The Sex Surrogate (33 page)

“Really,”
he said, smirking.

Apparently,
my choices were : chicken, cow, pig, or green stuff.

“So
is food poisoning a part of the plan or just an added benefit?”

Chase
opened his mouth to answer, when a waitress walked over. She was tall
and
pretty, thick of
thigh but small of waist with huge ice blue eyes, wearing a pair of
hot pink leggings and a t-shirt that said 'Fuck Your Beauty
Standards'. “What do you want?”

I
smiled again at Chase, shaking my head.

He
shrugged. “Two chickens,” he decided for us, handing her
the menus.

Then,
without further conversation, the waitress walked away.

“Truly
a charming little establishment,” I observed, drinking my
water.

“You'll
understand when you try the food,” he assured me. “So,
Ava,” he said, slipping back into his therapist tone
effortlessly and I felt myself tense. “When was the last time
you had a date?”

Oh,
fun.

Let's
pick at some old scabs.

Always
a good way to get me in the mood to flirt with strangers.

“Over
a year ago,” I said simply. “Probably closer to two.”

“How
did that go? Where did you meet? Was it just one date?”

“Online
dating site,” I admitted, feeling a blush creep up. Was there
anything more embarrassing to admit? “We went for dinner. It
was forced and awkward.”

“And?”

“And
we went back to his place.”

“Even
though it felt forced and awkward?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Because
I couldn't bring myself to say no.

I
shrugged. “I figured I would give it another shot.”

“It
didn't go well.”

It
felt like I lost a little piece of myself in his bed. The little
piece that was still willing to
try.

“No.”

“Ava...”
he started in that tone. That tone that was half-scolding because I
wasn't giving him what he wanted.

But
by some wonderful coincidence, the food arrived, dropped down in
front of us loudly. I dug right in, trying to make it clear I wasn't
in the talking mood.

“No
more online dating,” he told me, making my head snap up.

“What?
Why not?”

“Because
it's too easy for you. You get to hide behind your computer screen
and find the match who is the least threatening. You'll slip right
back into your shell. You need to get out and experience things,
Ava.”

“Well,”
I said, uncomfortable. I felt like I was getting a lecture, not a
lesson. “I am experiencing the best chicken I've ever had in my
life,” I said, gesturing toward my plate.

“Ava...”

“I
don't want a lecture, Chase,” I found myself snapping,
surprising myself and Chase, whose brow lifted ever so slightly.

“I
wasn't...”

“Yes,”
I said firmly, “you were. And you were being a condescending
ass about it too.”

“Good
for you,” he said, nodding.

“Good
for me, what?”

“Standing
up for yourself. Even if you're wrong,” he said, smirking.

“I'm
not wrong. I don't know what is up with you tonight, but you're kind
of being a jerk and it's annoying.”

“Annoying?”

“Yes.
Annoying. And frustrating.” I lowered my eyes at him. “Why
are you smiling?”

“A
couple weeks ago, do you think you would have been able to call me an
ass, a jerk, annoying, and frustrating... to my face?”

Well,
shit.

No.

“Probably
not.”

“Definitely
not,” he corrected.

“So...
what? This was some kind of test?”

“Not
really, no.”

“So
you're just in a foul mood for no good reason?”

He
watched me for a long minute, his eyes intense, then looked down at
his good. “I have a good reason, but it is inconsequential.
Anyway,” he said, pushing his plate away, all but uneaten, “we
are going to Chaos from here.”

I
nodded, thinking about the long lines wrapped around the building and
down the street , the thumping music I could hear in my car with
rolled up windows as I passed, the endless parade of long legs in
short skirts.

Yeah,
I was totally going to fit in.

Suddenly,
the chicken felt like lead inside and I pushed my plate away as well,
taking a drink of water, then looking up at Chase. “I'm ready
when you are.”

He
nodded, throwing money on the table, and getting up.

Ten
minutes later, we were walking up to Chaos.

And
I mean walking up to it. Passing all the people who had probably been
on line for an hour, the girls dancing around and rubbing their bare
arms to try to fend off the cold. Chase walked me right up to the
doorman, saying something close to his ear, and then we were let in.
Just like that.

The
inside was packed. Immediately inside and downward was a dance floor
and to both sides of the room were staircases that led up, one open
to the public and leading to a bar, one private with a security guard
at the bottom.

I
was led to the private one, the security guard inclining his head to
Chase and offering me a small smile as I moved past him to climb the
steps. The music was thumping so hard, I could feel it through the
soles of my feet and upward.

The
area in the private lounge was spacious and, blessedly, not crowded.
A few men sat at tables with several attractive (no doubt considering
themselves lucky) women accompanying them. Chase led me to the bar,
ordering a scotch for himself and a martini for me. Then I was
instructed to sit at the bar and wait.

