Chad's Chase (Loving All Wrong Book 2) (10 page)

He appeared so…kingly. Like he owned the damn universe.

It took a minute for my eyes to adjust, as the Chill Room was all red. Red walls with red, suede sofa banquette running along the walls, red carpeting and red lighting. And at a more intimate level, the music volume was lower than the rest of the club.

When my eyes adjusted to the all-red theme, I closed the door behind me. Quietly.

“Hello, Blood.” His voice was so fucking deceiving with its smooth, soothing, caressing waves. He was a monster. And a monster had no business sounding like that.

So unfair.

“You wanted to see me?” I said, skipping the fake pleasantries.

His smile broke through the red glow. White and blinding. And it reminded me of a slim sliver of light I used to chase in the dark when I was younger and imprisoned.

That white smile of his was…promising. It moved something inside me. It whispered words to my soul in a language my mind didn’t understand.

“You made me an offer. You forgot?”

There were things happening in my body now. Things only women made me feel. Not men. Men made me feel nothing but disgust.

But just like that night in the parking lot, I was being undermined and overpowered by these…things. Reason and purpose were being shoved out the back door, while insanity and irrationality snuck right in.

No. Fuck. No.

“That offer has long since expired.”

It wasn’t. That offer was never a part of my act; it was never fake. That offer was very real when I made it. An expiration date? What expiration date?

But it would be stupid of me to throw caution—and my freedom—out the door just to get fucked by the first and only man I’ve ever desired.

Head tilted to the side, that damned smile still on his face, he said, “Is it?”

“It very much is.” I turned to leave. “Now, if that’s all you called me here for, I’m just gonna g—”

He was faster than me. Like a vampire with super-speed, he was at the door before I could even open it. “Renew it,” he ordered.

My heart thudded. Once. Everything on pause. “What?”

“Renew the offer.”

I stared up at him. In this darkened red glow, his eyes seemed deadlier, his face harder, more frightening.

Beautifully frightening.

“No.”

Shoving his chest in my face, he brushed the back of his knuckles along my cheek. A touch so soft, so gentle, a sigh betrayed me, and my eyes fluttered closed.

I’ve never had a man touch me this gently before. The man who used to touch me, take me, was rough, abusive. He called me horrible names and yanked my hair. He bit into my skin and left me with temporary marks. Something to remember him by, he used to say.

Gentle, no. He was never gentle. Soft, no. He never was.

When I opened my eyes, Chad was watching me.

His eyes were no longer threatening, but warm. His face no longer frightening, but sympathetic, like he could somehow see my shame.

Irritated by this, I knocked his hand away from my face and tried to land him a punch with the other hand. But he caught my fist in his palm. Firm and easy. My other hand balled in a fist and swung up to punch the side of his head. And he caught that, too. Swift and easy.

Both my fists in his palms, I bent my right foot and aimed to knee him in the groin. But as smooth as the east winds, he shifted, and I missed.

That’s when I realized he’d
let
me beat him in the parking lot. Because I was no match for him. Silly me.

Crossing my forearms like a pirate’s sign, he spun me around and dragged me back against him, so my back was to his chest.

By this time, my chest was rising and falling in short heaves. But it wasn’t from the fight, and it wasn’t from fright. It was from want, need. It was because his body was so hard and hot behind mine. It was because he had an amazing scent. A mixture of male and musk, inevitability and destiny, love and war, answers and hopes. That scent, his scent, was spellbinding, convincing, coaxing.

And I sighed, letting my body relax, soaking it all up.

Chad hummed in approval, his chest vibrating with the sound. Uncrossing my arms, he brought them up and locked them around his neck.

As he trailed his fingers down my sides, I moaned and pushed back against him, feeling his erection, hard and probing.

I was so consumed. My mind foggy. Nothing but lust, desire and need. The dagger in my boot being a faraway reminder that I shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t want this. That this was not the purpose of my being here.

But reason was hiding. Irrationality was upfront and personal. And I wasn’t going to stop.

In this moment, I wanted Chadrick Niiveux. Not dead, but alive. As alive as his cock behind me.

