CHAPTER FOUR
ABBY
“And then, my daddy told me I could never eat cherry sno-cones again, at least until I learned how not to make it look like I was a vampire,” I laughed, slurping the rest of my Cherry Coke.
Mentioning my father had been hard, at first. But, once I started sharing the stories from my childhood, I couldn't stop. Chase just sat there and stared at me, an almost startled look on his face. He'd finished his chicken fried steak, and I was now done with my dinner too.
I'd done most of the talking while we ate, and he just silently listened to me ramble on. He seemed content to listen though – well, except that maybe the story about my dad almost rushing me to the hospital because it looked like I'd been feeding off the dead had been a little too much for him.
“Sorry, I sometimes talk way too much for my own good,” I said, reaching for my bag.
“No, no, it's fine,” he said as he reached for his wallet. “And put that way. I got this.”
A smile pulled at my lips, but I shook my head, “No way, cowboy. I keep dragging you out of your comfort zone. At least let me pay for my own food. You've done enough for me already.”
The waitress came over to our table with the check, and Chase grabbed it from her hand before I could stop him. I tried to argue, but he'd already passed on his debit card to the woman before I could do anything about it.
“Seriously, I owe you big time,” I said. “Let me buy you a drink, at least?”
He scratched his beard and studied me for a long time. He hadn't answered me by the time the waitress returned with his card, so I asked again.
“Let me buy you a drink, Chase,” I said. “It's the least I can do.”
“You don't have to do anything,” he said. “It's just who I am. I'm not going to make a little girl walk into town – ”
“I'm not a little girl, Chase,” I said. “I'm a grown woman.”
“Alright, I'm not going to make a grown woman walk into town by herself if I can help it,” he said. “And a man always picks up the check. It's just how things are done.”
“A little old-fashioned, don't you think?”
“It's who I am,” he said.
“Yeah, well – I'm thinking about getting a drink anyway,” I said. “Care to join me?”
Maybe I was lonely. Maybe I just felt bad for using Chase for rides into town and now for a free meal. Whatever the reason, I really wanted him to join me. I wasn't used to being by myself all day, every day. I didn't have a single friend in this pitiful excuse for a town and it sucked. Chase was the first friendly – or at least, semi-friendly – face that I'd met since I got here, when he wasn’t telling me how much he liked being left alone.
Not to mention, he wasn't too bad on the eyes either. Not that I needed a rebound, it had only been a few weeks since I'd ended things with Paul, after all. But, if I were in the market for one, Chase would have been prime picking.
He was the exact opposite of my ex in every way; built and strong, a chiseled jaw and face with soft, brown eyes. Not to mention that sweet Texas drawl that just about soaked my panties whenever I heard it.
“Fine,” he said after a while. “But only one drink, and only because I don't want you walking home by yourself drunk.”
“Sure,” I laughed.
I grabbed my purse and, together, we walked out of the restaurant. I followed Chase since he knew this town better than I did. He walked me across the street to a bar that looked like it was about the size of my dorm room back in college.
He swung the door open and country music spilled out – because, of course it did. Chase held the door open for me, and I resisted giving him the lecture about how I could hold open my own doors. He was merely being nice, and there was no reason to jump down his throat for an old-fashioned belief system. For all I knew, he'd have held the door open for anyone, not just a woman, which was the polite thing to do.
Chase took a seat at the bar and I sat down beside him. The place was nearly empty, but there were a few guys at the other end of the bar slamming back beers with a glassy look in their eyes. They'd been here a while, obviously.
The bartender was a woman with gray hair pulled back in a loose braid down her back. Her face was wrinkled with age, but there was a soft smile and gentle eyes that were absolutely beautiful. She must have been a stunner back in her younger years. Hell, she still was a stunner for a woman old enough to be my grandmother.
“Long time, no see, stranger,” she said, winking at Chase.
“Hey, Patsy,” he replied. “Meet Abby. She's new in town.”
Patsy's eyes drifted over me and her smile grew even wider. “Nice to meet you, Abby,” she said.
“Nice to meet you too,” I said, offering her my hand.
She shook it, giving my hand a nice, tight grip. She gave Chase an inscrutable look, some silent communication passing between them, and I saw what I took to be color rising in his cheeks.
“The usual for you, Chase?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said.
“And you, pretty lady?” she asked, turning to me.
“Whatever he's having,” I said weakly.
She cocked an eyebrow at me, then turned to Chase.
“You heard the woman,” Chase said, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “She'll have what I'm having.”
“Alright then,” Patsy said. “Coming right up.”
