The Agreement (An Indecent Proposal)

by J. C. Reed

  I had to get a grip. If I didn’t soon, I’d have to find a way to get away from him before I fell too hard.

  Another chuckle, then a loud laugh, and my jealousy flared up again.

  I straightened my dress and opened the door with a forced smile on my lips.

  “Hi.” My gaze scanned their faces for clues in a desperate attempt to figure out what was going on.

  Chase ambled over and placed a possessive arm around my waist. “We were talking about you.”

  Oh, God.

  “Were you?” I rewarded him with a bright, easygoing smile. If I kept this up I figured I might just fool not only them but also myself.

  “Jude was telling me stories about how you got rid of some of her dates over the years. Seems like you’re a natural at clearing the perimeter.”

  Double oh, God.

  Why did I sound like a complete loser with no love life? Granted, it wasn’t far from the truth, but did she have to tell Chase?

  “Like the one time that guy kept calling and you claimed I was in hospital,” Jude said, oblivious to my mortified state of mind. “He wouldn’t stop stalking, so you had to tell him you once escaped from a mental hospital. He got so freaked out, I never saw him again. Hilarious.”

  She fell into another fit of laughter, and Chase chuckled, his grip around my waist tightening. My humiliation was increasing by the second. I had to divert everyone’s attention from me, and fast, before Jude started to show him snapshots of us on her cell phone and Chase realized he had made a big mistake by marrying me.

  There was only one way to divert Jude’s attention to less mortifying territory.

  “Hilarious.” I faked a laugh. “Didn’t you say something about drinks?” I wriggled out of Chase’s arms and grabbed my purse from the coffee table. “So where’s the party at?”

  Chapter 20

  The two margaritas combined with the fast, pounding music of the club and steady stream of New Yorkers had made my head more than a little fuzzy. At some point my vision had blurred and all voices seemed to carry a slight drawl, like they were shouting through a long tunnel and the sound came out all distorted.

  Closing my eyes for a moment, I took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, wondering why I wasn’t in my extravagant suite, tucked into bed, watching soap operas on the oversized television set. Then I remembered the main two reasons, one being Jude’s inevitable tendency to recall the most embarrassing details of our lives. And the second being—

  Chase.

  Oh, God. Chase.

  For the last hours he’d kept finding the most ridiculous reasons to touch me. Like when he had claimed to need to make a phone call outside the club and his lips accidentally brushed my earlobe when he leaned into me to communicate his need to make said phone call.

  I figured excusing myself was out of the question, because he’d probably follow me to ask how I was doing. Then he’d pretend to want to give me a goodnight kiss. I’d inhale his manly aftershave and before I knew it I might just have a few things to regret the following morning.

  I had to stall as long as I could, and if that involved downing a few margaritas in the process then so be it.

  “Another one?” Jude pointed at my empty glass, grinning.

  I nodded hesitantly and she hurried over to the bar area to get our order, then returned with two glasses and left again to hit the dance floor. Chase hadn’t returned from his important phone call, so I grabbed my glass out of sheer boredom and took a sip, then another, and before I realized it, it was empty again.

  My head began to spin faster, and not in a good way. I groaned and scrambled out of my chair, realizing my legs weren’t faring much better.

  Dammit.

  What was it with me and my inability to party like most people my age?

  Was there some secret about drinking that no one had revealed to me, or did I inherit some gene that made me respond to the slightest hint of alcohol?

  I took a few steps, but the room started to spin.

  “Need help?”

  Before I knew it Chase’s arm was around my waist again and I found myself pressed hard against his chest. My heart—the fool that it was—skipped a few beats, and an unnatural warmness crept up between my legs.

  Oh my God, I was really, embarrassingly drunk.

  “I don’t need help.” I pushed him away, but it might only have happened in my mind, because I could feel his lips nestling against my neck.

  Hot, sexy breath.

