Body (6 page)

Chase kisses his way down my neck and I’m lost in the sensation. His natural woodsy and citrus scent is stronger as his skin shimmers with sweat. It’s intoxicating, pulling me further into the abyss that is Chase. I tremble with need, my breath ragged as I grip and claw, trying to pull him deeper against me. Merge as one.

His lips brush my ear, sending chills down my spine. I hear his intake of breath as he drags his warm tongue down the column of my neck, tasting, devouring. He moans and bites down hard on the ball of my shoulder. Excitement builds between my thighs, moisture pooling and soaking my panties. No man has taken control of me and my body in this way before. I want to bottle it whole, spray it on every surface in my bedroom so I can revisit it…often. It’s unusual, frightening and freeing at the same time. I want to beg for more, not run in fear. Chase brings out a side of me I don’t recognize, but am desperate to release.

Chase nips at my ear. I can feel every breath as his words caress the skin of my neck. “You’re driving me mad.” He bites my earlobe and I gasp. Then he pecks my lips with a kiss. “I won’t be able to make it through dinner…” Kiss again. “…without thinking about you… “ Kiss. “…against this door, wearing those fucking thigh highs…” Kiss. “…and how I’m going to remove them with my teeth.” His hips rhythmically circle and press harder into me with every staccato kiss.

“God, Chase,” I moan.

His tongue dips into my mouth as he presses against me, exactly where I need it most. A cry tears from my throat. I bite my lip, almost drawing blood. He soothes the hurt with his tongue. I reach down and squeeze his tight ass, bringing him closer. It’s too much. I have to have him.

“Please,” I beg shamelessly and punctuate my need by digging my stiletto into the tender meat of his thigh.

He winces, hissing through his teeth. “God, I can’t wait to get you into my bed. He punctuates his words by sealing his mouth over the skin of my neck. I’m sure he’ll leave marks. I almost hope he does. That thought is a first for me. I’ve had a man leave too many marks. Never have I wanted them to be there.

Chase picks up the pace of grinding me into sexual oblivion. His cock perfectly presses against my clit. All thoughts of the past are gone. I’m plowed right back into a haze of need. The pleasure almost reaches the apex, a few more strokes and I’ll fly...

A brisk knock on the door behind me startles us both. We both jump away from one another and scramble to readjust our clothes like two teenagers caught by the adults.

“Just a moment!” Chase says to the closed door.

My heart races as I smooth my skirt with shaky hands. Our breathing comes in tight bursts. I’m trembling, and the knowledge of what was about to take place is like an ice pick to my chest. The Chairman of the Board was dry humping me against a door.
Shit!

Chase’s eyes scan me, ensuring my clothes are intact while smoothing his suit coat and tie. He grips both the lapels of his jacket, shaking it in place before buttoning the jacket over a very impressive erection. I cringe as he covers his need for me. He catches me sizing up his package and shoots me an impish grin, then finger combs his hair into that sex tussled look, which this time is actually from a sex act. Chase reaches out and glides his fingertips down the side of my face. He clasps my chin, then tips it up. He pets the cheek bone, then pulls me into a simple, reaffirming kiss.

“Tonight. I will have you,” he promises, then opens the door. His cell phone rings, bringing me out of the sex induced coma. With a flick of the wrist, his phone is to his ear as he barks into it, exiting. He takes one look back and shoots me a saucy wink that I can feel from the tips of my toes to the ends of my hair.

I wait a respectable amount of time until I can’t hear any voices outside. If I was honest, I’m really waiting to make sure I can walk without having to hold myself up using the wall like a drunken college student on frat night. I’d be mortified if anyone caught me coming out of a dark room with Chase. I could only imagine what they’d think. Probably assume I’m sleeping my way to the top or something equaling demoralizing.

Venturing out, I see that Jack is waiting for me. He has my laptop and purse. He hands me my cell phone. “Mr. Davis asked me to wait for you to ensure you got your things. He also said to give you his personal cell phone number and asked that you text him that you still plan to meet him. I’ve added it to your contacts. Do not share it with anyone,” he warns.

“Thanks,” I say to his retreating form. The man is so on edge. I wonder who pissed in his Cheerios today.

