Falling Like Stars

by Eve Kasey

  “If losing feels this good, I’m not sure I can handle winning with you, Elle.”

  24

  Chen entered his own apartment in flames. His body buzzed with the adrenaline of flying Stratos and sending Elle sky-fucking-high in his arms. Neither pleasure outweighed the other. In both cases, the experience had been perfect. Better than imagined.

  Most of OrbitAll was at the bar in town, victory running through their veins. Elated as Chen had been by Stratos’ textbook flight to the Karman line, the cusp of space, there’d been only one way he could imagine celebrating. After Elle broke against him, soft and supplicating, he could imagine dozens. But anticipation heightened the game. He knew every hour he waited to be ripped apart inside her would make the moment that much better. He hadn’t forgotten his temporary timeline. Chen would take—and savor—what he could.

  The next day was business as usual at the office. A successful test flight required almost more work than a failed one. Tate moved around the hangar with renewed energy. Because the engineers gossiped like secondary schoolers, Chen had learned that Rosie had stayed for the after-party and taken Tate’s private jet back to San Diego. He would bet a week’s salary that time with Rosie was the reason their boss was glowing. Even the staggering stacks of reports he had to read and sign didn’t wipe the cheer from Tate’s face.

  Only marginally less important were whispers about Chen and Elle. There’d been dozens of witnesses to their tender moment on the runway before his flight and even more to their absence at the after-party. Assumptions had been made. So far, he’d laughed them off.

  But that had been before Elle came clicking into the hangar on stiletto heels, hair bouncing and eyes full of fire that they shared.

  Chen couldn’t keep her, shouldn’t even want her. But it was too late. He wanted to be with her, despite what a relationship with Elle would cost. Six hundred ninety-nine days and heartache from giving in were better than seven hundred days without her.

  She seemed to be heading toward the table where he sat with Thomas and Harv. He caught her eye and she shot him a wide, genuine smile that tugged at his heart. He was so fucked.

  Chen sidled away from the table as she neared. A rush of nerves swelled through him as he wrapped an arm around her silk-and-wool clad waist. Her pomegranate smell melted his bones.

  She gasped. “What are you—”

  “Everyone is already wondering about us. I thought I would give them something…what’s the word?”

  He kissed her deeply as he drew her against him, his free hand cradling her face. The way her fingers crawled up his chest had a very physical effect on the rest of his body. His cock thickened as her tongue tangled with his.

  Seconds of bliss later, Elle answered his question, breathless. “Concrete. Something concrete.”

  Chen ran his thumb down her jaw, entranced by the abyss in her eyes. “That’s it.” He flicked his gaze to the hangar behind her. People were definitely staring. And smiling. Who didn’t root for love? “Mission accomplished.”

  The weight of his duty as eldest son crushed him, but she made him feel like he was floating. He dropped his voice so his words were just for the woman who made him feel so weightless. “There’s so many reasons we shouldn’t, but I can’t fucking fight this anymore. I want to be with you, Elle.”

  Her supple, searching mouth met his in a grateful exhale that he felt in his soul. “I want to be with you too, you irritating man. Admitting that seems like the only way I’m going to get laid.”

  He chuckled softly. “Tell me how you want me to fuck you and I’ll do it.”

  He felt her nipples harden through her silky shirt and bit his lower lip in glee. Not that he was unaffected. Especially not after she slid a hand up the back of his neck and whispered, “From behind with your eyes on mine.”

  Chen swore in Cantonese. So that he wouldn’t drag her to the nearest empty office and make that happen, he defaulted to snark.

  “As soon as you tell me you love me, gorgeous.”

  It was Elle’s turn to swear.

  He stepped back to the table, laughing. “See you at noon for our meeting.”

  She shook her head as she walked away. And then she looked back. He watched to make sure.

  Thomas rolled his eyes as Chen rejoined his team. “Oh, can we continue?”

  Chen couldn’t stop grinning. “You were young once, too. I think.”

  “And I’ve pulled worse shit than kissing a pretty girl, but you’re on the damn clock.”

