Chance on Love (11 page)

“I spotted a friend.” Chance’s voice was deep and smooth as silk, as always.

“Who?” Carly asked.

“Love,” he said, bending down close to her ear.

Focus on the hate. Focus, focus...
Instead, she focused on her panties and how wet he’d managed to make them simply by uttering her last name. Asshole.

Carly peeked around him to get a look. She frowned. “
Her?
”

Stephanie sipped her drink. “Why, Carlene, you’re looking very,” she looked her up and down, “streetwalker chic tonight.” She gave her a smile.

Carly rolled her eyes. “I don’t have to put up with this. I’m not even on the clock.”

“I agree,” Stephanie said as she raised her hand to give her a wave. “Bye-bye.”

Carly looked at him, giving her best pout. “Chance, please?”

He smiled at her. “I’m sorry, Carly. Love and I have some unfinished business.” He slid his gaze back to Stephanie. “There’s something I need her to do for me.”

Holy shit.
Her nipples hardened immediately. If that something involved more sexual acts, she was all for it. And they could start with her licking every delicious inch of his big, thick—

Carly stomped her foot—actually stomped it as a toddler might do. “Chance,” she whined.

“Some other time, all right?” he asked, keeping his eyes on Stephanie.

Carly huffed. “Fine, but I’m holding you to that. Enjoy your evening.” She threw Stephanie a dirty look. “If that’s even possible now.” She turned on her six-inch heels.

“Turn a trick for me,” Stephanie said, raising her glass to her.

Carly froze. “Bitch,” she mumbled before marching off toward the bar.

Laughing, he shook his head before sitting down across from her. “You really
are
good with people, you know that?”

She smothered a smile and polished off her whiskey. “What kind of unfinished business do we have, Valentine?”

He gulped down a bit of his beer. “What we started in my office, of course.”

Focus on the hate, damn it.
Stephanie gave him a confused look. “Uh...we finished that business, sir.”

Chance smirked. “
You
may have been finished, Love, but I wasn’t.”

Once her bones had re-hardened after melting, she’d made a mad dash from his office to the ladies’ room to clean up. And then she’d spent the remainder of the day doing her best to avoid him—and she’d succeeded until now. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him and yet she couldn’t be close enough. It made no sense, but there it was: Her majorly jacked up life, in a nutshell.

No man made her lose control like this one did. It was unsettling. It made her vulnerable to him and that was something she wouldn’t tolerate. She couldn’t stop her stupid body from responding to him, though, as much as she wanted to.

And even now, with the bastard having had the gall to hunt her down for a fucking blowjob, she wanted him. She had never been this dumb before, especially not over a man, but Valentine was dangerous.

He tilted his head. “Well?”

“You have some nerve,
sir
.” At his frown, she continued. “You show up here demanding a blowjob? Seriously? Well, let me tell you something.” She leaned in, dropping her voice to a furious whisper. “If I suck your dick, it’ll damn well be because
I
want to.”

His eyes dropped to her mouth. “And do you want to?” he asked softly.

The simple question jarred her into losing some of the sass. “Maybe,” she said, looking away from him.

“Great.” Chance sat back. “Now can we talk about the business I actually wanted to speak to you about?”

Her face grew warm.
Son of a bitch did it to me again.
She kept her eyes averted as she picked up her beer. “What’s that?” she asked tightly.

“There are some things I need to get you up to speed on before we leave tomorrow. I would have told you earlier, but you scurried out of the office like a—”

“I do
not
scurry, asshole.”

Chance narrowed his eyes. “So...about this blowjob thing...”

Stephanie groaned before guzzling some of her beer.

Chance gave her a smirk. “Do you spit or swallow?”

Right then, she did neither—Stephanie choked.

Chapter 13

Love was something else. She looked good enough to eat—again—in those tight jeans, and that top that only showed one shoulder and nothing else. Just spotting her across the room, looking at him, had been enough to make his dick come to life.

And she actually thought he’d found her in order to demand a blowjob? This woman was just...yeah, something else. Even now, choking on her beer, she was sexy.

“You okay?” he asked, knowing his earlier question had been the reason for her little coughing spell.

She sputtered a bit before managing to speak. “I’m fine,” she muttered. After a few moments, she moved her head to the loud, eighties song that had started to play.