  “I don’t doubt that, but it would be irresponsible of me if I left you like this,” Chase said.

  “Jude can help me to my room.”

  “She already left.”

  What?

  “Come on, Laurie. I’ll get you into bed before you pass out,” Chase said against my ear, and coincidently his lips found my earlobe again, setting my nerve endings on fire.

  Bed.

  I liked that word a lot.

  A strong jolt rattled my core, and a pull built inside, urging me to still it. Usually I would have done so myself, taking care of my needs. But this time my body longed for someone else’s touch.

  No, not someone’s touch.

  Chase’s.

  I realized it had done so ever since I met him.

  The thought of being so weak for him made me cringe inwardly.

  I had thought that by numbing my feelings with alcohol, I’d escape my obsession with him, but apparently my desire for him wasn’t going to play along.

  I craved him, unable to stifle the sudden wish of getting a whole lot closer to him than before.

  As if sensing my naughty thoughts, Chase’s hands wrapped around me. “It’s getting late.”

  “I can’t leave yet,” I protested, only my voice sounded way more clear in my mind than when it left my mouth. As though to prove my point, my hand wrapped around Jude’s glass. Chase stopped it in midair.

  “You’ve had enough, Laurie.” Chase’s voice was low but determined.

  He was right, of course, but in a brief moment of sudden lucidness my need to protest against a man telling me what to do won the war against my better judgment.

  “You’re not stopping me, sir.” I giggled and lifted the glass to my lips to take a gulp. The sickeningly sweet liquid traveled down my throat and left a repulsive aftertaste in my mouth.

  I wasn’t a fan of alcohol, but more so I wasn’t a fan of dominating men.

  I had had my fair share with Clint.

  “That’s it. You’re my wife, and I say you’re going home before you blame me for the mother of hangovers tomorrow morning.” Chase snapped the glass out of my hand and put it on the table. His grip released my waist and tightened around my upper arm as he guided me out of the bar. It was a bad move, and somewhere inside my mind countless alarm bells went off all at once, urging me to call Jude.

  But I didn’t dare, because, in my drunken state, everything became a blur and I realized I needed a bed more than I needed to demonstrate my independence.

  “Fine.” I trudged in front of him, relishing the touch of his hand on my body as we stepped into a taxi. Within half an hour, we were back at the hotel, his hand guiding me through the huge revolving doors, past the lobby, to the second bank of elevators.

  So close he smelled amazing, like sun, earth and rain—all intermingled in one heady fragrance. Did he taste as good as he smelled?

  “I guess you’ll have to find that out yourself,” he said, and pressed a button.

  “What?” I asked, confused.

  “If I taste as good.” He grinned.

  I stared at him, shell-shocked.

  Holy shit.

  Did I really say that out loud?

  His smile vanished as he eyed me, worried. “That was a joke, Laurie. I know you don’t mean what you say.”

  “But what if I do?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

  Stunned silence.

  What the fuck was wrong with me?

  I should never have drunk so mu
ch.

  “You want me?” he asked at last.

  “Yes.” I nodded with more passion than I wanted.

  “Laurie.” He sighed. “I told you I’ll help you out, but I don’t want you to feel obliged to repay me that way just because we signed the papers.”

  “No, I know that, and I still want you,” I whispered. “I want you to be my first.”

  Oh my God, shoot me!

  I should never have told myself to stay away from him, because now I really wanted him, my body urging me to do the opposite. It was proof that my mind had no control over my desires. Chase had become a thrill; the forbidden fruit I couldn’t taste but couldn’t resist.

  Cocking his head to the side, he frowned. “You’re drunk. We all say things we don’t mean when we’re drunk.”

  “Obviously not so drunk as to not know who you are.”

  He laughed briefly. “It’s a relief you recognize your husband.” He grew quiet again as his hand moved to his pocket. “I like you, and I’ll admit I really want you, too, but there’s no way in hell I’m taking advantage of you in this state.”

