I’m there. I’m in every word, powerless and under his control, drifting and unable to focus.
His lips are mere inches from my own, my lower lip swollen and quivering, craving his touch once again, his warm breath beating against my skin. My mouth glides towards him, and I tilt my head up, our lips closer and closer, an inch apart, the distance closing.
He says something. His words trail over me like a soft blanket. “A night of pure pleasure.”
His fingers slide down my hair like raindrops, and my heart races.
“We let go of everything, for just one night. You and me. Together,” he says.
No. I can’t. This is wrong and stupid and wrong.
I need to stop this. If I don’t then my life is over. There’s so much danger and risk.
And why the hell does that make me want him more?
I can’t do this - I can’t have sex with my boss. I can’t screw a man who hates my family and believes I’m another person.
I can’t let him take my virginity.
But I want to. Holy shit, I want him so much it blinds me. There is nothing else, no reasons no excuses, only him and his body and mine and I need it so so much.
I crave that risk and that darkness and this powerful man who scares me to the deepest level of my soul.
My mind is spiralling out of control. I can’t make sense of anything. All I know is I want him.
I need him.
“I... I don’t... I can’t...” I whisper.
Chase’s face remains strong and stoic. A faint smile curls on his lips.
He cups my face with both hands and I’m lost.
“You must choose, my princess. The safety of what you know, or the reward of what could be.”
My god. His gaze stares deep into my soul, and he knows it all - my darkest secrets and fears and horrors that haunt my every waking moment. And the pure blinding desire in my heart.
I stare up at him and he lowers his mouth to mine, about to touch.
My mouth open and hot breath billowing out, I nod.
“That’s my girl.”
I close my eyes.
And he kisses me.
The smooth velvet of his lips is hot, pushing against my own. I taste his mouth and his tongue and he tastes mine, the rough stubble of his chin pressed against me and his strong arms wrapped around and pulling me into a sensual embrace.
A lightning bolt shoots through me and my body ignites into a sexual fire. His tongue is like silk, stroking the inside of my mouth.
Tension coils up in me, ready to explode, sparks of pure ecstasy and bliss rushing through my lips and into my head and my hair and down my heaving breasts and down to my belly and into the deepest most tender parts of my sex, nerve endings flickering and sparking and setting alight, as my toes curl and my body screams.
Chase pulls away and the world slowly fades back into view, the baritone gasp of his breath the only sound in the universe.
My own breath sits in my throat; I’m unable to breathe - too afraid to move or this perfect moment could end.
He strokes my cheek and I realise the truth: it has ended. But the experience - that kiss - is something I’ll never forget.
Because it’s my first.
And it was our first kiss. Me and Chase.
It felt so insane to think we’d reached this point when only a few hours ago I was weeping in his office and deathly afraid he’d find me. And now, we speed off to his penthouse to kiss and touch and make love.
And it’s because he wants me. The actual me. The real me, as he calls it. This man, this paragon of masculinity and power and success and dominance - he could have any woman in the world. And he wants me.
The real me. Not the scared timid bird ready to fly away at the first sight of danger. But a powerful, beautiful woman. One who could take the whole universe into her hand, if she wanted.
A woman who could chance everything on what might be.
A woman afraid of nothing, except spending another waking moment not living life.
In Chase’s arms, I’m not afraid anymore.
He pushes me against the leather seat and the heavy weight of his body presses against my own. His hands explore my skin and I throw my head back, exposing my neck for him.
His lips kiss down my throat in sensual hot bites, my skin prickling and begging for more.
“Chase,” I whisper, my words so faint like dust billowing in the wind. “I want you...”
“Mmmm... Melody.” His voice is muffled by my neck, and I tilt my head back for more.”
“I want you...” I continue, “...to be my first.”
He stops.
“Chase?”
His head rises and I see his shocked eyes.
“You’re a virgin?” he says.
I clear my throat and pull myself up on the seat.
He shakes his head and rubs his eyes.
“Chase? What’s the matter?”
He bites his lips and then presses an intercom button on the roof.
“Miller, change of plans. You’re going to River Park.”
River Park.
“What... why...” I say.
“That’s where you live, isn’t it?”
“It is, but... why?”
This is insane. What the hell is going on?
I’ve ruined this. I’ve actually ruined this.
“Chase, what I said - it’s a lie. I’m not a virgin, I’m not. I don’t know why I said it - please, just forget I said anything, please.”
“No,” he says, downtrodden. “It was the truth.” He sighs. “Of course it was,” he says almost to himself.
My cheeks burn. This can’t be happening. “So that’s it?” I say.
“That’s it.” His eyes are cold and dead.
The silence fills the limo like an unwelcome guest, and I come to realise the truth: I have ruined everything.
I glance out of the window at the streaks of headlights zooming past.
Chase doesn’t even look at me. He just stares ahead almost as if he’s possessed.
And I suddenly feel so very alone.