How odd. Chase had his driver, bodyguard, whatever he is, wait for me and ensure that I text him about a meeting that’s less than three hours away. Looks like Mr. Chairman of the Board has a few insecurities of his own. The thought makes me feel a little better, but not by much.

I open my contacts and find him. Of course the mob boss entered Chase’s information in perfect text, appropriate capitalization on the C and D. He added his cell, business, and home numbers. He also provided his email. I guess that leaves no possible reason for me not to reach him in one format or another.

I pull together a quick text.

To: Chase Davis

From: Gillian Callahan

Your linebacker expressed your wishes. I’ll meet you.

Immediately I receive a reply.

To: Gillian Callahan

From: Chase Davis                                                

I’ll be waiting.

The thought of what will likely take place tonight makes my stomach feel tight and fluttery. Anxiety swirls and festers, pricking my skin as if I was getting acupuncture. I want this man. Really want him.

In my bed. In my body. In every way possible.

I’m torn. A man has never made me feel this high or want to fall so hard. Chase brings out desire in me so fierce I can barely avoid its burn. After the conference room escapade, I know we’ll set the sheets ablaze.
I want you in my bed,
he’d said. That one sentence has me twitching with longing and impatience. His need for me makes me want to weep in frustration. Regardless of how bad it will look if people find out, I’ve got to have him.

Lord help me, I’m about to make one beautiful mistake.

Chapter 4

Three hours have passed since the dry hump against a wall with the sexiest man alive. Three whole hours to find every excuse possible to prove that Chase Davis is a bad idea, probably fatal to my career.

Yes, he’s unbelievably gorgeous, with kisses that make me weak in the knees. He can bring me from zero to sixty with an intense gaze across a crowded room. How many men have the capability of doing that to a woman?

Attraction aside, I won’t ruin my chances for success with the Foundation. Years ago, Safe Haven scraped me off the floor, brought me back from the dead and gave me life. After Justin, I cannot afford to let my life get off track.

Justin.
Deep utter revulsion at the thought of that name makes me queasy. Taking a few deep breaths I count to ten. Slowly, the swill of disgusting thoughts of Justin leaves, readying me to let down a man whose body was crafted by angels. Chase is definitely a catch. Doesn’t matter. This girl is throwing this particular fish back into the sea of distracting beautiful men.

Chase could have any woman he wants. With that face and wallet, he could point and click the perfect woman and she’d appear. I’m nobody special. Besides, from what I found online, he’s had several perfect pieces of arm candy in the past year alone. Lengthy, model thin beauties, perfect trophy material for a man like Chase. My Google Kungfu is dead on. Besides, I’m not even his type. He likes perfectly tan, statuesque blondes, not pale curvy redheads.

With my decision made, I walk briskly towards the glass double doors leading outside the hotel. The wind whips my hair and I clutch my blazer tightly to ward off the chill. Like a shiny black ghost, a sleek, pitch black stretch limousine parks in front of me. Wow. Hadn’t expected that. I’ve never ridden in a limo before. The little girl in me wants to squeal with delight.

“Miss Callahan, Mr. Davis is expecting you.” Jack holds the car door open. I slide along the smooth leather seat. It’s cool against the skin of my palm. The interior is lush. Cherry wood panels span one side, hosting an array of glass tumblers and amber colored liquids in crystal decanters. Jack drops his huge form into the driver’s seat. “Feel free to have a drink.”

“No, thank you.” I lean back into the supple leather, resting my eyes as he turns out onto the busy street.

Downtown Chicago is alight with the sounds of the city. People mill along the concrete streets, taking advantage of the hodgepodge of stores mixed in with restaurants. We pass an elevated train, sitting high above the ground a couple stories up. I’ve heard of the “L”, but never seen it in person. The skyscrapers spanning the city jut up into the sky in varying shapes and sizes, reminding me of stacked Legos. San Francisco seems relatively sleepy compared to this eclectic mix of modern and old-school. Most of the people who live in San Francisco are commuters who work in a city they can’t afford to live in. By six, it is a ghost town, everyone having gone back to their Bay Area or Valley residences. Here, the city is alive and thrumming, matching my rapid pulse as we near our destination.

“Where are we going?” I ask my quiet companion.

