“I do, Chase, I do. I feel like crying,” she whispered, breathlessly exhaling the admission. All she had to do was tell him to stop and he would. She wasn’t worried about his stopping; she was terrified he wouldn’t keep going. His thick fingers made little spirals down and back up her thigh as they continued on their quest. When he passed lightly over her sex, it produced an all-consuming throb and she tried to trap his hand there by closing her legs. And he almost allowed it, but then denied her, returning to their quiz.
“That would be a logical guess and totally up there, but that one goes without saying. Try again.”
He continued slowly swirling his fingertips around her thigh before coming to rest possessively on her behind. He gave it a little squeeze followed by a gentle pat.
“I think we reached the end of the riddle.” She sighed softly.
“Ever heard the phrase ‘You won’t be able to sit for week’?” He asked offhandedly, squeezing again. “I almost want to put that one to the test.”
And then he leaned into her. He was full and hard and it pressed into her stomach. He may have teased her to the point of distraction, but there was no denying she had succeeded in arousing him as well, and he wanted her to know it. With her arms still suspended above her head, tight within the sash and his grip, she blinked up at him.
“I certainly deserve it. I’ve been a very bad girl,” Amanda said seductively. He let out a rush of air and his sex pulsated against her.
“And you’re so good at it,” he ground out, releasing her arms, which fell neatly over his head and around his neck as he lifted her. His mouth covered hers just in time to stifle her ecstasy-filled cry when he buried his erection inside her.
CHAPTER 11
“FEEL LIKE TAKING a ride? There’s something I want to show you,” Chase asked Amanda rhetorically one afternoon after he picked her up at her apartment. The enjoyment in their road trips never waned. Moments alone midseason were precious and few. He didn’t say anything more and they drove away from the city and headed northwest. They talked of the usual, how they’d spent the day, the chores they’d done. Amanda asked no questions and made no guesses as to their destination and Chase didn’t give any clues, which had become their standard practice. Surprising each other was a contest, and not always about high stakes. Less than an hour later, they were off the highway and onto picturesque streets. At the intersection of what appeared to be a dirt road, Amanda saw a very familiar black Ford Expedition with tinted windows. Chase gave a haphazard wave in its direction and turned onto the unpaved trail, giving little thought to the damage the uneven terrain might cause to his hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar driving machine.
What has he found now? Amanda smiled to herself, wondering if they were going to spend a half hour marveling at some rock with a plaque near it that said George Washington rested a foot there. Chase loved history, the American Revolution in particular, and New Jersey was lousy with it. She had accompanied him to countless state parks and monuments, but he sometimes also went off the beaten path to lesser-known bridges and barns and battlefields. And it never ceased to amaze her how he could turn from a grown man to an enthusiastic juvenile whenever he encountered them. He took pictures of them with his phone; sometimes video. She recalled one of the rare times he’d pimped out his celebrity status after driving to a site that was now a private home. But the house had been meticulously preserved and was just too authentic for him to pass up. He had pulled in front of it, grabbed a signed baseball out of his trunk, and knocked on the door. And because he was Chase Walker, the proud if not surprised owners had spent nearly two hours giving them a tour. He listened and pondered aloud with the middle-aged couple over iced tea in a pristine garden what it must have been like to have been there, the trials and tribulations of the country’s forefathers forging a nation. She had determined Chase really did have an old soul.
But it turned out they weren’t on a road at all. They were on a driveway, a very long one. It was hard to tell exactly how long, because there were still acres of trees left to be cleared. It led to what Amanda could only describe as a castle. It was vast, complete with a round tower on one end, the kind that Rapunzel would’ve let her hair down from the top of. Only it didn’t look dilapidated and historical. This particular structure looked brand-new. In fact, it looked like it was still under construction. The frame was sturdy and solid, the gray stonework completed, but the walkways were unfinished, much like the driveway. Landscaping had yet to be done. Chase drove up to the front of it and cut the engine.
“We’re here,” he announced happily while jumping out of his side of the car, practically skipping over to hers. He helped her out of the car and together they made their way to the front door. After opening it, Chase lifted Amanda up, cradling her in his arms.
“What are you doing!” she squawked, caught unaware.
“I know it’s not finished and we’re not married, but I’m not taking any chances,” he replied with her securely against him. Then he crossed the threshold and entered the building before setting her down and closing the heavy ornate door behind them.
From the outside, the house looked imposing. From the inside it was immense. After catching her breath, Amanda looked up and around from the imported-marble-floored foyer where they stood. The ceiling was nearly fifty feet above her and there were two grand circular staircases at opposite ends of the foyer that led to the second floor. A large crystal chandelier hung from above her, patiently waiting for its final hookup to illuminate the entranceway. With the implication of his words when he lifted her up settling in, Amanda was speechless.
“Come on,” he coaxed while taking her hand and enjoying her astonishment. “Take a look around while it’s still daylight.”
Chase began to lead her around the first floor of the expansive mansion. The walls were up and plastered, but most rooms were as yet unpainted. The windows were all installed but still needed molding. Random loose electrical wires were exposed and capped. This was obviously a project he had kept to himself for quite a while. They hadn’t even been together a year yet. Either he started building this house the day they met, or he had a lot of people working around the clock.
“I’m leaving all the decorating here to you,’ he announced excitedly when they reached the huge, empty kitchen, “since it’s your specialty and all.”
Amanda nodded mutely, still trying to fully grasp the situation.
Late-day sun streamed in from the sliding glass doors that ran the length of the back of the house. He chattered away enthusiastically about hardwoods and lighting and plumbing fixtures as they continued their tour of the first floor, which consisted of room after spacious room designed for dinning and entertaining, relaxing and living. Many of the rooms had an overhead walkway looking down from the second floor. He took her upstairs where six bedrooms awaited completion, including one in the tower, which was intended to serve as the master suite. It was private and set as far as possible from the rest of the house. It had two rooms plus a bathroom, and the closet was as big as her apartment. She counted seven full and three half bathrooms by the time she was finished with her tour, and they ended back on the ground floor in what resembled a full fairy-tale-style ballroom just beyond the foyer where they first entered.
“This is nothing short of a palace,” Amanda finally said, taking note of the thirty-foot glass doors that went from floor to ceiling in the room and led out to acres of recently cleared land, waiting to be turned into gardens, pools, and tennis courts. “Fit for a king.”