Chapter Ten

Chase

The cot gives a loud creak as I throw myself on top of it, staring at the ceiling. A night breeze drifts in through the open window, bringing with it some of the scent of freshly dried hay and animal manure from the barns. I don’t mind. At least, it cools some of the sweat off my bare chest.

It’s another warm night.

I would have taken a bath but I’m too tired. My trip to Billings and my long list of evening chores, longer because I was gone most of the day, have left me utterly exhausted, my muscles sore.

I place my hand over my broken rib, drawing in a deep breath. It’s starting to hurt again, making me wish I had bought more painkillers while I was out. But then I was occupied with other things.

I pick up the phone beside my pillow, frowning as I hold it up and stare at its empty screen.

James should have contacted me by now but I still haven’t heard from him. Maybe he didn’t go to the mansion yet?

I consider calling him but decide against it. I might catch him at a bad time. Besides, I’m the one asking him a favor so I should be patient.

I place the phone under my pillow beside the gun Isaac gave me then let my arms fall at my sides, letting out a sigh.

Outside, the insects are putting on their concert again, the sound of the breeze providing a regular intermission. In the distance, I hear a lamb bleating but decide it’s no cause for alarm. I can hear an owl hooting from the woods as well.

The low grumble of my stomach adds to the symphony and I place a hand over it. I did eat dinner but not enough, considering there were only sandwiches. Apparently, Lauren didn’t cook dinner because she wasn’t around.

I wonder where she is. At Kelly’s? In the city? What is she doing? Why isn’t she home yet?

I keep myself from worrying, telling myself I have no right to. True, last night, we got carried away and… did some things. But that doesn’t change the way things are. It doesn’t change the reality that I’m just a farmhand and a passing stranger from another world and when all this mess has blown over, I’ll be going back to that world.

A world without Lauren.

That thought makes my chest prick but I ignore it, turning on my side and facing the window, closing my eyes as another strong breeze combs through my hair.

I keep them closed, willing the cool air, the buzzing of crickets, and the heaviness in my muscles to usher me into the peaceful abyss of sleep. Just as I’m on the verge of falling, I hear the door to the barn burst open.

I sit up, my hand automatically reaching for Isaac’s pistol. I leave it under the pillow, though, my grip on its handle loosening as I gaze at Lauren.

She closes the door behind her with as much force as she used opening it, making the barn rattle. She stands a few feet away with her head bowed, tangled wisps of hair hanging over her face and concealing them from view. A familiar-looking scarf hangs loosely from her neck, her shoulders rising and falling as her chest heaves with her efforts to breathe. There’s a stain of sweat on the front of her blouse, growing, while one of her sleeves is speckled with dust.

I stand up and walk toward her. “Lauren?”

She doesn’t answer, simply lifting her head so that her crazed eyes meet mine through the wisps of her hair, some stuck to her forehead. Her lips are parted, quivering.

I reach out to brush the strands off her face but she slaps my arm away and pushes me back with both hands.

“Who are you?”

I wobble. Before I can even get back my footing or think of an answer, she shoves me again. This time, my knees hit the edge of the bed and I fall on it.

“Who the hell are you?” Her voice pierces the silence in the barn and all around as her fists clench at her sides. “Why are you here? What the fuck is going on, Chase?”

I open my mouth but no words come out.

“Oh, wait. It’s not Chase, is it?” she asks more softly. “It’s Chester Donahue.”

The name causes a knot in my throat, recalling that the last time someone else mentioned it, I was left for dead. How does Lauren know about it? Where did she hear it?

Then the scarf falls from her neck, the silk piling up on the floor, and I remember where I’ve seen it.

My eyes grow wide as I stand up slowly. “That woman at the café in Billings? It was you?”

Lauren paces the room. “I knew there was something off about you. Those wounds…”

She points at the cuts and bruises on my chest.

“They’re not normal. And the way you moved, the way you looked. I just knew you didn’t belong here. It’s just wrong, just like it’s wrong for me not to be able to find anything about you in this day and age where everyone can find out something about anyone on the Internet.”

I raise my eyebrows. She’s been searching this whole time?

“And then that officer shows up.” She stops and points out the door. “And you rush off like some snake that’s had its den discovered. Then he tells me he’s looking for Chester Donahue, showing me a picture that looks just like you. Just like you.”

She pokes my chest.

