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“I was worried.” He sounds different. Standoffish, but I can’t quite tell. This is our first real phone conversation.

“I’m sorry.” I wait and he sighs loudly into the phone. I pull on my hair and twirl the strands around my finger nervously.

“Were you with Phillip?” His tone is bored, monotone.

“What? No,” I respond, not sure why he’d think that. “Phillip dropped me off and left with Anabelle.”

“Where’s his wife?” The question surprises me and the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Is he seriously jealous of Phil?

“In San Francisco National Cemetery.” I say.

“He’s a widower? What happened?” I still don’t like his tone. It hints on accusing, and I’ve got nothing to say to him if that’s the case.

“Drunk driver hit her on her way home from work two years ago. She was killed instantly.” I swallow the lump in my throat, thinking of the beautiful blonde who was filled with life, taken away from all of us, especially Anabelle and Phillip, far too soon.

“I’m sorry.” Another long pause. He sighs deeply and shocks me with his next question. “You’re not in love with him?” His voice is a whisper and more telling than I expected from him.

I smile into the phone. “No Chase. But he is a part of my life. He’s my best friend, and his daughter is important to me.”

“I see.” That’s it. He sees? What does that even mean? God, he’s such an enigma. “When is your appointment to have your stitches removed?”

That was a peculiar transition from Phillip to my doctor’s appointment. “Friday morning.” I feel a tingle of anticipation. I pray he wants to see me this weekend.

“I’ll be there to pick you up at seven.”

“What? No, you don’t have to go to my doctor’s appointment. I’m not afraid,” I assure him.

“I didn’t say you were. I will pick you up Friday. Then after, do you have to go to work?” he asks.

“Yes,” He wants to take me to my doctor’s appointment. Butterflies start in my stomach and I lean back into my pillows and smile nervously.

“I’ll have Jack pick you up from work and bring you to my office here. I have a late meeting on Friday.” He doesn’t ask to see me and if I wasn’t so downright needy for him, I’d likely tell him off. But I can’t. I want him too much.

“Okay,” I agree without question.

He sighs deeply into the phone. “Baby, I look forward to being with you,” he says seductively. It’s like the flame lighting on a gas stove. Chase can turn me on with a few breathy words.

“Me, too.” I barely get the words out. His tone, the sound of his frustrated sigh does wicked things to my lady parts.

“I can’t wait to kiss you, run my tongue along your skin,” he adds. “I can almost taste you from the other night.”

I bite back a moan. “Jesus, Chase.”

“I can’t wait to make you mine, Gillian.” What does that mean to a man like him? Mine for the night? For the weekend? Forever? A chill runs through me at all the possibilities. “And Baby?” he says in a deep gravelly voice. I shudder and heat fires down my chest to settle heavily between my thighs. An ache for him starts deep in my core and I squeeze my thighs together and start to tickle the bare skin above my panties.

“Yes?” I hang on his every word, slipping my hand under the lace fabric.

“Don’t masturbate.” What the hell? I pull my hand out of my underwear as if it has been zapped by lightning. “I want to be the one to make you come from now on.” His voice is thick, sexy and dominant. Chills run up my spine and goose bumps break out across my skin.

“Oh, God. You’re killing me, Chase.” I admit. The man has had me on a slow scalding burn since the moment we exchanged glances at the bar a few days ago.

“Friday,” he finishes in a husky timber. “Sweet dreams.” He hangs up without saying goodbye. Maybe he never waits for people to say goodbye. So strange. Smart, sexy as hell, and devastatingly hard to ignore.

He asked me not to masturbate. After a conversation like that, the only thing I can think about is rubbing one off quickly to relieve the intense pressure he’s built up in me. I’m strung so tight, one strum of my clit, and I’d be humming in orgasm.

Sleep. It’s the only defense I have against the raging desire for him. After these stitches are removed, I am not leaving his side until he puts me out of my misery. I don’t care if I have to strip naked and beg.

***

Monday comes fast, and I’m back in the real world. Fundraising, donor testimonials and event planning is on the docket this week and I jump in with a flourish. Taye and I meet for lunch. We discuss what happened in Chicago in detail. I confide in him that I’m seeing Chase this weekend. To put it lightly, he is not impressed. He’s worried about me and my career.