He was soft, and tender. And soft and tender was what I craved. His touches weren’t anything like I thought they would’ve been. His touches were different. They changed me. They changed my thoughts, my dreams. All I wanted to do was lose myself in him.

Lips dropping to my ear, his hot breath caressed my lobe as he said, “Renew the offer, Blood.”

And I did. Nodding easily, I told him, “Renewed.”

Before the word was fully out of my mouth, he spun me around and collided his hard, dissolute lips with mine.

Looping my hands up around his neck again, I pushed up against him and freely opened my mouth, letting him in.

Invited in, he entered, and roamed. Searched. Found. Stole. Invited in, he claimed, and owned.

This felt good. So good. So much better than in the parking lot. So much better than any other kisses I’ve ever had. This was the ultimate. This topped all. And all I could think was:
I want more
. So much more.

As if he could read my mind, Chad broke the kiss—much to my dismay—and swept me up off the ground. He carried me over to the sofa banquette and deposited me on my back, crowding down over me in the same flow. In no time, our lips were connected again.

His movements were sure and confident, like he knew just how badly I wanted him. Like he knew…
everything
.

Reaching a hand behind my neck, he tugged the strings of my costume bra and undid the knot. To help him get rid of it completely, I arched up my back and he reached behind me again and pulled the strings there, too, tossing the bra aside.

My nipples were hard and hot, like lava rock.

With hooded eyes, Chad studied my breasts for several heartbeats before reaching up to cup them in his hands, his thumbs and forefingers twisting my pink nipples. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

I didn’t know what to say to that except, “You’re gonna hurt me?”

Movements paused, he raised his eyes to mine, and, for a while, we just stared at each other.

I was patient for his answer. I needed to know this would feel good. I needed to know he wouldn’t hurt me, force me, or bruise me like Mr. D used to. I needed to know I could trust him…with my body.

“Never,” he said at last. And this was an answer I knew wasn’t too late to be true. Because I
felt
every bit of truth and promise behind it.

Never
, he promised.

I
would, though. Oh, how I would hurt him.

Nonetheless, he didn’t return the question, so there was no need for me to lie to his face and promise him I wouldn’t hurt him either.

Squirming from the heavy ache between my thighs, I undulated beneath him, arching up, begging him to put his mouth on me.

Obliging, he lowered his head and sucked a nipple into that sinful mouth of his. And I let out a sound somewhere between a growl, a grunt, and a groan. Far from ladylike.

This moment was… I could not believe I was willingly giving myself over to a
man
. How did this happen? I came here to assassinate this man, and here I was writhing hotly beneath him like some desperate slutbag.

Skillfully, his tongue made swirls around my nipple, while his hand kneaded the other. But I wanted more. Just…more. My mind was like a blank slate, with only one word floating around.

More.

More.

Heatedly possessed, I reached between us and began undoing his shirt buttons with a feverish impatience. To help me out, he drew up and doffed the shirt, tossing it in the same direction as my costume bra.

Hard, defined, and deeply inked, his chest left me with my mouth hanging. Tattoos I couldn’t make out in the dark crept around from his back onto his abdomen, some crawling down both his arms. I tried to avoid looking at the silver chain around his neck. My mother had given it to him. And it’d become a part of his skin; he never took it off. Ever.

I wanted to touch his pectorals, but he didn’t give me the chance to admire him as he lowered back down and plunged his tongue in my mouth. Kissing me harder this time.

With ginger fingers, I reached up and touched his pectorals. He felt good. His skin taut and warm. Getting braver, I opened my palms and smoothed them down to his abs.

Being like this with a male, so sensual, was all new for me. Why did it feel so damn good to touch him?

Chad snuck his hand down my costume bottom, finding me wet and eager.

A moaned slipped from my mouth and straight into his when his long fingers slid back and forth in experienced and adept motions over my swollen, slippery clit.

“So fucking ready for me,” he hissed against my lips, a flow of air rushing through his nostrils.

Wasn’t so sure about that. My body might be ready yeah, but my mind wasn’t. Because as we drew closer, as our bodies got hotter, as much as I
needed
this, I could feel the panic coming on.

