Love Is In the Air Volume 1

by Susan Stoker

  “Hopelessly, which is the reason why the Luv Bytes app doesn’t allow users to meet until week four.”

  “And perhaps the reason why their identities and names are concealed until they meet?” I probed, beyond fascinated with his parents’ story.

  He nodded, fingers stroking the scruff dotting his chin. “I figured if my parents—who’ve been married for over thirty years—could fall in love that way, perhaps others could too.”

  Memories of my chats with Citydevelop86 curved a smile on my face. Had I fallen in love with him? The constant flutter in my heart told me yes.

  “Why isn’t this information included on the website? People will eat this up. Join Luv Bytes in a snap.”

  He rocked back in his chair, pensive gaze holding mine. “My marketing team is just about to launch a campaign to revamp the app. They plan to add all of that on the site as part of their launch.”

  There was a calm to his presence, a familiarity in his tone that put me at ease, made me forget how much I wanted to punch him in the gut the last time we spoke face to face.

  I plucked my phone off my lap to pull up the list of questions, my mind off track. “Final question,” I said, my voice low. “Why did it take you so long to become a member? Did you doubt the app’s efficacy?”

  “I never doubted the app’s capabilities—that very question is why I finally decided to join. Members were wondering if it works, why hadn’t the single creator used it.” He raked his fingers through his dark hair, blew out a long breath. “But when the app was created three years ago, I had a girlfriend. Then, when she passed away, I decided that the five-hundred-dollar fee members pay to join the app goes straight to a charity I’d launched in her name, and I stayed single for quite some time to, you know, grieve.”

  My body went limp as a pang of reality sliced through my gut.

  Could Jameson Wright, the hot-as-sin man sitting only an arm’s length away, the man I vowed to hate for all eternity, be Citydevelop86? Was he my Luv Bytes match who made my heart quiver, made my body ping with desire during our daily chats, the one I had phone sex with, the guy I was supposed to meet in person for the first time, give my V-card to the very next day?

  The room began to spin, my head woozy as every ounce of blood drained from my face.

  “Are you okay, Chloe?” he asked, his voice tentative, sweet—the same way Citydevelop86’s sounded over the phone. Fuck, if it is him, does he recognize my voice too?

  “Um, I’m fine,” I squeaked. “Just a bit moved by your story.” I shoved my phone in my purse, then hauled it over my shoulder when I got to my feet. “Listen, I need to go. Thanks again for your time, Jameson.”

  I turned and high-footed my way to the door, panic sending my heartbeat to the moon.

  “Chloe”—he grabbed hold of my arm, his touch deploying a surge of heat down my spine as I spun back around to face him—“that day, a few months back, when you walked in here all bright-eyed and eager to interview me…” He trailed off as if waiting for my nod in acknowledgment. “It was the second anniversary of when my girlfriend had passed. I guess the fact you wanted to interview me for New York’s Most Wealthy and Eligible Bachelor on that particular day…well, the timing was just off. I meant to reschedule. But my mind was a mess, and when you walked in… You didn’t deserve to be treated the way I treated you. I’m so sorry.”

  Knees like jelly, I stood there, heart, words, feelings in my throat. He apologized. Closing the short distance between us, I rested my hand on his shoulder. “What’s the name of the charity that all membership fees go to?”

  His gaze bored down on mine—heady, dark, hypnotic. “Hope Floats, a charity for families who’ve lost someone to drunk drivers. I chose that name because her name was Hope, and I know she’s up there floating among angels.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes.

  Jameson Wright wasn’t the Park Avenue Prick I once hated; he was a beautiful man with a golden heart.

  He was Citydevelop86.

  9

  Chloe

  “Wait, he’s your match?” Sage spun around, a dress in hand, her jaw nearly grazing the carpeted floor inside Hot Shot’s fashion closet. “How can you be sure?”

  “Because when I went to his office yesterday, Jameson shared some personal details about his life identical to what Citydevelop86 shared.”

  “Holy shit,” Macy said as she snagged a pair of strappy heels from the shelf. “This is like You’ve Got Mail. Two enemies who fall in love via email—well, in your case via chat and voice-call.”

