She Laughs in Pink (Sheridan Hall #1) (10 page)

None of it makes any sense, but I’m not going to argue. Gram seems to have her mind set, and once that happens there’s no convincing her otherwise. “Fine, Gram. Don’t expect me to be hanging around though. Just because you want to forgive his asshole behavior—”

Gram hits me again with the towel. “Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. You, of all people, can’t find it in your heart to forgive asshole behavior?”

Touché.
I do have a history of asshole behavior, but the thought of Rob mooching off Gram’s hospitality makes me want to vomit. We finish cleaning in silence. As we put away the last dish, Gram breaks the tension by asking me for a hug. Of course, I oblige. I love her more than I love anyone.

I’m still hugging her when Juliet and Rob return. Juliet’s face is flushed and she smiles when she sees me hugging my grandmother. I want to pick her up, steal her away from Rob, and carry her back to the train station. I wonder if she’ll let me kiss her again after our shitty conversation on the way over. When she’d asked me if she should give her heart to someone like me, I’d panicked and tried to take the cool guy route. Looking at her now, I know I should have begged her for it.

“The gallery is beautiful, Gram.” I love that Juliet calls my grandmother “Gram” like I do. “Marcus is downstairs setting up. He said you’re expecting people tonight?”

“On Friday nights we do the local artist display. We’re expecting a big crowd. Rob’s going to help out, too.” Gram nods toward Rob, and I can’t help but smirk. He’s got to have an ulterior motive.

“This is my first show at the gallery in about twenty years. I didn’t realize how much I missed it all, missed New York, until I came back.”

All I know about Rob’s absence is that when my parents died, he ran away from the city, leaving my grandmother alone to deal with the gallery and me. The only reason she didn’t sell our half was because my parents wanted me to have it. Gram calls Marcus, the day-to-day manager, her
treasure
, since I’ve been useless for the gallery and Rob disappeared. As I look from Gram to Rob, their new friendship throws me off balance.

I look at Juliet instead. She squints at me like she can read my confused thoughts. “Chase told me about his parents’ dream for the gallery. It’s a beautiful idea. I’m glad their vision has continued.” I beam when Gram thanks her, ridiculously proud she’s mine…for the night at least. I can’t stop myself from biting my bottom lip and letting my gaze roam over her body. When I look at her face again, I see she’s looking at me the same way.

“Why don’t you two come check it out? Rob and I have to get down there to set up, but why don’t you join us in a little bit?” I stare at Juliet and she meets my gaze. “In a little bit” holds so much promise, and when Juliet sexy smirks at me I know we have the same thing on our minds.

The minutes feel like hours as we putter around the apartment waiting for Gram and Rob to leave. When they finally say their goodbyes and the door slams behind them, we don’t hesitate.

I walk toward Juliet purposefully and slam my lips onto hers, lifting her off the ground. Her beautiful long legs wrap around me as she kisses me, her hands in my hair. I hear her whisper my name as I grab her bare thighs, carry her down the hallway to my old room, and fall onto the bed over her. The room is so small that as I lay on top of Juliet, I kick the door shut with my foot. “Chase?”

“Hmm.” I stretch next to Juliet so my hands are free to roam. I touch her neck, her shoulders, her waist. I grab her hips and the ass I saw naked a few hours earlier. I pull her thigh so that her leg is draped over mine. My hands crave her, and I want every inch. I touch the top of her skirt and run my fingers along her hips. As I trace her belly button she giggles under my mouth and swirls of pink fill the room. I’m getting used to seeing the color around her.

“Ticklish?” She tries not to laugh but I know I’ve found her weakness. I slide down her body and kiss her bare belly. Her skin is hot, like fire under my lips. She tenses, her abs tightening under my kiss.

“Oh no, Chase. You have to stop.” I do because she asked me to. I look up into her big brown eyes. “We’re not in the train station.”

I think about her comment and remember my promise—what happens at the train station remains our secret. I wiggle up her body and lay next to her. She looks like an angel stretched out facing me, her hair loose over my pillow, eyes wide, waiting for me to come up with something to make this all right.

