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“You’re just too irresistible, Ivy. You’re libido juice.”
“Libido juice?” I laughed.
“I’m not sure where that came from. But hey, it’s a compliment,” he said with a big stupid grin.
I rolled my eyes. “Your dick’s impaling your brain again.”
“I’d prefer it to impale you,” he whispered. His scent wafted through me and made my skin ripple.
With those smiling bedroom eyes, Chase was my libido juice also.
He hugged me for another bewildering display of affection. “Careful,” I whispered. “People might start getting ideas.”
“Let me introduce you to my parents,” he said.
I unwound from his arms and took a deep breath. Are we really doing this?
A girl wearing one of those nude dresses I’d seen in my mother’s catalog came rushing over.
“There you are, Chase.” She was panting, as if she’d been literally running after him.
“Hey, Esme,” he said. He looked at me. “This is Ivy. Ivy, this is Esme.”
She looked me up and down, then grunted, “Hey.” Turning her attention to Chase, she asked, “So why didn’t you call the other night?”
He shifted from leg to leg. “Um… I’ve been kinda busy. We’ll catch up soon.”
“Oh… you always say that,” she whined. “That tux fits you well.” She licked her lips like she was about to devour him there on the spot.
I couldn’t totally blame her, though. Chase looked stunning, as usual, with that fitted white shirt that showed off his tan.
He clutched my hand, which I thought was a nice touch. “Just got to go and introduce Ivy to my parents.”
She regarded me for a moment. “So, you two are dating?”
He looked at me and squeezed my hand. “Yep.”
I just returned a coy smile. The whole situation had me confused. We’d only just gotten back together, and suddenly we were a couple?
My heart seemed happy. And my body, well that was always happy rubbing shoulders with the man who could make me come just by opening his sexy mouth. But my brain—well, that rolled around like an out-of-control car.
“Excuse us,” he said.
And off we headed to a room filled with older guests. In the background, a string quartet played smooth jazz. Glittering chandeliers, marble floors, and priceless art graced that luxurious room, as one would expect from a billionaire’s Fifth Avenue home.
Just as we were about to enter, I paused and turned to Chase, gritting my teeth.
“I’m not sure if I’m ready for this,” I said.
He frowned. “Am I moving too fast?”
“Maybe.” I bit my lip.
He opened his hands. “I thought it was something you wanted.”
“It is…” I puffed out a breath. After the past couple of tense days at home with Mitch hanging around like day-old sandalwood, I wasn’t myself. “Can you give me a moment?”
He shrugged. “Sure. Whatever you need. And hey, listen, don’t worry about the parents. We can do that some other time.”
