by J. Lynn
Bridget didn’t remember most of the walk. All she knew was that he’d led her around the bar and down a narrow hallway she hadn’t noticed before. She was surprised that he didn’t take her up to one of the shady alcoves she’d seen in the front of the bar, which she was grateful for. God only knew the kind of action those places saw on a nightly basis. They ended up in a parking garage. She’d expected him to be driving something like a Porsche or Benz, but he had a new Jeep Liberty.
Displaying basic manners, he held the door open for her. Something she couldn’t remember a guy doing recently. Just as she went to slide into the seat, he growled low in his throat and turned her around, pulled her into his chest, and devoured her with his mouth and lips and oh sweet baby Jesus his clever tongue. As quickly as it began though, he was stepping away and guiding her into the car. If she’d been having second thoughts, that kiss would have totally changed her mind.
Once inside, she texted Shell and said she was leaving, keeping the fact she wasn’t alone to herself. Shell responded as expected. Her friend was already in the process of leaving with the guy she’d been talking to.
On the way to his house, they talked but the conversation was strained with anticipation. Her heart was flipping out, and he kept one hand on her knee, his thumb continuously smoothing a circle along the fleshy part.
A few times, logic crept into her thoughts. She really wasn’t the type of girl to get into one-night stands. At least she knew he wasn’t a serial killer, but this was Chad freaking Gamble…and she was Bridget Rodgers, a good twenty-plus pounds curvier than a supermodel and barely able to keep her head afloat in the finance department, and he was the city’s most talked about playboy with money falling out of his ears.
She was out of her league here.
And dear God, what kind of panties was she wearing tonight? The satin black ones or the granny panties? Since she hadn’t seriously considered going home with someone, if it were the granny panties, she would die.
But then his thumb made another circle and her hormones beat at her logic. Pushing aside all the ways they didn’t stack up together, she concentrated on the way her body was blossoming under his slight touch.
No more than twenty minutes later, Chad pulled into another parking garage. Bridget’s heart jumped.
Shutting off the engine, Chad glanced at her and gave a small, secretive smile. “Ready?”
Torn between being more ready than she’d ever been and wanting to run, she nodded.
“Stay,” he ordered, and then climbed out of the Jeep with an agility that made her envious. She watched him jog around the front of the car and then come to her side, opening the door. Extending an arm, he wiggled his fingers playfully.
Taking his hand, she let him pull her from the Jeep. Chad slipped an arm around her waist as he turned her toward the door. With his size and height, she actually felt small and petite for the first time in her life while tucked against his side.
They entered a wide and toasty hallway with hardwood floors. The doors with silver numbers were in dark cherry. It smelled like apples and spice in the hallway; the complete opposite of the mystery smell that clung to the cement floors and walls of what Bridget used to think was a decent apartment building she lived in.
When they stopped outside of 3307, Chad fished out his keys and opened the door. Stepping into the darkness, he flipped on a foyer light and quickly deactivated the alarm. Bridget hung back, her fingers tightening on her clutch.
The farther Chad moved in, the more lights came on. Opulence wasn’t even a word she would use to describe his apartment. For starters, the thing was bigger than most houses in the city. Well over three thousand square feet, and the loft-style apartment was prime real estate.
The foyer led into a spacious kitchen, which was an experience in polished granite and stainless steel, double ovens and numerous cabinets. Did he cook? Bridget stole a look at Chad as he dropped his keys on the kitchen island under a rack of pans and pictured him in an apron…and nothing else.
He caught her stare, and his lips spread into an easy grin. “Would you like a tour?”
“I think if I see any more I’ll get jealous,” she admitted.
He chuckled. “But I want you to see more.”
There was more to his words, an unsaid message that had the muscles in her belly tightening. She stepped forward and followed him out of the kitchen and into a formal dining room.
The long and narrow table surrounded by high-back chairs was minimalistic and gorgeous. Placed in the middle of the table was a black vase full of white flowers.
