Authors: Audrey Carlan
We reach our destination, and I am wired for sound. With little touches and caresses, the man has me on sexual pins and needles. Men have not paid attention to me the way Chase does. Maybe because I never let them. Chase seems to watch every move, every subtle nuance, the flick of my hair, the shake of my foot. Everything. It is as if he is intimately in tune with my natural self.
Sex spills from his lips as he speaks and in the way he inches his body closer to mine. I find I want to climb into his lap and stay for a week. There is this heavy, needy ache that fills the air around us, stifling with its unfulfilled intent. If he doesn’t put me out of my misery soon and take me, I fear I’ll explode. Icarus flying to close to the sun. I look at the flesh of my arms and legs to ensure they aren’t sizzling and burning already, sitting so close to white hot fire.
We arrive at the restaurant and Chase escorts me up a narrow staircase, hand firmly planted on the bare skin of my lower back. I can hear the melodic lull of a piano playing as we enter a large space filled with white columns and hard wood floors. My heels click against the dark surface. A catacomb of open rooms makes each dining space seem small, intimate. The walls are a soft, buttery yellow, the light so low that the room glows. The walls have few adornments, only a couple of pieces of large art hanging on one wall. Tall skinny vases stand like sentinels along the wall, giant sticks poke out in every direction. A simple frosted colored glass lights each table with a small orchid lying alongside it. Golden leather high back seats nestle against a cappuccino colored table. It’s very simple and a complete contrast to the bar we went to last night. It has an Asian-inspired spirit to it.
People talk quietly at their tables; everyone is dressed impeccably. Chase caresses my lower back, his palm pressing lightly against the naked flesh to usher me forward.
“Mr. Davis, it’s lovely to see you tonight,” says a man in a structured black suit.
“Thank you, Jeffery. I would like my table. We will be staying for dinner. Please tell the chef to prepare a seafood dish for two.”
I tug on his suit coat. He leans in and I whisper into his ear. “I don’t eat seafood.”
“Really? None at all?” He looks at me quizzically.
“No.” I bite my lip and check my pedicure. Yep, still looking good. No chips in the pink paint.
“Hold that, Jeffery. This stunning lady does not eat seafood. What would you like, Baby?”
Baby again?
A girl could get used to that endearment.
“I’d give anything for some pasta.” I grin and lick my lips. He notices and brings his thumb up to pet it gently. His eyes go dark, his gaze intense as he studies my face.
“Don’t lick them or I will,” he warns.
I nod. Excitement swirls in my gut at his words. Would he lick me right here in the middle of a restaurant with everyone watching? If I was a betting woman, I’d say the odds were a complete and resounding yes.
“Apparently the lady would like some pasta, sans the seafood. I will have the same.” He makes a tsking sound. “What this woman does to me.” He shakes his head and leads the way with his hand splayed along my back. I can’t focus on anything because his finger is distractingly close to the fabric of my thong. He’s definitely ramping up the seduction. I’d give in with a loud “Take Me” if I thought he would go against his earlier decision to wait.
The maître d leads us to a secluded table set apart from the other patrons. It’s separated by a wall of dark plantation style shutters. Chase pulls out my chair. I don’t think in all of my twenty four years, I have had a man pull out my chair. It’s so noble and old fashioned. It’s part of what makes this mercurial man unique, so…special.
Wine appears without Chase ordering it. “I took the liberty of bringing you the newest selection, Sir.” Jeffery says confidently.
“Have at it, my friend.” I love how Chase is jovial and respectful with his staff, especially after what I thought was rudeness to the bartender the other night. He claims it was his impatience to ensure I’d have a drink with him. I choose to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Jeffery pours the wine and Chase sips it. “You’ve done it again. It’s perfect and will go well with the pasta.” The maître d fills our glasses and exits, closing the shutters, providing complete privacy.
He clinks our glasses together. “To us,” he says. I feel my cheeks heat as I tap his glass then take a sip. The wine is to die for splendid. This is the third time I’ve had a glass of wine in Chase’s presence and every last one of them were incredible.
Chase smiles as I assess the legs in the glass of red. “So Gillian, what does a typical day for you look like?” he asks and takes his own sip of wine.
