“Watch where you’re walking,” Landon responds, his tone low and menacing. I clear my throat, trying to get rid of the sudden lump forming, and Landon slowly draws his attention from Chasen to me. My chest constricts, and my stomach falls.
“Charlie,” he mutters. His eyes shine, and the way he says my name sounds like a prayer slipping from his lips. He winks, and my panties go damp. My chest nearly explodes with admiration. His face is so perfect. Even the way he talks is perfect.
“Hi,” I reply weakly.
Chasen’s chest begins to rise and fall rapidly with rage, his eyes darting between Landon and me.
He steps over and grabs my hand. “Let’s get out of here, Charlie.” He drags me toward his truck and away from Landon. I can’t help but look over my shoulder to get one more glimpse at Landon, the way his dark hair shifts in the wind, and how he jerks his tie angrily. It’s a sight that would make any woman fall to her knees. I wonder what the hell happened between Landon and Chasen. Clearly, there’s some tension between the two.
“So, where are we going?” I ask, searching for my seatbelt.
“Somewhere quiet,” he mutters, pulling out onto the street. I peer under my lashes at Chasen, who’s clearly upset. His face is red, his jaw clenched. He has one hand over the steering wheel, and we’re going way over the speed limit. I fiddle with my hands nervously, the question I want to ask dangling in the air between us like bait waiting for a shark. I blow a steady breath and go for it.
“What was all that about?” I furrow my brows and watch his reaction.
Chasen scoffs and rubs at his chin.
“That ol’ man just has it out for me. Because he has money, he thinks he can just do whatever he wants,” he replies, his face even redder by the end. I bite my inner cheek and look out the window. I don’t know Landon, but the couple of times I met him, I didn’t get the impression he was some rich asshole. Rich, yes, but not an asshole.
Riding in the truck, the windows down and a warm breeze blowing through, Chasen grasps my hand resting on the seat. I peer up at him as he focuses on the road. Butterflies swarm in my stomach, making me fidget in my seat. I have never had a boyfriend before, never had a guy interested in me who looked as sexy as Chasen. It all feels too surreal. Living in foster care, not having the nicest of things, not many boys looked my way.
Chasen pulls onto a dirt road, the sun resting on the horizon warning us of its departure.
Passing a ‘closed’ sign, I give Chasen a concerned look.
“It says closed,” I point out.
“Yeah, so?” he replies, shrugging. I smirk at his rebel behavior and shrug myself, sitting back in the seat.
He pulls over and turns the truck off. Looking out the window, I notice a small lake with palm trees planted nicely around it, and little picnic benches scattered here and there. There’s yellow caution tape around areas, with small yellow tractors parked nearby. It looks like this place is still under construction.
“Come on,” Chasen mumbles, getting out of the truck. I hop out and shut the door, the sound of it closing echoes through the deserted area.
Chasen walks up behind me, placing both of his hands on my hips possessively. He nips my shoulder with his teeth, causing my body to drum with that delicious ache from when I gave him head for the first time.
“Come on, let’s check it out.” He pushes on my back, urging me forward.
We make our way up the lake, the smell of dirty water strong.
“Got a big game tomorrow,” Chasen explains, looking out across the distance. “Scouts coming in, my father on my ass. It’s fucking stressful,” he mutters.
“I bet,” I reply, resting against one of the yellow tractors. I actually have no idea what kind of stress he’s under. To have a parent believe in you so much it stresses you out, I’ve never experienced it. Chasen turns, looking at me with a mischievous grin.
“You’re sexy as hell, do you know that?”
“Do you tell all the girls that line?” I sass. Chasen laughs and runs his hand over his chin. He walks toward me, grabs my backside and pulls me in close. My eyes widen, my mouth parting with a thirst of longing.
He runs a hand between my thighs, making my legs part and my head fall back against the large tire belonging to the machine behind me.
He rubs his fingers back and forth over the material of my underwear, causing me to pant with the incredible pressure building.
“You like that?” he whispers roughly. I nod, fevering myself onto his fingers. The intensity climbs, turning into a warmth that envelops my whole lower half.
“Yeah?” he pants arrogantly, rubbing harder. His other hand comes up and grabs my tit hard, causing me to moan.