She grabbed a bottle from underneath the counter, set a couple of glasses down in front of her, and poured. She added just a tiny bit of ice and slid the glasses across the bar to us. Whatever it was, it was straight.
“What do we have here?” I asked.
I raised the glass to my nose and took a whiff of it. The alcohol burned my nostrils, and even though I tried not to, I crinkled my face up in disgust as I sat the glass down.
“Whiskey. Straight. Just a little ice,” Patsy said.
She had her hands on her hips and watched me, an amused look etched on her face.
“Whiskey, huh,” I said. “Can't say I've ever tried it.”
“Would have surprised me if you had,” Chase said.
“Hey, we have whiskey in San Francisco,” I countered, but he was smiling at me, clearly trying to get a rise from me. It worked. “Fine, a toast then.”
“A toast to what?”
“To my new life in Texas and to trying new things,” I said, clinking my glass to Chase's.
We both took a drink from our glasses. Chase took a long swallow before putting the glass down. I'd barely taken a sip, the alcohol burning as it moved down my throat. I felt it sliding all the way down my esophagus, then traveling all the way to my stomach. It burned like hell, but I wasn't about to show any signs of weakness, so I feigned a smile.
“Delicious,” I lied, feeling the tears welling in my eyes.
Chase continued watching me, taking another big pull from his glass. I didn't reach for a second drink. Maybe this wasn't the start of a love affair with whiskey, but at least I could say that I'd tried it.
“Here, let me get you something else,” Patsy said. “On the house, darlin'.”
“No, that's fine,” I argued.
Chase reached for my glass and pulled it over to him. I knew my act had failed. They weren't buying it.
“Fine,” I laughed. “I'll just have a beer.”
“You know we don't serve any of that fancy IPA bullshit here, right?” Patsy said, amusement coloring her tone. “We drink real beer here in the country, not what you city folk are used to.”
“That's okay. Give me whatever you got,” I said.
I sounded less confident than when I'd ordered the whiskey, but hey, at least with beer, it wouldn't burn so much going down. Patsy, however, got to work on something else and put it down in front of me. I looked at it like it was a coiled rattlesnake, ready to strike, as apprehension filled my gut. Patsy and Chase both looked at me, a mischievous glint in their eyes.
“It's a Whiskey Sour,” Patsy said. “Go on, try it.”
Whiskey in the name didn't make me feel entirely confident, but I put the glass to my lips to show them I wasn't afraid – even though I really was. Tentatively, I took a sip and was met with a sour, lemony flavor and just a hint of sweetness. With wide eyes, I smiled.
“This is actually really good,” I said, hearing the shock even in my own voice.
Patsy gave me a knowing smile. “The lemon counteracts the whiskey, while the sugar tones down the lemon just a tad.”
“It's actually really refreshing,” I said. “I'm – shocked.”
Patsy winked and went to fill up the drinks for the guys at the end. Chase was on his second glass of whiskey – the leftovers of my glass.
“So much for just one drink,” I said.
“Couldn't let good whiskey go to waste,” he said. “That's almost a crime around here.”
I stared at Chase long and hard, his chiseled features softening. He stared down at the glass in his hand, a longing in his eyes I'd not seen in him before. Maybe the alcohol was making him emotional, or perhaps there was a memory here he was reliving. Whatever it was, it made me sad to see it.
An upbeat country song came on and a few women were out on the dance floor, shaking their drunken asses and having some fun. Hating to see Chase all mopey and blue, I grabbed his hand and pulled him off his seat.
“Come on,” I said.
“Where are we going?” he asked, looking a bit startled.
“To dance, silly,” I said.
Chase pulled his hand from mine and returned to the bar, clutching the remnants of the glass of whisky like it was a life preserver and we were out in the middle of the ocean.
“Nope,” he said stubbornly. “I don't dance, Abby.”
“You don't dance?” I exclaimed. “Not even with me?”
I started moving my hips as I ran my hands up and down over the length of my body. I swished to the rhythm of a song I'd never heard before in my life because country music had never been my thing. But, truth be told, it had a nice, poppy beat to it. I had to admit, it wasn't what I usually thought country music to be – they didn't mention a single thing about pickup trucks or cheating wives, so that was a plus.
Dancing was always something I enjoyed, no matter the music. It had been too long since I'd gone out dancing with friends, and honestly, I missed it. As the music filled me, I closed my eyes, turning on the dance floor and felt the beat moving through me. I didn't care who saw me or what Chase thought of me, I just danced for myself. Danced for finding my freedom again. At last.
When the song ended, a slower, older country song came on. Something that would need a partner. I turned toward Chase and contemplated asking him. His brown eyes were locked on me and he was leaning his back against the bar, his legs spread, and my eyes moved down his chest until it locked on his crotch.
