Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance (35 page)

Chapter Thirteen

"Wait,
what?" My flight leaves in the morning.  I can't just cancel it, can I? 
My life is back at home in a different country.

"Just
a little longer.  Maybe a week or two?  I don't want you to leave right
now."  His hand slips up along my neck, causing a wash of goose bumps to
rise along my skin, before he pushes it up into my hair.  "I'd like to
give us more time.  See where this can go."

His
fingers are rubbing my skull gently, distracting me with their warmth.  Maybe
that was his ploy to get me to agree to his crazy suggestion.  "I can't
just... I have a ticket."  My protest sounds lame, even to me.

"You
can change it, cancel it.  Don't worry about what it costs."  His eyes are
fixated on mine and I can see the seriousness behind them.  "Stay with me,
Lila." 

"I...
I don't know..."  I want to, I know right away that I want to.  But it
seems so sudden, so spur of the moment.  We haven't talked about this at all,
we just both knew I was leaving tomorrow.  That this was just a fling that
wasn't going to last.  A rebound from Harrison.  Except it doesn't feel like a
rebound.  It feels like a lot more than a rebound.

"Think
about it," he pleads.  "Just consider it."

I
nod and turn to look out the window as the car continues through Vegas back
streets on its way back to the hotel.  Chase's hand continues to lightly run
through my hair.  It would feel so relaxing if I wasn't so tense all of a
sudden.  Chase's life is so unlike anything I'm used to.  He has millions of
dollars.  He lives in a hotel and owns a huge house that he never spends any
time in.  He goes to fancy clubs and has gorgeous, albeit annoying,
ex-girlfriends.  People walk up to him randomly whenever he's out in public and
gush over him, asking for his autograph or tips on playing poker. 

I'm
used to hanging around in my apartment with Evelyn, wearing sweat pants and
trying to figure out how I'm going to make next month's rent. 

I
live in a city that's cold six months of the year, and Chase lives in the
desert.

We
couldn't be more different.

And
yet, spending time with him makes me feel so much better about myself than I
ever felt with Harry.  Chase compliments me, and defers his own needs and
desires when they conflict with mine.  He gave up his trip to LA, he brought me
to his house even though it clearly made him uncomfortable, those were both
things I couldn't imagine Harry doing.  Harrison claimed our trip to Vegas
would be good for our relationship, and convinced me to spend money I really
couldn't afford getting here.  Almost as soon as we landed he did nothing but
gamble at the poker tables, completely ignoring me other than expecting me to
be his cheerleader when he won a big pot.  And then he put me up as collateral
in a game, gambling me away as if I meant no more to him than a poker chip.  I
couldn't imagine Chase ever doing that.

The
car rolled to a stop in front of the casino entrance of Chase's hotel, and the
driver came around to open the door.  The Vegas sun caused me to squint once my
eyes were no longer protected by the tinted glass.

"Do
you want my glasses?" Chase asks, pulling his ever present shades from his
head and offering them to me.

I
shake my head.  Without his glasses he is more likely to be recognized and I
just want to get up to his room as quickly as possible.

We're
both quiet in the elevator.  I'm still thinking about what I should do
tomorrow, but I have no idea what's on Chase's mind.  Is he mad at me for not
saying yes immediately?

As
soon as his hotel room door closes behind us my phone beeps with another message. 
I sigh, wondering how long it will take Harry to get the hint that we're done. 
I glance down at my purse quickly, but then back up to Chase.

"Go
ahead," he smiles, shrugging.  "I have to change anyway.  When you're
done, figure out what movie you want to watch."

"Okay,"
I agree.  He doesn't seem upset, but it seems like plans of our naughty
negotiations and spending the night naked have been forgotten.  Or is that
proof that he's upset?  Would he really forget something like that?  Does he
think I'm mad at him for asking me to stay?

I'm
confused, unsure about everything.  When my phone beeps again, I pull it from
my purse, annoyed.  The text messages aren't from Harrison, though.  They're
from Evelyn.

