Caught in a Chase

53 - Need Me

The next couple days passed much the same. Each day Chelsea started to talk and act more like herself. But she still hadn't spoken about that night.

This morning I found her sitting in her favourite spot, looking out the window at the back yard. She held a cup of coffee in her hands. I sat down across from her with my own mug.

"The bird feeder needs refilling," she said without turning from the window.

"I forgot it was there," I admitted. "I'll get someone to do it."

She nodded.

"I uh, got some notebooks for you," I said. "Figured you might want 'em to write. They're in the kitchen. Help yourself."

"Thank you," Chelsea turned to look at me. "I haven't been doing much of that lately."

"When things are fucked up, that's when you need to the most."

She smiled sadly. "Well it doesn't get more fucked up than this."

"Yeah," I said. "Look, I'm sorry – "

Chelsea shook her head. "Don't, please."

I studied her face, looking for any sign I should continue. Finally, I just nodded and we sat in silence for several minutes.

"It's like years of shit were packed into a few months. So I figure the next couple years should be a blissful fairy tale for me, right?" she said finally.

"Don't think it works like that," I smiled. "But I hope you get the fairy tale."

"You've been watching too much Disney," Chelsea teased. "You're going soft."

"Nah baby, I'm always hard when it counts."

"That's awful cocky of you," she said.

"You gotta boner to pick with me?"

"Nope, it's just tough to swallow sometimes."

"This is messing with my head."

"Quit dicking around," she said.

"God I missed this," I laughed. "And I need to write some of that down before I forget."

I stood to go find my notebook, inspired by our banter. Then hesitated. 

For a moment, things were like they used to be. But now Chelsea seemed sad, staring out the window again. Probably it wasn't the best time for penis jokes.

"We gonna watch something besides Disney then today?"

"Sure. Meet you on the couch later," she said.

That afternoon we sat on the couch arguing about what to watch. With Disney off the table, we were back to our usual dilemma. I liked superhero and biographical movies while she liked comedies and thrillers.

"I'm not watching that!" I scoffed.

"Why? Because it doesn't have men in capes and tights?" she asked.

"For the last time, superheroes are awesome."

"Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that," she muttered.

I was so happy her smart mouth was back, I'd watch absolutely anything she chose. But tradition dictated I not give in easily.

"What do I get if I watch your crap?" I asked, looking over at her.

I'd said the same thing a hundred times while we were together. We stared at each other. The flush on her cheeks showed she was also thinking of our past negotiations and what they lead to. For a moment, time seemed to slow and the air around us electrified.

Chelsea looked away. "What do you wanna watch?"

"It's fine," I said, also turning back to the TV.

She put the movie on and we stared ahead without speaking. After awhile, Chelsea stood.

"I need to walk for a bit," she said and wandered away. Nodding, I shut off the movie and I grabbed my notebook and pen.

An hour or so later my phone rang and the caller ID said Detroit Police department. The caller identified himself as one of the detectives working the shooting and asked to speak to Chelsea tomorrow morning.

"I'm coming too," I said. "She's been through enough. I'm not letting her do this alone."

The detective assured me that was fine. He said Chelsea's bag and wallet had been recovered. They'd be returned tomorrow during the interview.

I hung up and scribbled the appointment time in my notebook. Getting up, I went looking for Chelsea.

I found her standing in the bedroom, staring at the bed. I watched her for a moment before clearing my throat. Slowly she turned to face me.

"The detective called. He's asked to see you tomorrow. Okay?"

Chelsea hesitated.

"It's alright. I'll drive you and stay with you the whole time. If you want."

Chelsea nodded. I turned to leave the room.

"Marshall?" she said softly.

I stopped and turned back. Chelsea stepped forward and wrapped her arms around my waist. I paused a moment before hugging her back.

"Thank you," she whispered against my neck.

I swallowed hard and nodded. "Whatever you need, I'm here for you."

"You mean that?" she asked.

"Of course," I said as I continued to hold her, resisting the urge to crush her against me. Then I felt her lips on my neck, light little kisses.

"Chelsea... what are you doing?" I asked, not moving.

She didn't answer, instead sucking gently. I closed my eyes, struggling to keep it together. Summoning all my strength, I moved away from her.

She looked up at me, her eyes glistening. "Please."

"Please what?" I asked. "What's going on?"

"I ... I ... need to feel something ... other than sadness," she whispered, her lips trembling.

I didn't answer, didn't move, trying to figure out what to do. As badly as I wanted her, I didn't want to take advantage of the situation.