  “Told you, bitches.” Sage snapped her fingers. “I totally called it.”

  Apprehension ran through my veins as I sank into the velvet couch. “I can’t go tonight, can’t face him.”

  “Bullshit,” Sage hissed. “Not after what you’ve put us through over the last four weeks, all that sappy, falling-head-over-heels mush that made our ears bleed.” She pointed a clothes hanger at me. “You’re going. End. Of. Discussion.”

  Macy giggled, empathetic eyes on me. “For the record, my ears didn’t bleed. You know romance is my shit, especially something as juicy as enemies-to-lovers.”

  “Well, although Jameson may have fallen for Factcheckalphabetic96, the only thing he feels for Chloe York is hostility, regardless of yesterday’s apology.” I sniffled and swiped tears off my cheek. “If he hasn’t already figured out I’m Factcheckalphabetic96, as soon as I show my face tonight at his place, he'll likely ask me to leave.”

  Macy stepped over to where I sat, then kneeled and lifted my defeated chin until my eyes met hers. “We’ve read some of the messages you two exchanged, saw the sparkle in your eyes whenever you talked about your conversations. You have feelings for this guy and, believe me; he’s got feelings for you.” She brushed a lock of hair off my face. “Besides that, you need to finish the story. Readers will want to know how this ends, if Luv Bytes works.”

  Macy was right; if anything, I had a story to tell Hot Shot readers, even if my heart got broken in the process.

  After I steeled myself, Macy and Sage helped me pick out a dress and heels. Access to anything in the fashion closet—which was more like a fashion studio equipped with showers, a makeup/hair salon, endless racks of clothes, and shelves lined with purses and shoes—was one of the many perks at Hot Shot.

  I took a shower, and after I stepped out, Macy asked, “Did you truly tell Jameson you want him to do you tonight?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Because if you did, you’re gonna need a different dress.”

  A hot fury of embarrassment kissed my cheeks. “Well, yes, but that was way before I knew it was Jameson.”

  “OMG,” Sage chirped. “Is that why you asked me about Wax My Ass salon on Fifth Avenue the other day?” She didn’t give me time to say yes, time to say I went there based on her suggestion and had just about every part of my body waxed. “Macy’s right. You’ll need another dress.”

  Two hours ticked by before I stood in front of the mirror, heart pounding as I stared at my reflection. Even I appreciated the deep V-line that teased part of my cleavage on the short, black dress that fastened at the waist, the black stilettos, my ebony hair—straight and parted in the middle—that cascaded down to my waist.

  Sage and Macy stood behind me, their grins wide as the sky.

  “You look hot,” said Sage. “Like, really hot.”

  “Jameson is going to have you for dinner,” Macy added. “And dessert.”

  Hand over mouth, I giggled. “Well, I did tell him my fantasy was to lose my V-card in the kitchen.”

  Sage smacked my ass. “You naughty little nymph.”

  When my phone beeped, we all ran back over to the couch where I’d left it.

  “Is it him?” Macy asked, a burst of glee in her tone. “What’s it say?”

  Smiling, I read the message.

  Citydevelop86: Baby, I can’t wait to finally see you, hold you, and kiss you. Are you sure I can’t send a car to get you?

  I’d
already reserved one of Hot Shot’s car services—another perk.

  Me: It’s okay, I have a ride.

  Citydevelop86: Okay, when you get here, tell the doorman your screen name. He’ll escort you up. I live at 740 Park Avenue.

  “Ladies, he lives on Park Avenue. When I called him a Park Avenue Prick, I wrote that based on where his office was located, not where he resided.” Hope dwindled in my belly; no wonder Jameson Wright hated Chloe York. This was a bad idea.

  Sage bit her lip. “If I weren’t already happily married, I’d be so fucking jealous of you right now.”

  “Ditto,” said Macy. “Now, give us a hug and get your sexy ass over to Park Avenue.”

  When they ushered me out to the waiting Town Car, Sage made me pose for a picture. “Need to snap a shot before you rip up that V-card.”