It’s ten minutes before we reach my neighbourhood, loud music and the shrill garbled yelling of homeless people drowning out any sound of traffic. It would be impossible to talk over such a din, that is, if Chase had ever said a word to me since my idiotic confession.
It dawns on me that he’ll never kiss again, and a pang bores into my gut.
I’d only just given myself over to that different woman - the real me. The strong take charge powerful one, only to have her executed at the gates.
There was only the other me now. The sad, lonely me. The one afraid of everything, and feeling an empty ache for the fleeting feelings I’ve lost.
No, I can’t go back to that.
You don’t just have an epiphany and then return to normal, job well done. The real me - the woman I want to be again - she wouldn’t stand for this shit. She’d sit up and speak and tell Chase-
“You’re an idiot.”
His head whirls to me in shock. “What did you say?”
“You’re an idiot. My “condition”. It’s totally a non-issue. And thanks for finally looking at me, by the way.”
“It’s not a non-issue. It’s a big issue.”
“But it’s not important to me.”
“It is to me.” The light from the street lamp hits his face in a white streak and illuminates his hard jawline. “What you want, what you need... it’s not something I can offer.”
“I just want you.”
“No, you think you do, but you want more. Friendship, marriage, love. You’ll want it all. They always do,” he says.
“I don’t. I want our one night, just like you said. Nothing more. Just you and me.”
“I will never love you.”
“Okay, maybe I don’t want you to love me,” I say defiantly.
“You say that, but deep down you know that’s not true.”
My gut clenches.
His words are cold, but I don’t believe them. I don’t love him - I’ve never loved anyone, not like that, not that truly madly deeply shit where the radio plays and suddenly all the song lyrics makes sense. Where you’d die for each other.
The limo glides to a stop. A moment later, the chauffeur opens the door and the cool night air rushes in, bathing me in a sobering cloud. Beyond, I see the rustic front door of my apartment building.
“But-,” I say.
“-We’re done, Melody. It’s over.”
Chase crosses his arms and returns his stare to the front of the limo.
“No,” I say.
“No? What do you mean no?”
“I’m not going to let things end like this. You think you can kiss me like that and then throw me away like a piece of garbage?”
“This is exactly what I mean - you want love.”
“I don’t want love,” I spit out. “I want sex. Hot steamy, limbs flailing sweat dripping wild animal sex.”
He looks me over with an element of surprise. And, is that intrigue I also see?
“I’m saving you from making the biggest mistake of your life,” says Chase. “One day, you’ll find someone worthy of being with you, someone able to give you everything you need.”
“I’m tired of waiting.”
A bitter wind howls past the open door, and an empty plastic bag rolls across the wet cement.
I can’t leave. Not now, not here. Everything I ever wanted and needed is in this limo. The perfect man to usher me into womanhood and teach me everything he knows. And then I’d be free to explore the world on my own, strong and powerful and alive.
I can’t go through those double doors and back to my old life. I can’t go upstairs and find Liz and Richard, together and happy, laughing and singing in each other’s arms, while I whittle away my life day by day, broken and alone in that darkness.
I’m not going back to that. I refuse to. I’d do anything to escape that fate.
“Melody,” says Chase. “Damn it. Leave. You must. I know what will happen if you stay. This is not your decision.”
I desperately try to hold back tears. My body trembles and I turn to him. “What’ll it be, Chase? The safety of what you know, or the reward of what could be?”
He’s taken aback, his eyes wide and full of shock.
I lean forward to speak to the driver. “The penthouse,” I say.
The driver’s eyes appear in the mirror and look back to Chase for consent.
Chase stares at the mirror for seemingly forever, his gaze locked and deep in thought. He turns and stares at me for a long moment.
Then nods to the driver and closes the door.
The engine growls and the car drifts away from the curb and on into the night.
I hear the soft click of a button and the privacy divider lifts higher until there’s a clunk.
We’re alone. Again. Together.
My heart races, but before I can think another thought, Chase grabs me and pulls me into his arms. He pushes me against the leather seat, and the last thing I see is his cruel and sensual mouth diving towards my own. I close my eyes, the feel of his hard powerful body pressed against me, ruthless and dominating.
Our lips scorch with a burning kiss, so hard and passionate that I give up instantly.
I give up everything.
CHAPTER FOUR
Melody
The limo door opens and Chase carries me in his powerful arms, across the moonlit street and through the double oak doors of his towering skyscraper home.
A dim table lamp in the foyer scatters the diffuse light, painting everything in washed out amber, almost as if reality itself was fading away and a dream was taking over.
But this isn’t a dream. No matter how tipsy and lightheaded I feel, it isn’t from the champagne and the lack of food, or the icy rain dripping through my hair. It’s Chase, and his wondrous touch.
The memories of our kiss burns me deep inside. How his tender lips met mine and we embraced in a moment of sheer passion, that lasted perhaps seconds or hours. All sense of time has left me; all I can be sure of is Chase.
I hear the faint click of a button and then the electronic swish of the elevator’s descent. But all I can see is Chase, the bottomless black of his eyes drugging me, making me yearn for nothing else but his face.