A visible erection was almost too obvious for me to deny, and color rushed into my cheeks as I saw that he bulged against his tight blue jeans while he watched me. It was a large bulge at that – one that made me feel woozy even thinking about.
I joined him at the bar again, trying my best not to look at what he was packing in his jeans – and failing miserably. When I finally tore my eyes away and looked up at him, I felt the heat flushing my cheeks seeing the wide smile on his face. He'd finished his second whiskey and Patsy had another drink waiting for me. I drank about half of it down in one gulp, dying of thirst from just the little bit of dancing I'd done. Sweat dripped from my brow and I wiped it away, hoping it explained the color in my face.
“Have fun out there?” he asked, a sleepy grin on his face.
“It would have been more fun if you'd joined me,” I teased.
“Sorry,” he said and shrugged. “Like I said, I don't dance.”
“Party pooper,” I said, playfully punching him in the arm.
The alcohol was hitting me, but only a bit, and only in the right ways. It was loosening me up more and more, and I was feeling good. Maybe even more like my real self. I no longer felt awkward or intimidated by Chase and, judging by the way he looked at me, he could see it too. I noticed that some of that sadness I'd seen in him earlier had vanished from his eyes.
Seeing that made me feel good. Like, maybe, him coming out with me tonight was good for him too.
I didn't know what got into me, maybe it was the booze, but I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. A playful peck and nothing more. Or, so I thought, anyway. As I pulled away, a smile on my face, Chase grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into him. He pressed his mouth to mine, his tongue pushing its way past my teeth.
My entire body relaxed into him.
“Chase,” I muttered against his lips.
I was so taken aback by his kiss, but I couldn't deny that it felt good, that it felt right. Electricity coursed through my body, and I felt lightheaded. I wanted to keep kissing him, so I did. I grabbed onto his beard and pulled him back to me, my hands trailing along his jaw line and down to his chiseled chest. The muscles worked under his shirt, tightening as I ran my fingers over them.
God, he was so strong and good and kind – everything Paul hadn't been. Chase was a good man, a decent man, and I wanted him so badly. I wanted to experience something, anything with him. Another celebratory act of freedom from my abuser. Another step to reclaiming my life and myself. I wanted Chase then, right there in the bar, and part of me didn't care who knew.
From the way his mouth fed on mine, the heat and passion in his kiss, I could tell that he obviously wanted me too. I took his hand, and he knew what I wanted. He stood up and, together, we walked toward the back of the bar. He led the way into one of the single stall restrooms, and as soon as the door was closed behind us, he had me pressed up against the wall, pinning me to it with his hard, toned body.
“Fuck, I have been trying to resist you so hard,” he growled, his lips pressing against my neck.
His beard scratched against my skin as he kissed his way down my neck, trailing his lips down to my collarbone. At the same time, his hands moved up my thighs. The very pronounced bulge in his jeans pressed into my belly, hard and demanding.
I whimpered as he pushed himself into me, lifting me up as if I weighed nothing. Chase held me up, my feet dangling above the floor. I wrapped my legs around his waist as my hands reached for his buckle. Nothing else mattered in that moment except our bodies. The heat between us. The fire burning between my thighs.
I needed him inside of me right that goddamn minute.
I slipped a bit, and Chase grabbed onto my ass, holding me in place against the grimy brick wall. When we struggled to get his pants down, he carried me over to the sink and sat me down on the lip of it, taking a small step back. I slipped my hands down his pants and felt him for the first time, which made that hunger inside of me explode to life.
With wide eyes, I stared back at him, a smile curling my lips upward.
He was thick and long, and every bit as magnificent as I imagined him to be after seeing him at the bar, hard and ready for me earlier. Feeling him in my hand was an entirely different experience though, and I gripped him tight, stroking him a few times. As I jacked him off, he let out a soft moan and his eyes rolled back in his head.
My hand glided across his smooth skin, moving up and down his thick shaft. I watched the look of absolute pleasure roll across his face and just seeing that raw hunger in his eyes got me even wetter.
“Fuck me,” he growled.
“Yes, please,” I teased.
His eyes flew open and stared at me for a long second, his eyes burning with desire. There was so much heat in those deep, brown eyes of his, that it made the room around us feel even warmer. Sweat continued to build along my brow as he looked me up and down, drinking me in with his eyes. The pure lust I saw in his face made me quiver and weak in the knees. There was no doubt in my mind what he wanted to do with me – and I welcomed it wholeheartedly.
