I pressed my hungry body against him and felt the heat of his skin beneath his clothes. He was already hard, his erection brushing my abdomen, and for the first time in my life I didn’t feel the need to run away. I wanted to touch him. Feel him. Expose him to my gaze.
Chase pried his lips off mine, leaving me breathless and slightly disoriented as he put some distance between us. “I’m going to marry you, Laurie, but under one condition,” he whispered, his flushed face mirroring the way I felt. “I want to take you out on a date. A real date.”
Chapter 16
Chase had been adamant that if we were to marry, we at least make it look real. Given that I didn’t exactly have an array of other choices, I agreed, and we arranged a first date when Chase expressed his first condition. He insisted that I dressed accordingly, or, in his words, “Wear something nice.”
I had guessed he meant something elegant, maybe made from a flowing fabric. Naturally, a chiffon dress was my first choice as I ascended the stairs of our apartment building.
Chase was leaning against his expensive car, his eyes sweeping over my legs appreciatively as his lips curled into a wicked smile.
“Hi,” I said shyly, my gaze appraising his black slacks and light blue shirt that seemed to match the color of his eyes. He was so beautiful I almost choked on my breath, my mind unable to grasp the fact that in less than half an hour, I’d be having dinner with the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I felt like a fan who was about to meet her Hollywood crush for the first time. He wasn’t just making me nervous; his presence seemed to highlight and magnify my inexperience to glaring proportions.
“You look stunning,” Chase said, sweeping me into his arms to kiss my cheek.
My throat constricted, and my brain switched off. As his lips touched my skin, I wanted to say something clever—something a mature woman with plenty of experience would say—only, the words remained glued to the back of my throat.
Chase pried his arms off me, and we were in the car. A strong wind rustled through the open windows and blew a few strands of my hair into my face. I was hurrying to brush them aside when I realized Chase had started the engine and now was staring at my naked legs.
“What?” I turned to regard him and narrowed my eyes as I took in the amused smile on his lips. “Don’t you like what I’m wearing?”
“Of course I do.” He shook his head and met my gaze—and something sparkled in his eyes. “Anything shorter, and I would have insisted we head up to your place and order in.”
My heart thumped. “Why?”
He let out a small laugh. “You know why, Laurie. I doubt I would have been able to kept my hands off you, and making out in a restaurant isn’t something you’d be comfortable with.”
He wanted to make out.
I bit my lip hard to suppress a smile, but the heat scorching my face probably betrayed my true feelings. Ever since we had kissed, a rose hue and a smile had remained etched on my face. He was pure eye candy, flirty and easy to converse with. Even though a relationship would never happen, at least I could enjoy the moment.
“I have to say you’re really….” I struggled for words.
“Awesome?”
“Persistent, stubborn. Maybe even bordering on insufferable.” I smiled at him. “Tell me, do you ever give up when a woman says no?”
“I don’t, Laurie.” He put the car in gear. “I would never give up because I always get what I want. Then again, I never had to chase. You’re the first one to cause me both blue balls and wet dreams.”
“I don’t believe you,” I whispered, shocked at his boldness.
“Why would I lie to you?” He killed the engine, and then he turned to me, his eyes full of mischief and something else. My breath caught in my throat as he leaned forward, and I was bracing myself for his kiss when his fingers brushed my leg gingerly, lingering for a second or two, before he picked up something from the floor. “You lost your journal.”
I stared at the light pink journal, confused, the meaning of his words not really hitting home. It wasn’t the only thing I had lost. Under his touch, I felt like I was losing every inch of my self-control…or ability to think.
“Oh.” I had been so busy staring at Chase, I hadn’t realized my bag had opened and the contents had spilled onto the seat and floor. As he handed me the light pink journal, my fingers brushed his, and an electric spark traveled down my arm.
“Thanks,” I muttered, my voice alien in my ears.
“You’re welcome.” His eyes rested on me for an awkward moment.
“Shouldn’t we get going?” I said when his strange gaze became too uncomfortable.