I feel a little drunker than I realise, now I think about it. But I don’t care - I’m free and happy and alive for the first time, basking in the heat of Chase’s chest as he sways left and right with every step.
The elevator rides passes me by completely, and the next thing I see is his fingers punching in the security code for his penthouse. He continues to sway as we venture through his home and I catch glimpses in the corner of my eye of the cavernous but minimalistic living room, a giant floor to ceiling window that stretches across the entire wall and on to a balcony with an unhampered view of the New York Bay.
We rise again and again, in strong vibrant steps, up and up.
I realise we’re climbing a twisting staircase that spirals up into the next floor and then we move through another hallway, so clean and immaculate and beautiful. I catch more glimpses, this time of a library with wall to wall bookshelves.
We reach the end of the hallway and he pushes the heavy door open with his shoulder. He carries me through and kicks the door closed behind him.
The flood of silver moonlight pours through the windows and illuminates an enormous four-poster bed.
He walks towards it and places me gently down on the silk bedspread like a sleeping princess, all the while, his eyes never leave my own, fixed on me and drugging me with his desire and want.
He removes his tie and his tuxedo jacket, throwing them to the floor. His feet kick off his shoes, and the entire time he pierces me with those dark eyes, his mind consumed with only one thought.
Me.
Chase sighs heavily and climbs on to the bed.
Before I know it, his hands are all over me, caressing my body and sending me into a state of electric shock. His lips kiss my own, and he takes me in a powerful embrace, the passion growing stronger and stronger as we taste each other’s mouths and tongues, hungry for one another. The hunger becomes unbearable. His mouth presses against mine, so full of heat and sex, wet with the scent of our bodies mingling in the air between us.
His hand cups my breast over the thin fabric of my dress and I lean my head back and gasp.
His lips caress my neck, his fingers tracing my body down from my chest and to my shaking waist. My breath is so heavy, his lips now kissing my neckline, the roughness of his stubble grazing against my heaving bosoms.
A hand grabs my head and tilts it up, and his lips are on my own again, his hand cradling the back of my head and pushing our faces together in deep intense passion. And I kiss him back, reckless and powerful and alive and not giving a shit about anything except him and me right now, together and free.
His kiss, oh god, his kiss. His fingers. My body feels like it’s rising off the bed with every touch, a haze of desire and longing clouding my mind.
His hand grabs my gown and rips the top down, the sheer force snapping the straps around the back, causing the dress to tumble down and expose my naked breasts.
The cool open air brushes my nipples and pebbles them into hard points, his fingers squeezing and kneading and massaging them with such calculated ferocity, his lips now trailing down my neckline, hot and heavy and wet, then up again and nibbling my chin and licking my throat.
I feel taken over, my sex buzzing and humming and begging for him. His touch is so intense, and it teases me like a coiled spring, tightening and tightening with no end in sight.
His enormous hands cover my breasts, his fingers playing with my nipples, and then wet, his tongue now circling the nub with pleasure, his hot steamy breath pounding against my tender skin.
I grip the silk bedspread with curled fists, holding my breath as he takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks.
&n
bsp; So gentle and smooth, but somehow rough and dominating, he suckles and twirls his tongue around my tight swollen nub, then moving to the other breast and sucking and twirling and breathing and tasting.
I gasp, my breath so tiny and desperate, the feel of his hot tongue filling me with a devouring all encompassing fire.
His fingers caress my bare thigh, lightly stroking the skin. He takes the hem of my dress in his hands and pulls it up. Before I know it, his tight muscular body is pressing against my own, pushing me into the soft mattress with the force of a warrior. He’s so hard that it makes me ache, wanting him so much that I can’t think of anything else. I need that beautiful naked body pressed against me.
I feel his fingers trickle over my calf and under my knee, and my skin prickles. His mouth still suckling my breast, I feel that hand on my thigh again, stroking the bare skin on the outer side and slowly moving across to my inner thigh, upwards and upwards, the heat between my legs pulsing and throbbing over his fingers.
My hands grip the mattress again, harder and fuller, the fabric leaking through my fingers.
Chase lifts his head up and stares up at me, his cheeks flushed and red. He kneels upright and unbuttons his shirt. One by one the buttons fly away and the gold cufflinks unlink and fall to the floor. He tears his shirt off and chucks it behind him, his gaze fixed on me the entire time.
And for the first time, I see his half naked body. My mind was filled with images through the night of what sort of powerful Adonis he would be, what paragon of masculinity and dominance. And now I realise how severely I underestimated him.
His bare chest ripples in the white moonlight, his hard pecs and broad warrior shoulders carved out of marble by a gifted artist. There’s no fat on him, not one inch, just glorious compact muscles that throb with strength and control, all the way down his taunt chest to his rippling six-pack.
He looks like a god. A powerful, all destroying god that would sweep up the world in one motion and do with it whatever he pleased.
Perfect Harmony Page 7