With his pants slipped down to his hips, he stepped toward the sink and pressed himself into me. His hard cock pressed against the warm wet center of me, fueling my own need. My panties kept him from entering me, but that was it. His hard cock pushed against the silky material, nearly slipping into me anyway. He groaned, a sound of ragged desperation rolling through his body. He kissed me long and hard as he reached down and slipped my panties aside. Then, with one, deep thrust, he parted my lips and buried himself into my warm, wet folds.
I cried out as he filled me up, a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretched me wide open and filled me up with his rigid cock. As the sensations rolled through my body, I let my head fall forward, resting it on his shoulder as my body got used to his size. He paused, giving us both a moment to adjust; a moment both of us spent enjoying the sensation of our bodies being united. When I looked into his eyes, he gave me a small grin and started rocking back and forth. Slowly, he slid from my depths, his cock sliding out almost completely, before he pumped his hips and pounded that stiff prick back into me, making the sink vanity shake like we were having an earthquake.
I wrapped my arms around Chase's neck, and my legs around his waist. I held on for dear life as he fucked me right there on the sink, pounding himself into me over and over again. My body adjusted to his in no time, taking his length and girth with ease, and soon enough, we were going at it hard and fast.
I bit down on his shoulder to drown out the screams that were building inside of me. It was probably unnecessary, given that my cries would probably be drowned out by the loud country music playing in the bar outside the bathroom door. Still, I wasn't going to take any chances. I shuddered hard, tightening my grip around his body, feeling utterly lost in the moment and controlled by the pleasure coursing through me. As he moved inside of me, it felt like me every nerve ending was on fire.
“Yes, Chase, oh God,” I muttered, lifting my head and nibbling along his neck.
The scruff of his beard rubbed against my face, and I closed my eyes, breathing in his musky scent, feeling the passion exploding in me like bombs going off. His breathing was heavy and ragged as he continued fucking me with such precision and yet, such desperation. He grunted and groaned, a deep, rumbling sound in his throat, and I knew he was close.
As was I.
My pussy tightened around him as my climax hit me hard, making me push myself forward against him, taking that hard, glorious cock even deeper inside of me. Chase's lips met mine and I poured all my screams and cries of ecstasy into his mouth. He continued pumping his hips, making my legs quiver with the shockwaves of sensations moving through me.
Chase was also starting to tremble and there was a fevered, almost frantic look in his eyes. He held my hips down against the vanity with his large, calloused hands, as he thrust into me one last time. His mouth pulled away from mine, and I looked him in the eye as he grimaced and groaned.
“Oh, fuck yes,” he croaked. “Fuck yes, Abby.”
I knew there was no turning back. I felt his cock stiffen even more, a moment before it began to throb and pulse. He exploded inside of me, filling me with his hot, sticky seed. Together, we rode out the waves of pleasure consuming us, coming hard and loud, not even caring if anyone outside the bathroom heard us or not. All that mattered was the feeling. The sensation. The pleasure.
My body was still shaking when he slipped out of me, a warm rush of fluid following him, and his cock going flaccid against his body. He pulled up his pants and barely looked at me, seeming almost embarrassed or shy. But, when he did finally look at me, his eyes were wide and filled with both shock and fear.
“I'm sorry, Abby,” he said. “I shouldn't have – ”
I reached out to him, taking his cheek in my hand. “Chase, it's fine,” I said. “I wanted it. You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“We – we shouldn't have done that,” he growled.
“Why not?” I said, slipping down from the sink.
My panties slipped back into place as I moved, thankfully, catching more of his warm seed as it slid out of me. It felt so nice, and yet, I hated seeing Chase all torn up about what had happened. Hated seeing the regret in his eyes.
“If you're worried I'm going to tie you down or expect too much, you don't have to worry,” I say. “I'm actually not looking for a boyfriend.”
He shook his head, muttering under his breath. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I just can't.”
“Chase,” I said, stepping in front of him before he could leave the restroom. “Chill out. It's okay. We had sex. Big deal. There's nothing wrong with two people letting loose and having a little fun. There's nothing wrong with two grown, consenting adults enjoying one another's bodies. God knows, we could apparently both use it.”
His face softened as he stared down into my eyes, but it was gone a moment later. Gone, like it had never been. He shook his head again, wiping his hand across his face, making a dry, scratchy sound against his beard. The sadness I'd seen in him before was back. Worse than that, it seemed to have tripled in its intensity. He was distant, so far away from here, and I had no idea how to bring him back to me.
“Chase, please, let's talk.”
“There's nothing to talk about, Abby. I'm going for a walk,” he said.
He pushed past me and headed for the door, but paused before going through it.
“I'm sorry,” he muttered, his back still to me, before walking out and letting the door close behind him.