  Harvey chuckled. “Give the kid a break.”

  “No breaks.” Tate appeared, clutching a stack of paperwork he handed off to Thomas. “We’re that much closer to commercial service. Let’s get it perfect.”

  “I would if I stopped getting interrupted,” Thomas grumbled.

  Their Friday lunchtime meeting had become his favorite of the week. Chen’s meetings were mostly technical, involving engineers and data and way too many department directors. This meeting, Elle’s meeting, was all about creativity. Plus, he was allowed to blatantly stare at her for an hour or more without repercussion.

  They had started without him, the team gathered around Rosie’s laptop. Chen dropped into the remaining chair at the round table and tuned into the discussion about the hotel’s common room.

  “It’s an open space designed to be flexible as we learn what areas people gravitate toward. Initially, we’ll create zones using furniture and visual cues. Group dining, cozy conversation areas, some workspaces with USB ports and other amenities.”

  Chen couldn’t help but smile at Rosie’s musical voice or Tate’s inability to tear his gaze away from her. These two women. Jesus. Tate’s expression was neutral, but his eyes gave his heart away. They tracked Rosie’s every move.

  And Quinn? Chen wondered what her deal was. Curvy and vivacious, she’d probably have men lining up for her if she ever looked up from her devices or vacated work mode. But she didn’t seem to have an off switch.

  Elle was nodding slowly as Rosie talked through the space. She jumped up to scribble some notes under HOTEL on the whiteboard.

  “The interior will borrow from OrbitAll’s color palette. We’ll do navy, gray, and white, with pops of yellow,” Rosie explained.

  “Can we create an Instagrammable area inside somewhere? A branded backdrop for pictures?” Quinn asked.

  Rosie smiled brilliantly. “We have.” She advanced the slides to a dramatic feature wall splashed with shimmery yellow and gray dots. Scrolled words near the top read, Something incredible is waiting to be known.

  “Oooh,” Quinn gushed.

  “Carl Sagan. It’s perfect.” Tate grinned and Chen did not miss Rosie’s double take.

  Chen clapped his hands together. “Well, this week couldn’t have gone any better.” The sly, private quirk of Elle’s mouth made his cock jump. He needed to make her come again. Imminently. “I say we celebrate tonight. Really celebrate.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Tate sounded wary.

  “A night out.”

  “Palm Springs?” Quinn suggested. “There’s decent clubs there and it’s a quick flight on the jet.”

  Chen looked to Rosie and Elle. “You in?”

  They shared a look and a grin spread across Elle’s face. “I love to dance. Rosie, not so much.”

  “I love to dance, just not with other people,” Rosie corrected. “I like to dance for me, because I enjoy it. I wish there were dance clubs just for women. No offense to you two.”

  “Huh. How is that not a thing?” Quinn’s mental gears seemed to be turning. A new Geier family venture, perhaps?

  “Because most people aren’t there for a platonic experience,” Chen supplied.

  “Apparently, some people are.” Quinn rose. “Let me know how the night goes.”

  “Come with us,” Elle urged.

  Quinn shook her head. “Can’t. I’m headed into L.A. I’ve got a flight to Paris later this evening. Be good, copines. Don’t do anything I
wouldn’t do, and I mean that from a public relations perspective. I’ve set Google alerts on all of you.” She left the office, wiggling her fingers in goodbye.

  Tate sighed again. “Palm Springs is happening?”

  “It’s happening,” Chen answered. He knew Tate’s ideal Friday night involved bourbon and a book. But Rosie would be there. “And you’re going to love it.”

  Chen would love the night out more. A scantily clad Elle moving in the darkness, in his arms, against his body? If their night didn’t end in ruined clothing, he’d give up flying. He was that confident in his ability to drive her wild. The game was on.

  25

  A strong tiki drink and a stronger beat moved like magic through Elle’s body. The miracle of Tate-level money meant that within a few hours of their decision to head to Palm Springs for the night, they were there.