I run my hand through my hair. “Technically, it’s sort of like the train station because it’s not New Jersey. I think the rule is, whatever happens at the train station,
or in New York
…” I emphasize, “…stays in the train station—”

“—or New York,” she finishes. Juliet nods at my lame justification. “That’s the best rule ever. I only have one condition.”

I brace myself.
Please don’t mention Ben
.

“Don’t tickle me.”

I exhale and smile. “Don’t tickle you? That’s it?”

“I hate being tickled. It’s a deal breaker.” She points at me, trying to look serious.

I bite her finger, and she pulls it away. “So you love surprises but hate being tickled. I’m going to start a list.” I touch her stomach again and trace the waistband of her skirt. “So I can do anything I want to you, so long as it’s not tickling?”

“Um, I don’t think that’s what I said.” Her voice quivers in a way I haven’t heard before.

I have to tease her. My hand slides upward over her ribcage and I move my fingers to massage the skin under her breasts. “How about this? Do you like this?” I know she likes it because she squirms and sighs and does the panting thing she does when she’s turned on.

“Yes?” I ask. I move my hand lower, back to her belly button and spread it over her flat stomach. I nip at her neck while my fingertips tease under the top of her skirt. The feel of her skin, so hot under my hand, makes me lightheaded, and her little moans and sighs motivate me to continue. “Let me know if you want me to stop.” I pray she’ll let me keep touching her.

Juliet nods. Her chest rises and falls under mine with her deep breaths as I kiss her mouth slowly. Her hands wander under my shirt and it seems like forever since I’ve been touched. I hear myself groan as she explores my chest down my sides, around to my back. Her nails scratch me as her fingers trail lower under my jeans and boxers. I kiss her harder, deeper, my tongue reaching inside of her mouth. I need to be in her any way possible.

I move my hand up her torso and brush the lace of her bra. “Is this okay?” I ask into her lips. I can barely get the words out.

Juliet doesn’t answer. In a split second, she flips me onto my back and straddles me like she did the night before on the train. She sexy smirks, and I get a glimpse of her pink underwear as she settles on my body. Her skirt rides up her hips. She pulls her shirt over her head, and I’m in a goddamn dream. She’s so fucking beautiful.

“Christ, Juliet.” I admire her shoulders, the pink bra that matches her panties, the way her hair falls over her back. Besides the skirt riding up her hips, she’s in her underwear on top of me. I put my hands around her waist and my fingers almost touch at her back. “Do you know…” My words come out like a breath, and I can’t finish. I shut my eyes to calm myself then open them and try again. “Do you know how amazing you are?”

She smiles. Our faces are inches apart, her hair a curtain around us, her eyes on mine. “It’s you.” Her voice wavers. “You make me feel like I’m amazing.”

It takes us about three seconds to go from gentle to crazy. When she stretches out, her body is flush over mine, and I feel her from head to toe. Touching her is sensory overload, and I can’t wait to paint her now that I’m touching her angles and curves. I pinch the strap of her pink bra, weaving my fingers underneath it. I’d love to pull it down over her shoulder, but I don’t know how far to go with her. I just know I want to be closer. I rub the silky strap between my fingers as I kiss her.

I want more of her, as much as I can get. I roll her onto her back and trail my lips over her chin, down her neck, to her chest. Her bra is snug against her breasts. “Can I touch you?” I beg with a shaky voice.

“Please.” I think she’s begging me, too.

Forcing myself to go slow, I move my fingers down her bra strap over the thin material. My thumbs find her nipples through the lace and she groans and presses her body into my hand. “Chase,” she breathes. I love how she says my name when I touch her.

I maneuver my hips between her thighs as I kiss my way over her cleavage. She moans my name when I trail my hands down her body. From now on, I’m going to live for the sound of my name coming from her lips in a moan. I’m ruined. I want to take everything I can from her, give her everything I have to give. I put my mouth over the lace and I’m aching, physically aching, to push the material aside.