It’s not as though he is telling me anything I didn’t know. I’ve already been over the pros and cons a million times. Really, though, when it comes down to it, it is none of his business.

Chase and I share a few texts throughout the week and he calls me Tuesday evening to tell me he’ll be out of town the rest of week, returning late on Thursday. I welcome the time to truly collect my thoughts, knowing he’s not just a short drive away. I know the situation with Chase is ill advised. All the warning signs are going off, but the silk of his voice over the phone and the memory of his hands on my body crush those blaring signals, leaving nothing but anticipation in its wake.

Friday morning at seven, someone knocks on the door. Maria springs off the couch like an Olympic runner. She opens the door before I can set down my coffee cup. I snicker at her exuberance. She’s on a mission to meet this man and nothing is going to get in her way. I figured she’d have to wait. Chase typically sends his linebacker.

I’m surprised when Maria and Chase enter the living area, arm in arm speaking in Spanish. Chase is wearing a pristine black suit, pin-striped blue dress shirt with a crisp white collar. His French cuffs peek out of his suit coat and the light from the kitchen bounces off his silver cufflinks, blinding me.

“
Cuándo aprendiste a hablar español?
” Maria asks.

“
Yo aprendí en la universidad, pasó un período en el extranjero,
” Chase responds.

Maria’s clearly impressed. Her smile is huge and she’s using her hands animatedly as she speaks. That’s a clear signal she’s been sucked into Air Davis where there are no stops and everyone collects two hundred dollars.

“Hello? Remember me? I speak English,” I chastise them.

“She asked me when I learned to speak Spanish, and I told her in college. That I spent a term abroad.” He makes his way to me and leans down to kiss me. His hand snakes into my hair and tilts my head to the side to gain deeper access. I open for him, enjoying the taste of his peppermint tongue.

A long wolf whistle from behind us makes me pull away and Chase grins. His eyes bright with merriment.

“Damn, you didn’t greet me like that,” Maria complains with a pout.

Chase puts his arm around my waist and pulls me against him. I curl into his side. “Sorry. I’m a one woman kind of man,” he says then dips down for another scorching kiss. Damn he’s pretty, and distracting. I push him off me and he chases my lips then settles for a quick nip on the bottom one before bringing his attention back to our admirer.

Maria winks as a wicked grin slides into place. “Gigi, call me later. Let me know whether or not you’ll be coming home this evening.” She’s about to head to her room to change for rehearsal.

“She won’t be coming home,” Chase answers, a hand at my nape, his preferred swooping circles drawn into my skin, send shivers to race along my spine.

We both turn and he shrugs nonchalantly. Maria grins at me and waggles her eyebrows.

“Shall we go, Kitten?” His hand caresses my elbow.
Kitten?
I’m going to ensure that nickname doesn’t stick.

I hug Maria good bye, and Chase holds out his hand to her. “It’s been a pleasure, Miss De La Torre.”

Maria laughs and pulls him into a hug. She whispers something in his ear before patting him on the back. Chase coughs. “Understood,” he says with a nod.

He leads me out of the apartment and into the waiting car. I give Jack directions to the doctor’s office then lean back into the seat next to Chase. He puts his hand on my stocking covered knee and slides it down my inner thigh until he reaches the edge of my thigh-high.

“Good girl,” he whispers. He traces the edge of the stocking, and I open my legs wider. He doesn’t take the bait which makes me pout. “All in good time,” he says against my ear before nipping the flesh there.

I groan and clamp my legs together. “What did Maria say to you?” I ask, trying to tame the wild harlot inside of me.

“She threatened me,” he says flatly.

I blink a few times while the words have trouble forming on my tongue. “She didn’t!”

He grins and nods. “She said if I hurt you she’d fucking kill me. Her words, not mine.” He chuckles.

She’s a dead woman. Wait until I get my claws into her. Revenge is a mean bitch and I intend to invoke mine at the most inopportune time. I shake my head in frustration. So damned protective, my girl. I can’t wait to get her back.

“I like her. She’s very,” he pauses, “real,” he finishes.

Just then my phone pings. I pull the phone from my new Louis Vuitton and check the screen.

To: Gillian Callahan

From: Maria De La Torre

Gatito? I hope that means he likes licking the kitty. (-;  

“God, she’s incorrigible!” I laugh and try to stuff the phone back into my purse. Before I can, Chase swipes the phone and holds it out while I try to grab it. His arms are too damn long!

