Chase (6 page)

The cone was way more fun than I like to admit; luckily the spray sluiced off most of my tell-tale excitement. I can only hope he’s teasing. Finally he drops a kiss on my shoulder and with it another bombshell.

‘Now put on something pretty. We’ll have a sexy night out.’

I fling my arms around his neck. ‘Must we? What happened to our sexy night in? I was looking forward to it.’

He smiles slowly, his expression dark. ‘Me too. You can’t believe how much. But I feel like showing you off on a dance floor. Plus it’s my cook’s night off. Anyway, you deserve it. Tomorrow we’re invited to a civic reception to welcome the South American delegation to Boston.’

I laugh and nuzzle his neck. ‘What, this is your revenge on me for causing you all this hassle in the first place?’

His face grows stern. ‘Nope. This is both a family and a professional duty.’ He kisses me gently, his look hooded. ‘My revenge on you comes later.’

We agree that first I have to call in at Billy’s tiny apartment to pick up some things for the next two days, since I arrived earlier than planned at his residence and was unaware we’d spend most of it black-tie. My trip across town is swift. I dive into the apartment and snatch up my bag, ready-packed for a wicked weekend but lacking any significant evening wear. I grab my cocktail dress and my newest long gown, drape both over my arm and make for the door. As I glance out of the window I pause a moment.

There’s a woman standing across the street.

People wait across streets from places all the time. Nothing special about that.

I must be getting jumpy. Darnley’s obsession with security rarely gets to me but the thought that our weekend could be derailed this easily makes me nervous. Also, something about this woman is oddly familiar.
I’ve seen her outside the Academy.
And more than once, now I come to think of it. She seems to be staring right at my window. A chill runs through me.

I slam the door impatiently and head for the stairs. I’m getting as paranoid as Darnley. Then I run back and double-check the lock, race back down to Bullen and try to forget about it.

Getting ready takes a while because Darley insists on supervising every stage of my dressing and make-up, leaning casually on the dresser in my room and tweaking my nipples to hard pebbles to show under the modest neckline of my semi-respectable, tight-fitting cocktail dress and then scooping it down a little to spoil the effect, modesty-wise, so it ends up showing far more of me than I usually allow.

I lift my chin, hoping to look unconcerned, until he runs a finger along my lowered neckline and grins, ruining that effect too.

At last we climb into the car. Tonight the security detail comes with us. Two men sit silently in front, two in another car behind. I gather we’re on the lookout for Cola.
We start out sleek and high-end and work slowly down through the nightspots. But when we finally reach a nightspot popular with the Harvard crowd Darnley squeezes my arm. ‘Hey. Look over there. In the middle of the dance floor.’

It’s Cola, dancing with abandon. All at once she spots us and bids a hasty farewell to her partner, who disappears into the crowd. She hurries over to greet us, but now I see Darnley tap a message into his phone. As she takes us both by the arm and leads us over to the bar, she chatters eagerly while we order cocktails, and happily settles onto a barstool, like she always hangs around in bars on her own. Darnley remains tight-lipped.

Soon she sidles up to me. ‘Powder room?’

We go together, arm-in-arm.

‘Having fun?’ I smile at her, puzzled. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright. She’s a world away from the sullen child I met earlier
.

I search for something to say. Babysitting spoilt rich kids is no way to use up our precious weekends. ‘I hope you enjoyed the play. You’re welcome to sit in any time.’

She puts her head on one side. ‘Thank you. It’s such a sad story.’ All of a sudden her lip trembles. ‘And please, don’t tell him about me next time.’ Her lovely eyes fill with tears.

She looks unbearably sad and now I sense real pain. Poor kid, but it’s a relief there’s something real below her brittle spoilt-brat surface. I look at her with new interest.

‘I didn’t tell him that time,’ I say gently. ‘You did that by using my phone.’ It occurs to me that maybe Darnley would sooner conceal his methods. It might be diplomatic to gloss over her casual phone use.

It also occurs to me that she was on-site for some reason. If she’s on a roll she’s troubled in some way. Our students don’t just wander in off the street.

I pat her hand and say nothing.

Definitely rehab.

I hover while she fusses with her hair and make-up and finally slips into a cubicle. As another one frees up I do too, listening out for her. Other women come in and chatter and leave. When I emerge all’s quiet but she’s still in there so I hang around to wait.

