The Sex Surrogate (9 page)

“Jake...”

“Just
say thank you and move on,” he said, shaking his head. “Christ.
It's harder to give you a gift than it is to give you a compliment.
Go shower and get yourself ready.”

Then
he was gone, and I did just that.

I
felt naked underneath my dress. Which was stupid. I mean the
stockings were pretty close to the leggings I usually wore under
skirts. Except they weren't. Because as soon as I walked outside
(after Jake insisted I show him the clasp of the garter to prove I
was, in fact, wearing it) and the cold air flew up my skirt, feeling
intimate and odd against my bare upper thighs.

But
I kept going. Because there was no going back.

I
walked up to his door a while later, taking a deep, unsteady breath.
This was it. I sighed, opening the door.

“Ava,”
Chase said, looking up from some paperwork he was holding, leaning
against the desk in another black suit, this time with a gray shirt,
two buttons opened. “Can you lock the
door
behind you please?” he asked, putting the paperwork back into a
manila envelope and
sealing
it.

I
locked the door, thankful for an opportunity, no matter how brief, to
look away from him.

When
I turned back, though, he was right by me. How he moved so quietly
was completely beyond me. “You look beautiful,” he said
easily and I felt my breath catch. At my silence, he smiled slightly.
“Come on,” he said, arm to lower back as per usual,
“let's go get you a drink, okay?”

“Okay.”

He
led me through his office into his, well, I didn't even know what to
call the other room. He pointed me to the stereo as he moved to make
drinks. Feeling like it was somehow a test, I flipped through the
play lists, skipping over coffeehouse music, and deciding on
something called “soft blues”. As soon as it clicked on,
I could see Chase nodding. And it felt like approval. And damn if it
didn't give me the warm and tinglies.

He
turned to me a moment later, holding out a martini to me. “I
figured you might want something with a little more kick than red
wine,” he said, a smirk playing at his lips.

“Good
guess,” I said, taking it and having a large sip, a little too
pleased that he had observed by drink of choice at the bar.

“One
to ten?” he asked.

“Holding
steady at a five for now,” I admitted.

He
nodded, taking his drink in one sip and putting the glass down. Which
I took to mean: Alright. Shit was about to go down.

So
I gulped the rest of my drink and put my glass down too.

“Come
on,” he said, reaching down and taking my hand in his. I
followed behind him, staring at our interlocking hands with a weird
sense of wonder. It was so tame, but at the same time, it was so
sweet a gesture. “Why don't you kick out of those shoes?”
he suggested, dropping my hand and turning to mess with the fire and
lights.

I
sat down on the sectional, unstrapping my heels, then putting them at
the far end of the couch, lined up.

Chase
sat down a moment later, his entire body touching mine from shoulder
to knee. Then he reached out, one arm going around my back, the other
slipping under my knees and pulling until my legs went across his
lap, his hand settling on my hip.

“Hi,”
he said, tilting his head, watching me.

I
forced a wobbly little smile. “Hi.”

“I
like these,” he said, running his hand down my hip, over my
thigh, my calf, the sensation on the stockings so smooth and sensual,
my body happily made the small leap into arousal. “Did you wear
them for me?”

Hell
yeah I did.

“Yes,”
I admitted, watching his hand continue its lazy exploration.

“You're
so sweet,” he said, his head leaning in, then starting to plant
small kisses across my jawline. I closed my eyes, exhaling on an
unexpected sigh, because the nerves were settling and all that was
left underneath was the desire. There. Foreign, but familiar at the
same time. “Ava,” he said, softly, his kisses stopping
and leaving me unreasonably disappointed.

“Yeah?”
I asked, eyes still closed.

“Kiss
me.”

My
eyes opened, finding his. Close. So close. I looked down at his lips
for a second, my own opening in anticipation, then back up to his
eyes. And I knew with blinding clarity that he wasn't going to let me
get away with not doing it. If I didn't kiss him first, there would
be no kissing. And, damn, I just... needed to taste him one more
time. Just to see if it was as earth-shaking as it had seemed the
last two times.

So
I leaned in. My arm moved from where it was in a fist on my thigh and
reached up toward his neck, the fingers dancing across the skin at
the side for a second before settling at the back of his neck. His
eyes closed for a second as he took a deep breath, then opened his
gorgeous blue eyes to watch me. I tilted my head up toward his,
slowly closing the space between us, my lips on his softly, my eyes
falling closed. Because it was barely a touch and I felt like I was
freaking drowning in it.

His
hand around my back dug slightly into my shoulder, but he stayed
pliant under me, waiting for me to deepen the kiss, letting me have
control. So I did. I pressed my lips harder into his, taking his
lower lip between mine and nipping slightly.

Then
he was moving, his arms grabbing my back and hips, pulling me until I
moved to straddle him, lips never losing each other. Both of my hands
went up, cradling the rough stubble at his jaw as I slipped my tongue
between his open lips. His hands were at my hips and the second my
tongue found his, his fingers dug in hard to my skin. Emboldened, I
wrapped my arms around the back of his head, deepening the kiss.
Trying to get completely consumed in it.

It
seemed to last forever.

And
I wished it would.

I
would happily kiss him until the end of friggen time.

But
then his hands went to the sides of my face, pulling gently until our
lips no longer touched. “Open your eyes baby,” he said,
his voice sounding husky.