“I don’t ever eat in here.” Chad paused. “Okay, that’s a lie. I did once when I convinced my brothers to join me for Christmas dinner.”
She almost said his brothers’ names but stopped herself. The image of him naked in the apron helped. “Did you cook for them?”
He arched a brow. “You sound like you’d be surprised if I said yes.”
“You don’t seem like the type to cook.”
Chad made his way to an archway leading out of the dining area. “And what kind of man do I seem like, Bridget?”
The kind of man that would be hard if not impossible to forget after spending a night with, but she didn’t say that. Bridget just shrugged, ignoring the knowing look that settled across his striking features.
The TV in the living room was grossly large, taking up almost an entire wall. A leather sectional couch and recliners formed a circle around a glass coffee table covered in sports magazines.
Chad pushed open a door underneath a spiral wooden staircase leading upstairs. “Here’s my library, where I don’t do a lot of reading but mostly play Angry Birds on the computer.”
Bridget laughed, holding her clutch tightly as she peered around him. There were shelves lined with books, so she doubted the not-reading part unless they were there for pure looks. There were also several signed balls and mitts in glass cases hooked to the walls, mixed among encased autographed photos. It was like a baseball hall of fame up in here.
Easing the door shut, Chad nodded toward two doors beyond the staircase. “That leads to a guest bedroom and a bathroom. Upstairs?”
Her stomach flopped like she was sixteen again as she nodded, and they went upstairs. There was another bedroom used for guests, a room she soon dubbed the “white room” due to the walls, ceiling, bed, and carpet all being white. She was half afraid to step into that room.
But then he brushed past her, sliding a hand along her back as he headed down the hall, leaving a trail of hot chills in its wake. She could see down into the living room, but due to a nasty fear of heights, she backed around from the banister.
Chad nudged his bedroom door open with his hip and flipped a switch on the wall. Soft yellow light flowed across polished floors. A bed the size of a pool was in the middle of the room. He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket, tossing it carelessly onto the nightstand as if the phone didn’t cost three months’ worth of Bridget’s rent.
Dressers that matched the headboard sat against the opposite wall, identical to the bed stands on either side of the bed. A TV hung from the wall across from the bed and a door opened to a walk-in closet that nearly brought Bridget to her knees.
“Your closet,” she said, making her way to it. “I think it’s the size of my bedroom.”
“Originally, this was all one large room, but the interior designer built this closet and the bathroom.”
The room was larger? Jesus. Her gaze traveled over the arms of dark suits and then polo shirts all color coordinated. On the shelves above, stacks of jeans—designer, no doubt—rested. Her closet at home was an extra bedroom and a bunch of cheap clothing racks. She could live in Chad’s.
Knowing that the longer she stared into the closet, the more envious she’d become, she turned as Chad came up behind her, slipping an arm around her waist.
“I’m glad you said yes,” he said, his warm breath dancing along her cheek. “Actually, I’m thrilled that yo
u said yes.”
Bridget tensed as heat swathed the length of her back. She turned her cheek toward him, biting down on her lower lip as his cheek grazed hers. The question blurted out of her mouth before she could stop it. “Why me?”
“Why you?” Chad pulled back a little and turned her around so that she faced him. He frowned. “I’m not sure I follow your question.”
Her cheeks flushed as she tried to look away, but he caught the edge of her chin in a gentle grasp. Damn the absence of a filter. She cleared her throat. “Why did you want me to come home with you?”
Chad cocked his head to the side. “I think it’s pretty obvious.” His other hand slid to the curve of her hip, and he tugged her forward. She could feel him against her belly, hot and hard. “I can go into more detail if you want.”
“I…I can tell, but you could have any girl at the club. Some of them—”
“I know I can have any woman there.”
Well, he definitely wasn’t lacking in the self-esteem department. “What I’m trying to say is that out of everyone there, you could’ve taken home one of the girls who looked like she stepped off a runway.”
