Trust (2 page)

"I'm
not sleeping with you," I say as I step inside the doorway of Chase's
penthouse suite.  It's actually the second time I've said that to him, although
the first time I remember there being more conviction behind the words.  It
would be easier if he wasn't so gorgeous.  And I wasn't so angry.

The first
time had been in the elevator on the ride up.  It was right after I wondered
how crazy I was to be alone with this handsome stranger who had essentially just
won me in a poker game, and right before two young guys got on and acted like
they were in the presence of greatness.  What the fuck was that all about,
anyway?  They knew his name and even asked him to sign the back of a receipt
they had on them.  Said they were big fans.  Of what, exactly?

Chase's
hotel room is bigger than my apartment back home, and clearly the decorating
budget greatly eclipsed the $500 that my roommate and I had scraped together. 

The room
Harry and I were staying in had a bed and a desk that were fighting for space
next to a small window.  This room doesn't even have a bed or a desk.  Those
items must be in one of the other rooms which branch off from here.  The only
things in this room are couches, carpets and paintings which face a big flat
screen television on one wall and curtains lining the edge of another.

Chase is
tapping on a touchscreen pad on an end table, and suddenly the curtains begin
to pull themselves back to reveal a breathtaking view.

"Wow,"
I breathe.  I can't help but be impressed with the sight and take a few steps
toward it.  The windows are floor to ceiling and we're looking out over the
brightly lit Las Vegas strip.  The MGM Grand and Monte Carlo hotels are
closest, but I can also see the sprawling City Center down below.

"I
never get tired of seeing this."

I jump at
the sound of his voice which is close enough to my ear that I can feel the
hotness of his breath as he stands behind me.  He's closer than he should be. 
Closer than he needs to be.  I'm surprised that I don't have an overwhelming
urge to step away.  I should.  Harrison and I haven't even been split for half
an hour. 

Truth is,
things haven't been working for a while.  This trip was against my better
judgment, but he argued that it would be good for us to get away.  That it
would bring us closer together.  It was obviously just an excuse for him to go
and feed his addiction.  Things had been headed in this direction for a while. 
I don't even remember the last time he and I had sex.  Even longer since we've
made love.

"Would
you like a drink..." he hangs the sentence in midair, as if waiting for me
to fill something in. 

I turn to
look at him, his blue eyes probing into me immediately as he waits.  I suddenly
feel my cheeks redden as I realize what he's waiting for.

"Lila,"
I finally say.  Shit.  I haven't even told this guy my name.  Where is my head
tonight?

"Beautiful,"
he smiles.  His teeth are straight and white, a traditional Colgate smile.  Is
there nothing about this guy that isn't perfect?  Blond, blue eyed, perfect
teeth, apparently rich and possibly famous.  What the hell was he thinking
trying to buy me in a card game?  Or win me. 

Is there a
difference?

"Uh,
I'm not sure if that's a good idea.  I was just thinking maybe I should
go."  I wasn't thinking anything of the sort, but that's what I should be
thinking.  He's still closer than he needs to be.  Close enough that I can feel
the heat from his body caress mine.

He raises
an eyebrow.  "Where?"

Is it that
obvious that I have nowhere to go? 

"You're
from out of town, right?"  He shrugs as I nod.  "Tourists are obvious
sometimes.  But I assume you've been staying with... your boyfriend,
right?"

I nod
again.  He has a casual arrogance, like he knows everything already.  Problem
is, he's dead on so far.  He seems to know a lot more about me than I know
about him.  Although now that I've been staring at his face it is starting to
seem vaguely familiar.  Certainly not Hollywood A list familiar, but I've seen
him somewhere.

"You
aren't going to go back to him, are you?  After all, he did gamble you away in
a poker game."

"I
recall you being part of that wager," I snap back.  I'm not defending
Harrison, but I feel sensitive about it.  Embarrassed, really.  I take a step
back, putting some distance between us.  I decide to push my anger back at
him.  "Do you often make bets to win girls?"

