Satisfaction Guaranteed (9 page)

A stunned look came over her face. "I just realized. I don't know where they are."

"That's because you're a wild woman." Chase grinned at the look on her face and tweaked her nipple before he left her to bathe and regroup. Although if she took too long, he decided as he thudded down the stairs, he'd come and drag her out of the tub. He didn't intend to let her pull away from him again.

He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. Giving Rachel a little privacy was one thing. Leaving her alone in a vulnerable state was another. He didn't want to leave any more room for doubts to grow.

Rachel closed her eyes and ducked under, then rose up so that her head was above the water level. The water was just right, not too hot, not too cold. Although she could tell it would cool quickly. She wondered if Chase had set the temperature that way on purpose, so it wouldn't encourage her to linger overlong in the tub.

Chase
. She washed herself with lazy movements as she thought about the fascinating man who was waiting for her.
He really thought she was the handcuffs type? She could see how he'd gotten the idea, given the way they'd met and what they'd done on their first date. But he also had to know this was fantasy and her real life was a world apart.

That thought sent a sharp pain through her midsection, and Rachel realized she was dangerously caught up in the fantasy herself. She wanted to think she was sexy and fun. And maybe she wanted Chase to think so, too.

Maybe she just plain wanted Chase.

She sighed and ducked her head under the water again. No maybe about it. He sent her into sensory overload. Maybe that was just chemistry. If so, there was obviously a lot to be said for chemistry. He kept surprising her, and that engaged her interest fully. She'd never met a man like him.

Although come to think of it, she knew next to nothing about him. Aside from what car he drove, which could be a rental, and that he had this cabin, what
did
she know about Chase?

She knew he tasted good, but that kind of information didn't fit neatly into any classification. Unless she put it under the mental heading "Why Sex with Chase Is Fantastic." There was a very long list of items she could file there.

She knew he was deliberate, that he had a habit of thinking things through before he spoke or acted. That was better, a character-revealing trait. What else?

She knew he kissed as if he meant it, he had a sexually dominating streak a mile wide, and he was a very skilled lover. That made her stomach churn because of the implication that he'd had a lot of practice. On other women. Women who were more fun than she was.

Stop comparing yourself with imaginary women
, Rachel
lectured herself. The last thing she needed was a trip to mental purgatory because she was making negative comparisons and imagining the worst. For all she knew, the women Chase had practiced on were lousy in business, had no ambition, couldn't run a board meeting. Dressed badly.

That made her feel a little better, but she really wished she'd thought to bring along some Häagen-Dazs for emotional support.

The whole line of thinking was silly, anyway. They didn't have a relationship, so she wasn't in competition for his attention with any other women, past, present, future, or wholly imaginary. What they had was an arrangement. She'd wanted fun sex, and Chase had certainly delivered there. Way beyond her expectations.

Did it matter that he didn't know the real Rachel? Did she care if he'd still want to handcuff her at the end of the day if he did?

Yes. It mattered. And she cared. It was dumb, it was probably going to get her hurt, but in her defense she couldn't have known she'd feel this way when she'd planned it.

In her admittedly limited experience, sex had never been so raw, so all-encompassing. So intense. So shattering. There hadn't been any distance, any boundaries. Just the two of them and an explosive physical response she couldn't have predicted.

And if she was honest, it wasn't just physical. Maybe it was because she'd never done anything remotely resembling domination and submission in the past, maybe that kind of sex play created an intense emotional element by its nature. But if so, what about the people who did this kind of thing
regularly? Did they fall a little bit in love with all their partners and feel abandoned when playtime was over?

That thought stopped her dead and prompted a harsh internal lecture.
Get a hold of yourself this minute, Rachel Law. You are not in love. You're infatuated, and the sex is amazing, but when it's over you will not be abandoned because this is not real
.

She could admit to herself that she wanted it to be real, however. And she wasn't sure how much of that was because she wanted to be the woman he clearly thought she was and how much was because she wanted him. It seemed like a fiftyfifty split, and it occurred to her that maybe the combination was the elusive missing something she'd come here looking for. A missing side of herself and a man who brought it out.

Well, whatever she wanted, she wasn't going to find it by staying in the tub until she turned into a prune. Rachel pulled the stopper free to drain the bathwater, climbed out, and toweled herself off. She found the robe hanging where Chase had said it would be, belted it around her midsection, and headed downstairs.

She found him in the kitchen, holding a spatula. He gave her a warm smile and used the spatula to wave her to a seat at the bar that divided the kitchen from the rest of the living area. "Sit. It's almost ready."

He'd cooked for her while she took a bath? No wonder she felt as though she were falling for him. How was she supposed to keep her head when he did things like that? Rachel slid into a seat, and a minute later Chase put an omelet with toast in front of her. He set an identical plate next to her and then poured two glasses of orange juice before joining her.

"Eat," he said. "You burned a lot of calories up there. Time to refuel."

"Thank you." Rachel picked up her fork and cut into the omelet. "You didn't have to do this."

"Yes, I did. It's all part of my master plan." He leaned over and kissed the sensitive hollow just below her ear.

Plan to do what? Drive her insane? Make her hopelessly lost in the fantasy? Since she couldn't fathom Chase, Rachel focused on something concrete she could sink her teeth into and ate her omelet.

While they shared the impromptu meal, Chase kept up a steady campaign of little touches. Smoothing her hair back over her shoulder. Brushing his arm against hers. Small points of contact that made her feel very aware of his presence and very much the focus of his attention.

When they finished, Chase stacked the dishes in the sink and then came around to stand behind her. He drew the robe to the side just a little, baring the curve of her shoulder, which he covered with a series of kisses that sent shivers down her spine and made butterflies dance in her belly.