Chad frowned. “I did take home the one I wanted.”
“But—”
“There isn’t a ‘but’ in this.” He cupped her cheek, tilting her head back. When he spoke, his lips brushed hers. “I want you. Bad. Right now. Against the wall. On my bed. The floor and maybe in the bathroom later. I have a shower stall and a Jacuzzi we could put to really good use. I know you’d like it.”
Dear God…
His smile was pure sex. “It doesn’t matter where. I want to fuck you in all those places.” His lips swept across hers in a feather-light brush, and his voice dipped to a sinful whisper. “And I will.”
Bridget’s eyes widened—shocked by how much she enjoyed his vulgar language, but before she could respond, his mouth claimed hers in a deep, searing kiss that sparked a fire within. He pushed her back, fitting his hard body against hers. His hand left her cheek, drifting down her shoulder to the curve of her waist. And he kept kissing her—kissing her in a way a man had never kissed her before, as if he was drinking her in, taking long deep drafts, and her body melted against his. Bridget’s hips tilted into him, and she was rewarded with a deep, throaty growl.
Lifting his head just enough that his lips left hers, he said, “Are you still confused about why I brought you home?”
“No,” she breathed, dazed.
“Because I can keep showing you—actually, I want to show you.” His teeth nipped at her lower lip, and her chest rose against his. “I’ll admit I’m thrown off by this, too.”
Second thoughts? Damn it. “You are?”
Chad nodded as both his hands landed on her hips. “Normally, I’d just get down to business. Get us off at the same time, the way we like it.”
Bridget had no idea what he was talking about or how he knew the way “they liked it.” All she did know was that his hands were making their way down her thighs, inching closer to the hem of her dress. Her head fell back against the wall as the tips of his fingers finally touched her bare skin.
“God, you’re sexy.”
Closing her eyes, her back arched, and he kissed the expanse of her bared throat as his hands slid back up her body, stopping just below her breasts. His lips found hers again, slipping his tongue inside. “I want to be inside you. All night. But I need to feel you, and then taste you first.”
Chapter Four
Her eyes snapped open, protests forming on her tongue, but his hands found her heavy, aching breasts and those capable fingers swept over the material of her dress, rubbing the swollen peaks. She moaned his name then, already beyond reason, and his mouth closed over her breast, hot and demanding through the dress and the thin lace of her bra. Sharp tingles shot through her.
Chad lifted his head, covering her swollen lips with his again as he palmed her breast in one hand and finally—finally slipped the other under her dress. Using one powerful thigh, he parted hers and then his hand was on her inner thigh. She gasped as she felt his knuckles brush along her center.
“Damn,” he groaned. “You’re so wet.”
She was. She was drowning for him.
One finger moved along her core, stroking her slowly. “Have you ever been this turned on before?”
Placing her hands on his broad shoulders, her fingers dug into the soft material of his sweater. Lost in the building sensations, her body arched against his torturous movements.
“Tell me,” he growled.
What was he asking? When the question resurfaced, she couldn’t believe she’d even consider answering, but then his fingers stopped. Bastard.
“I bet you haven’t.” His lips traced the heat across her cheeks, then down her throat as his fingers resumed their idle back and forth motion. “Not if you’ve been with men who don’t know where to stick their fingers, let alone their dicks.”
The fact that the way he was talking to her was actually turning her on was a bit unnerving. It wasn’t like she was used to dirty talk. “You feel so good” was the extent of bed-talk she had experience with, but those crass words coming out of his mouth were making her think and want crazy, delicious things. “What about you?” she asked.
Chase chuckled against her throat. “I know exactly where to stick my fingers and my dick.”
“That’s good to hear.”
The answering laugh sent a shudder through her. His voice sharpened. “So? Did those other men know how to use their fingers and dick?”