“Mr. Davis has requested your presence at the Sky Lounge, one of his bars. We will be there in less than five minutes.” His driver, someone Chase claims to be a friend, is not the friendliest guy. I guess that’s part of his job. He’s supposed to be as scary as hell so that no one messes with his charge.

Am I supposed to sit quietly and let him drive Miss Daisy? Or is he supposed to keep me company? My natural inclination is to talk, and I’d like to find out more about his boss. Hell,
my
boss.

“How long have you worked for Mr. Davis?”

“Five years, but I’ve known him his entire life.” He frowns. I don’t think he meant to share that last bit.

“Oh, really?” I’m confident now that I’ll get a sneak peek into the enigmatic man.

“We’re here,” he expertly evades my question without much effort. I force myself not to pout.

Jack gets out of the car and comes to open my door. To my surprise, he dips a hand towards the entrance. “Right this way, Miss Callahan.”

He leads me to a bank of elevators and presses the button. A grim line sets his mouth, insinuating that he’s not interested in chit chat. I roll my eyes and take a breath.

“You know, I can take it from here. If you just tell me what floor, I can find my way.”

“Mr. Davis requested I bring you directly to him.”

“Oh, okay.”
Control freak.

On the way to floor sixty, my palms sweat and I wipe them against my skirt. Maybe I should have changed into something else? No. This is not a date. Changing into something more feminine and pretty would give the impression I want more.
Letting him hump you against a wall, his tongue down your throat, gave that impression already.
I sigh, letting those thoughts leave me before they twist and turn into something more.

I’ll sit with the man, have a drink, and explain that this is the last time we’re going to see each other outside of work. That shouldn’t be too hard. Before today’s board meeting, I’d never so much as cast a glance at him, and I’ve worked for the Foundation for over two years. Decision made, I remind myself that this is the way it has to be. A relationship with him would be career suicide. I’ve worked too hard to lose everything now.

We reach our destination and I swipe a hand through my hair to make sure no loose strands are out of place from the wind earlier. I didn’t change clothes, but I did pull my hair down and curled it into soft waves around my face. My appearance reflects back at me in the mirrored elevator doors. The bright red pop of color across my full lips adds drama to the look. My pale skin, red hair, and the emerald of my eyes and blouse make the ruby lipstick a perfect contrast. I feel brazen, bold. It gives me the courage needed to let down the world’s most eligible bachelor. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and remind myself that we are from two very different worlds that, if pressed together, would collide and implode. If he really knew me and the details of my past, he wouldn’t want me anyway. There’s also the giant elephant sized issue of him being my boss.

Jack walks me through a crowd of people talking and laughing at intimate tables. The centerpiece consists of three wine glasses at altering heights filled with a blue liquid. There’s a lit, delicate flower shaped tea light floating on the surface of each. Such a simple but unique concept. It would be smashing at a donor fundraising dinner. I could even use food coloring to change the color of the water. I store the idea in the back of my mind for future reference and look around the lounge. It occupies the entire floor of the building. Glass walls enclose the space from floor to ceiling, providing a 360 degree view of the Chicago skyline. The view of the city from this height is breathtaking and dizzying. I sway and Jack plants a firm hand on my elbow.

“It’s a rotating floor. It’s designed to allow the patrons to see the entire 360 view.”

“Beautiful.” I pay closer attention and feel the slight movement. He keeps his hold of my arm as he leads me to the bar, dead center of the room. Blue lights glow behind frosted glass. The bar’s surface is black and shiny like a grand piano. The entire place is very chic. I can see why Mr. Megabucks would own something so opulent. Another reminder why I, who lives in a shabby apartment with a roommate, could not possibly fit into his world.

Chase’s presence is like a current that tingles down my spine, tickling the hair at the nape of my neck before I even see him. Jack leads me around a divider. Chase swivels on a barstool as if he can feel me, too. No preparation, not even the serious pep talk I gave myself before coming tonight, could prevent me from eye-fucking this beautiful man. He has removed his tie and blazer. The crisp, white dress shirt he’s wearing pulls against his broad chest and is rolled up at the sleeves. A couple buttons are undone at the collar. His hair looks like he’s combed his fingers through it a million times, giving him that just rolled out of bed, rugged appeal. His come hither look and crooked smile is almost my undoing. I stand stock still as he appraises me. I
feel
his eyes glide over me as if it were his hands.