Minutes later I frown.
Is she on something?
Darnley will never forgive me
…

‘Cola?’ I push at her cubicle door.

The cubicle’s empty.

Panic rising, I reach for my phone then pause. Maybe she’s back at the table. I glance round the door but Darnley’s sitting alone at our table, his men nearby.

Is she dancing? If I go back in without her Darnley will freak.
Think.

I check the small corridor I’m standing in. The locked doors are all marked ‘Private’ except one marked ‘Fire exit’, right at the end. When I push it I find it leads outside.

Could someone have come in? I reach for my phone, seriously alarmed now. As I do it the door swings open and Cola appears.

‘Where the heck have you been?’ I sound shrill. ‘I thought …’

‘Thought what?’ She dashes a hand to her face, like she’s been crying.

‘You OK?’ I touch her arm.

‘You spying on me too?’ She snatches her arm away and now she’s back to the charm-school dropout. ‘I wanted some air, that’s all.’

‘Darnley’s worried about you. He says –’

She pushes past me. ‘I know what he says. I want to leave now. I’m tired of dancing.’

Back at our table Darnley takes one look at her sour expression, so different from a few minutes ago, and frowns at me. ‘What happened?’

I roll my eyes. ‘How should I know?’

I’m still dizzy from her mood-swing. The rehab’s definitely not working.

We drive back in silence, thankfully without Cola, who’s now en route to her hotel.
Darnley’s expression is unreadable. As we walk in and we’re finally alone he glares down at me. ‘What’s going on? How much do you know about all this, Ella? A call came from your cell. You take for ever in the powder room. Now she’s upset. What happened?’

‘She slipped out by the fire exit. Just for some air,’ I add quickly. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d say she was meeting somebody
.
Darnley, what’s wrong with her?’

He frowns. ‘How do I know? Stalking’s a nasty business. It gets to people. Lucky one of the men was stationed outside.’

At my furious look he smiles and pulls me into his arms. ‘Hey. Just testing. Forget about her.
Now for my revenge.’

His mouth fastens on mine before I can catch my breath or prepare. His kiss is urgent and hungry, tasting me like I want to be tasted, lingering like I need him to linger. His tongue has a language of its own and now its subtle signals reach every part of my body, sending sensation rippling out all over me.

When he pulls away his look is veiled but strangely intense. ‘I like to see you out on the town. But tonight something tells me you’re uneasy. Why? Is it because you’re with me? Or because we had company?’

I press against him, warmed through with his glorious male heat. I can feel him swelling against me. Little shifts and flexes of his muscles tell me I’m wanted and tell me how much. And one part in particular is telling me very clearly indeed. I can feel it stiffening, ready for action.

‘It’s just … I’m not used to the security detail. Kind of cramps my style.’

His expression hardens. ‘Too bad. That’s how I work.’

I gaze up at him in despair. ‘Yes, but it’s hardly normal, is it? Most people have fun without an armed guard in tow.’

His arms wind around my back, then one hand eases down my zipper and the other slips inside my dress and splays out all over my tender rump, where the effects of his spanking are flowering fully under the tight satin. ‘It’s just for a couple of days. And they’re not here now. Or hadn’t you noticed in all the excitement? I like this dress, by the way, but we’re going to have to rearrange it a little.’

The rearrangement is swift and dramatic. He bunches it round my hips, hauls the top down to pin my arms and lifts me bodily over to the bed. In seconds he’s kneeling over my face, his eyes burning down into me with all the fire he’s kept hidden so long.

Excitement flares. The pressure at his flies is startling now. I feel an answering pressure down below. With an effort I lean up to try to unfasten him with my teeth, one of my most effective party tricks whenever we reach this point.

With a grin he pushes me back down. ‘Not so fast, missy. You’ve still got some ground to make up from your schoolgirl antics earlier. I’ll do the honours here.’ He’s smiling as he frees himself. His massive column juts in my face, my doom and my delight, and as he edges it just within reach of my eager lips I lap eagerly, the light scent of his shower gel blending with his body heat in a heady mix that stirs my senses and sends a fierce glow straight to my groin.

