Chance on Love (6 page)

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Authors: Vristen Pierce

Tags: #workplace romance, #enemies to lovers, #millionaire, #Valentine, #erotic, #erotic romance, #wealthy, #office romance, #Valentine's Day

BOOK: Chance on Love
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Chance sighed as he scanned the room. “Who’s your friend?”

Amber gave him a bright smile before resting her eyes firmly on his dress shirt. “You know,
that
is a really nice color on you. The blue really makes your eyes pop.”

Folding his arms, he waited for an answer.

She took a deep breath. “It’s, uh, Stephanie.” She pointed over her own shoulder. “She’s back there. Anyway, great color.”

Chance chuckled. “Stephanie...
Love?

Amber leaned to the side, feigning interest in the drink selection behind the bar. “They make some of the best Cosmopolitans here.”

“No offense, but I don’t want to spend one second more than I have to with that woman.”

Frowning, she returned her attention to his face. “Why?”

He shot her a disbelieving look. “Why?”

“Okay,” she said, holding her hands up in surrender, “I know she can be a bit abrasive, a bit...grouchy.”

“A bit doesn’t even begin to cover it. The woman has homicidal urges, I’m sure of it.”

“Not that many, I swear.”

Chance smiled. “Still, no. I’m sorry.”

Her face fell and her dark brown eyes seemed to become even darker.

He almost felt bad for her. Not bad enough to put his life on the line, though, and that’s exactly what he did anytime he was around that little demon pal of hers. He couldn’t even believe Love would
want
him to take her home. “Wait...does she even know you’re asking me to do this?”

Amber nodded enthusiastically. “She doesn’t mind.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe,” he muttered. Love wanted him to take her home. Right. He almost smirked at the thought when another hit him like a ton of bricks—he’d wanted to take her home all right, and this opportunity had fallen right into his lap. Of course, in his fevered fantasies, he hadn’t exactly dropped her off at her door. And if she was willing, something he still didn’t quite believe, why wouldn’t
he
be?

Amber gave him an embarrassed look. “Well, okay then. Thanks anyway, and I’m sorry for bugging you.” She turned to go.

Chance really should have let her, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll do it.”

Her brown eyes lit up, and a big grin spread across her face. “Great, you won’t regret it.”

Yeah, he didn’t believe that either.

After thanking him profusely, she practically skipped off to tell the sexy devil woman of the latest developments. 

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

Chance had a night of scary Love ahead of him—he needed something strong. He couldn’t very well get plastered and drive, though. “Just a beer, thanks.” He looked across the room, every bit of his awareness closing in on the blonde form seated at a booth.

Their gazes locked, and they gave each other a nice long stare down.

Love broke the eye contact to look up at Amber, now standing next to her.

Chance took his beer from the bartender and slapped some cash down on the bar. There was nothing else to do except get this night over with. Waiting until Amber made her exit, he finally went over.

Love looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “If this is such a burden for you, you could have just said no.”

Sighing, he dropped down on the bench seat across from her. “What are you even talking about?”

She sat back and crossed her arms. “Well, it certainly took you long enough to come over here.”

“Had to psych myself up for the misery.” He tilted his head. “Why are you so concerned about how long it took me to get here? It’s not like I had to come over at all. I’m only taking you home. We don’t have to chat to make that happen.”

Love licked her lips, temporarily distracting him. “Then why did you come over here at all?”

Huh. He really didn’t have a good answer for that. “I guess I wanted to see for myself.”

“See what?”

“If you actually did want me to take you home. No offense, but I thought your friend was full of shit.” Chance thought he saw the briefest hint of a smile on her lips. “You don’t exactly like me, after all.”

“What makes you say that?”

He smiled. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s just a feeling.” He leaned forward slightly. “So, is it true, Love?” he asked softly. “You want this?” They stared into each other’s eyes for several long moments.

She cleared her throat. “I need a ride, you’re here, so...” She shrugged. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot. What do you say we just put that behind us and start over?”