  With an eye roll, I slid into the backseat of the car, apprehension holding my courage hostage.

  Rodney, one of Hot Shot’s regular drivers, turned to face me. “Where to, Ms. York?”

  Where to? God knows I wanted to say 740 Park Avenue, chase the idea of this all ending like one of those happily-ever-after romance books Macy read and reviewed. But Jameson Wright was not my Mr. Right. And he sure the hell wasn’t expecting Chloe York to be the woman Luv Bytes erroneously matched him with.

  Squeezing the bridge of my nose, I told Rodney where to take me. “Home.”

  10

  Jameson

  She was thirty minutes late, and I knew something went wrong.

  Me: Hey, baby. Are you on your way?

  Seconds turned to minutes that slithered by with no reply. I called down to my doorman, asked if she’d arrived. He told me no, but assured me he’d escort her up, let her know the door was unlocked and I’d be waiting for her in the kitchen where I’d begun to prep for dinner.

  Fuck. What the hell happened? Did the woman I’d spent every day for the last four weeks getting to know, inevitably fall for, have second thoughts? Decide at the last minute I was all wrong for her? Or worse, had she been in an accident? My stomach burned, my chest constricted at the thought. I should have insisted my driver pick her up, bring Chloe to me.

  Yes, I said Chloe.

  I’d figured out she was my match when we met in my office last night. Her sexy laugh tipped me off, followed by that night, on our call, the tone of her voice vividly matching how it sounded face to face. It all made sense. Chloe York had all the desired attributes I listed on Luv Bytes. A dark-haired beauty, she resembled my celebrity crush, was educated, petite, had long hair, full, heart-shaped lips, and ocean-blue eyes. This late in the dating game, I knew it was a longshot for me to come across someone who possessed all the qualities I wanted in a woman. But when I decided to toss my hat back in the dating ring, albeit via Luv Bytes, I wanted to go for gold, find a woman I’d like to spend the rest of my life with. To my surprise, all signs pointed to Chloe. We would have never hooked up if it wasn’t for Luv Bytes. I mean, the woman made my jaw tick, blood boil to the point my skin felt like it was on fire. Until the app allowed me time to get to know her.

  So I waited, held on to what I thought was fate handing me the woman of my dreams. I seasoned the two petite filet mignons we’d talked about grilling together, set the plate in the fridge, and after my hands were washed and dried, I picked up my phone, fingers eager to pull up the app, make that call to find out what the hell had gone wrong.

  I heard my apartment door close, then the click-clack of high heels against the marble floor. Heart racing, I set the phone down, made my way out the kitchen, crashing into her before I had a chance to round the corner.

  “Chloe,” I murmured as we stood body to body, my right hand on the small of her back. “You made it.”

  Her gaze climbed to meet mine, and through ragged breaths, she said, “You knew it was me?”

  I brought her closer to me, my hand cupping her face, her hand resting on the plane of my chest. “I figured it out last night and have been a fuckload of nerves ever since.” With the pad of my thumb, I wiped under her eye; it looked as though she’d been crying since her long lashes were dotted with tears. “What happened, baby?”

  She licked her lips. “Once you found out it was me, I thought for sure you’d change your mind.”

  Bracketing her waist, I backed her up against the wall, electricity swirling between us. “Chloe York, I’m over the fucking moon that it’s you.” I couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that tugged at my lips as my mouth hovered over hers. “And all I want to do now is show you.”

  11

  Chloe

  A kiss like no other, his lips met mine with a gentle, unrushed force that blazed down to my toes.

  Like rain, a moan trickled from me as I hungrily tasted his tongue, a delectable combo of mint and chocolate.

  I’m over the fucking moon that it’s you.

  I wanted to put that shit on a T-shirt and wear it as I strutted down Park Avenue with a big-ass grin on my face. To think I’d had second thoughts, had asked Rodney to take me home and had almost missed out on the opportunity to be here, wrapped in this man’s strong arms, his hard cock, hard muscular body pressed up against mine.