3:04
PM Evelyn: Hey, did you know Chase has over 200,000 twitter followers?

3:05
PM Evelyn: I just started following him.  Have you seen his latest tweet?  Is
that you he's talking about?

Confused,
I switch over to my twitter app.  I'm not a huge user, but I have an account
and follow a few actors and comedians.  I never tweet anything myself, though. 

I
search for Chase Anderson and find him immediately.  It's true, he has 223,345
followers.  There's a picture of him wearing his usual sunglasses with a big
smile on his face that I suspect is forced for the camera.  I grin as I imagine
him sitting in a photo session as his publicist tries to convince him that a
big smile would be good for his image.  I click through to his tweets to see
what he last wrote.

Chase
Anderson @chaseanderson - 5h

Skipping
the tourney in LA, found something incredibly better than poker to spend my
time on - or maybe I should say "someone" incredible...

He
wrote that tweet five hours ago, when I was still sleeping in his bed. 

My
phone beeps again.

3:09
PM Evelyn: So?  Is that you?  Tell me that's you!  Don't forget that you
promised to fill me in when you get home tomorrow!

Tomorrow. 
Why am I even contemplating going back tomorrow?  What's waiting for me besides
a friend desperate for gossip? 

3:10
PM Lila: About that, you might have to wait a bit longer to hear the details. 
I'm changing my flight.  Not sure when I'll be back but yes.  It's me.

I
know Evelyn will be disappointed that I'm not coming back, but she'll
understand.  I turn off the sound on my phone so that I won't be disturbed by
any more messages.

3:11
PM Lila: I gotta run now, but we'll talk soon, I promise!  Luv ya!

I
drop my phone back into my purse and then reach up and slip my shirt off,
followed by my bra, before stepping out of my pants as well. 
"Chase?" I call out.  He answers me, still in the other room.

"I
believe you and I had a plan for the rest of the day, and the movie was only
part of it..."

Chapter Fourteen

After
a bit of playful negotiation, Chase agrees that it's only fair for him to be
naked as well, and an hour later the two of us are lying on his bed, amongst a
heap of sweaty sheets.

"You
hungry for dinner yet?" he asks, pushing himself up onto an elbow to look
down at me. 

"Why? 
Did you decide to give the waiter a show after all?"  I lift up onto both
of my elbows as well and stare down his chiseled body to his spent cock.  I
wonder how long it'll take for that to become useful again? 

"Hmm,
I was thinking that when they deliver it I could at least put on a robe."

"I
don't know," I say, shaking my head.  "I don't remember that being
called out in our arrangement."

"Does
that mean we have to go back to the bargaining table?"

"Well,
I'm just not sure why I would agree to reopen negotiations after everything has
been settled to my satisfaction."  I smile at him, running a finger along
the lines of his hard abs.  How much time does he spend in the gym, anyway?

Chase
reaches down, pressing a hand against my thigh and spreading my legs.  "I
don't know, I think I have an idea about how to get you to
reopen
them..."  He slides down the bed, his strong hand still holding onto my
upper thigh as his thumb brushes against my still moist folds.

"Wait
a minute," I protest, "that's not fair, that's not what we were
talking about reopening."

His
lips kiss my thigh, right below where his hand is and then higher as he stops
holding me open.  His gamble pays off when I don't close my legs on his head. 
He kisses me again, this time a little bit higher.  "Okay, you're right,
maybe I should stop then."  One more kiss just below my aching core and he
lifts his head up to look at me.

"Well
hold on," I say, almost finding it hard to catch a breath.  "No one
said you should just walk away from the negotiation table.  I'd like to see where
your current strategy is headed."

"Ah,
I thought you might."

Now
his head dips down again and there's no more teasing.  His lips brush against
me right before I feel his hot tongue invade my pussy.  I arch my back against
his bed and moan.

