He reaches out and takes my hand, bringing the back of it to his lips as his eyes stay on mine. “Renate, I’ve let people tell me who I can and can’t be, or who I can and can’t date for a long time. It’s taken me a while, but I’m beginning to learn that I need to stop giving a fuck what people expect of me. Especially people I don’t care about. We’re adults, we can do whatever we want.”
“But the internet will find out and Idocare what people expect of me. I’m a teacher, Chase! I teach children. It’s not appropriate and I?—”
“And you’re jumping fifty steps ahead, sunshine. Relax, we’re only getting to know each other, and I’m sure as hell not about to tell anyone.”
He cups my face in his large hands before leaning down to kiss me. This time, it’s not a taste, it’s not tentative or nervous either. This is deep and serious—more serious than his words let on.
“Do you wanna get out of here?” he whispers against my lips. I nod, still in a daze. He takes my hand, leading me down the stairs and through the winding hallways that have me turned around. We both laugh when he realizes he’s as lost as I am, but we’ve stumbled into an empty room.
He pins me against a wall and we’re kissing again, desperate, bordering on depraved as his hand slides up the slit in my skirt. The sound of someone laughing too loudly pulls us back to reality, and we giggle as we race the other way. I can’t help but think that I’d have no problem being lost with him anywhere.
He finds the exit, but before going through the door, he spins around and backs me into the same wall I had him against earlier. His powerful arms cage me in, although I’m short enough to slip under them if I wanted. I don’t. He licks his lips and smirks. “I don’t want to take you home yet. Bar or club?”
“Club. I want to dance with you for real.” His mouth slides over mine, teasing without kissing. In that instant, I know exactly how this night will end. We’ll fuck. It will be fun and just what we need to get this out of our system, but that’s all it will be.
Tonight will be the fairytale I remember for the rest of my life. The night I got to be the princess at the ball. Morning will come, the fancy car will become a pumpkin, and Chase will be a memory I’ll cherish forever while he goes back to his palace and a life I could never be a part of.
But for now, he’s right. I’m not ready for it to end.
* * *
Two hours later, we’re both exhausted and laughing at stupid jokes as we fall into a booth in the VIP section of whatever club we’re at. I’ve never been here before, but Chase knows his way around. The giant security guy who could be a pro wrestler keeps the curious away from the area as we make out like teenagers. I grab for the bottle of water on the table, downing half of it before handing it to Chase. As he drinks, I check around before I climb into his lap, straddling him. The empty bottle falls next to us somewhere as I grab his face and crash against his lips while I grind against him. His hands slide up my thighs, squeezing my ass as he moans into my mouth. I love a man who makes noise during sex.
I stop, but instead of pulling away, I move my mouth over to his ear. “Chase, are you a good boy or a bad boy?” I ask before I take his earlobe between my teeth and gently bite down. He grabs my hips, pressing his fingers into my skin and leaving bruises that I’ll remember him by tomorrow. He rocks me back and forth on the hard bulge in his pants, and the friction feels sublime.
“I’ll be whatever the fuck you want me to be. Just let me be inside you?”
“Not here, Chase.” I lean back, letting my finger drag down the buttons on his black shirt. “Take me to bed.”
I squeal when he stands up, literally taking me with him. He’s staring at me again with that look that says there’s no music, no people, no club—only us. He’s about to carry me out, but I make him put me down. So far, we’ve evaded the paparazzi and gawkers, but that’s harder to do when he’s drawing attention to us.
We’re almost to the stairs when he pulls me back for another deep kiss, his hand cupping my breast and squeezing. I am fucking soaked for this man, and I can’t wait to get him in bed. If he had his choice, we wouldn’t wait for the bed.
“Fuck, you’re delicious, like fucking sunshine,” he slurs.
“You can’t drive. You’re drunk.”
“Shit, yeah, you’re right.” He straightens up and gives me a dopey smile. “I can get us a ride share, or a hotel, I guess.”
“Or you could give me your keys.” I narrow my eyes, expecting him to balk at the idea of me driving his Jag like most men would. He pulls the valet ticket out of his wallet and hands it to me like it’s no big deal. He doesn’t even ask for the keys when we get to the car, just holds the door open for me and goes to the passenger side like this is standard for him.
This car is worth more than my damn salary and he’s trusting me with it after one night of dancing and magic?
“Fucking valet bullshit,” he mumbles as he gets in, immediately leaning over and kissing me again. His tongue slides over mine and he whimpers. He fucking whimpers! His hand snakes up my leg and the tip of his finger rubs against me. “If we were in a parking spot, I’d have my mouth between your fucking legs right now. God, you’re beautiful.”
“Okay, drunky. I gotta drive now before they start to get pissy. And I can’t do that with your hands all over me.”
“Okay.” He pretends to grumble as he sits back and smiles at me with a big, dumb, gleeful grin. He’s far too adorable for this world. “Let’s go home. My place. I’ve got all kinds of shit at the house to keep us busy all night. Pool table, pool, dogs. The only thing missing is you.”
I should say no. I mean, I haven’t known him for more than a few hours, but I knew the second we kissed, I would go home with him. Why shouldn’t I have a little fun? Like he said, we’re adults. “Alright, but only for the dogs.”
“The dogs? Well, what if I get on my hands and knees for you, sunshine? Maybe wear a little collar and wag my ass, all for you.”
“Careful, you’re writing checks that your dick isn’t going to cash when you’re this drunk.”
He slumps his shoulders and turns away, staring out the window. He isn’t angry, but I’m not sure, and looks can be deceiving. I don’t know him. I don’t know his demons. I don’t know what makes him tick or if he’s going to turn into a Jekyll and Hyde situation. For all I know, he takes women home to brutally murder them before burying them in the backyard or feeding them to his dogs. It’s Los Angeles. Anything is possible.
I check the clock and see it’s already after midnight. Even if I don’t have school tomorrow, I shouldn’t be watching the sunrise with Chase Cooper. But god, do I want to.
