AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Clubs don’t start jumping until midnight, so let’s eat before we go.”
“We?” she said, in a high-pitched voice. “Funny, but I don’t remember inviting you.”
“It must have slipped your mind. Don’t worry. I forgive you.”
“We can hang out for a while, but one wrong move and I’m showing you the door. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am. I wouldn’t dream of giving you any trouble.” For effect, he rubbed his shoulder and winced in pain. “I’ve seen your right hook, and it’s lethal.”
Her smile faded. “Chase, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have punched you. I thought you’d lied to me and I let my anger get the best of me.”
“No worries. You can make it up to me later.” Winking, he picked up the black menu book, opened it and perused the selections. “What do you want from room service?”
“I’d love a bowl of gazpacho and an extra-large order of croquettes. Thanks!”
“Coming right up.” Chase picked up the phone, pressed 1, and placed his order with the room service attendant. His gaze tracked Demi through the suite, watching her every move. She kicked off her studded heels and Chase hoped she was settling in for the night. He’d rather hang out in her suite than go to Pacha Ibiza and compete with other men for her attention.
Demi scooped the remote control off the coffee table and pointed it at the flat-screen TV. Finding an Angela Basset movie on one of the local channels, Demi cheered, sank onto the padded couch and crossed her feet at the ankles.
Chase dropped the phone in the cradle. “Room service will be here in an hour.”
“I hope I can make it until then. I’m starving.” Demi picked up her wine cooler and took a drink. “I was so busy getting dressed, I didn’t eat dinner, and now I’m so hungry my stomach sounds like a wolf howl
ing at the moon!”
Chuckling, he picked up her legs, sat at the other end of the sofa, and propped her small, dainty feet on his lap. “What are you watching?”
“Only the best movie ever made.”
Chase stared at the screen, watched for several seconds and groaned. “I hate this part. I understand why Bernie was mad at her husband, but why did she have to set his BMW on fire?”
“To teach his sorry, ungrateful ass a lesson,” she said, nodding to underscore her point. “You don’t mistreat the person who held you down when you had nothing. Bernie’s better than me. I would have set his office on fire, too!”
Watching the movie, they discussed the plot, the characters and their favorite songs on the award-winning soundtrack. Room service arrived, but they were so engrossed in the film they decided to eat in front of the TV. Chase couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun on a date, and listened to Demi with rapt attention. They were polar opposites, but it didn’t matter. He enjoyed her candor, her authenticity, and her jokes made him crack up.
Her iPhone lit up on the coffee table and she glanced down at the screen. “I can’t believe it’s already eleven o’clock,” she said, wiping her hands with her napkin. “I have to get going.”
Chase used one hand to caress her cheek and the other one to stroke her legs. Demi had a spark, that indescribable quality that made her unique, and he wanted her all to himself.
Bending down, Demi grabbed her stilettos and put them on. “Let’s go. Geneviève’s about to hit the stage and I don’t want to miss her performance. It’s going to be epic.”
“Or,” he whispered, against her mouth, “we can stay here and make love.”
Chapter 8
The walls closed in on Demi, pushing her even closer to Chase. The object of her affection. The man she’d been crushing on since the moment she’d first laid eyes on him. The fine, dashing New Yorker who made her pulse race. Inhaling sharply, Demi chided herself to breathe not lust, but her head was in the clouds and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. Could almost feel his lips against her skin, teasing her flesh.
“I’ve met a lot of women in my life, but you’re in a class all your own,” he confessed, drawing a finger along her shoulder. “And I’m enamored with you...”
Her heart thumped.
Chase complimented her, confessed what he wanted to do to her in the bedroom, and Demi gasped. Not because she was offended by his explicit comments but because she was shocked by how bold he was. His unflappable confidence was a turn-on and his smooth, panty-wetting speech made her long for his kiss. Chase was the greatest temptation she’d ever faced, impossible to resist. He smelled as if he’d bathed in patchouli—her favorite scent—and Demi wanted him. She’d never slept with someone on the first date and although she encouraged her social media followers to “live in the moment,” to “do what feels right” and to “throw caution to the wind,” she struggled to take her own advice.
“Normally, I don’t come on this strong, but I can’t help myself. I’m weak for you.”
Swallowing hard, she wiped her damp palms along the sides of her Dolce & Gabbana dress. Demi needed a moment to catch her breath, to decide what to do, and gave herself permission to consider his suggestion, even though she knew her family was counting on her. It was Geneviève’s day off, but Althea had arranged for her to perform at Pacha Ibiza at the last minute, and Demi had agreed to attend the show. But that was before Chase had arrived at her suite and apologized for his ex-girlfriend’s behavior. Demi believed him. Sensed he was telling the truth. Decided to trust her gut because it had never steered her wrong before. He’d gone to great lengths to make amends with her, and Demi liked his determination. She wondered if he was as tenacious in the bedroom. There’s only one way to find out, she thought, licking her lips. Let the games begin!
“I want you,” he growled, brushing his mouth against her ear. “Bad.”