Chase
purses his lips as his eyes flit across the newly created gap between our
bodies.  "I make a living taking advantage of situations where I know I have
an edge.  To do that you have to know the value of things, and only take risks
with something you can afford, or are willing to lose - generally with the
knowledge that what you have to gain is far greater than what you've put at
risk. 

"Your
boyfriend had lost more money than he could afford.  And then he risked
something that he shouldn't have been willing to lose to simply get back what
he shouldn't have lost in the first place.  I was in no such position.  I could
afford to lose the money, and my potential reward was far greater."

His blue
eyes are burning into me.  "I'm not your reward."

Chase
shakes his head.  "That's not what I mean.  The bet was more a test of the
man than anything.  Like I said, I could tell he was in over his head and I had
no wish to take further advantage of the situation.  The game, those stakes...
I play at that level occasionally for fun, not to fleece the tourists."

"So
what was your potential reward that you were willing to risk all that money
for, then?"

Chase
shrugged.  "Another gamble."  He takes a step forward, closing the
gap between us again.  "I understand that money was a lot to you and your
boyfriend, but it wasn't a lot to me.  So I took a chance with it.  I gambled
that, although you might think I was a jerk for trying to win you, you might
still end up willing to spend some time with me if I did.  That seemed worth
the price to me.  But to answer your earlier question, no.  I don't make it a
habit to bet on girls during poker games.  This was the only time."

Chase seems
like the kind of man who is used to winning, getting what he wants, but the
only reason I'm here is because I had looked around for the easiest and
quickest way to hurt Harrison, and leaving with his opponent seemed like the
best option. 

Actually
fucking him had never been a consideration.  Not that being with a man I'd just
met is entirely foreign to me, it just hadn't been part of my thought process
at the time.  But the way he's looking at me now... his mouth only inches away,
so close that I can feel the hotness of his breath with each word...  I know my
eyes are focusing on his lips as he speaks and I'm thinking more about how they
taste than the words they're forming.

"You
were the most gorgeous thing in that room."  His voice is lower now, but
he's close enough that every word is clear.  "Can you blame me for wanting
to hang out with you, get to know you?  But I want to be clear, I had no
expectations of you coming up here, or anything else.  I'm a gambler, and I
took a chance that my read on your boyfriend was right.  He didn't value you,
and I thought you should see that.  Part of that gamble was that maybe you'd
spend some time with me as well, sure.  But you don't have to.  You're free to
go." 

My back is
to the window as he shifts forward just enough that our bodies touch, so
lightly that it would be almost imperceptible if it wasn't the only thing I'm
focusing on at the moment.  Chase is so much the opposite of Harrison.

"If I
stay, I'm not sleeping with you," I repeat again, like it's a personal
mantra.  This time the words are quiet, almost as if I'm not sure I want him to
hear them, and even I can hear the lack of conviction behind them.

"Who
said anything about sleep?" I watch his lips move one last time to form
that sentence before they come forward. 

Desire. 
That's what his lips taste like.  Delicious desire.

Even as
Chase leads me by the lips, his urgent kisses pushing me backward towards what
I assume is his bedroom, I have a feeling I'm making a mistake.  A deliciously
wonderful mistake, if the skill of his lips are any indication of things to
come, but a mistake nonetheless. 

But I don't
care. 

His hands
reach up and grasp my breasts through my thin blouse and I let out a moan into
his mouth just as we cross through the doorway.  The stubble of his face burns
across my chin with a pleasurable tingle, providing me with an unnecessary
reminder of his masculinity.  There's a much more obvious reminder of that
pressing against my hip, and it's something I'm much more excited about at the
moment.

Chase
groans back at me as my fingers lightly trace along the outline of his cock,
pressing just hard enough against his pants so that he notices my interest.

"Get
on the bed," he growls, his mouth finally disengaging from mine.  My
tongue misses its partner immediately but I do as he says and slide on my knees
against the soft linen.  I honestly had no intention of doing this when I left
with him, but it's like he knew the instant I changed my mind and pounced.  Now
I can't wait to feel his body against mine.