Slow and deliberate, Chad slid a finger inside me and I slipped into another world. His finger was longer, thicker, more stimulating than a woman’s. His finger was
there,
so gentle, stroking me in no rush, but taking his delicate time to make me
feel
.

Then it was gone, and he was pushing up onto his knees. Feeling cold at the loss of his big, warm body shielding over mine, I shifted a little, and focused to see he was just undoing his belt buckle. Not abandoning me. In no hurry, at his own pace, he undid his pants and shoved them down his hips.

Apparently he wasn’t an undergarment kind of man, because he was commando as his cock stood erect; long, thick, and curved towards his abdomen. And he was hairless in this area. Completely clean-shaven. A gasp escaped me. I couldn’t help it, because, hell, could he get any hotter?

A stark contrast to the big, disgusting Mr. D who I was forced to take inside me.

Chad’s cock was larger, stiffer, with veins trailing in crooked lines up to the underside of his very red head—red and shiny and…suckable.

This was such a different experience. So different. His cock didn’t repulse me, didn’t make me feel afraid. Actually, I was giddy to know what it felt like.

Reaching out, I touched it with tentative fingers. It was so hard, yet soft. So venous, yet smooth.

“You like it?” he asked, a sprinkle of amusement in his voice. No doubt amused at how I was staring at the thing like it was something magical.

To show him how much I liked it, I braced up on my elbows and licked his engorged red head, resisting the urge to suck the whole thing in my mouth.

Taking a condom from his pocket, he eyed me scrutinizingly, then asked, “You ever done that before?”

No I haven’t.
Have I sucked a lot of pussies? Yep. Have I ever sucked a cock? Nope.

This was new, Chaddy Chad. All new
.

Lying back down, I replied, barely a badass, “No questions allowed,
boss
.”

Heeding, with no more words, he just watched me as he tore the packet open and rolled on the condom, smooth and leisurely. As though he came to some sort of conclusion, his eyes narrowed a little as he asked, “How many men have you ever been with, Blood?”

One. And it was by force. Always by force.

“I’m a damn stripper. Why don’t you take a guess?” I snapped. “And I said easy on the fucking questions. You’re ruining the mood.”

“You shouldn’t swear.”

Says the cold-blooded murderer
. “Fuck me.”

“I will.”


Now
.”

Still with the wordless watching, the studying, his face was so goddamn unreadable it was maddening.

Grasping his cock, he fixed it at my core, then paused and locked our eyes, just in time to catch me sucking in a short, panicky breath.

I wanted this. I really did. But I was scared to bits and pieces, and fighting hard not to let Chad’s shrewd eyes discover this. Folding my lips, I tried to mask it off, meeting his stare square on.

He said, “You’re a tough girl, Blood, and you got a lot of talk. But I can see right through your veneer.”—He pushed in an inch, and I winced.—”I’m gonna let you own me tonight. I’ll start slow, and you’ll control how it goes from there. The increments, the momentum, it’s all your call, okay? So you don’t have to be afraid.”

“Your instincts are off. I’m not afraid,” I lied.

But he didn’t call me out on the fib, he just inched into me, little by little. And I held my breath, concentrating on the feel of him filling me.

Nothing like with Mr. D. No, that man would’ve rammed into me with a great force. Tear me open in pain more than pleasure.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried shutting out all the memories of the past, and focused on this new, addictive feeling. This so good, so different feeling.

Filling me to the capacity, Chad paused and commanded, “Open your eyes, Blood. Look and see that it’s
me
. It’s no one from your past. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

But I kept them closed, because I knew who he was. And he
was
someone from my past. And he
did
hurt me once. He took everything from me. And here I was letting him fuck me. How fucking sick was this?

Yet I couldn’t talk sense into my brain. This man consumed me. He made me want more…more of everything.

“Blood, open your eyes, look at me, and believe me.”

This time, I did. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, and once again, I
felt
the truth. He wasn’t lying. He wouldn’t hurt me.

But it didn’t matter, because
I
would hurt him.

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