

She looks at me over the rim of her glass.

"Alright then."

I take the glass out of her hand and put it on the coffee table.

I do it slowly enough that she could stop me.

She does not stop me, and that’s the only permission I’m asking for tonight.

I kiss her.

It’s not Tuesday's kiss.

Tuesday's kiss was careful.

Tonight I kiss her like a man who’s been starving for this.

I pour every ounce of desire and need into the way my tongue strokes hers.

She makes a small sound into my mouth and I lose another inch of whatever I was going to call composure.

My hand goes up under the back of her shirt, noticing how warm and soft her skin is.

The lust I feel is so overwhelming that I have to stop kissing her for a second to breathe.

She doesn’t let me stop for long.

She pulls me back down, lips open and inviting.

Her hand is in my hair, tugging me closer.

Her other hand is at the front of my shirt, undoing buttons with shaking fingers, and I help her, because I don’t have the patience to wait.

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