"Take
your clothes off, Lila," he says, his tone dominant yet a flicker of
playfulness behind his eyes is enough to reassure me again that he's not a
lunatic.  It helps that now that I've decided to do this, I want it just as
much as he does.

"Your
clothes," he insists again after I pause just a moment too long.  I start
to pull them off quickly now and watch as his greedy eyes take in every inch of
flesh as it's exposed.

"You're
so fucking hot."  He says it with such conviction that I actually believe
him.  Harrison rarely paid me a compliment that wasn't a preface for a favor.

"After
kissing your lips I have to taste the rest of you."  He pushes me back
against the sheets, my legs spreading before him without a hint of my usual
embarrassment.  I need to feel his lips and tongue on me now.  I can't even think
of anything else.

Chase only
hesitates long enough to shuck his own shirt to the floor before his head dips
between my knees, lowering himself to my hot core.  I feel his tongue first,
running wetly along the sides of my pussy before sliding up against my clit. 
He draws two wet circles around it and then I arch my back as his lips fasten
onto it.  "Yes," I gasp.  "Right there.  Lick my clit." 
There's no reason to hold back at this point.  I want to forget Harrison and
everything to do with him for a little while, and an orgasm seems like the
perfect distraction.

For his
part, Chase knows exactly what he's doing.  His mouth is applying just the
right amount of pressure as his hands ease my thighs apart, giving him deeper
access to my sensitive folds.  He's lapping enthusiastically against my wetness
in a practiced way that has me on the edge of an orgasm faster than I ever
remember getting there. 

As the
pleasure builds, one of his hands leaves my thigh and skims along my skin until
it finds one of my swollen nipples.  His first squeeze is enough to throw me
over the edge.  My own hands slide into his short blond hair, grabbing the
roots and grinding him harder into my lusty center to intensify the electricity
that is already coursing through me.  I let out a shameless scream, the only
outlet the pleasure has to escape my body. 

Chase
doesn't stop until I literally have to push him away. 

I watch
with breathless anticipation as he stands and walks over to his nightstand,
opening it and fishing out a familiar tin foil wrapper.  His back is covered in
tattoos which ripple as the muscles beneath them move.  It's sexy as hell, and
only intensifies the desire I have for him.  All I can think about is how I
just want him to hurry up.  It's been so long.  I need to feel his cock now. 
It's the only way to complete the act we'd started.  The orgasm by his mouth
had been wonderful, but it left me with a burning hunger to be filled.

I watch as
he sheds the rest of his clothes and slips the condom over his thick cock.  I
can feel my tongue slip involuntarily between my lips and wet them as I gaze
down at it.  Just another piece of perfection that makes up the man named Chase
Anderson.  Just another way he differs from Harry.  When I look up at his face,
he's watching me with a little half smile on his face. 

"I'm
going to fuck you now, Lila," he growls.  I can feel the same need in his
voice that I feel inside of myself. 

"Please,"
I beg.  I can't wait anymore.

He closes
the gap between us in an instant, his body leaning forward across the bed until
it drapes over mine and I feel the tip of him press hotly against my entrance. 
His forehead touches mine and his deep blue eyes gaze at me.  As emotionless as
his face was at the poker table, it's filled with expression now.  There's no
doubt Chase feels the same desire that I do. 

I wrap my
hands around his body, finding his firm ass and pulling him forward. 
"Please," I repeat softly.
 Enough waiting.

A groan
escapes me as he finally sinks deeply into my folds.  No more words are needed,
only actions.  Chase thrusts into me, again and again as my fingers rake along
his back with an urgency born from my desire not only to be filled, but to lose
myself in the moment and forget Harrison and the fact that I don't know what
I'm going to do with myself until Monday.

In both
cases, I'm left satisfied as Chase continues to slam his hips into mine,
rocking away any excess thoughts and worries I have left.  By the time I feel
him stiffen and shudder with his release, I've already come again myself and
I'm too exhausted to form any coherent thoughts.