Control
. I repeat the word in my head. I try the Yankee technique.
Jeter, Williams…
Damn if I could remember the 2001 Yankees line up as my lips pinch Juliet’s nipple through the lace of her bra. “Chase,” she breathes. There it is again, the moan.

It’s too much. I move up to her lips as her hands reach for the bottom of my shirt and I wiggle to let her pull it over my head. When I press my bare chest against her, I’m grasping the edge of sanity. With her skirt bunched over her waist and my hips between her thighs, my dick presses against her legs. My entire body tenses. Every muscle is hard and aching and I instinctually move my hips further into hers. I groan.

Juliet moves underneath me and I think I hear her say, “Oh my God.” Every movement of her body against mine, every moan and sigh from her lips, makes me crazy. I try to take a time out and put the weight of my body on hers and nuzzle her neck, but it’s too late for either of us. We’re both out of control, and Juliet won’t stay still. She touches every inch of me she can reach, running her hands over my body, grabbing my hair. She pulls me from her lips. “Please,” she whispers. “Keep doing that.”

I know what she wants. I lift my upper body and push my hips against hers again, rubbing my erection against her pink lace underwear. I can barely look at her. She’s so tanned and warm and beautiful, she looks like a fucking centerfold. I’m dying to take off my jeans and beg her to let me have her completely, but I don’t because I’m a goner—I’m all about her and what she wants and she’s totally in charge of me. I briefly wonder if this is what impulse control is about and decide I don’t care. Whatever it is, I’m all good.

I move my hips again and Juliet’s legs wrap tighter around my bare waist. She arches her back as she rubs against me, exposing her neck. Her tits rise up to my face and I kiss her chest where it pushes out from under the lace bra. “D-do you like this, gorgeous?” I stutter. They way she moans and grabs my ass answers my question. Her responsiveness only makes me want to please her more, so I kiss her through her bra and push my hips into her harder.

Juliet presses my head into her chest and I bite and suck through the lace while I’m teasing her between the legs. I love that she’s so turned on and that she trusts me with her body. I want nothing more in that moment than to help her come, but she’s in another world.

I lift off her. “Open your eyes.” I hear my demanding tone. I need to see her. I want to know she’s here with me.

She opens her eyes.

“Hi,” I say.

When she smiles and touches my face, I know she’s with me, here, in New York, not in Pennsylvania or Sheridan Hall.

“You make me feel so good,” she says, groping me, her hands everywhere, her head moving off the bed to meet my lips.

“Can I touch you everywhere?” I ask. I’m more than willing to give her whatever she wants.

“God, yes.”

I kiss her and move my hand over her bunched up skirt, to the inside of her thigh. She’s so smooth and warm. Her skin’s soft but her thigh is hard under my hand. She lifts her hips to rub into me again and I grab her ass under her panties. When she relaxes again, I move my hand between her legs.

Holy shit.
The pink lace is hot and wet under my touch. I move my hand underneath the material. She’s bare and soft, and when I add pressure with my fingers, she moves with me. I lose my mind. “Fuck, Juliet.” I don’t even know what I’m saying, so I cover her mouth with mine. I feel everything as I rub little circles with my fingers and she moans into my mouth.

“Chase.” Her face flushes as her nails scrape my back. “I never…You’re so…Your skin…Your body…Hard…You’re so hard.” She tries to move her hand down the front of my pants, but I stop her. I want her to touch me as much as I want to touch her, but I’m too far gone. We can’t have sex, not tonight, so I use every ounce of energy I can muster to stop myself from coming in my boxers. “I’ve never felt anything like this,” I hear her murmur. She’s lost somewhere with me. I bury my face in her neck again.

Groceries. I’ll think about groceries
. How much I hate buying produce at the farmer’s market with my grandmother. That works, until I imagine strawberries and whipped cream.
Dammit. The dentist. Mouths
…that won’t work. I couldn’t name a Yankee now if my life depended on it.

Back from my short and useless trip to the grocery store, the dentist, and Yankee stadium, Juliet’s mouth finds mine and she begs, “Inside, please.” She puts her hand between her legs over mine, pushing my fingers deeper into her.
Shit.