For
what... I wasn't told.

So,
I sat and waited.

Listening
to the music, ignoring the eye contact some guy at the far end of the
bar was trying to give me.

Then
Chase slid in beside me, turning in his seat so his legs blocked me
in. “Hi,” he said simply and I felt my brows drawing
together.

“Hi...”
I said back, eyeing him.

“My
name's Chase,” he said, holding out his hand.

Oh.

So
we were doing that.

Okay.

I
could play along.

Sort
of.

“I'm
Alexandra Feodorovna,” I said, smiling sweetly.

Chase's
eyes flashed for a second, a smile tugging at his lips. Then, without
missing a beat, he nodded, “You look damn good for someone who
died by firing squad almost a hundred years ago.”

“I
moisturize,” I nodded and he burst out laughing.

“This
isn't going to work if you don't take it seriously,” he said
after a minute.

“Sorry.
It just... feels weird.”

“What
does? Flirting with me? Baby, I've been inside you.”

Oh,

lord

Jesus.

Okay.

My
lady bits needed to give it a rest. One sentence from him and I felt
like I was ready to drag him into the bathroom and have my way with
him.

“Sorry,”
he smirked, “I didn't mean to get you all hot and bothered.”

“I'm
not,” I insisted, trying to save at least a shred of my pride.

“Really?”
he asked, his hand landing really high up on my thigh. “I
could... check that out for you. Just to make sure.”

I
really,
really
wanted him to check.

And,
damn him, he knew it.

His
fingers toyed with the hem of my skirt which was indecently high when
I was sitting down. One of his fingers slipped upward and almost made
contact with my panties.

I
nearly fell off the seat.

“Okay,”
he said, sitting back, shaking his head like he was trying to clear
it. “Sorry. I'll stop.”

“I
don't want you to stop.”

Oh,
my god.

I
didn't sat that.

No
way.

His
eyes darkened, leaning closer, his mouth by my ear. “Believe
me, babe, I don't want to stop either. I want to drag you out of
here, throw you into my car, and watch you ride me until you're
screaming my name.”

Okay.

Wow.

I
pressed my thighs together hard, taking a deep breath.

“But
I can't do that. Tonight, you aren't mine to have.”

Right.

I
was a public fucking commodity.

I
sat up straight, moving away from him.

And
I was never really his. Not the way I wanted to be.

Game
face on.

“Okay.
So, what now? You're leaving?”

“No.
I'll be here. If you need me, come get me. Or call me. I'll keep an
eye on you.”

So
much for my flirt training.

“If
someone is really bothering you...”

“I
got it, Chase.”

“Ava...”

I
stood up, grabbing my martini. “I said I got it,” I said,
walking over to the railing and looking down at the dance floor
below, bodies writhing. Women in small circles, dancing sexually to
attract the attention of men, whether they would admit it or not.
Then men and women, their bodies moving together like an archaic
mating ritual. The entire building was oozing sex.

From
the corner of my eye, I could see Chase. He had moved to the far end
of the bar, swirling his drink, occasionally glancing my way.

It
wasn't long until I felt someone move in beside me, blocking out my
view of Chase. I looked upward, taking in the fitted blue suit, the
white shirt, the dark blue striped tie, then finally his face. He was
good looking. Tall. Towering over me even in my heels. His face was
broad of jaw with a strong forehead, with short dirty blonde hair,
and kind brown eyes.

“You
with that guy?” he asked, tilting his head in Chase's
direction.

Technically,
yes.

But,
at the same time, completely and utterly... no.

“No,”
I said, giving him, what I hoped was, a charming smile.

“So
I can ask you to dance?”

Oh,
god.

Not
dancing.

Anything
but dancing.

“Sure,”
I smiled, taking Shay's advice and touching his hand which was next
to mine on the railing. I brought my drink up and drained it, hoping
some of the liquid bravery would hit me before we got to the dance
floor.

“I'm
Trip, by the way. I know,” he said, smiling easily, “it's
a ridiculous name.”

“I'm
Ava,” I supplied, feeling the knot in my belly loosen a little.
It wasn't that bad. If that was all there was to flirting, I could
totally handle it.

I
ducked my head as I turned, not wanting to make eye contact with
Chase for numerous reasons as Trip put a hand on my hip, steering me
through the lounge and toward the stairs.

We
pushed through the edge of the crowd until we were somewhere near the
center and, unable to help myself, I lifted my head to look back
toward the lounge. Just as another woman, blonde, pretty, breasts all
but spilling out of her dress, walked up to Chase, placing a hand on
his shoulder and whispering in his ear. Chase turned, tilting his
head up toward her, and smiled a megawatt smile I had only gotten to
see less than a handful of times.