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“Is that right? And, what do you need right now?”
Demi caressed his face and nibbled the corners of his lips. “You now.”
He crushed his lips to her mouth, sending her pulse into overdrive. His ferocious kiss gave her dirty thoughts. The thick, bulging erection inside his shorts was stabbing her inner thigh, making her even hornier.
Demi wanted to end her nine-month sexual drought, but she didn’t want to do something she’d regret in the morning, and having sex with Chase on the yacht was a bad idea. Not just because it was their first date, but because she had a sneaking suspicion Captain Teo was spying on them with the cameras in the command center, and Demi didn’t want the silver-haired Spaniard to see her naked.
“That has to be a Guinness World Record for the longest kiss,” she whispered against his mouth, her voice a breathless pant. “Let’s do it again.”
“With pleasure.”
His lips were warm, soft against hers, and addictive. He ravished her mouth, praised her curves and beauty. Her confidence had taken a hit when her ex dumped her, but making out with Chase bolstered it completely. The hunky app developer was the perfect candidate for a one-night stand. Hooked from the first kiss, her body responded eagerly to his touch and she liked feeling his hands palming and squeezing her ass. She wanted to put her breasts inside his mouth, could almost feel his tongue against her nipples, but resisted the needs of her flesh. Despite all her bravado on social media about sex, she’d never had a one-night stand and had balked when Warner had suggested having a threesome to “spice things up in the bedroom.” That should have been a red flag, she thought, inwardly scolding herself for not dumping him sooner.
Her thoughts scattered and goose bumps rippled across her skin. Demi moaned, couldn’t stop. The kiss intensified. She’d gotten pretty hot and heavy with guys before, but never like this; his kiss took her breath away, made her light-headed and weak, and if she’d been standing, she would have fainted at his feet. Cheers and whistles pierced the air. Opening her eyes, Demi saw people zoom by on Jet Skis, waving and shouting in foreign languages. Sailboats floated by, and Demi tensed. Having sex with Chase on the yacht sounded exciting in theory, but she didn’t want drunken strangers watching them, or worse, recording them with their cell phones. Her body was throbbing with need but she took a deep breath and steeled herself against his touch. Deciding she didn’t want an audience, Demi slid off of his lap and adjusted her jumpsuit.
“Wait. What’s wrong?” he asked, touching her forearm. “I thought we were having fun.”
“I am...we are, but I can’t do this. It’s too risky.”
His eyes searched her face. “Talk to me, Demi. I don’t understand.”
“Someone could record us having sex and post it online for kicks,” she explained. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want my ass all over the internet.”
“You’re right. I never thought about that.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Smirking, Demi lowered her gaze from his face to his lap and cocked an eyebrow. “You were thinking with your other head.”
“It’s all good. We’ll go to my suite,” Chase said, pressing soft kisses against her neck.
“As if! Earlier, you mentioned that you’re sharing a suite with Jonas, and if we go there he’ll probably ask to join in. I don’t do threesomes.”
His entire body shook when he laughed and Demi knew she’d hit the nail on the head. Jonas had the words “bad boy” written on his forehead in neon flashing lights and Demi knew she had to be careful around him. She’d dated guys like Jonas before and regretted it every time. Even though they were both high-energy types who loved to socialize and party, Demi would rather hang out with Chase. His chivalrous, gentlemanly ways appealed to her. Hearing his voice, she abandoned her thoughts and met his gaze.
“What do you propose?” Chase asked with a broad smile. “Where do we go from here?”
“My suite, of course.” Leaning forward, Demi pressed her mouth against the curve of his ear and whispered, “Next stop, paradise.”
Chapter 6
The lanky valet with the floppy, brown hair opened the passenger door of the Ferrari, offering his hand to Demi and speaking to her in French. Marching around the hood of the car, Chase, overheard the valet say, “Slide me your number,” and furrowed his brow. His first thought was to push the valet away from her, but since he didn’t want Demi to think he was a hothead, he governed his temper. From the moment they’d left the hotel that morning, men had been flirting with her. The island was crawling with billionaires, professional athletes, celebrities and dignitaries, and Chase couldn’t turn around without someone slipping Demi their business card. He didn’t blame them; she was an energetic spirit, and people were helplessly drawn to her—including him.
“Thanks, kid.” Chase pressed a tip into his palm and steered him toward the Ferrari.
“M-m-my pleasure,” he stammered, adjusting his crooked bow tie.
Facing her, Chase entwined his fingers with Demi’s and winked. “Ready for a nightcap?”
“I was born ready. Suite 1208 here we come!”
The lobby was bright, filled with attractive guests and boisterous conversation. Gold fixtures hung on the walls, glass sculptures beautified the tables, the marble floors gleamed and sparkled, and designer furniture gave the space a chic vibe. Demi snapped photographs with her iPhone, and Chase wore a wry smile. He’d never seen one person take so many pictures, and teased her about being a paparazzo. “I wonder if they make a patch for what you have,” he joked.
“I can’t help it. I’m star-struck, so I have to capture every moment with my cell.” Demi gestured to the beach deck with a nod of her head. “Look! Yeezy’s here with his kids!”
Chase glanced around the outdoor lounge. Glowing with soft lights, the space was a tr
anquil escape crawling with A-list stars. An Emmy winner downed cocktails at the full-service bar, a renowned movie director flirted with a buxom waitress and a Japanese boy band posed for pictures with some female fans.
“Do you want to grab a bite to eat in the lounge or order room service? It doesn’t matter to me...” Chase lost his voice. Spotting a familiar face, he trailed off. His heart raced, threatened to explode inside his chest. What the hell? That can’t be her. Juliet’s in New York, not socializing in the lounge with the cast of Marriage Bootcamp.