I’m about to answer but am interrupted by the buzzing of my phone from the new purse. “Just a sec.” I check and realize I have six missed calls. Not good. The text display is from Maria.
To: Gillian Callahan
From: Maria De La Torre
Dios Mio, are you okay? Call me. Now!
Oh no. She knows. Shit! This is not going to be good.
“Everything okay?” Chase asks at the same time another ping rings out from my cell phone. I glance down.
To: Gillian Callahan
From: Bree Simmons
What the hell happened? Where are you? I’m freaking out! Call me.
I look up at Chase with what must be a miserable expression, because his gaze fills with concern. “Um, looks like the girls found out about last night?” Another ping. I roll my eyes.
Not now!
I look down. It’s Kat. I sigh loudly.
To: Gillian Callahan
From: Kathleen Bennett
I just heard. We’re worried about you, Gigi. Please tell me you’re okay? How can we help?
“What the hell is going on?” Chase’s voice rises above the static of irritation swirling around my subconscious.
Damn that Phillip!
I turn my phone off and concentrate on him. “They found out. I’m going to kill Phillip tomorrow,” I say annoyed. Phillip can’t just leave well enough alone. I should have never told him. No, that was never an option. I should have told him
not
to say anything to the girls so that I could tell them first. Preferably after they’ve had a couple glasses of wine. None of us take kindly to the other being hurt and being mugged at gunpoint… I take a huge gulp of my wine and am momentarily assaulted by the lush berry notes. It’s delicious.
“Who found out? What did they find out?” I wasn’t planning on going into detail about my family. Technically, they’re not my blood but they are the only family I have and they are fiercely protective.
“The girls. Phillip must have told Maria what happened. Now they’re all freaking out and blowing up my phone.”
“Gillian, back up. Who are the girls?”
I light up at the mention of my soul sisters. I miss them terribly. My huge grin must have set him at ease because his eyes twinkle as he smiles at me. “This could take a while,” I joke.
“I’ve got all night, especially when you have that gorgeous smile on your face. Tell me about them.”
Jeffery brings a cheese, olive and meat appetizer that pairs perfectly with the wine. After a few nibbles, I explain the loves of my life.
“Maria De La Torre is half Italian, half Spanish. Very feisty. She’s the most incredible dancer you’ve ever seen. Watching her dance is like…” My hands and arms flair out trying to show it. “…like watching a painting come to life, it’s breathtaking.” He nods, and I continue. “We’re roommates. We’ve lived together the past couple years, but have been friends for half a decade.” I stop a moment when the memory of that first meeting invades my mind.
We were both black and blue, sitting quietly with a group of other battered women who’d escaped their bad relationships. The other women were there to coach us. But neither of us felt a connection to them. They looked perfect, didn’t have a scratch. Even though they said they’d been in our same chair a time or two, Maria and I looked at one another and clasped hands. Right then and there, I knew we’d support one another for life.
“You’ve got this glazed look in your eyes. Tell me.” Chase breaks into the memory.
I smile, trying to recall where I was before I took a detour down memory lane. “Maria just has a fire in her. When you’re near her, she’s warm and comforting. She traveled the world dancing until she had uh…an accident.” I settle on accident. I don’t intend to go into the details behind the particular event that almost ruined her career. “But she’s back to her old self and working at The San Francisco Theatre with one of the local dance companies.”
“I know the company and the theatre. Beautiful architecture,” he says.
I nod. “You should see one of her shows. Everyone is impressed when they see her talent.”
“Looking forward to meeting her. Maybe tomorrow when I take you home from the airport?” I nod and he smiles before plopping in a bite of meat and cheese. “Continue.” And I do because it’s fun and easy to talk about my girlfriends.
“Bree Simmons owns “I Am Yoga” in downtown San Francisco. We met several years ago when I took up yoga. She’s absolutely gorgeous, flexible.” I waggle my eyebrows at him and he laughs. ”She has the voice of an angel. She will bring any grown man to their knees through her songs, flexibility and huge heart. But what is so amazing is that she doesn’t even have a clue about her beauty.”
“Neither do you.”
