Catching Chase

by Michelle Windsor

  “It’s fine.” He glances in my direction, his mouth in a tight line, looking at me as if he wants some kind of confirmation. I nod, spots still hindering my vision as I try and blink them away.

  “We have a private table ready for you.” The hostess starts to walk, still speaking. “We put you upstairs where it will be much quieter.”

  “You okay?” Jasper tilts his head closer to mine as we follow where we’re led. “I should have warned you. It happens sometimes at places like this.”

  I nod again, still tongue-tied as my brain digests what just happened, specifically the part about Poppy. Who the hell is Poppy? I want to ask him, but figure I really don’t have any right to at this point in our, whatever you want to label this, relationship? We’re climbing up a set of stairs now, so I focus on those instead, not wanting to trip in my heels. I stay silent as we make our way down a long hall, finally turning into a small room, when we reach the end of it. There are only four tables in the quaint space, but only one of them is set, which has me heaving a sigh of relief I wasn’t even aware I was holding.

  “You’ll have all the privacy you need in here Mr. Chase.” The hostess comes to a stop, her arm sweeping in an arc across the room. “We’ll not seat anyone else in here.” She points to the table that’s been set. “Please, get comfortable.” She turns to leave, still talking. “Roger, your server, will be with you in just a moment.”

  He guides me to the finely set table, the warmth of his body moving away from me as he releases his hold to pull a chair out for me. I lower myself as gracefully as I can, crossing my ankles under the table when he scoots the seat under my bottom. He slides into the chair next to me, rather than the one across from me, his hand covering mine as he sits. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  My eyes drift up to his, the corners crinkled as he assesses me with concern. “I promise, I’m fine.” I smile, trying to reassure him with more than just words. “Is it like that a lot?”

  “It depends.” He shrugs. “Sometimes we let the press know when I’m going to be somewhere because we’re looking for the publicity. And in those instances, I don’t mind cause I’m expecting it.” He frowns then, his fingers sliding through mine to grip them more tightly. “But when it’s in a situation like this, it sucks. Not going to lie.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “I was only blind for about thirty seconds after we got here.”

  “Now you know why we always wear sunglasses.” He lets out a short laugh. “It’s not because we’re trying to look cool.”

  “Who’s Poppy?” I blurt out, my curiosity getting the better of me, even though I know I might not like the answer. I feel my cheeks heat as I shift in my chair, sliding my hand out from his to fold it in my lap. I lift my eyes up to his, the soft buttery color seeming to darken as I wait for his reply.

  “Poppy McAdams.” He’s quiet for a second, then continues when he realizes hearing her name means nothing to me. “She’s someone I dated.”

  “But not anymore?”

  “No, not anymore.” He leans toward me, clearing his throat like he’s about to say more, but then shifts back suddenly, his focus transferring over my shoulder.

  “Good evening, sir.” A sharp dressed waiter appears on my left, inclining his head in my direction. “Miss.”

  “Hello.” Jasper and I respond in unison. I think we’re both happy with the interruption.

  “I’m Roger, and will be at your service this evening.” He lays two hand written menus on our place settings, then speaks again. “Would you like a wine menu, or perhaps a cocktail instead?”

  Jasper turns his attention to me, a wide smile breaking across his face. “A bottle of Veuve?”

  I can’t help the tilt of my lips as I try, unsuccessfully, to hide my smile. “Maybe just a glass tonight.”

  There’s a spark in his eye, as his smile grows almost devilish before he addresses the waiter. “We’ll have a bottle of Veuve Cliquot if you have it?”

  “We do sir.” Roger nods. “Two glasses, or something else for you?”

  “Just one.” He continues. “I’ll have an ice water with lemon please.”

  “Sparkling or still?”

  Jesus, it’s water. Can we move on here? I want to hear more about Poppy, damn it. I tap my foot under the table, my nervous energy needing an escape. I stop when I notice Jasper steal a look in the direction of the noise I’m making.