I
opened them slowly, the lids suddenly feeling incredibly heavy, and I
watched him from underneath them.

“Jesus
Christ, you're beautiful,” he said softly, his thumb stroking
over my cheekbone. “I want to see more of you,” he told
me, the idea barely breaking through the happy little fog in my head.
“Take off your dress, sweetheart.”

Those
words broke through.

I
felt myself straighten, my eyes opening wide.

“Don't
freak out,” he said, his hands sliding back down to my hips,
grabbing the material of my dress and scrunching it up in his hands.
“I want to take this off you so badly,” he said, looking
down at his hands, “but you need to be the one to do it.”
His eyes drifted back up to mine. “Please take it off for me.”

Holy
crap.

Okay.

Could
I really refuse?

With
him looking at me like that?

I
took a slow, steadying breath, letting my hands reach down and land
on top of his, squeezing until he let go, moving down to rest on the
outsides of my knees instead. I could do it. That was why I was
there. To test my limits. To push past them. To stop living in my
comfort zone. Besides, I had spent hundreds on the pretty lingerie.
It would be a complete waste if he didn't see it all.

I
exhaled slowly, my eyes watching his face as I grabbed the material
and quickly pulled it up over my head and threw it to the side.
There. Done. I did it.

Chase's
breath hissed out of his mouth. “
Fuck me
,” he
growled, shaking his head. His eyes raked over my body. And,
normally, I would want to squirm, to cover, to fucking run away. But
all I felt was a slow, growing heat, covering my body, settling in my
core. Because his eyes looked full of wonder, they looked like they
were trying to memorize every inch of me.

His
eyes slowly made their way up to mine. “Was this for me too?”
he asked. I nodded, attempting a smile. “Baby, stand up,”
he told me, his hands pushing slightly against my knees until I slid
off of him, suddenly self conscious. His hands settled at the tops of
the thigh-highs.

Feeling
tense, I swallowed. The silence was becoming uncomfortable. “I...
ah... wanted to say thank you,” I mumbled.

His
eyes shot back up to mine. “Babe, what do you have to thank me
for?”

“Because,”
I said, feeling like whatever words I would come out with would be
wrong. “Because... you're helping me so much.”

“Oh,
baby,” he said, smiling a little. Then he leaned forward,
shockingly, resting his forehead against my belly. “You're so
perfect,” he said and the words sent a shock through my system.

His
praise did something to me.

Normally
I fought compliments. I denied them. I certainly never believed them.

But
I believed Chase. His words settled into my chest and belly, filling
places I hadn't realized were empty. And amazing, flawless Chase
Hudson thought
I
was
perfect
.

Feeling
clumsy, my hand reached down, settling into the hair at the crown of
his head. His face tilted slightly, planting a kiss right below my
navel, before twisting his face up to look at me. He looked like he
was struggling for something to say. Amazing, eloquent, confident Dr.
Chase Hudson at a loss for words.

“Well,
you're welcome,” he said, smiling up at me.

I
was so surprised I laughed. No. Not laughed. Giggled. Like a freaking
school girl. Which only made him smile wider, the ends of his eyes
crinkling up slightly with the motion. Then his hands moved to my
hips, pushing me backward so he could slowly stand. With barely a
breath of space between us, he reached up and removed his jacket,
sliding it off his shoulders and arms then throwing it to the floor
on top of my dress. Then, watching me, he started to unbutton his
shirt.

Oh,
my god.

Okay.
He was getting naked.

Like...
right in front of me.

And
I wasn't absolutely terrified.

Stressed,
sure. But more than that, I was actually... curious. I wanted to know
what he looked like underneath all the clothes.

His
shirt went the way of his jacket, but my eyes stayed on his. To... I
don't know... protect his privacy? Which was ridiculous. “Ava,
look,” he said, watching me. “I want you to look.”

I
felt my sex tighten at that. Tighten. Hard. Like there was a coil
pulled too tight for a moment, almost painful, before it released.

My
eyes drifted slowly down, looking at the wide line of his shoulders.
Strong. The kind of shoulders you knew you could always lean on. Then
down to his strong chest. Lower. The lines of his abdominal muscles,
strong, deep. Not the puny kind you can barely make out underneath
the skin, these were etched. Lines I could sink my fingers into. His
hands were at his belt, paused, until my eyes landed on them and they
started working, pulling out of his belt loops and then throwing it
to join the pile of discarded items on the floor. His hands went
automatically to the button of his slacks, pushing it out, then
sliding the zipper down. The backs of his hands pushed against my
belly as he did so and I took a step back so he had room to take off
his pants. They went down quickly and he stepped out of the legs,
somehow pushing his shoes and socks at the same time. My eyes
drifted, just a little, pausing right at his adonis belt, that deep,
deep V that led into his black boxer briefs.

But
I couldn't let my eyes go below the waistband, so I let my eyes drift
back upward until I found his face again. He gave me a small smile.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, surprising me.

What
did I want to do?

Honestly,
I had no freaking idea.

But
what I wanted, what I needed, was a little comfort. A little
reassurance.

Without
thinking about it. Truly, without even knowing my real intention, I
walked into him, wrapping my arms around his back and settling my
face underneath his chin. There wasn't even the slightest hesitation
before his arms went around me, pulling me close. And it didn't even
matter that his arms were on top of mine, trapping them under his
strength. For the first time in my life, I was being legitimately
trapped, and I wasn't freaking out.