“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, lips pressing against my neck. “Think of me when you’re using it?”

“Maybe,” I breathed.

His voice rumbled in his chest. “That’s not an answer.”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good girl.”

His other hand slipped beneath my black T-shirt, his rough palm grazing the side of my ribcage. He squeezed overtop of the thin fabric of my bra. When he rolled my nipple between his thumb and finger, I couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped my lips.

Desire from moments before had surged into all-out need. Nothing else existed besides his body pressed up against mine and his hands coaxing my desire.

“Gonna let me watch you sometime?”

“If you want to.” Then again, in the moment, I would have agreed to anything.

“Very badly,” said Chase. “That falls into my top five fantasies.”

He stroked me again, teasing. Heat flooded my body, and I drew in a soft gasp. “What are the other four?”

He didn’t even miss a beat. “Tying you up, you in a skirt without underwear, truck sex, getting you to talk really dirty to me, and teasing you until you beg me to fuck you.”

“Isn’t that five?” Maybe it wasn’t. Not sure I could count to three, let alone five, with what he was doing to me right now.

He slipped beneath my bra, palming the bare skin. “The last two are interrelated, so I’m counting them as one.”

“You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“Sure have.” His hand beneath my underwear wandered even lower, one finger sliding inside, followed by another.

My knees went soft, and I drew in a breath, steadying myself against him. “The walls are paper thin in this place, remember?”

“So? That didn’t stop us before.”

From downstairs, the doorbell rang.

Well, that sure would.

We froze, then broke apart.

Chase sighed. “That’ll be Ward, half an hour early, which means he’s right on cue to cockblock me. I swear he has the worst timing.”

“I guess we’ll have to make up for it in the new place.”

“Later?” He grinned. “Absolutely. I meant what I said yesterday.”

Oh my.

I quickly refastened my jeans, straightened my T-shirt, and smoothed down my hair. But I still worried that what we’d been doing was obvious.

Chase grabbed the heavy box from earlier. “I’ll run this out while we let him in.”

We descended the stairs, and halfway down, made the unpleasant discovery that it wasn’t Dallas at the door—it was Paul. Here to either visit Amelia or simply to stir up shit.

I lingered awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs while Chase ignored Paul completely, making his way past him toward the front door.

He jutted his chin, his tone taking on an edge. “Heard you were shooting off your mouth about me, Carter.”