  “Still is fine.” The warmth of Jasper’s hand covers my leg just above my knee a second later as he responds to Roger. His thumb starts to stroke the inside of my thigh in a slow sweeping motion, melting away the tension I was feeling only a second ago. He fingers splay around my thigh, squeezing gently, as he turns back to me. “Do you trust me?”

  I lock my gaze with his and answer without hesitation. “Yes.” This is what a single touch from him does to me, and I know in this moment that I’m so screwed. I’m actually falling for this guy. This guy I met less than thirty-six hours ago. He stares back at me, his hold on me relaxing again as his thumb resumes its torturous slide back and forth against my skin as he centers his attention back to Roger.

  “We’ll start with the tomato capri salad, and then we’ll both have the boneless rib eye. I’ll take mine rare, and the lady will take hers?” He turns to look at me so I can fill in the blank.

  “Medium” I state, a bit flustered at how turned on I am over his total control of the situation.

  He doesn’t miss a beat, continuing as soon as I respond. “We’ll do the mashed potatoes, grilled asparagus, and the creamed spinach.” He turns to me, his brow raised. “Anything else you’d like?”

  “Hollandaise sauce?” I suggest, his head whipping back to Roger.

  “And hollandaise sauce.” He completes our order.

  “Very good.” Roger nods, clapping his little black folder shut. “I’ll get your drinks and be back.”

  Before Roger is even three feet away, I pounce. “So, you were explaining about Poppy?”

  His thumb on my knee stills as a long breath blows from between lips parted in a frown. “As I said, we dated, and now we’re not.”

  “Does she know that?” I can’t seem to rein in my jealousy, even though I have absolutely no right to question him. I was the one, just twenty minutes ago in the car, telling him that there were no expectations.

  “She knows.” His hand leaves my leg and comes to rest on the table in a loose fist. He flexes it a moment before finally speaking. “She’s what we refer to in the business as a fame whore. I thought she liked me for me, but came to realize she just liked the attention I brought her.” He looks up to meet me in the eye. “She means nothing to me.”

  “It seems like maybe she did?” I continue to question softly. Not because I’m feeling threatened anymore, but now out of concern for him.

  “It’s not an easy business to be in if you want to meet someone.” He unclenches his fist, moving his hand to lay over mine. “I promise you, I’m fine.”

  “Okay.” I nod, accepting his explanation, and because I want to move on from this topic. “I’m sorry if I pushed.”

  “You don’t have to apologize.” He squeezes my hand. “You were just bombarded with flashbulbs and questions. It’s okay to ask me what you need to know. I’d rather have you ask me and get the straight answer, instead of googling me to get the twisted truth the media prints.”

  It seems to be perfect timing on Roger’s part as he enters the room, bottle of champagne in hand, another server shadowing him carrying a crystal bucket filled with ice in one hand and a tray with one glass of iced water in the other. They make a bigger production out of opening the bottle then is required in my opinion, but it’s a nice way for us to end the topic of Poppy.

  When I finally have a glass of bubbly in hand, I raise it to Jasper in a toast. “To chance encounters.”

  I’m rewarded with a wide grin as he lifts his glass to clink against mine lightly. “The very best kind.”


  That seems to set a new stage for the rest of our evening, which unfolds like a scene from a romance movie, not my life. We talk for two hours straight, while we devour a dinner that may have tasted better than anything I’ve ever eaten before in my life. After that we share a chocolate soufflé, and finally finish the meal with coffees. We both agree we need the caffeine to keep us from falling into a food coma. I’m full and content, and feel like I’ve known him for months, not just the one full day it’s really been. I’ve read and of course seen in movies how people will describe how when you meet ‘the one’ you’ll know because the connection is so easy and natural and unlike anything else you’ve yet to experience. I stare at him, dumbfounded, as we wait in the rear entrance of the restaurant for the car to come around. It occurs to me that I have already fallen for this guy. In one damn day. Holy shit. I’m so totally screwed.