For crying out loud, she couldn’t believe he was asking this question and she was going to answer. The words sort of tumbled off her lips, falling like drops of rain between them. “They were okay.”
“Okay.” Distaste clung to the single word. “Did they make you come?”
Oh, for God’s sake. Her eyes snapped open and that cocky grin he was wearing infuriated her. “Are you going to?” The question was out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
The blue hue of his eyes heated. “A little demanding, are you?”
Bridget didn’t respond. She really couldn’t, because those agile fingers of his slipped under the satin of her panties. Her body jerked and that grin of his turned knowing. Challenge had flared in Chad’s eyes, and it was obvious this man never backed down from one. Excitement pulsed in her blood like a euro techno song.
“Why won’t you answer the question?” he asked. The pads of his fingers brushing against her in a way that sent another jolt through her.
Because she was having a hard time breathing. “It’s a personal question.”
“A personal question? Aren’t we getting personal right now?”
Good point. When she didn’t answer, his thumb pressed down on the bundle of nerves and she cried out, her hips arching into his hand.
“I’ve kissed you. Here,” he said, capturing her lips in a quick, burning kiss. “And I’ve kissed you here.” His lips moved down her throat as his other hand teased the aching peak of her breast. “And I’ve touched you here…and I’m touching you lower now.”
To prove his point, one finger slipped inside her and she gripped his shoulders. “Chad…”
“But all of this is not too personal?” he asked, grinning as he moved his finger in and out, over and over until Bridget was breathless. “Bridget?”
How easily he’d taken over her body, astonished her, and when he cupped her intimately, still pushing his finger in and out of her, she felt the tight stirrings of release deep in her belly.
Chad seemed to know, because he picked up the pace as he tipped his head down. The soft edges of his hair brushed her cheek as he spoke into her ear. “That’s okay. You don’t need to answer, because whatever they made you feel is nothing in comparison to how I’m going to make you feel. And I promise you it will be more than just okay.”
Her heartbeat skyrocketed as the sinful promise weaved its way around her. Oh yeah, Bridget was sure all of this wa
s going to be more than okay.
Chad said nothing as his slipped another finger inside her, but he watched her—oh, his eyes were latched onto hers the whole time he worked her, refusing to allow her to look away, to escape the maddening rush of feelings he was creating.
A self-satisfied grin played across his lips as he brushed his thumb over the sensitive part of her, his eyes burning as she sucked in a shrill breath. He began tracing an idle circle around the tightened bud, coming close to touching it, but always straying away at the last moment. After a few circles, she was panting—absolutely freaking panting.
And Chad reveled in that. “I love the way you look right now.”
“You do?” Her hips moved forward, but Chad pressed in, stilling her movements.
“Stay still,” he ordered gruffly. His thumb made another enticingly close circle. “Your cheeks are flushed and lips swollen and parted. Beautiful.”
Bridget felt like she was burning up inside, turning into a pool of heated water. Her hands slipped down his chest, and she was awed to find his heart pounding against her palm. She ached to move into the wicked touch, but she was imprisoned between him and the wall. The evidence of his arousal now pressed against her hip heightened the yearning sweeping through her.
And when he did something truly devious with his fingers, she cried out. Her soft mewls, his slow, sensual assault, it was all driving her toward the edge. Her back arched as far as he’d allow it. She felt him grin against her flushed skin.
With his lips within kissing distance, he said, “I’m going to make you come in less than a minute.”
Her breath caught. “Less than a minute?”
“Less than a motherfucking minute,” Chad replied, grinning—really grinning. Not a smug one but a playful one, and her heart stuttered when it shouldn’t—it couldn’t, because this wasn’t anything about the heart and she really didn’t know him. “Yes. It will be that impressive,” he added.
Cocky son of a bitch—he really had magic hands. Playtime was so over. His finger moved in and out, fast and then faster. In a matter of seconds, she was squirming, her breathing halting in her throat.