‘
Whoa
, easy. Leave some for later.’ His voice comes out in a rasp, surprising me a little. Why is he so moved by this? Why tonight? He’s been watching me all evening, like he can’t get enough of me. Now he’s close to the finish line already and we’ve hardly started …

‘Lick it a little. All the way. I like to see your tongue. You look like a kitten with cream.’

I obey eagerly, nervous at first and then eager, thrilling to the salty, silky surfaces he shifts to present to me, making it easier for me to reach. His breath is uneven now as he holds off from release, determined, as always, to make me beg.

Just when I’m sure he must erupt into orgasm he pulls away with an effort, wrenches my dress a little further down my arms, scoops my breasts out of my lacy bra cups and plunders them with his mouth.

I writhe below him as he feasts first on one and then the other, his kiss deep and arousing as he fastens on each swollen, stiffening nipple in turn, bringing heat to the surface of my areolae and nibbling my hard, rumpled little pebbles to tight, quivering numbness.

Pinned and helpless in my bunched satin sheath I can only plead, rigid and inflamed as his eager mouth travels slowly down to my wide-splayed thighs, still sheathed in black nylon, my arching feet still poised in my achingly high heels. With delicate, skin-rippling precision he eases the tip of his tongue under the tight, lacy edge of each stocking-top and licks, leaving a taut, wet trail around the top of each thigh, achingly close to my pulsing centre. With a sound somewhere between a sigh and a snarl he finally lands on my fully exposed, quivering sex and starts to feast.

I shudder with excitement but his angry look quells me to silence as his tongue-tip works deep into my private places, sending heat and shame through me, equally fierce, equally inflaming. Slowly, tasting as he goes, he makes his way back up towards my face and when he leans back over me I see a glint in his eyes as I hear the rip of foil.

Focused and stern, he holds my gaze as he plunges inside. Now my rigid position has one big advantage: I’m trussed so tight his thrusting loins ram hard against my pleasure centre at every plunge.

His expression softens as he pounds. ‘Keep looking at me. I want to see this.’

He watches my pleasure build. Bliss creeps closer but my pleasure must dawn and flower under his steady gaze as he observes my surrender.

Amazingly it works. As his eyes lock ruthlessly on mine, my rapture swells.

‘Here it comes, my pet. Sing to me.’

It’s too much. My climax explodes inside me, more intense than I’ve ever felt before, and I sing. Not singing in the usual sense of the term, more a strangled wail, but the light in his eyes seals my rapture as he laughs deep in his throat as he speeds to his finish.

‘Shit
, Ella, you’re like a miracle.’

In the morning we wake up together. We do this so rarely it takes me a second to adjust. I open my eyes feeling like I’m six and it’s Christmas. Then I feel heat all along my side and a strong, muscular arm draped over my waist and I remember where I am: heaven. Or somewhere close.

His eyes are closed, his amazing, angular face close to mine, his breathing regular and long like he’s deep in sleep. I drink him in for a few moments before it occurs to me this is doubly rare. On the few occasions we’ve fallen asleep in the same bed he’s usually up, shaved, dressed, hired, fired and made a couple of million before I come to. But today, briefly, he’s all mine to cherish and admire.

It’s maybe the closest I’ll get to this man of mystery.

‘You trying the goods? Or just licking windows, as they say in Paris?’

He’s awake.
And a dark glitter along the line of his lashes warns me he’s laughing. He leans on one elbow and grins down at me. ‘Sleepyhead. Turn over.’

I resist, laughing too. ‘They lick
what
in Paris?’

Warm and lazy from his body heat I swivel in his arms and now his vital part prods at my behind, his manhood triumphantly awake and every bit as eager as I am to start the new day with a bang.

He seizes me between the legs and cups my mound. His warm, firm pressure has only one purpose: to make me horny. Like I need to be any hornier than I am right this minute.

‘Windows.
Lécher les vitrine
s. French for window-shopping. And know what?’

At the rip of foil I splay my thighs, my lower belly pulsing already with an aching, persistent throb as I pant with excitement. ‘What?’

I lean back against him as he pulls me close, his middle finger sending a bolt of electricity through me as it slips between my legs and finds my money-spot. Delight makes me gasp as he surges inside, his full length gliding in easily as my pulsing places respond eagerly to his wake-up call and rouse my sleepy belly. My muscles flow around him, drawing in his jutting, arrogant power-tool like I’m quicksand.