  Chapter Eight

  She shivers under my arm, and I look down, belatedly realizing she must be cold. How can she not be? She’s wearing a sleeveless dress in temperatures that have dropped down to the low sixties. I step away, releasing her so that I can shrug my jacket off. “Here, put this on.” Her brows are furrowed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she stares at me blankly. “You’ve got to be freezing.” I continue, confused by her expression.

  “Oh!” She blurts, the trance she’s in breaking as she slides her arms into my jacket, hugging it around her body. “Yes, thank you.” She bends her head down to the material of the jacket then lifts it, a smile lighting up her face. “It smells like you.”

  I chuckle. “That’s a good thing?”

  She bobs her head once, her smile growing wider. “A very good thing.” Her smile is infectious, my lips curving up to mirror hers, a wave of pure adoration crashing over me like the tide, pulling me further into the ocean of feelings I’m treading in. She gets pleasure from the simplest of things, like just the scent of my coat, so very different from what I experienced with other women in my past.

  “You’re amazing.” I cup her face in my hands, unable to resist a second longer. I graze my lips over hers, nipping at them teasingly, savoring the taste of her before I cover her mouth entirely. Her hands snake around my neck, her fingers curling around my nape to pull me closer, our bodies melting together as our kiss deepens. I hear the car approach and reluctantly ease my mouth away from hers.

  Her eyes, hooded and dark, find mine. “What are you doing to me?” She murmurs against my mouth as she leans in to steal one more kiss before stepping away to walk to the car.

  I stand for less than a second before snapping to attention. I take wide steps so I can reach the car before her, pulling the door open, my eyes trailing up the length of her bare legs as she curls them under her after sitting. In less than six seconds I’m sitting beside her on the other side of the car, sliding an arm around her waist to yank her up against me. “You’re too far away.” I explain, in case it isn’t obvious.

  “I wasn’t complaining.” Her hand drops on my thigh, just inches from my cock, the close proximity causing it to stir in reaction. I shift, trying to adjust my hips so that her hand will slide a little further down my leg, but instead, she drags it higher. She stops when she bumps against the growing bulge between my legs, turning her body into mine, her other hand planting on my chest as one bare knee slides partially over my leg. My eyes dart to the front of the vehicle when her fingers start to inch their way over my cock, growing harder under her touch.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper on a groan as her grip tightens. “Not that I’m complaining.”

  “It was so cold out there.” She practically purrs as her fingers rub the length of my cock, splaying wide as she applies pressure. “Do you mind if I snuggle up to you?” Her voice is flirty and full of innuendo.

  “You’re playing with fire.” I hiss under my breath, using my free hand to clamp over the one she has on my dick, locking it in place. “What about the driver?”

  “He thinks we’re cuddling after a romantic dinner.” One side of her mouth quirks up in a devilish smirk. “Or he thinks I’m back here giving you a hand job.” Her fingers clench under my grip, my cock jerking at the attention. “Either way, I’m probably never going to see him again, so I really don’t care.” She tilts her mouth toward mine, her knee climbing even further up my leg. “So, just kiss me already.”

  Who am I to argue with that logic? I surge forward, crushing my mouth to hers, transferring my hand to her bare knee. She sweeps her tongue against my lips, urging them open to tangle with my tongue, her hand resuming its torturous grind up and down my cock. It takes every ounce of will power I have not to buck my hips up into her greedy palm, my length throbbing under her touch. Instead, and because it’s only fair, I trace my fingers up her smooth skin until I feel the hem of her skirt. I slip my hand underneath, spreading it wide as I slide all the way up to her hip. I continue over the curve of her ass, growling into her mouth when all I find is a thin strip of material in the crack of her ass. She’s not commando tonight, but she may as well be.

  She whimpers into my mouth when I palm her ass to shove her pussy against my thigh, her hand lifting off my cock to rest beside the other on my chest. Her lips form a silent O when I push against her ass again, my fingers sliding down in between the seam. Heat and moisture seep through the material of my slacks as I hold her tightly against the muscle of my thigh and begin to bounce my leg under her. Her fingers clutch into tiny fists as she grips onto my sweater, her breath panting into my neck now. I tilt my head to whisper in her ear. “Are you warm yet my little spitfire?”

