Page 8 of Chase’s Kind of Trouble (Obsessive Protectors #3)

EIGHT

Chase

Her confusion shouldn’t be so adorable. But everything about her is. That sly little sexy grin especially rocks me.

I’m…completely obsessed.

Her pretty fingers were lying on my chest while she dreamt. Safe. Where she belongs.

She welcomes my kiss with a matched hunger. She’s perfect for me.

Like peanut butter and jelly. Chocolate and strawberries. Coffee and cold winter mornings. We’re made to be together.

“I think maybe I woke up in another dimension,” she whispers, a dazed, happy expression on her pretty face.

I close my eyes, savoring, capturing that vision. Her in delirious awe. I can’t wait to see the way she looks when I blow her world wide open with everything I plan to do for her.

Physical. Emotional. Everything.

My tone is deep and thick with feeling when I finally speak. “This is a whole new world.”

Silence sets up in my living room like a warm summertime fog drifting off the river, floating across fields of swaying grass.

“You’re some kind of warrior, aren’t you?”

“A former SEAL.”

Finally she relaxes against me… her body any way. But her mind is whirring loudly, more so by the minute.

“I’m not dangerous to you, unless you count what we’ll do together in bed,” I murmur as I feed my fingers into her hair, setting the strands free from the braid. “But I’ll never raise a hand to you, baby. And now, anyone who does something to you…I’m lethal.”

“I saw.” She swallows loudly. “You were going to kill my stepbrother.”

That word hits different, soothing a banked fire inside of my gut.

“He’s never been your boyfriend?”

“No!” Her mouth droops into a frown which she follows with a little eye-roll. “I’ve never had one of those. Knowing how my life usually goes, I avoid men. I’ll probably die an old, lonely virgin.”

Jesus. H.

A virgin.

The rhythm of my heart goes haywire. My cock unfurls even longer, fuller than the state it’s been for hours.

I will be the only one. The sun to her solar system.

This revelation nearly makes my heart explode.

“I’m here now,” I profess. “Your boyfriend.”

She startles. “Wait…let’s talk about what you said in the alley. You were watching me at the restaurant tonight.”

Not a question.

“I was. I have been keeping an eye on your for while. You caught my attention the very first time I saw you months ago.”

This time her inhale is louder and sharper. Worry clouds her gaze.

I breathe for a few seconds, trying to dial down the fire inside of me, but my thermostat seems to be fucked up.

“I wanted you.” I say with emotion balling up in my chest. “Then I saw you were upset tonight and every protective instinct inside of me became super-charged.”

For a beat she’s silent. Still as stone.

“I don’t know what to say,” she admits, a shiver wracking her small frame, color creeping up her delicate skin. “I just can’t believe you came out there…that you cared enough to stop him…”

When her words trail off, broken, I have to swallow a knife blade that’s been stuck in my throat.

“That bastard is lucky he’s going to live to see another sunrise.”

Visions of finishing the man off sprout off like fireworks in my head.

My tone grows gruff. I can hardly contain a yell of fury when a vision pops up of him hitting this gentle creature. “What did he want?”

“Money.”

My attention sharpens.

With a pained, mirthless laugh, she spreads her hand across my stomach, stroking my abs almost mindlessly. “He’s got something I need, and he’s basically blackmailing me.”

“You need money?” I don’t know why I ask this because I know she does. She works too hard. Her car is beat. She’s living in a crappy apartment. I know all these things well.

She tilts her face and blinks oddly at me. “Don’t we all?”

“I’m set. Got more than enough. Not bragging, but I’m well invested, played things smart while I was in the Navy. My skillset draws high-paying contracts and now I work because I want to work. But I’ve got more than enough to take care of you.”

For a second this sinks in, then she sputters, “Care of me?”

“That’s right.”

Her worry about whatever that dickhead stepbrother is involved with is over. But a single question is like a piranha chewing on my brain.

“Has he hit you before?”

She stiffens a little next to me, her breath going shallow. “I don’t like to talk about that…”

I tilt her face so we’re able to see each other. Really look at one another. Soul-to-soul.

“I’m sorry, angel,” I rasp, losing myself in her eyes.

God, I love how blue they are. The color of mountain lakes in winter. But it’s what’s behind them that drowns me. Sadness. Longing.

The need to be loved.

“You don’t have to ever talk about that again. Or worry about him. That’s over.”

I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I don’t care who Jeremy fuck face is. He won’t get close to my Celeste again.

But she’s not convinced. Yet. I can see the doubt, and understand the reason behind her shaky exhale.

“You don’t know Jeremy. He’s trouble.”

When I drag my thumb across her lower lip, my pulse throbs inside my ribcage. “Celeste, I’ll make sure of it.”

She looks at me for a few seconds before she swallows nervously. Mist building in her eyes. “Chase. You can’t promise.”

Oh god. I groan, rumble. Ache. “Say it again.”

“What?” she whispers.

“My name. I need to hear it in your angel’s voice.”

There’s a weird sensation inside of me as I wait.

Those can’t be butterflies in my chest. No. It’s impossible. SEAL’s don’t get fucking butterflies.

But then she says my name again. Soft as a gentle wind. Husky as sin, with telling heat climbing up her delicate face.

“Chase.”

Growling, I roll her below me.