Chelsea stepped forward and reached for my belt. She'd unbuckled it when I grabbed her hands, stopping her. She looked up at me, eyes pleading.

Fuck. I was only human. If she needed this, needed me ...

"Please," she said again.

As I walked to the bedroom door, I heard her sob. No doubt she thought I was leaving. After shutting the door, I turned and pulled off my shirt. Stalking back, I grabbed and kissed her hard.

Her hands ran lightly over my back as her tongue moved into my mouth. I grabbed her ass, pushing her against my dick.

"Tell me," I ordered. "Tell me what you want."

"I – I ..."

"Do you want me to love you? Or fuck you?" I asked, running my tongue over my lips as I waited for her answer.

"Fuck me," she whispered.

I pulled her shirt and bra off, needing to feel her skin against mine and kissed her.

After months of longing, I was able to put my hands and mouth on her again. Every touch, every feeling was both familiar and better than I remembered.

Running my hands over her breasts, my mouth kissed her neck moving downward. Pinching one nipple, I sucked and nipped the other. Chelsea moaned softly.

I needed more of her. Grabbing her pants, I yanked them off. Stepping back, I slid my jeans and boxers down. My dick sprang to attention.

Chelsea turned her back to me. I moved forward and ground against her ass, as I kissed her neck.

But I wanted her lips and tried to turn Chelsea to face me. She resisted, pushing her ass back against me. Gently I bit her shoulder in disapproval.

"Come here baby," I said, trying again to turn Chelsea. She stiffened and shook her head.

My heart broke as I realized while she might need this, she wouldn't look at me. All was not forgiven.

At least I could show her how I felt. I ran my hands down her back and over her ass.

"Lie down on your side," I said.

Chelsea climbed onto the bed and lay facing away from me. I moved behind her, pulling her back tight against my front, spooning her. Brushing her hair back, I sucked on her neck while my hand moved down her stomach to her pussy.

I slipped my fingers inside her lips, rubbing her clit and she moaned, urging me deeper. Her ass ground against my dick as I started to thrust two fingers into her. I watched as she rode my hand, my fingers moving faster and deeper. Without warning, she gasped and came.

Pulling my fingers out, I nudged her top leg up. She lifted it and I slid a hand under her thigh and held her leg up, opening her pussy to me from behind. I pushed the tip of my dick to her entrance.

"This what you want?" I asked, making sure she hadn't changed her mind.

Chelsea nodded.

"Tell me you want me," I demanded.

"Please," she whispered.

"Tell me," I said again.

"I ... I need you. Please."

Close enough. I pushed inside her. Fuck she felt amazing! Like she was made just for me. I knew I wasn't going to last long as I slammed into her repeatedly.

"This dick is yours baby," I panted in her ear. "Only yours."

She gripped the sheets for leverage and pushed her ass back, meeting my thrusts. I let go of her leg and pinched her clit at the same time I bit down on her shoulder. She cried out as her pussy walls clamped down around me and I surrendered to my own orgasm.

My arm curled around her waist, holding her against me as we lay catching our breath. My softening dick still inside her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Don't ever have to thank me for that," I said, nuzzling her neck. "My pleasure."

She stiffened and moved to get up, but I tightened my arm around her, holding her in place.

"Let me up,"

"Not yet," I said.

Chelsea settled back against me and we lay in silence.

"What happened that night?" I asked.

Her body tensed, then she struggled to get up again. My arm held her tight against me.

"Let me go!"

"No."

"This isn't funny!"

"No, it's not," I agreed. "You have to tell the cops tomorrow. I wanna hear it first."

With a sob, Chelsea stopped struggling. I placed a soft kiss on her shoulder.

"Tell me."

The silence dragged on and I finally conceded she wasn't going to speak.

"If you don't want to talk, then at least write it," I sighed. "But you have to let it out baby. Otherwise you'll get caught in your own head, reliving it over and over."

She nodded and I reluctantly removed my arm. Chelsea rose and hurried to the bathroom.

Later that night I was sprawled on the couch debating another Netflix episode or bed, when Chelsea appeared in the doorway.

"Hey," I said sitting up.

"I wrote it," she said, staring out the window.

"Good," I nodded. "Can ... I read it?"

She nodded.

"Where ..." I asked, seeing she held no notebook.

Chelsea turned and looked me directly in the eyes. After a long moment, she headed back upstairs.

"So busted," I muttered, reaching for my phone.