“Imagine my surprise. I’m like ‘You’re kidding, right?’ But I knew he wasn’t so I check the Internet again and this time, I find something. Guess what?”

I don’t answer, my gaze down on the floor.

“An obituary. It said Chester Donahue is dead. Wow.” She grips her hair on the top of her head. “So, you mean this man that… that almost fucked me is a ghost?” She shakes her head. “That can’t be. After all, his kisses were very real. His cock was real. His tongue was real.”

She places her hands on her hips as she stops pacing, panting.

“So I followed you to Billings. I wanted to know what was in Billings, what you were hiding. I almost laughed when I saw you wearing that stupid disguise but hey, I was wearing one, too.”

I remember how she looked in her scarf and sunglasses. I found them silly then but not anymore.

Her arms fall to her sides, her head bowed again. “I followed James, you know, after you left.”

I take a step forward. She did?

“I saw your house, but wait. That’s not right.” She lifts a finger up. “It’s not a house. It’s this mansion that looks like one of those homes they feature on TV. I told myself this can’t be right. That farmhand who’s constantly covered in dirt and hay can’t have lived in this house?” She lifts her head to meet my gaze. “Can he?”

I reach out to touch her arm but she shrugs me off.

“I’m done with the lies and the secrets, Chase or Chester, or whoever you are.” She sinks to the floor, her voice croaking with anguish. “I’m so tired of it all.”

My chest tightens. Seeing her suffering, her face buried in her hands and her shoulders shaking, hearing the pain in her voice, I can barely breathe.

What have I done?

I never meant to make anyone suffer. I didn’t want to get anyone involved. I didn’t tell Lauren the truth because I wanted to protect her and I thought I was doing that. But I was wrong.

I kneel in front of her, pulling her into my arms and pressing her head against my chest, my fingers stroking her hair.

“I’m sorry, Lauren.”

She pushes me away. “I don’t want your apologies. I want an explanation. Heck, I deserve one.”

I nod, taking a deep breath. “I am Chester Donahue. My family owns a large pharmaceutical company. Yes, we’re rich.”

“Rich?” Lauren scoffs.

“My parents have billions to their name,” I admit, placing my hands on my knees. “And yes, I’m going to inherit them someday. At least, I’m supposed to, but then a month ago while I was at the family cabin, a handful of armed men came for me.”

“Armed men?” Her eyebrows crease.

“They beat me, dragged me off into the woods in the middle of the night, and threw me off a cliff into a river.”

She looks at me with wide eyes. “What the fuck?”

“I thought I wasn’t going to survive.”

She touches the bruise over my rib. “Then this…”

“Was from one of those men kicking me,” I explain. “They thought I was dead.”

“Yet, you survived.”

I shrug. “By some miracle.”

“Why didn’t you tell the cops?”

“Because I didn’t know who I was up against. That’s why I ran. That’s why I came here and pretended to be someone else. I needed time to find out who tried to kill me. I needed to come up with a plan.”

Lauren falls silent, her gaze dropping to the floor.

I reach out to cup her cheek. “Lauren…”

Again, she swats my hand away. “Why didn’t you tell me, Chase?”

I lick my lips. “Because I was trying to protect you.”

She places her hand on her chest, her eyes glistening with fresh tears. “Protect me, when you were the one who was almost killed?”

“I…”

“Why? Because I look like some damsel in distress? Because I’m just a farm girl?”

“Lauren…”

She beats her fists against my chest. “You were suffering all this time. You were alone and you didn’t tell me. Why? Because I’m weak? Because I’m stupid? Because I’m some sheltered Daddy’s little girl and some virgin who—”

I grip her chin, pressing my mouth to hers to stop the words that I can’t bear to hear anymore.

“You’re not weak, Lauren.” I stroke her cheek. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

For a moment, she just stares at me with those eyes brimming with tears, her shoulders still trembling. Then she gets on her knees, places her hands around my waist, and kisses me.

I cup her face through her hair, letting my lips crash against hers over and over. She opens her mouth and I stick my tongue in, her tongue gliding across mine. My heart pounds, heat flowing through my veins and gathering in my crotch, where my cock stirs in my boxers.

I get on my unsteady feet and Lauren does the same, wrapping her arms around me as she wobbles. Still kissing, our tongues entangled, we walk, eventually making it to the bed.

