His eyes searched hers. “Why is this so important to you?”
“I’m not ready to say goodbye. Are you?”
“God no.”
His vehemence surprised her.
“Good. I’ll make the arrangements. We could use a distraction. It’ll be fun.”
Chase smiled for the first time in days. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to New York City. The local time is three p.m.” Ava glanced out the airplane window as the flight attendant rattled off the usual spiel. She was anxious to get out of the plane and into the city.
Chase leaned across the armrest. “You all right?”
Ava faced him and frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I dunno. I expect you’ll be different now that the city mouse is back in her element.”
“What about you?” she countered. “Will you become the country mouse? Afraid of taxis, sirens and the crush of people?”
“I ain’t skeered of nothin’.” Chase pressed his lips to hers. She’d expected a quick peck, but he cranked the kiss to hot and teasing as his thumb discreetly rubbed the stiff point of her nipple.
She pulled back. “Chase—”
“I missed touching you the last few days,” he murmured.
“I missed it too.” Ava rested her forehead to his. “Hold that thought, okay?”
“Okay.” He gave her a lingering smooch. “Bear in mind that just because we’re on your turf don’t mean you get to call the shots.”
That forceful statement delivered in his masculine growl sent a curl of heat through her. Yes, she’d missed this sexual part of Chase because it was such an important part of who he was. “I wouldn’t dream of horning in on your territory.”
They exited the plane and wended through the crowd at baggage claim. After Chase hefted their luggage, Ava led him to the area where private transportation companies waited. A man in a black sports coat stepped in front of another guy wearing a gray pinstriped suit. “Miss Cooper?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Gino. I hope your flight was enjoyable.”
The young man attempted to take the duffel bags from Chase, earning a dark scowl as Chase increased his grip on the luggage. “I’ve got it.”
“That’s fine, sir. The car is this way, please.”
The heat and stench assaulted her as they left the cool comfort of the terminal. God. The noise didn’t bother her, but somehow she’d forgotten how rank the city smelled in the summer months—garbage, urine, grease and exhaust fumes.
Gino popped the trunk on a black limo at the curb.
Chase stopped by the rear passenger door and looked at her as Gino snuck in and grabbed the bags. “A limo, Ava? Really?”
“It’s a compact size, not a stretch limo, and it was the same price as a car service. I thought you’d be happy I comparison shopped.”
“I am. But I’m surprised you used that name to book it. What happened to us laying low?”
She bristled. “That name happens to be my name, and it’s on the credit card I used. What’s the big deal?”
“Forget it.” He stepped aside to open the car door for her, only to scowl again when Gino beat him to the punch.
Ava crawled in first and slid across the bench seat. Naturally, Chase didn’t allow the distance and scooped her up, settling her on his lap. “Chase.”
“What? I changed my mind. I’m scared in the big city.”
She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t move.
Gino took the wheel and said, “Cooper Square Hotel?”
“Yep. And Gino, buddy, I’d appreciate it if you’d engage the privacy screen and take the long way,” Chase drawled.
He nodded and the black glass separated them.
“Not your first time in a limo, is it, McKay?”
“Nope. But it’ll be my first time fucking in one.” Chase placed a kiss on the center of her throat. “I’m dyin’ for you, my Ava Rose.”
The man could be so sweet.
“Undo your bra. I want them sugar tits in my mouth.”
And…not so sweet. Not that she was complaining. Chase had already untied the bow at the neckline of her sundress and slipped the loosened material down her biceps. She twisted the front closure of her bra and his rough-skinned hands were there, knocking hers away.
“Arch back.” As soon as she complied, Chase’s hot mouth surrounded her left nipple. He suckled strongly. Purposefully.
That familiar, delicious heat spread. Ava gave herself over to it. Over to him. Reveling in the act of surrender.
Chase knew exactly how to eek out each sigh and moan. He expertly toyed with her mouth, his kisses so maddeningly arousing, so ripe and sensual, so unbearably erotic, she wanted to beg him to stop. Or to never stop.