  “Right.” I faked a careless shrug, suddenly feeling silly. “It was just a stupid idea.”

  “Yeah, it was,” he agreed, sounding doubtful. “It would have been a mistake.”

  “A big mistake,” I agreed.

  Turning away, I watched the digits above the elevator climbing steadily upward. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Upward they went, lighting up whenever they passed a floor. At last they stopped at thirty.

  Thirty.

  I had been supposed to take the interview on the thirtieth floor in the LiveInvent building. The elevator stopped at the twenty-ninth floor.

  The word echoed at the back of my mind. A layer of sweat covered my back, and my heart raced. The incident had taken place more than three months ago, when I watched an entire floor collapse. Three months haunted by memories of being stuck in a lift with a stranger. Three months of guilt that I had done nothing to save him. Three months of being reminded that I almost died.

  Was he dead or alive?

  That question constantly frequented my thoughts. My heart lurched again, and slowly the spinning sensation started.

  Breathe in, breathe out.

  “Are you okay?” Chase’s voice sounded like it came through a tunnel.

  I nodded unconvincingly.

  The digits climbed down again. The bell chimed when the elevator doors opened, but I didn’t move.

  One wrong step—that was all it took.

  The whole interview had been a mistake.

  I never should have gone, because if it weren’t for me, if I hadn’t been inside, the stranger would have been rescued instead of me.

  “You don’t look okay. Do you want to take the stairs?” Chase said.

  I turned to him, feeling faint. “I’m fine.”

  My voice was shaking.

  His arms engulfed me, and he started to rub my back. Just like the stranger had done in the elevator.

  “You’re hyperventilating, Laurie.”

  Oh my God. Was it starting again?

  “Breathe, Laurie. You need to breathe.”

  Even his voice sounded like Mystery Guy. I closed my eyes, overcome by faintness as the memories started rolling before my eyes. It was the stupid alcohol wreaking havoc on my body and mind, opening my barriers, letting the memories I had tried to lock away flood back in.

  “You sound like him,” I whispered.

  “Like who?”

  He was so much like him, and yet I couldn’t tell Chase without sounding crazy.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t.” And then I started to run.

  Chapter 21

  Chase found me outside the revolving doors, my arms crossed over my chest as I took long, deep, calming breaths.

  Gently, he turned me to him. “I’m sorry. I should never have asked. It was not my business and—”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I should never have drunk so much. Alcohol messes with my head.” I took in the concern etched into his features, wondering whether I should share with him the events of that fateful day. “When I saw the digits, I freaked out. It reminded me too much of…” I trailed off, my guilt consuming me again.

  “Do you want to talk it?”

  “No.” I shook my head again. “No, I can’t.” I looked at him again in the hope he’d forgive me. In the hope one day I’d forgive myself. “Can you we please forget what just happened? It’s stupid, and I’m ruining our evening.”

  He took a long breath, his arms dropping to the side in what I assumed was disappointment. “Sure.”

  For a few seconds we stood there until Chase broke the awkward silence. “See them?” He pointed to a couple stepping out of a limousine. A woman in her thirties, dressed in a beautiful bridal gown, was snapping at her newlywed husband, who could barely stand on his feet.

  Faint words carried over. “Why didn’t you marry her, then? I leave you for one second, one frigging second, and you’re already all over the fucking bridesmaid.”

  “That could have been us.” Chase smiled at me. “My point is things could be much worse. Being afraid of an elevator or of darkness is human. We all have our own fears and demons to deal with, but I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

  “I’m not afraid of elevators,” I said matter-of-factly. I didn’t know what came over me, but I grabbed his hand and began to pull him behind me, as though to prove a point. “Come on. We don’t have all night.”

  The elevator doors opened.

  Chase followed me inside willingly. “You sure you want to—”

  I nodded, feeling way too bold.

  As soon as the doors of the elevator closed us in, I pressed myself against Chase’s body and nuzzled my mouth against his neck to place a kiss on his soft skin.