She takes her arms off me to kick off her shoes and lie on the cot. I climb on top of her, swinging my legs on either side of her and leaning on one arm.

Lowering my face to hers, I open my mouth wider, sticking my tongue in deeper as I push her down into the pillow. My thumb rubs against her cheek, tracing circles on her skin. Then I pull away slowly, our lips making a smacking sound.

I gaze down at Lauren, her face clear in the moonlight. She looks up at me with those smoldering golden eyes, her hair a messy pile around her head, her lips parted as she chases after her breath.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask her. “Because there’s no turning back.”

She nods slowly. “I don’t want to turn back. I just want you.”

She reaches up to stroke my cheek. “You don’t have to run from me, too.”

“Good. Because I don’t think I can.”

I let my mouth crash down on hers anew, my fingers tangled in her hair as my tongue becomes entwined with hers. I kiss her fiercely, sucking every breath, swallowing every moan, the bed creaking beneath us.

My cock pounds and so does every nerve and vein in my body. Another breeze drifts in, sweeping across my back to cool the fresh layer of sweat there but the cold air is not enough to extinguish the heat inside of me.

I kiss her cheek, tasting the salty stain of her tears, and then the sweat on the side of her neck. As I kiss the other side, my fingers slip beneath the hem of her blouse, pushing the cotton up until they brush against the cotton of her bra.

I claim her mouth again as I cup her breasts, thumbs rubbing her nipples through the pads. Then I push it up, pausing just a moment to admire the perfect curves of her firm breasts and their stiff, rosy peaks before descending on one, taking it inside my mouth.

She trembles, her hands on my arms. I suck on the breast and then pull away slightly to tease her engorged nipple with the tip of my tongue, flicking it and licking around it.

She moans and I kiss her again, my palm against the curve of her other breast, my thumb pressing against her nipple before trapping it, pulling on it and twisting it gently.

I let my hands slide down to her hips, resting on the waistband of her jeans. My fingers pop out the button and pull down the zipper, brushing against wet cotton. I slip my hand beneath it and my boxers become wet in turn, my cock raging as I try to keep it from exploding.

She gasps as my thumb finds her clit. I swallow that gasp as I rub that nub, feeling it harden and bloom against my calloused skin. Her fingers pull on my hair.

I move my fingers lower in the cramped space, dipping into her wetness. The strong, sweet scent of it mingles with the air, riding on the breeze. My nostrils flare, my cock getting even harder as it begins to ache.

As my tongue delves into her mouth, my finger slips between her soft folds. Her back arches. Her hips rise to meet my hand.

I stroke her faster, muffling her moans as they get louder. Her nails scratch my scalp. Her body shakes.

Suddenly, she pulls away, letting out a loud gasp as she throws her head back, gripping my shoulders as she tightens and trembles around my finger, now soaking wet. I withdraw it slowly, watching her as she harnesses her breath, her eyes half-lidded and her forehead dotted with beads of sweat.

That drowsy, breathless expression paired with her breasts popping out from under her rolled-up bra and her yellow panties peeking from under her unzipped pants, makes my heart leap to my throat.

“I’m a mess again, aren’t I?” she asks, her voice soft and hoarse.

“You’re a perfect mess,” I tell her, brushing a thick coil of hair off her forehead.

She chuckles, lifting her arm. She lets her fingers dance across my palm then skip up my arm, stopping past my elbow. She circles my nipple, making me suck in a deep breath, then her hand slides down over my broken rib. I pull away, squeezing my eyes shut and letting out a gasp as pain shoots up my side.

Lauren’s eyes narrow, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“It still hurts?”

I nod.

She touches the tender, swollen area again, more gently this time.

“Is it broken?”

“I think so.”

She stares at the bruise, fingertips lightly grazing it. Then she lifts her head and presses her moist lips reverently against the injury.

I suck another deep breath, shivering.

Her hands on my waist, she kisses the bruise again and then finds the others, kissing them. With each light, scorching kiss, my body trembles, my cock quivering in its cotton prison. With each suck, heat spreads through me, leaking out of the tip of my cock. With each swipe of her tongue over the cuts on my skin, she turns pain into pleasure, her attention to my upper half making my lower burn with excitement and desire. My head spins and I close my eyes as my vision begins to blur.

“Fuck.”

