A Commitment to Love, Book 3 (47 page)

BOOK: A Commitment to Love, Book 3
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“Great name.” Chase grinned. “Mrs. Waterson, do you like your job?”

She held her hand to her chest. “Excuse me?”

He targeted her with a hard gaze, one I’d experienced many times. That look used to make me cringe inside. His eyes said he owned the world and took it by shedding blood, while his mouth always sneered as if he was hungry for more war. “Mrs. Waterson, you’re done asking questions.”

She opened her mouth. The guy next to her nudged her arm, and then she shut her mouth and remained silent.

“Thank you, Mrs. Felicia Waterson.” Chase nodded. “Anyone else?”

A man with black glasses gestured that he wanted to talk. “Can we ask why you are here in London?”

“Yes, of course.” Chase stared into the cameras close to us. “I had a small problem that has been fixed. Due to that solution and the recent events, I’ve begun to see life differently. I’m ready to finally settle down with my beautiful girlfriend, Jasmine Montgomery. Today, I want to announce our engagement.”

The ballsy reporter decided to say something else, “Weren’t you already engaged to someone else?”

Chase frowned. “Does anyone else have a question?”

A redhead put her hand in the air. “Will there be a party?”

Chase chuckled. “Good question. Yes, there will always be a party. I want everyone to join us in celebrating our engagement.”

Someone yelled out from the far back, “Will you hold the huge gala in London?”

Chase turned to me, but still spoke in the microphone. “That is up to my new fiancée. Jasmine, would you like to tell everyone, and me, where we will be holding this fun event?”

No. I absolutely don’t want to!

I leaned in and cleared my throat. “Miami.”

A few people mumbled some things in disgust. Others cheered.

I could imagine why people would not like a party leaving this city. Chase could draw in a mega rich group of guests to London. Money would definitely be spent throughout the area—from high end hotels to shopping for our presents. His wealthy friends would spare no bill.

More questions came, but with the tight expression on Chase’s face getting even more annoyed, I handled the rest of them myself and left him to stressing behind me. After a good ten more minutes, his lawyer team stepped in and took over the conference to handle the ones dealing with Lucy, where they continued to say that Mr. Stone had nothing to do with her body getting there.

Minutes later, we walked off in silence. Chase tapped his finger on my hand as he held it. A serious expression spread across his face.

“What’s wrong?” I kept his slow pace toward the car.

“You mean besides Benny trying to murder me and destroy everything I love in this world?”

“Yes. Besides Benny, is there something else?” I asked.

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“What is it?” I asked again. “When we were on the tour, you were in a decent mood. And in front of the conference you claimed to be nervous, but now … now you’re pissed.”

“It’s not big enough to discuss,” he explained.

“I still want to know.”

“Why?”

“If I’m going to be your wife one day, I should—”

“It’s not an
if you’re going to be my wife
, it’s a when.”

“I’m just saying.”

“You will be my wife.”

“Okay, Chase. Stop getting me off of the topic. What’s wrong?”

“In fact, we need to set a wedding date.”

“We have time.”

“Do we? I want Stone to be your name now.”

“Fine, Chase.”

“I won’t let you go,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I’ve got that message.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. In fact, come on. Let me show you something.” Instead of us strolling over to the car, I guided him back into the museum.

“Will it involve you becoming nude?” he asked.

“Perhaps.”

He frowned.

“What?” I giggled. “Wouldn’t you like to see me naked?”

“Yes,” he licked his lips, “but I already told you that I’m going to wait until you’re done mourning.”

I poked my bottom lip out as we entered the Sherlock Holmes museum. “Well, I still want to show you my surprise.”

“Hmmm.”

“What?”

“I’m wondering what your surprise is.” He held my hand as we climbed the stairs.

“No. What’s really wrong?” I asked again.

“I told you it wasn’t a big deal.”

I paused, let go of his hand, and placed mine on my hips. “Damn it, Chase. Just tell me.”

He rolled his eyes, which was the cutest thing ever because he barely did it. And when he did, it made him appear like a spoiled little boy, one that needed to be whipped and …

Damn, I’m horny.

Chase raised his eyebrows. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Because I want to have you inside of me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“The reporter. Mrs. Waterson. She pissed me off with that comment.”

“Which one?”

“The one where she said dead women follow me around.”

“Not true.”

“I don’t have enough fingers to count all of the dead bodies in my past.”

“But they’re not all women … and almost all of these bodies are the result of Dawn, Wendy, and Benny. Forget what that reporter said.”

We continued upstairs.

“What are you going to show me in here?” he asked, when we arrived at the top of the stairs. “I thought we’d seen it all.”

I got in front and guided him toward Sherlock’s made-up bedroom. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure.” He followed behind me.

I stepped into the fictional character’s space. Items lay on his bed as if he’d just rushed out of there and forget several things. It was a small bed, around the size of a twin mattress. A burgundy and brown blanket lay on top next to big fluffy white pillows. Green patterned paper dressed the wall, along with framed maps and old black and white family pictures. A simple Persian rug lay on the floor.

Chase scanned the room. “What’s the secret?”

“I don’t have a true surprise.”

“No?”

“No. I just wanted to get you alone, and the car wouldn’t give us any privacy. No divider from the driver, and I’m sure a few news vans would be following us.” I pressed my lips against his and inhaled as much of him as I could. When I pulled back, he groaned and grabbed at my hips.