  He didn’t resist.

  The stubble on his chin grazed my cheek as his mouth found mine, and our tongues met in a sensual tangle. His lips were soft and tender, demanding without being aggressive, his tongue playing with mine.

  His palm moved down the front of my dress, grazed my breasts, and settled on the small of my back with possessive pressure.

  He wanted me—I had figured that one out a while ago, but now I could feel it in the growing tightness in his pants. His warm breath caressed my face. His hands stroked my back.

  I clasped my hands at the back of his neck and pulled him closer. His hard length brushed my body, demanding my immediate attention. My legs began to tremble, and I moaned against his open mouth, unsure whether to continue or pull back. Luckily, the elevator doors opened with a soft whir and Chase peeled himself from me, his face flushed with excitement as we stumbled out into the vestibule. He didn’t glance at me while retrieving his entry card from his pocket and swiping it.

  “We’re here,” I said, stating the obvious. My tone reflected the slight disappointment inside my mind.

  Ignoring my needless remark, Chase let us in and closed the door behind us. I almost expected him to press me against the wall and resume our groping session, but his back remained turned on me, his shoulders surprisingly tense, as though, like me, he was fighting to make the right decision.

  “It’s fine.” I pressed my fingertips against his shoulder blade and trailed them down his back slowly. Even through his shirt his muscles felt hard and strong. I bit my lip as I pondered my options. Maybe it was the alcohol or my earlier freak-out incident, but something had ignited inside me and I was eager to find out where it would lead me. Obviously, I wasn’t going to go all the way—maybe just a few more kisses to get him out of my system. And then I’d go to bed satisfied.

  “I’m not taking advantage of a woman in your state,” Chase said hoarsely without looking at me.

  “And what state is that?”

  “You’re drunk.” He turned to face me, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were a grim blue, like a stormy afternoon.

  “I’m not
that drunk,” I whispered.

  Chase shook his head and grabbed my hand, leading me into my bedroom. “Good night, Laurie.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m calling it an early night.”

  He slammed the door. I stared at the empty space he had just occupied. I should have been thankful for his self-control, but for some inexplicable reason I found myself disappointed at his change of tone. For the first time in my life I had actually invited a man to do more than just talk and he was blowing me off.

  “Damn you,” I muttered, and texted Jude that I was going to bed, then stormed into the bathroom and took a long shower that cleared some of the fog inside my mind. It was almost midnight when I’d finished with my usual evening routine, and I switched off the lights and went to bed, unable to sleep for a long time knowing that Chase was sleeping next door.

  Damn the hot guy.

  Chapter 22

  I awoke to the faint sound of footsteps outside my door. The room was bathed in darkness. I sat up straight and listened for more sounds. My head felt surprisingly alert as I threw a glance at my phone on the bedside table. It was shortly before four a.m. Everything seemed quiet again, and yet I couldn’t shake off the eerie feeling that someone was outside my door. I could almost feel their presence. It had to be Chase, because no one else had access to our suite, and yet my heartbeat spiked and a faint sense of fear threatened to throttle me.

  Carefully I got up and tiptoed to the door, then pressed my ear against it. When nothing stirred, I opened the door and peered into the darkness. Apart from the faint silhouettes of the furniture, the corridor was empty.

  “Chase?” I whispered, even though I didn’t expect him to answer. I waited for a moment or two before realizing my sleepiness had deserted me, and my heartbeat hadn’t noticeably slowed down. Whatever I heard, it wasn’t Chase, or he would have replied. Straining my ears, I listened for more sounds, but they never came.

  In a bold moment of confidence, I headed for Chase’s room and let myself in, then stopped in the doorway, realizing what I had just done. Whatever had woken me had scared me a little, but not to the extent that it might serve as an excuse to shack up with Chase for the night. I turned around to leave again but Chase’s voice carried over from the oversized bed.