He whispered gruffly, “Hang tight,” below her ear and rolled her, dropping to his knees on the floor of the limo.
Breathing hard, dizzy, wet and achy, Ava rested her back against the plush center cushion. She watched as Chase shimmied her sundress up around her waist. Then he tugged her so far forward her butt cheeks were barely on the edge of the seat. “I’m falling.”
“I’ve got ya.” He stretched her left arm to the safety strap on the left side of the car roof, curling her fingers around the leather as he dragged kisses from the cup of her shoulder, across the sensitive bend in her elbow, to her fingertips. And back, to repeat the process on the right side.
Circling his thick fingers around each ankle, he pushed her legs wide, almost in straddle splits and hooked the edges of her low heels into the plastic lip that housed the door handle.
Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he took a condom out of his wallet and held the package in his teeth as he yanked his briefs and jeans to his knees.
“Want me to put that on?” she asked, her focus on his fully erect cock.
He lifted a brow and smiled briefly before his teeth tore open the square package. “You’re stretched a little thin.” Once he had the condom on, he worked himself inside her, his mouth busy on her throat.
Ava’s head fell back and she groaned. So full. So hot. So good, every time.
Then Chase started to move. Endlessly long, deliciously slow, completely thorough strokes of his hot, hard flesh into hers. His cock buried so deeply inside her she felt his balls resting against her ass.
For being in the back of a limo, in New York City, during rush hour, there was no rushing Chase. He made love to her with his usual passion, but this tryst also served as a reminder that he’d have her, his way, no matter where, no matter when.
The rhythm of Chase’s strokes increased and he slipped his hand between their bodies to manipulate her clit.
“Yes. Like that. You know just how… God…don’t stop.”
“I love watching you come,” he growled, his eyes on her face as he pumped into her. “You’re mine, Ava. No man has ever known you like this. No man but me will ever know this side of you.”
No declaration of love, just possession, which maybe was the closest Chase came to admitting love. She smashed her mouth to his, matching the kiss to the brutal intensity of the way he fucked her.
He bottomed out with every thrust. One hand gripping her ass, the other rubbing her clit as he mastered her body with his. As Chase came undone.
Those teasing tingles tightened, coalesced into full power. The orgasm swamped her. She felt the pulses in her clit, in her pussy muscles spasming around Chase’s cock, in her nipples. Even her lips throbbed as Chase turned the kiss into a sensual tease.
His body might’ve stopped moving, but his hands didn’t. His mouth didn’t. He nuzzled and caressed every section of her exposed skin. This was another thing she loved about him—his reluctance to release her after such an explosive interlude. He uncurled her fingers from the straps, sweetly kissing each knuckle. He unhooked her shoes, massaging her calves, her quads and her inner thighs. He ditched the condom and straightened her clothes before he bothe
red with his own. Then he gathered her in his arms and held her, like she was precious. Fragile. Like she was his.
And Ava let him.
The intercom buzzed twice, then Gino’s voice came on. “We’re about four blocks from the Cooper Square Hotel.”
They remained wrapped together until the limo stopped. The rear door opened and Ava watched Chase’s face as he caught his first glimpse of her family’s hotel.
Yeah, he wore the holy-crap expression.
The hotel, situated in the Bowery section of Manhattan was quite impressive, with its seemingly twisted tower, a modern architectural work of art, twenty-one stories tall, comprised of glass on all sides.
The bags were whisked from the car trunk directly inside. Ava waited while Chase shook Gino’s hand and slipped him a folded bill.
Chase placed his hand in the small of Ava’s back. “Ah yeah, Hollywood, you were definitely slumming with the places we’ve been staying.”
The front door, at least fifteen feet tall and nine feet wide, swung open and she had her personal welcoming committee ushering her inside the postmodern, oriental-themed lobby.