I tilt my head to the side in question.
“I think you’re gorgeous. You have no idea of your own beauty.”
I know my cheeks are back to being rosy as I smile shyly, then take another bite of brie cheese and think about how funny it is that I’m talking about Bree and eating Brie at the same time. I tell Chase, and we both laugh.
“Is that all of them?” he questions.
I shake my head. “You know about Phillip, now.” His eyes darken, almost slamming a shutter down over the easy conversation but I forge on, determined to bring it back.
“Last, but most certainly not least, is Kathleen Bennett, otherwise known as Kat. She’s reserved, quiet and the most talented costume designer in the business. She does the costume work for the San Francisco Theatre. I met her through Maria. I like to think of her as my tree-hugging comrade because she cares so much about the earth and the environment. We both do, but she’s very green.”
“Being green is excellent,” he says. I nod in agreement. “Is that all of them?” he asks with the most stunning smile.
“Those are my soul sisters.” His eyebrows knit together. “I don’t have any siblings or family besides my biological father. I don’t see him much. They are all I have. We support one another through everything.”
Chase sips his wine. “They sound wonderful. I’m looking forward to meeting them.” His tone is sincere and I wonder if he will really be around long enough to be introduced.
“Wait until they get a load of you. You might want to go after those three beauties. Two hot blondes and a brunette. More your speed?” I venture.
He frowns. “Don’t compare yourself to any woman. I. Want. You.” His eyes are heated, daring me to comment.
“Why, Chase?” I hate how small my voice sounds.
“A woman hasn’t caught my eye in years. I don’t date, never bring them to my home.” My mouth drops and he looks away. “Hell, most women I meet I bed within hours.”
I can imagine how any woman would fall willingly into bed with him. Also explains why he assumed what he did when we met. He’s the real living version of Superman. Hell, bedding him is all I can think about right now. I squeeze my legs together, relieving a bit of the throbbing ache he’s left me with since waking me.
Chase continues, “Gillian, I take women to one of my hotels, fuck them and go home.”
My mind processes this information and I shake my head. It doesn’t make sense. He took me to his room last night. Laid in bed with me. Took care of me through the night. That’s the sweet, Knight in Shining Armani I know. Not this callous womanizer.
Chase takes a deep breath. “All I can think about with you is bringing you to my penthouse in San Francisco and locking you away with me for a week. I’m not sure what is between us, but I’m committed to finding out why I’m so drawn to you.” He frowns as if he doesn’t like what he’s said.
“And then what? Are you going to love me and leave me too?” My voice is meek, so unlike the strong person I’m trying to pretend to be.
He shakes his head. “I haven’t yet, and I’ve had ample opportunity.” His gaze is intense, daring me to argue. He could have had me several times and didn’t. What does that mean? “I slept better next to you last night than I have in years, even waking every couple hours to take care of you. I’m still trying to understand it.” His hand covers mine; his thumb caresses the pale skin, tracing smooth circles. I shiver and pull away, feeling a bit awkward and insecure.
Jeffery comes in with our pasta dishes. They’re beautiful. The pasta has a crème or white sauce with sprinkles of fresh herbs sitting in a square plate. A perfectly white orchid nestles at the side with a sprig of rosemary. It’s almost too pretty to eat but I twirl a long noodle around my fork and taste anyway. It’s out of this world good. I moan around the cheesy goodness. The food is indescribable.
Chase watches me intently. “I love watching you eat. The sound coming from those ruby lips makes my dick hard.” He licks his lips solicitously. Will I ever get used to him, his candor, and the intensity? I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff. A subtle gust of wind will topple me over the edge at any moment.
“Tell me about your family, Chase?”
He wipes his mouth with his napkin, sips his wine and rests his elbow on the table. “I spent most of my childhood and teen years living with my Uncle Charles on my Mother’s side. He was a widower and taking care of my four cousins, Craig, Carson, Cooper and Chloe.”
I giggle and he stops, that sculpted eyebrow going into a curious point. “You all have a name that starts with “C”?”
“Yes, and we all share the surname of Davis.”
That’s odd. He said that was his mother’s brother. Wouldn’t he have his Father’s name?