  Hands threading my hair, Jameson tugged lightly, his lips gaining purchase to the sensitive part of my neck. “You smell so good, taste so good.”

  The gruff, needy tone in his voice sent a direct message to my center, desire making my panties wet. I untied the side of my dress, and when his large hands found my exposed breasts, my breath hitched.

  After taking time to explore each nipple, he continued his southerly journey, eyes glistened with lust as he watched me all but fall apart. God, if this gorgeous man’s kisses alone had me panting with need, my body quake with every touch, what would happen when he gave me more?

  “We’re supposed to have dinner, a proper date before we do this.”

  “Consider this the appetizers,” I teased, hands curled through his hair as his mouth found my panties, and when he slid them off, a groan bubbled free.

  From a kneel to a stance, he inched back up and said, “Naughty girl,” then helped me out of my dress. It drifted to the floor and he took a step back, heated gaze crawling over me. “I want to look at you, take you in before I savor every last drop of you.” He bit down on his lip. “You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I watched him undress, my attention guzzling the ripped cords of his muscular, tight body, his thick cock as it sprang free of his silk briefs. All I could think as I stood there, sex burning with need was, Thank you, Luv Bytes.

  Before I knew it, he was back on his knees, head between my thighs, kissing, licking, sucking as I moaned his name and who the fuck knows what else. The man’s lips and tongue made a phenomenal team, a magic bullet that made me quiver, see stars, cry as I chased a climax like a hungry cougar chased its next meal.

  “You taste sweet, Chloe,” he purred. “So. Fucking. Sweet.”

  He continued to have me, devoured my wet heat until I surrendered to his assault, until his name dripped off my lips like honey. When his mouth found its way back up to mine, I was lost, sated, and speechless as he kissed me softly.

  He lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, our gazes locked as I geared up for what was to come.

  “Baby, I know you have this fantasy of where your first time should be”—he pressed his length against me—“but I need to have you in my bed where I can take my time and make love to you.”

  Yep, I scored a keeper.

  Hands cupping my ass, he carried me to his bedroom, our mouths locked in sensual kisses the whole way. Four weeks ago, I was done with dating, done with guys, done with the idea that Mr. Right—Wright—existed. And now I was naked, in Jameson Wright’s bed as he slowly settled between my legs, grinding into my heat still slick from the toe-curling things he did with his magical mouth.

  “Baby, you know we don’t have to do this tonight, right?” He lined my neck with delicate kisses. “We can stop right h
ere, eat dinner, cuddle until the sun rises, come back to this when you’re ready.”

  If I weren’t already crazy about this man, this was the moment that sealed the deal. He was hard, ready to take me, but still wanted to give me an out, put the brakes on what was about to happen until I was sure.

  Running my fingers down his back, I whispered in the shell of his ear, “I trust you. I’ve never been more ready.”

  He kissed me as I’d never been kissed before—promissory and eternal, like a vow that could never be broken.

  “I’ve fallen for you fast and hard, Chloe York.” He bit my lower lip, then tempered the burn with the swipe of his tongue. “I want you to know, this right here, between us, will only get better with time.”

  This beautiful, mind-blowing guy. Where had he been all my life? I too had fallen hard and fast for him—and I didn’t want to get up.

  The moonlight cascaded over his flawless face as his dark eyes bored into mine.

  He hovered over me, examining me as though he wanted to memorize the contours of my face. “You’re beautiful, Chloe.”

  Full lips found mine, exploring until our tongues danced while he eased inside of me. Taking it slow, we rolled our hips into each other as he allowed my body to adjust to his girth before he slid deeper.

  As we found our rhythm, he buried himself inside me, my legs hugging his waist.

  “Fuck, baby,” he hummed. “You feel amazing, so tight, so…fucking…good.”

  My name slipped from his lips like a song while he slid in and out of me at a methodical pace, his cock teasing my sex until I begged him to go faster and harder.

  Driving his hand between us, he found my clit and massaged it as he thrust in and out. God, I didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want to give in to the sensation that was rocking my world. But it felt too good, too mind-altering to hold back.