"Fuck
you taste so good," comes his muffled voice.  His hands grab one of my
legs and slip it up and over his shoulder, giving him deeper access to my
center.  This time I scream as he pushes his tongue deeper inside of me. 
Chase's hands are holding me by the waist, pulling me hard against his face.

"My
clit," I pant.  "Don't forget my clit."

He
makes a satisfied noise as he pulls his tongue from me and drags it slowly up
to spin circles around the center of my pleasure.  My body shivers with
excitement as the stimulation grows to an almost unbearable level.  No one has
ever made me come so hard or so fast as Chase Anderson.

"Fuck..."
I practically yell the word, dragging it out into its own sentence as Chase's
tongue draws a powerful orgasm out of my body.

"You
win," I say after catching my breath.  Chase is using one of my thighs as
a pillow and running his fingers lightly up and down my other leg.  "You
can wear a robe when you answer the door.  I'm hungry all of a sudden."

Chase
laughs as he rolls out of bed.  "I'll find the menu."

By
the time I wake up the next morning it's after ten, which is still better than
the almost noon of the day before.  This time Chase is still next to me, still
drained from a long night of fluid loss.  We really only managed to watch half
of a movie.  Apparently spending the whole night naked turned out to be very
distracting for both of us, and neither of us could concentrate on the
television. 

Parched,
I push myself out of bed and walk into the other room to get a bottle of water
from the mini fridge.  After a long drink I sit down on the couch, pulling my
phone out of my purse to see if Evelyn had anything else to say after I left
the conversation last night.

Turns
out she did, but most of those messages were buried under an avalanche of
missed calls and other texts from Harrison who was frantically trying to reach
me when he noticed I didn't show up for the flight.  I wince at that.  I should
have probably warned him I wasn't going back.  The flight was due to leave at
ten so he was already in the air and who knows what he was thinking.  Still,
he's been an asshole and I'm kind of happy he's worried about me.  Serves him
right.

I
skip his messages for now and scroll through Evelyn's.  She wasn't happy that I
wasn't coming home either, but she totally understood and sounded a bit
jealous.  She made sure to note numerous times that she expected a complete
blow by blow when I got home, and the fact that he's tweeting about me and I'm
skipping my flight for him means that she's not going to accept any excuse from
me that there is nothing to tell.  I just shake my head and smile, imagining
the things I could tell her when I got home.

It
surprises me that Harrison didn't call Evelyn to ask if she'd heard from me, so
I jump back over his messages to see if he mentions doing that.  If he did, I
can stop feeling guilty about not telling him.  Despite how he treated me and
the fact that I'm sort of happy to hear that he seems to be genuinely worried
about my safety, I do feel bad that I completely forgot to let him know that I
wouldn't be there today. 

I
don't see anything in any of his texts to indicate that he thought of talking
to Evelyn, so I switch over to the voicemails he left.  He does sound worried,
making me feel even more guilty, until I get to the last one where he mentions
his intention to call my parents as soon as he lands to find out if they had
heard from me.  Of course he wouldn't call them before he got on the plane. 
Too cheap to pay the long distance charges on his cell phone.  So maybe he
wasn't quite as concerned as I thought.

Still,
if he does call my parents they are liable to do something crazy like contact
the US embassy or something, so I decide to call him back to at least let him
know I'm still alive.  Besides, with him already on the plane I at least won't
have to actually talk to him directly.  I certainly want to avoid the real
reason I'm staying.  That's still not a conversation with him that I'm ready to
have.

It
takes me a minute to mentally compose what I'm going to say.  I need something
that sounds clear and final, but without giving away too much.  I don't really
want to lie to him, he'll find out about Chase eventually, but I don't really
want to tell him about us just yet either.  I have the advantage in being able
to leave it as a message and not have to worry about him peppering me with
questions.  I'm not a great liar.

I
dial his cell, trying to keep the rough monologue in my head and hoping I won't
sound like a fumbling idiot trying to dance around the most important part of
the story. 

It
only rings once.

"Hello? 
Lila?  Where the hell are you?" comes Harry's unrecorded voice.

Shit.