Chance struggled not to smile. No way was this chick serious. Still, he was curious as to how far she would take this. Maybe he’d end up with another scalding cup of coffee being ‘accidentally’ spilled on him. Then again, maybe he’d end up in a bit of pain for entirely different—pleasurable—reasons. He decided to humor her.

“Really?” he asked. “What brought on this change of heart?”

“I guess I was a little out of line,” she mumbled while she avoided his eyes by looking around the bar.

He cupped his hand behind his ear. “I’m sorry, what?”

She rolled her eyes, finally turning her focus to him. “I
said
I guess I was a little out of line.”

He nodded. “You definitely were. Do I get an apology?”

“You just did.” Her gaze moved past his shoulder and she narrowed her eyes.

“What?” He started to turn, but she grabbed his shirt, pulling him close. “What the hell,” he said, frowning. Their faces were mere inches apart. Without warning, she swept her tongue over his lips. His cock immediately sprang to life.

“You want your apology or not,” she whispered against his lips.

Growling in response, he grabbed her face roughly. “Apologize.” She obliged by opening her mouth and covering it with his. His dick was more than alive now—it was as hard as it had ever been. He’d had his share of women, but none had turned him on this much with a single kiss. The feel of her tongue against his was almost enough to make him come right then and there.

Letting go of his shirt, she wrapped her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened. When she moaned into his mouth, he felt it down to his bones—one in particular. He buried his fingers in her hair, fighting the urge to rip her clothes off and fuck her right there on the table, in front of all the patrons at Mister’s.

Just as suddenly as it had started, the kiss ended. Her arms still around his neck, she pulled back and peered into his eyes. “Sorry.”

Chance was practically panting; the damn devil woman had taken his breath. He tried to sound nonchalant. “Now
that
was an apology. Not as much fun as the first one, but I’ll take it.”

This time, she did smile. It wasn’t an illusion. He saw it plain as day. The smile was quick and small, but it was there. That took him off guard almost as much as the kiss had.

After they pulled apart, they each sat there, looking at anything but one another. Finally, she spoke. “About that...”

Patiently, he waited for her to continue, though she seemed in no hurry to do so.

“It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

He nodded. Too bad. His gaze came to rest on those spell-casting lips of hers. It was for the best, really. She was homicidal, they hated each other,
and
he was kind of her temporary boss. Those things didn’t make the best recipe for meaningless sex.

Or...did they?

He was just about to blurt out his desire for a one-night stand when they were interrupted. “Steph,” a voice said from behind him. “Hey.”

Frowning, she looked up. “Clay? Is that you?”

“I thought you saw me when I was standing back there.”

“I was a bit preoccupied I guess,” she said with a laugh. “Isn’t Mister’s a little...low rent for a classy guy like you?”

He looked up to see Clayton Morrison...the Third. Bastard always did love tacking that on at the end. They’d met years ago when Chance was still working the Houston scene, shortly after college.

“Chance?” Clayton’s eyes widened a bit. “Chance Valentine?” Grinning, he slapped him on the shoulder. “Man, how long has it been?”

He grunted in response. It hadn’t been long enough.

Clayton turned his attention back to Love. “I’m meeting a few friends here. It’s close to their offices.”

She looked from one man to the other. “You two know each other?”

“Sure,” Clayton said. “After college, we both worked for a big station in Houston.”

Well, one of them had worked—and it hadn’t been Clayton. He’d been too busy bragging about his connections and his wealth. And busy trying to one-up Chance at every turn.

“I saw that, ah, kiss.” He cleared his throat. “You two are seeing each other?”

Chance scoffed before taking a swig of beer.

“Uh, yeah.” Love slid her hand across the table to caress one of his. “We’ve been together for a couple of blissful weeks now.”

Chance nearly choked. “What—”

“Weeks?” Clayton asked, leaning in slightly.

“Weeks,” she said, turning her attention to Chance. “I know we said we’d keep it quiet for a while longer, sweetheart, but I’m ready to tell the world.” She gave him a big smile.

He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew one thing. She may give the best, most painful hard-ons in the world, but he was not,
not
, pretending to be in a relationship with her. Chuckling, he sat back. “Oh, Love, there is no way—”

Clayton cocked his head. “But we only broke up a couple of weeks ago.”