Her mouth finds my neck, her lips taking the sensitive patch of skin prisoner. I let out a gasp before pulling her shirt off her and then her bra, tossing both to the far end of the bed.

Our lips clash again, our hands running across each other’s backs. As my fingers trace the soft curve of her spine, her fingertips graze over every cut and every bruise. We moan into each other’s mouths.

Her hands go back to the front, making me gasp again as she brushes against my crotch. A moment later, her fingers wrap around me, freeing my pulsating cock from my boxers. Then she starts stroking.

My body quakes. My hands climb back up, getting lost in the mess of black tendrils, which I try not to pull from their roots as her hand moves faster, the friction maddening.

My breathing grows shallower, my heart pounding faster. I’m almost at my limit and as much as I love the feel of her fingers around me, I want something else softer and tighter.

I reach for her wrist, pushing her hand away.

“Am I doing something wrong?” she asks with creased eyebrows. “I’m not drunk so I might be bad at it.”

I chuckle, pushing her back down. “If you were any better, I would have burst by now.”

I pull her pants and underwear off her, tossing them aside. Then I settle between her legs, pushing them up and gripping her thighs.

Lauren takes a deep breath, turning her head to one side and squeezing her eyes shut as she grips the sides of the bed.

I know she’s afraid and yet, here she is, surrendering herself to me. The thought of it causes an explosion of warmth in my chest.

“Lauren.” I stroke her cheek as I say her name softly.

She opens her eyes and turns her head to look right at me.

“What’s wrong?”

I say nothing. I’m at a loss for words, overwhelmed by an intense desire to claim her and to protect her, to give her all of me just as she is giving me all of her.

I plant a tender kiss on her forehead then I start moving my hips forward, filling her slowly.

I hear her gasp and when I look down, her eyes are closed again, her features twisted.

“Are you all right?” I ask her.

She nods. “Go on.”

I obey, pushing until I’ve filled her to the brim, reveling in the softness clamping down on me, the damp, velvety skin clinging to every inch of my cock.

Fuck.

I knew Lauren would feel amazing but this… this is sublime.

I almost want to stay there inside her, engulfed in that delicious warmth that fits me like a glove, but my cock throbs and I start jerking my hips.

The cot creaks and rocks but it’s I who come undone as I move in and out of her, my heart racing, my breath coming in gasps, some of which spill out as curses. Lauren clings to me, moving her hips with mine as she, too, starts breathing heavily in between moans.

The insects may be having their evening concert outside but we’re having our own inside this old barn.

I move faster, so much so, my broken rib begins to hurt. And it’s not just my broken rib. I can feel pain shooting from other parts of my body, some of my cuts feeling like they’re about to reopen.

To hell with it.

I pound into the body beneath me, my own trembling and dripping with sweat. I’m close now. I can feel my cock about to explode.

“Lauren,” I say her name through gritted teeth, my jaw clenched as I try to hold myself back until the last possible second.

All my efforts melt away, though, when Lauren pulls my face close for a kiss.

I unravel in her arms, gasps and grunts escaping my lips into hers. My body grows taut as I spill myself inside her and then jerks uncontrollably as my cock quivers.

Just as my tremors are about to subside, Lauren’s begins. She wraps her legs around me, moving her hips rapidly as her nails dig into the back of my shoulders.

“Chase!”

She squeezes me of whatever drops are left in me as her hips come to a halt, her eyes falling shut as she throws her head back.

Then her arms and legs fall at her sides, her chest heaving as she gulps for air.

I pull out and lie down beside her, pulling her into my arms so that she doesn’t fall off the narrow cut. She turns around to face me, snuggling into the crook of my arm. We’re both sticky, sweaty, but I don’t care.

Once again, all falls silent inside the barn, the concert of the leaves and the insects persisting outside.

“Are you all right?” I ask her as I find the strength to speak first, rubbing her arm.

“Yup,” she mumbles then adds, “Sorry.”

“What for?” I ask as I stroke her hair, trying to untangle some of the strands with my fingers.

“I called you Chase. I’m used to it, I guess.” She lifts her head, her gaze piercing mine. “Can I still call you Chase?”

I nod, touching her cheek. “I don’t mind. I never liked Chester anyway.”

She smiles and puts her head back down, letting out a deep breath.

Another breeze blows across us.

As I hear Lauren’s breathing become softer, more even, I close my eyes. This time, nothing stops me from falling asleep.