  And were they ever there. Elle had chosen a slinky plum dress that dipped past her breasts and sexy, strappy heels. Chen’s hands hadn’t departed from her skin since they’d boarded the jet. Rosie had borrowed a taupe lace romper that offered glimpses of her legs and back. Tasteful yet sexy. Tate was clad in all black, his button-down shirt open at the neck and rolled up to the elbow. And Chen? He looked delectable in tight gray slacks and a silvery dress shirt that felt like silk under her fingers.

  A dam had broken open the night before in her apartment. Tasting, feeling, smelling, hearing Chen had turned her trickle of want into a torrent. The magic he’d spun with his fingers had only made her more insatiable, a fact he was well aware of. He’d kissed her at work, totally confident she’d allow him. And she had. Now they were together. Officially a couple. Elle and her annoying neighbor.

  With the easy way he’d caressed her thigh and between her shoulder blades during the thirty-minute flight, there was no question in her mind—or anyone else’s—where they stood. Elle belonged to Chen and he to her. She realized on the flight that for the first time in years, she had a chance at her dream life. With Chen, she might find the fairytale. He continued to surprise her.

  She moved to the Latin beat, inching closer to Rosie. Her friend’s eyes were closed, a small smile on her lips. Her smile widened as she opened her honey-colored eyes and saw Elle grinning at her. “I missed this,” she shouted.

  “Me, too.”

  Dancing was how they’d spent their nights in college, yoga their mornings. Somewhere in there Elle had found time for drawing. She was still figuring out the balance of this new life. No yoga and no drawing, but for now she’d take dancing with her oldest friend.

  And her new man. From the periphery of the room, Chen saw her watching him. His full lips lifted in a lascivious grin that stopped her breath. He ditched Tate and their drinks to head her way. She tipped her head back against his shoulder as his warm form materialized behind her. Gentle fingers found her hips. She’d been right: the man had moves. His rhythm synced with hers perfectly, his body anticipating her every motion, a solid wall of lean muscle and capability.

  Her nipples tightened every time his eyes strayed down the plunging neckline of her dress. His gaze brushed against her breasts as palpably as if he’d touched her. When his fingers found the skin of her exposed thigh, lightning shot upward and pooled deep. Her body pulsed more in anticipation than from music. Still, despite how good she felt, they weren’t alone in a bubble built of sexual promises. They were in a crowded club, and for some reason, Rosie and Tate were worlds apart.

  “Dance with Rosie?” she said into the shell of Chen’s ear. He shivered.

  “With pleasure.”

  He swept a giggling Rosie into his arms as Elle headed for Tate. She took a long drink of her dangerously fruity cocktail while she studied the gorgeous and eerily still man in front of her. She shook her head, bemused.

  He took a sip of amber liquid and flicked his crazy-clear aqua eyes to hers. “What?”

  “I’m reading the minds in the room. People want to know why a man who looks so damn delicious also looks so fuck-off-ish. Every woman is staring at you.”

  “Every woman but one.”

  Elle moved her gaze to her friend. Rosie was stumbling a bit more than she should considering her cocktail was only half drunk, but she was laughing as Chen twirled her in a tight circle. Elle’s heart thumped with affection. “Give her time, Tate. She had real trauma in her last relationship.”

  He stepped closer, his stocky body tensing. “What do you mean?”

  “Whoa. Sorry.” Elle put a gentle hand on his chest. “Emotional trauma. But it was no less damaging than where your mind just went. Trust is her biggest thing. I can’t break it. It’s her story to tell.”

  Tate turned toward the dance floor with a long sigh. “I’ll be here when she wants to tell it.”

  She felt tears fill her eyes. No one, no one, deserved to be treasured more than Rosie. If this beautiful billionaire was the man who finally figured that out, Elle would be right there cheering him on. “She’s worth the wait.”

  “I know.” His tone was low, not meant for her, but Elle heard him anyway.

  Chen led the woman in question their way as Elle dashed a tear off her cheek. He handed Rosie into a seat where she collapsed, still giggling. She took a sip of her drink and turned to chat with Tate.