“Miss Cooper! We’re so happy to have you back in New York.”
“Thank you, Jason.” She gestured to Chase. “Jason, this is my companion.” Ava purposely allowed Chase to introduce himself, not knowing if he intended to keep up his Bill Chase persona or not. Either way, it was his decision.
He thrust out his hand. “Good to meet you, Jason. Chase McKay.”
Ava relaxed slightly. “Jason is the evening manager. The man who can make anything happen.”
Jason, a slight man in his early thirties, smiled at Ava after shaking Chase’s hand. “The pleasure is mine. We have you set up in the family suite on the fourteenth floor. Chef Delacorte has asked if you have any specifics requests for in-room dining?”
“I’d love a sampler of his latest appetizers, since I’m not sure what our dinner plans are for later this evening.”
“Consider it done. Delivery time?”
Ava glanced at Chase. “Are you hungry?”
He shrugged. “I could eat.”
“As soon as possible would be great.”
“I’ll see to it. Also, the bar is stocked with your usual requests.” Jason handed Ava a slip of paper. “Here’s your access code. The staff is here to fulfill any of your needs, so don’t hesitate to ask.”
“I won’t. Thank you.” She slipped her hand through Chase’s and led him around the corner to the elevators. Although Chase seemed to study everything, the funky patterns, the light fixtures, the restaurant behind the artfully placed glass partition, he didn’t say a word until after they’d entered the corner suite.
The entire space was floor-to-ceiling windows. The enormous bedroom and bathroom were enclosed off to the left. A sitting area faced the city side.
And still Chase said nothing as he stared out the window at the bustling city below.
Ava kicked off her shoes and moved in behind him, circling her arms around his waist, setting her chin on his shoulder. “You okay?”
“Fuck no. This place is… I’ve never stayed anywhere this upscale, Ava.”
Better not tell him this wasn’t the crown jewel in the Cooper Hotel chain. “Like you told me when we first started traveling together. It’s just a room with a bed.”
“Sometimes I’m a fuckin’ idiot.” He wiggled away from her, pressing his forearm against the curved glass. “The staff fawned over you. Like you’re royalty or something.”
“How is it any different than sponsors fawning over you?”
He scowled over his shoulder. “Big difference. Trust me.”
At a loss of how to deal with his reaction to their economic disparity, she retreated to the opposite sitting area. Less than fifteen minutes ago they were as physically close as possible. Chase had looked her in the eye and assured her he knew her. Were those just babbled words uttered in a moment of lust?
She’d shared every facet of herself with him. Ava never lied about her family background. Could he only deal with her when she was in his world? A transplanted city girl who had to rely on him for everything?
It didn’t matter if he didn’t want her to be this Ava. Truth was, this was the real her.
Chase had known her family had money.
To think he’d been afraid a Hollywood actress was out of his league? That was a drop in the bucket compared to seeing her as the billion-dollar baby.
He needed a drink. He correctly guessed which cabinet held the minibar and opened it, snagging the first beer he found. Fucking Heineken. He drank it anyway. Damn thing probably cost twenty bucks.
Two knocks sounded and Ava went to the door. “Come in. That looks amazing. Chef Delacorte truly outdid himself.”
Chase wandered over to see what type of feast management laid out for a member of the royal Cooper family.
A small Asian man draped a pristine white tablecloth over the table and arranged the first rectangular platter. “Pink sweet potato soufflé topped with tapenade.”
Chase waited for the man to serve up more than two spoonfuls.
But he revealed the next plate with a flourish. “Arugula salad with roasted beets, feta and toasted pumpkin seeds.”
Beets? The greens looked like wilted dandelion leaves. That whole dish resembled something his mom served when she was cleaning out the fridge.
The Asian man said, “Polenta with shallot dill sauce.”
A rubbery yellow disk with what looked like a splotch of ranch dressing and a skinny piece of ditch weed sticking from the center.