"Come lie by the fire with me, Rachel."

She stood with him and let him take her hand to lead her over to the fireplace. He grabbed a couple of pillows off the couch and dropped them on the carpeted floor, then sat on the floor and drew her down with him. Chase nudged her to lie back with her head on one of the pillows and stretched out beside her, propped up on one arm, another pillow tucked under him. He carried her hand to his mouth and kissed it in a series of soft, lingering brushes of his lips that sent heat curling through her and made her feel cherished.

Rachel looked up into his eyes and found herself caught
by his intent gaze. His lips quirked in a faint smile as he lowered her hand to rest on his chest. "You look surprised."

"You kissed my hand," she blurted out in response.

"Your hand is very kissable." Chase loosened the top of her robe a little more and began a lazy exploration of the curves and hollows of her shoulders and collarbone. "Every inch of you is delectable."

"You use words like that, and then you say things like—" Rachel broke off, finding herself unable to repeat some of the things he'd said upstairs now that the heat of the moment was past.

"I have a broad vocabulary." Chase dipped his head to hers and kissed the curve of her cheek, then the hollows of her throat. "Pretty Rachel. So beautiful here in the firelight. Will you let me see more of you?"

Rachel untied the robe with fingers that felt thick and fumbling and then pulled it open.

"Look at you." Chase admired her with his eyes, and Rachel felt herself blushing again as he took his time looking over her naked form. He let one hand trail from her throat down the center of her torso, pressing lightly into her navel, coming to rest when his fingers brushed the soft thatch of hair that covered her pubic bone. He toyed with her pubic curls for a moment, stroking and petting, making no attempt to touch her more directly. "You're a natural blonde, I see."

Rachel felt herself blush darker red. "Yes."

"Close your eyes, Rachel." His voice was a soft, seductive whisper. She let her lids shutter her eyes and found herself even more aware of his touch, as if that sense were heightened by the loss of vision.

His mouth and hands moved over her in a mind-numbing series of kisses and caresses. He worked around the obvious spots, neglecting her breasts and mons in favor of exploring her rib cage, her belly, her arms, her thighs. Rachel felt herself sinking into a dreamy haze of sensation and emotion. He was so tender, so gentle, paying homage to her body as if he found her worth worshipping with lips and fingers.

"My pretty captive." He kissed the lower curve of her breast, and Rachel sighed in pleasure. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

She waited, drifting in lassitude, hearing his footfalls moving up and back down the stairs. Maybe he'd gone to get another colorful condom. She felt herself heating at the thought of him preparing to slide into her again.

When Chase returned, he sat at her feet and lifted them into his lap. She felt something cool touch her skin, and then he worked what must be lotion into her feet with his thumbs and fingers, kneading and pressing and stroking her from ankle to toes in a massage that drew little moans of enjoyment from her.

"That feels unbelievably good," she said, sighing.

"It's supposed to." Chase worked his leisurely way up her calves as he spoke. "Did you know that feet contain the pressure points that can stimulate every part of your body?"

"The science of seduction." Rachel felt herself smiling as he stroked down to her heels again. "I love sex with a smart man."

"This isn't about sex." Chase finished with her feet and placed them back on the carpet, then ran his hands up her legs to slide between her thighs and pull them open. His mouth
explored the sensitive insides of her thighs until Rachel was quivering and ready to beg him to kiss her between her legs.

"What is it, then?" she managed to ask.

"You can't tell?" Chase stretched out beside her again, leaving her equal parts relaxed and frustrated, and stripped off his sweater. He pulled her into his arms, and she felt the rough fabric of his jeans rasping against her bare hips and legs, the snap of his fly cool against her belly, and the heated expanse of his chest against her breasts. "I'm making love to you, Rachel."

"Oh," Rachel said.

"You sound surprised." Chase sounded amused. He stroked one hand down the line of her spine and cupped her bottom, pressing her more tightly against him.

"Confused." She kissed his chest because the spicy, masculine scent of him was filling her nostrils and intoxicating her, and because she needed to.

"Did you think what just happened between us was meaningless sex, Rachel?" His hand tightened on her butt, digging into the soft flesh with his fingers just a little.

"I don't know. And that wasn't
just
anything up there," she mumbled against his skin. "It was more and better than I've ever had before. If that's meaningless sex, my relationships have been truly pathetic and I can't imagine what meaningful is like."

"Since you don't seem to know what a goddess you are in bed, I have to conclude your relationships have been pathetic. Or at the very least you've been badly mismatched.
And sex should always mean something." Chase moved one hand down between them to unsnap his jeans and draw down the zipper. "Touch me."

Gladly
. Rachel slid her hand into his open pants and grinned at what she found. "I never would have expected you to go commando."

"I didn't want another layer of fabric between my cock and you." He kissed the top of her head as Rachel wrapped her hand around the base of his penis, enjoying the warmth and smoothness of that part of him.

She moved her hand up and down in a leisurely stroking rhythm, loving the way he thickened in her grip and the way his breath hissed when she stroked a sensitive point on his shaft.

"I like your hand on my cock," Chase said. "I want to touch you, too."

"Please." Rachel lifted one leg and hooked it over his hip, opening herself to him.

He cupped her sex in one hand, the other still holding her ass from behind, and Rachel sighed at the sensation of being touched in both places at once. His palm pressed into the swollen flesh of her vulva, rubbing in a slow circle.

"So wet. So sexy." He stroked one finger along her nether lips, opening her before sliding it inside. It was a gentle entry, coaxing and seducing. Such a contrast to the way he'd stormed her gates with his hands after she'd hidden under the blankets from him. He worked his way in and out in several slow, careful thrusts and then let his finger travel up to circle her clit before rubbing directly across it. The contact made her gasp and squirm.