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Or she could invite a guy in, shut the door and peel off his dark, probably tailor-made suit.
“Fuck,” Chase growled, pushing his way down the hallway. He tried a couple of doors and found one locked, then stepped into a supply closet that reeked of bleach and…other things. The dressing room at the end of the hall was also locked, and a knock on the door yielded a terse response from a giant in purple lycra who was sporting about three coats of guyliner and possibly lipstick too. Not only did he not know Summer, he suggested Chase insert something up his “rectal cavity” that did not go there under normal circumstances.
Chase blew out a breath. Evidently Summer and her suit had disappeared. Maybe the time had come for him to do the same.
He strode out a side door into the parking lot and tipped back his head to gaze at the dark sky. Often there weren’t that many stars visible in the city, but tonight they seemed to be everywhere, twinkling madly. It was a warm night, the breeze more reminiscent of September than early December. People milled around the parking lot and he tucked his hands in his pockets and headed for his SUV, determined to ignore them.
Being alone didn’t mean he was lonely. When did that ever happen? He’d been in the center of an adoring crowd for years, and the only reason people hadn’t come up to him tonight was because of the dark knit cap and dark glasses he’d worn for most of the show. He hadn’t wanted to be recognized, so he wasn’t. Plain and simple.
His fans weren’t forgetting him. Not yet. And so what if they did? He’d told Summer she needed to find her own sense of acceptance inside herself, and he obviously did too. No better day to start than the present.
He clicked the fob to open his doors and registered the beep with dull awareness while his eyes narrowed in on a slim brunette hurrying to a car at the end of the lot. All the way back, by the chain link fence that surrounded the property.
As in the most unsafe place a female alone could park.
His frustration and concern propelled him forward until he crossed the lot without thought to what he’d do once he reached her. He wasn’t even one hundred percent sure it was Summer. Long-haired brunettes who walked fast weren’t exactly rare.
Ones that drove a vintage pink Cadillac? Fewer and farther between.
She stopped near the bumper and pivoted to face him, her hair flying back as she turned. Surprise and then acceptance flashed over her face in the faint gleam from the nearest streetlight.
She’d picked the most remote location possible. And judging from her expression, she guessed exactly how he felt about that fact.
“Don’t say it,” she began.
It made him smile, which was a damn near miracle considering one look at her had him harder than steel and practically willing to beg. He made himself leave some distance between them, though he ached to charge forward and haul her into his arms. “What?”
“You know what. Yes, I know I shouldn’t have parked way back here. But it was fine earlier, because Jax followed me from the diner before the show.” She glanced at the obviously empty spots next to her vehicle. “He left early.”
Diner dinners sounded awfully cozy. Jax, Cass and Summer—three spokes of a triangle. The rectangle they’d once been had broken off at one corner.
He was the odd man out. Alone. By choice or by vice, he didn’t care anymore. He didn’t want to be by himself tonight. He wanted to be with Summer, to feel her wrapped around him in every way a woman could surround a man. Her hair on his skin, her hands on his hips, her tight, slick body clasping him deep. Her mouth feeding him her breath until it became his too.
Chase took a step toward her, then another. She backed up, correctly reading the intention in his eyes. Instead of her reaction deterring him, he understood it was another level to their mating dance. He would pursue, she would retreat. He would catch, she would yield. And then they would both take—and give.
“He’s your bodyguard,” he said softly, his gaze centered squarely on her mouth. In the shadowy dark he saw her bite her lip, worrying it between her teeth.
She either shook her head or jerked her shoulders, he couldn’t be sure. Her feet kept moving backward and she clutched her purse to her chest like a shield. When she bumped into the fence, she glanced over her shoulder then glanced back at him again, all wary huge eyes and pale cheeks in the moonlight. Her breath slipped out as he came to a stop in front of her, almost close enough to touch.
“No, he’s not.”
Saying nothing, he waited.
She let out another long, stuttering breath. In the dark, every sound she made seemed amplified. “He’s only temporary. You’re…you’re the one I want.”
His heart gave a hard kick against his ribs as he erased the remaining distance between them and wrapped his hand around her chin. Tilting her head back, he lowered his face until their lips brushed. “Last time I made the move. Tonight I won’t. You asked me for what you wanted before. Tell me now. Leave no doubt in my mind.”
She trembled once before she controlled it. “I saw you with her.”
The statement didn’t compute. “With who?”
“The blonde yesterday, here. She was leaning on you and you took down my poster—” She bowed her head. “Don’t make me do it.”
His thumb nudged up her chin. “She’s my client.”
“Uh huh.”
“She is,” he insisted. “Her name is Anastasia Cordova and I’ll give you her phone number if you want. I’d rather you not compromise my already compromised ethics by calling her, but it’s your choice. All of this is.”