I pushed his hands away and edged back. “Do me a big favor.”

He quirked his eyebrows. “What?”

“Unbuckle those suit pants and let them fall to the ground.”

His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed.

I clapped my hands. “Chop. Chop.”

A soft plea escaped his parted lips. “Tesoro.”

“Do it.”

“We’re in a museum.”

“I understand. That doesn’t mean you can’t undo your pants.”

He grasped his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.” I marched to him, snatched at his belt buckle, and undid it like a mad woman who hadn’t seen a dick in several long years.

“Tesoro, what are you doing?” He stared at my hands as I moved to the top button.

“Returning a favor.”

“What favor?”

I lowered the zipper. “Pick one—saving my life, getting me away from Benny, rescuing Vivian, proposing to me, calming me down just now before the press conference—”

He grabbed my hands and stopped them before they could go inside of his pants. “That’s what a man does when he loves a woman.”

“You’ve got a pretty huge definition for love.” I pushed his hands away and lowered to my knees.

“You’ve got a pretty huge definition of appreciation.” He gazed down at me, and with both of his hands he held the top of his head. “Fuck. Get up, before I can’t stop myself.”

“Shh.” I pulled his boxer briefs down in the front and searched for that lovely cock.

“Here?” he asked as I brought his length out.

“Yes, here.” I wrapped my fingers around his long, thick hardness. “Your job is to be lookout.”

“I’ll only be focusing on you.” His breathing shifted to deep inhales and long exhales as he watched my hand slip up and down his cock. I kept the tip an inch from my lips, teasing him and hopefully making him wonder if it would ever get a chance to slide into my wet mouth.

But in the end, I couldn’t wait to taste him and pushed him into my parted lips. His thickness traveled along my tongue.

“Tesoro,” he whispered.

I pulled his wet cock out of my mouth and stroked. When I bored with that, I parted my lips, stuck out my tongue, and let it trail along his the thick length, starting at the tip and inch by inch heading to his balls, where I lowered even more and sucked them, one by one into my mouth at a time.

“Aww, fuck.” Chase grabbed the back of my head and held onto it, not limiting my movement or forcing me to do anything. Just a gentle touch. A small caress of his fingertips along my scalp.

When I finished licking, I counted our blessings that we hadn’t been interrupted yet, and then sucked him into my mouth, my knees pressing into the Persian rug as I focused.

“Damn you, tesoro.”

Sucking Chase’s cock was never pretty.

I loved the thickness too much, and it was too big to take it all in and still appear all cutesy and seductive like a porn star. I drew him into my mouth with an urgency. Up and down, I bobbed my head on his length. At times, he went down into my throat a little and I had to focus on inhaling and not gagging. Salvia dripped along the corners of my lips. My eyes watered and teared.

Still, I sucked him off.

This man had saved the day in more ways than one, and had promised to continue to rescue me in the future.

I sucked that cock like it was my own personal duty in life. And with each inhale of him, my panties moistened. My jaw tightened. His soft murmurs of pleasure shifted to loud groans.

Downstairs, the museum staff had to have heard us, but no one dared to bother the millionaire and his new fiancée.

He tightened the grip on the back of my head, and with a weak moan he pushed that lovely cock deeper into me. I almost came close to vomiting.

“You’re going to get us arrested,” he whispered as I pulled him out of my mouth.

Spit spilled from my lips and onto his length. I gathered it all up with my hands and stroked him in slow movements. “Focus.”

“Finally an appropriate time for that word.”

“Focus.”

“Trust me, tesoro, I’m focused.”

I flicked my tongue at him. “Are you?”

“God yes.”

I rubbed my hand over the head of his cock, massaging all of the tiny little senses around the rim that made him go crazy.

He shuddered.

“I want you to come all over me.” I spit on the tip of his cock some more and returned to stroking. “I want you to make this black and white dress all white.”

“Dear God, you’ve become nasty.” He ground his cock into my hands. “I fucking love it.”

“Focus.”

“You say that again, and I’m going to spill my seed all over that pretty little face of yours.”

“Mmmm.” I licked my lips. “Do it, baby. Put it all over me.”

“Ah!” His cock pulsed as that white liquid burst from his tip. It came out warm and thick, spilling all over my hand as I continued to stroke him some more. “Oh God yes.”

“That’s right, baby. Give it all to me.”

His body shook as more sperm sprayed out, dots hit my chin and he gazed at that white liquid on my face and growled like a wild animal.

I laughed and stopped stroking him, sure that the werewolf howl had signaled the end. A few drops spilled onto the Persian rug.

“Uh oh,” I said. “Look what you did to Mr. Holmes’s room.”

“What
I
did?” He gestured to his cock, now shining and covered in spit and sperm. “You dragged me in here.”

“I did not.”

“You forced me into a blow job.”

“I doubt anyone would believe that.” I chuckled and rose from the kneeling position.

His chest rose and fell as he stared at me with lust in his eyes. “You think this is funny?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.” I edged away.

“Come here.”

“No, we have to go.”

“You didn’t come.”

“This wasn’t about me.”

He rushed for me, before I could get out of the way. Laughing, I fell into his arms.

“It’s always about you.” He buried his face into my neck and sucked on the sensitive curve. My body prickled with excitement. Tiny little sparks throbbing all through me.

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