That definitely piqued his interest. Clayton the Third had been with the devil’s mistress?

He glanced at Chance. “Man, I hate to tell you, but...” A broad grin spread across his face. “You’re a total rebound.” He started laughing.

Yeah, something told Chance the asshole hadn’t really hated to tell him that.

“Chance is no one’s rebound.”

Still smiling, Clayton shook his head. “Right.”

“He isn’t,” Love said again. “In fact, it’s nice to finally be with a real man.”

Chance bit back a laugh as Clayton’s expression fell.

“At least I don’t have to worry about who else he’s screwing.”

“Yeah?” He gave her a tight smile. “Big mistake.”

Chance stood up, towering over the little twerp. “Come on, Love,” he said, offering his hand. She readily accepted it.

Clayton was still fuming. “You thought
I
was a player and you get with this guy? You ain’t seen nothing yet, baby.”

“If you’ll excuse us, Clayton,” Chance said, grinning. “I’ve got quite a bit to show her tonight.” He winked. After taking a moment to enjoy Clayton’s blatant disgust, Chance led Love toward Mister’s exit.

This woman was a walking predicament, even without the fake relationship. Nevertheless, he did want her in the most carnal sense imaginable. And if that also caused poor old Clayton’s hackles to rise, all the better.

Chapter 8

The car ride was painfully awkward. She had acted like a complete loon back at the bar, but maybe the gods were finally smiling on her. Chance had apparently decided to drop the whole thing.

“So Clayton cheated on you, huh?”

Stephanie rolled her eyes and continued to face the passenger side window. Now,
this
was the luck with which she was familiar. “He’s a sleazy asshole, whatever.”

Chance was silent for a few moments. “How’d you two meet?”

“The station ran a story on him when he planned a fundraiser to raise money for one of the local senior centers.” She’d attended the fundraiser and he’d asked her out. Repeatedly. After blowing him off out of pure common sense—what could a man like that actually want with a woman like
her?
—she’d relented.

But, hell, never mind Clay, she was still trying to take her mind off that kiss. She hadn’t been expecting much when she had pulled Chance to her, but...mercy.

Having him take such command of her mouth had started a throbbing between her thighs. She had felt those lips many times in her dreams, but real life was different. The schmuck had taken her damn breath away.

And then she’d gone on about how it wouldn’t happen again when, really, she was ready to ride his cock right there on one of the buttery soft, leather seats of his fancy Jag.

There was no way to deny it—he turned her on like no other man ever had. The fact that he was a man—not a boy trapped in a man’s body, like Clay and all the others—was enough to make him irresistible. Something told her she might have finally found the one man who was strong enough to take control of
her
. The thought gave her chills. Being meek and submissive had never been her thing, but submitting to the likes of Valentine wasn’t exactly an unappealing thought.

Even now, her pussy grew damp as she thought about the ways he could dominate her.

“You ready to tell me what tonight’s really about?”

She feigned ignorance. “What do you mean?”

He never took his eyes from the road. “Wanting me to take you home, pretending to want a truce, kissing me like you’d completely lost your mind.” He glanced at her then. “Need I go on?”

“You needn’t.” Stephanie sighed. “I kind of wanted you to be my date to the Valentine’s gala next month.”

“The what?”

The sheer disbelief in his voice almost made her smile. It was as if he had never heard of something so ludicrous. “It’s a yearly thing. A bunch of execs hold this party and we all go.”

“So you need a date, and it has to be me?”

“It doesn’t
have
to be you, smart ass. It was just an idea.”

“But why? You don’t even like me.”

“I don’t like anyone.”

Chance laughed. “True enough. I guess with your charming personality, you probably don’t have many other options.”

“Watch it,” she said, fighting an urge to smile. She sort of liked the fact that he wasn’t shy about calling her out. It was actually a breath of fresh air. Fortunately, she didn’t have much time to dwell on that because he pulled his car into her driveway.

He cut the ignition.

She stared at his profile, barely lit by moonlight trying its best to filter through the tinted windows of the car. She wasn’t normally one to be speechless. “Uh, thanks for the ride,” she muttered.

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