  Chen leaned toward Elle and wordlessly offered his hand. The gravity of his gaze swept down her form, blazing a trail of heat in its wake. The tingles started before her palm even met his. His other hand found her lower back as they moved to the center of the dance floor.

  She leaned into his warm, solid form. His hand slid lower, long fingers resting on the flare of her bum. She let him control the pace and guide her body to the slow, sensual song, then the faster one after that. She lost herself in his movements, their closeness, in eyes that held more than desire. Her nipples, hindered only by the thin fabric of her dress, kept brushing against his muscled chest. Pleasure bloomed and built from the constant pressure of his hips against hers, from fingers that kept pressing her closer.

  Elle had never wanted a man more. And she wanted more than Chen’s muscular body and teasing grin. She wanted his stories, his perspective on the world. And those fingers. Couldn’t forget about those. With Chen, she might be able to have love, sex, and more. The fairy tale.

  Chen sensed her desire. Her need. Every once in a while, as they danced in perfect harmony, a salacious, taunting smile would cross his lips. What are you waiting for? he asked without speaking.

  She snagged his hand in hers the next time his thumb traced a path down her ribcage to her hip. She led him away from the crush of people toward the exit, fresh air her main objective. Tate and Rosie were not at the table where they’d left them. They passed a bouncer who stood, arms crossed and face stony, in front of a stairway that was siphoning in cool night air. “What’s up there?” she asked him.

  “Rooftop deck. Bottle service only.”

  A private booth on the roof sounded better than a make-out session in the parking lot, even if the lot did have nice trees and string lights.

  “How much?”

  “Twelve hundred.”

  “Dollars?” Chen choked out. “For a table?”

  “Boss is feeling greedy tonight. There’s been no takers.”

  Elle pulled her credit card out of her clutch while Chen continued to sputter. She leaned closer to the fortress of a bouncer. “I’ll leave you a massive tip if you make sure there are no takers for the next hour.” She shivered as Chen’s fingers grazed the curve of her waist. “Or two.”

  He ran her card without a word and seconds later, Elle pulled Chen up the stairs with a renewed sense of urgency. As badly as she’d wanted him the night before as he’d lifted her onto her kitchen counter with no effort and so much potential, this was worse. Last night had been want. Tonight was requirement.

  Outside on the empty rooftop deck, the stars sparkling above them, Elle turned to the man she could not get enough of. She was done waiting. She placed her hand against his cheek and
leaned in so he could feel her words on his lips. “Chen, I’m going to fuck you now.”

  26

  Chen’s world exploded. He was conscious only of wild hair, soft lips, the need to be inside Elle. Fuck their games. Desperate movements toward something, anything, that could hold them upright brought his back against a solid surface. Leather. A booth. He perched on the edge and brought her closer.

  Elle’s body pressed into his, her breasts soft and full and taut at the tip. Moans and sighs set the soundtrack, his and hers. He could feel the bass from the club below like a heartbeat, but it couldn’t keep the frenetic pace his had in response to her words. I’m going to fuck you now.

  His hands found her bare thighs as he lifted her onto his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Fuck,” he groaned. His cock swelled against the heat between her thighs.

  He clenched his teeth against the too-deep pleasure of her slow grinding against him. He nipped a path down her exposed chest, between her breasts, following the dip of her delicious dress. He was incinerated by the look in her eyes, on her face, whenever he looked up. As much as he wanted to fuck her loud and long right now, he also wanted to savor the cosmically crafted moment. He wanted to see her squirm. Possibly beg. Only because it would be better for them both. Chen was not a selfish lover—he just understood the heady effect of anticipation.

  But as soon as he decided to slow down, Elle quickened. She rubbed her clit against his cock with more intent, her moans heightening. His sexy woman found and chased her pleasure. Their clothing didn’t hinder the heat, the friction, he felt between them. When he swiped a finger across her panties, he dragged wet heat with him. Chen palmed her breast and bit her nipple through the fabric as she arched against him in a cry that nearly undid him. Breathless from her orgasm, with her head thrown back, Chen released her nipple from his teeth and languidly kissed her exposed throat. His hands shook from how badly he wanted her.