“What?” The man has no concern for one’s privacy. He reads the message and hands the phone back to me with a smirk. It burns a hole through my palm as I wait for his response.

Time has stopped, and I lean my head back and close my eyes, not wanting to know what he thinks. His hand slides higher up my leg, almost tickling the edge of my panties. His nose brushes my neck and the small hairs there stand on end. His tongue trails up the side of my neck and swirls the edge of my ear. The breath I was holding escapes in a whoosh.

His voice is more like a growl than a whisper against my ear. “I plan to lick you
everywhere
, every inch, especially here.” He punctuates his statement by cupping my sex roughly. I bite my lip and thrust my hips forward on a moan. I feel his lips curl into a sultry smile against my cheek. “I love how responsive you are. How wet you become for me.” He slides one finger up and down my cleft, his breath against my skin sets my nerve endings on fire.

The car stops and Jack gets out. I curse when Chase removes his hand and adjusts his suit coat over his straining erection. At least I know he’s as affected as I am. The outside world would never have a clue he’s just fondled a woman in his car. He is stellar at keeping his composure.

We get out of the car and walk into the doctor’s office. I take deep breaths and hold his hand. It’s like an anchor in an oncoming storm.

Chapter 9

The doctor’s office is bright and comfortable. Purple chairs nestle against a long wall in the waiting area. Magazines are scattered on top of the lone coffee table. Chase picks a seat away from any of the other patients as I check in. I haven’t been to this doctor previously but made sure my past records were sent from the doctor I had in Sacramento prior to my visit. I’m ordered to fill out paperwork. Chase sits quietly next to me, his warm hand caressing my back in soothing sweeps. He doesn’t know this, but I am not a fan of doctors. Countless visits to hospitals where doctor after doctor quizzed me about how I got hurt, poked and prodded at me has made me leery.

In the past I’d always lied, made up bogus stories about falling down on my bike, rollerblades, and stairs. None of which happened but seemed likely. Some of the medical professionals cared very little. Others would notify me they were bringing in a patient advocate. Those words always made me throw on my clothes and escape as if the building were on fire. The last thing I needed then were helpful “advocates” who would end up calling the police on Justin.

I learned that particular lesson the hard way. Justin was a master manipulator. The first time an advocate tried to “help”, I was beaten black and blue while being fucked brutally. I could barely walk for days after. Justin claimed he fucked some sense into me. It worked. I never spoke to an advocate again. Not until I made the call that saved my life.

Within fifteen minutes of arriving with Chase, I am seated in another waiting room. Chase followed me into the exam room as if he were owed the privilege. I sit on the exam table and twist my fingers together as he sits in a lone chair behind me. The silence between us is comfortable but still heavy with that energy that sizzles when we are near one another. He browses through his emails on his cellphone as I try to calm my heart rate with deep yoga style breathing Bree taught me. Being in a doctor’s office with Chase is a bit unsettling. If I’m honest, being in a doctor’s office at all is unsettling.

The doctor strides in with his nose in my file. He’s a man of about fifty, dark wavy hair, tall, strong build. He wears rimless glasses that add nicely to his features.

“So, Miss Callahan, you’ve come to have some stitches removed.” He looks at me over the rim of his glasses.

“Yes, Doctor Dutera.”

He flips through pages in my file, skimming them. It’s not a small file. The doctor in Sacramento must have been thorough in sending my past medical history. “Looks like you are no stranger to having stitches removed.” I clench my jaw tightly. “Let’s see here, also broken ribs, fractured wrists, dislocated shoulder, broken arm, not once but twice, black eyes and a slew of hospital visits.” He shakes his head and smacks his lips. “Looks like for a couple of years you were a regular over at Mercy General in Sac.” His eyes are kind as he looks from the file to me, then over at Chase. “Do you have any residual pain from those injuries,” he asks.

Residual pain? I glance towards Chase, hoping he isn’t paying attention. Instead of being in the chair, he’s standing right behind me with his chest a scant few inches from me. I look up into his eyes. They are clouded, unreadable. Tension emanates from him in droves and I close my eyes. I cannot see anything remotely close to pity ever again in someone else’s eyes. Especially a man I’m so taken with.