What the hell kind of appetizers had Ava ordered? Where were the nachos? Chicken wings? Fried pickles, okra and cauliflower?
“Pulled pork sandwich with ginger mango slaw.”
Now, he could eat pork. But calling that one bite wonder a sandwich was stretching it. Chase counted five more covered dishes. Which probably equaled another five ounces of food.
“Bruschetta with heirloom tomatoes and anise-flavored basil.”
He snorted softly. Chopped tomatoes on toast.
Ava glanced at him sharply and he gave her an innocent look.
“Spicy yellow fin tuna rolls with lime-pickled onions. And salmon on a bed of black diamond coconut rice.”
Two sushi dishes. Fucking awesome.
The waiter lifted the last two lids. “Crimini mushroom ravioli with kale pesto. Baked brie with caramelized fresh fig.”
Maybe he’d find a bag of peanuts in the minibar.
Ava gushed, “This looks and smells absolutely amazing. Give my sincerest thanks to Chef Delacorte and tell him I’ll pop into the kitchen while I’m here to thank him personally.”
“Ah. But he sent you one more token, Miss Cooper.” From beneath the cart he presented a small plate and lifted the silver dome. “Your favorite dessert. Lavender-infused crème brulee’ with sugared pansy petals.”
“Oh. I can’t believe he remembered.”
I can’t believe you don’t see this for what it is: a total suck up.
Chase felt somewhat guilty for that thought. How could he fault people for liking Ava so much when he felt the same?
After she let the server out of the room, she picked up a vivid red rectangular plate and scrutinized the food. “There’s so much to choose from.”
She couldn’t be serious.
He hoped the beer would drown out how loud his stomach growled.
“Grab a plate and dig in,” Ava said.
“Nah. You go ahead.”
Ava faced him. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothin’.” He sipped his beer. “That kinda stuff is not really my thing.”
“So we have all this delicious food and none of it sounds good to you?”
“First, dime-sized helpings don’t qualify as all this food. Second, if I don’t know what’s in something, I don’t eat it. Period.”
She lifted her chin with a look of determination. “If I fix you a plate, will
you at least try some?”
“If you feed me,” he said silkily. “While you’re sitting on my lap. Nekkid.”
“You are such a brat sometimes.”
Chase stiffened and turned away.
A minute or so of silence hung in the air.
Then Ava’s hand lovingly followed the contour of his spine. “Sorry. Me pushing food on you is bratty. Will you try some of these dishes if I hand-feed you? Could be sexy and fun. Very upscale 9 ½ Weeks.”
She’d finally convinced him to watch that flick on her computer—not that they’d made it to the end. “Fine. But no sushi.”
“Why not?”
“Because where I’m from? We call raw fish bait, not food.”
Ava rolled her eyes and bit into a tuna roll. “Mmm. More for me. Sit.” She began loading a plate.
After she straddled his lap, he curled his hands around her ass cheeks, murmuring, “For balance,” as he kissed her strong, stubborn jawline.
“Here. This is your speed.” She pinched the tiny pork sandwich between her forefinger and thumb, popping it in his mouth.
He chewed. Swallowed. “Not bad. Coulda been a whole lot bigger. Something that small just pisses my stomach off.”
“I know you like cheese.” She loaded her fork with a gooey white substance and then dragged it through some kind of sauce. She held the fork close to his lips. “Open.”
He obliged, and as soon as he finished chewing, he swooped in for a kiss. “I liked that one. But my favorite part of this is you feeding me.”
Her beautiful turquoise eyes glittered with triumph and she waggled the fork at him.
“What’s that? Christ. Oh hell no. Food is not supposed to be pink.”
“It’s sweet potato soufflé.”
Chase hoped his gag reflex wouldn’t kick in. He closed his mouth around the fork tines, letting the glob sit on his tongue. Swallowing, he withheld a shiver of disgust. “Next.”
Chasin' Eight: Rough Riders, Book 12 Page 27