  “I’m going to come if you don’t stop.” She warns, her words hot on my skin as she murmurs against it.

  I still my leg, loosening my hold on her at the same time, sliding my hand out from under her skirt. “I’m only stopping because we’re back.” I crook a finger under her chin to lift her face to mine. “But believe me when I tell you we’re not done.” I slam my mouth over hers in a searing kiss, a promise of what’s to come, pulling back after just a few seconds. “Not even close.”

  “What are we waiting for?” She pushes off of me to sit up straight, pulling the hem of her skirt back into place. “Let’s go.” She reaches for the handle just as the door opens from the other side, a hotel valet holding it open. She steps from the car, turning to wait while I slide out behind her. I thank Henry, slip him a hundred for his discretion, then grab Megan’s hand as we walk into the hotel. I say a silent thank you when no one from the team is in the lobby, and stride purposely to the elevator, wanting to get to her room as quickly as possible.

  “What about your curfew?” She asks as we wait. “Will you get in trouble if you break it two nights in a row?”

  “First of all, no one knows I broke anything last night. Doug covered for me, so it’s all good.” The elevator arrives and we step inside, pressing the button for her floor. “And tonight, the coach thinks I’m staying with my family. They only live a short distance from here.”

  “Oh.” She nods, turning her body to face me, her eyes sweeping up to mine. “So, does that mean you can stay all night?”

  I slide my hands around her waist, then move lower to cup her ass, yanking her against me, as I nod. “All night.”

  “What about practice?” Her hands press flat against my chest as she angles her head to look up at me.

  “We have press all morning. No practice tomorrow. I don’t have to be there until nine.” I stare down into her eyes trying to figure out what’s going on in that head of hers, her sudden silence throwing a red flag. “Unless you don’t want me to stay.” The elevator dings at the arrival of her floor, and the doors slide open. I raise my brows, waiting for a response.

  “Come on.” She pushes away from my body, but grabs my hand possessively as she leaves the elevator and starts down the hallway. She stops in front of the door to her room, releasing my hand to retrieve the room key out of her purse. Before she can swipe it, I stop her, turning her attenti
on back to me.

  “What is it?” I’m confused because five minutes ago she was about to come on my damn leg. Now she seems like she’s not sure if she wants this.

  “It’s nothing.” She shakes her head, offering me a small smile. “I was just wondering about tomorrow.”

  “What about it?” I watch as she brings a finger to her mouth and starts chewing on the nail. I reach for her hand, pulling it away from her teeth. “Talk to me.”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow.” She shrugs. “I’m on a red-eye back to New York. I just-” She shrugs again. “I just hadn’t thought about what happens after tonight. Except, now you’ll be with me tomorrow. At least in the morning. So, now I’m wondering.”

  Relief floods through me as I realize it’s not about her wanting me to stay versus her possibly just wanting more. “Let’s worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.” I lean forward to peck my lips against hers. “I promise I won’t disappear on you tonight.”

  “Okay.” She breathes out, I think in relief. “Sorry.” She swipes the key over the sensor, pushing the door open. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”

  I push the door closed behind me, throwing the deadbolt, then grab her hand to turn her around. “You didn’t ruin anything.” I move my hands to the lapels of the jacket, pushing it back off her shoulders to slide it off. I step around her, moving further into the room, then drape it over the back of the chair in front of the desk. I smile when I notice the roses placed in the center of the desk. When I turn around, she’s already sitting on the bed, her legs crossed as she leans back on her elbows, her gaze roaming down the length of my body.

  “Take your sweater off.” My brows arch in surprise, but I comply, grabbing the hem with both hands to lift it over my head, tossing it on top of my jacket. “The t-shirt too.” She orders, making no excuses for what she wants. I peel that off next, adding it to the growing pile on the chair.