“You like this?” Interesting. She didn’t strike him as the type of woman who enjoyed music. Hell, she didn’t strike him as enjoying much at all.

She glanced at him. “Problem?”

He shook his head. “I just didn’t peg you as a music lover—and definitely not this decade.”

She widened her eyes. “Are you kidding? The eighties were amazing.”

Chance chuckled. “Yeah, amazing
ly
tacky. Amazingly cheesy.”

“Please, that’s exactly why it was awesome.” She sat back. “Let me guess. You’re some classical music lover who may venture out of his comfort zone every now and then for something wild like jazz or new age?” She scoffed.

“The best music came out of the sixties, Love. End of story.”

She looked at him blankly.

“You
have
heard of the sixties? Hendrix, Joplin, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, The Temptations, Sam Cooke—”

“Who?”

Chance scrunched up his face while he tried to come to terms with the fact that Love was truly clueless. “My God, woman. What the hell have you been listening to? Sam Cooke was great.” He counted off on his fingers as he listed several songs. Expressionless, she continued to stare at him. “This is what happens when all you listen to is A Colony of Seagulls,” he said with a sigh.

She laughed.

His exasperation faded. He’d never heard a genuine laugh from her. It sounded like the best music of all. He realized he was staring, and he cleared his throat. “What?”

She arched an eyebrow. “A Colony of Seagulls? It’s flock, dude. ‘A Flock of Seagulls’.”

“Whatever.” His lips twitched before he suppressed his smile.

She laughed again and shook her head as she picked up her bottle of beer. “And I’ll have you know that ‘I Ran’ is a fucking classic.”

He shook his head. “Nothing from that decade is a classic, Love.”

“Asshole,” she said before taking a drink of beer.

Smiling, Chance stood. “Let me show you a bit of what you’ve been missing while you were busy listening to Madonna’s early albums.”

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see,” he said before making his way to the DJ booth. A minute later, he returned and held out his hand. “Shall we?”

She looked up at him. “Shall we what?” Just then, the music began to play. Love took a deep breath before placing her hand in his.

He led her to the small dance floor and pulled her close.

“Is this the wonderful Mr. Cooke?” she asked, peering up at him with those amazing blue eyes.

Nodding, he smiled. “This is my favorite song of his.” To his surprise, she didn’t make any smart-ass remarks. Actually, she didn’t make any further remarks at all as they slow danced. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she rested her head on his chest as they swayed.

She felt good. No, she felt way past good. She felt as incredible as she’d tasted. Chance almost groaned, but caught himself in time. Having her writhing beneath him in ecstasy had been one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced in his life. He wasn’t much for giving, but the mere thought of going down on her had made him so hard, he’d had to try it. Now that he had, he was hooked.

Her pussy called to him as no other ever had before—the scent, the taste...he couldn’t get enough. Instead of becoming infatuated with fucking her, he had to stay focused. His objective was still there, it was still clear: Make her fall for him and then crush her to dust.

After all, it seemed she was planning something along the same lines.

Her friend’s little performance piece about vibrators, though entertaining as hell, wasn’t even remotely up to snuff. So what had Amber called her about? It had to be something to do with him. Why else would Love have shut the answering machine off so fast?

He sighed, pulling her body closer to his as they continued to dance. If only she weren’t the biggest, most evil curmudgeon he’d ever run across, maybe they could have a good thing going—sexually, of course.

Chance Valentine did not do relationships.

The song came to an end and she dropped her arms from around his neck.

He smiled. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

She cleared her throat and stepped back. “That was...nice.” She shrugged. “It’s still got nothing on A Colony of Seagulls, though.”

Chance leaned down close to her face. “Fuck. You.” He smiled when she gave him a hint of one before wiping it off her face.

She bit her lip and squinted at him. “Have you ever had to deal with a huge pain in the ass, boss?”

“Right now, I’m looking at the biggest one ever.”

She laughed. “Okay, that was smooth, Valentine. I’ll give you that.”

All traces of humor left his mood as the topic of earlier conversation entered his thoughts again. “And what else will you give me?”

She sobered and looked away. “What else do you want?”

Chance shrugged. “Does it matter? Do I always get what I want?”

That blue gaze collided with his again. “Seems that way.”

“Okay, you got me there,” he said lightly.

She sighed. “You’re a big boy, aren’t you?”

“You tell me.”

She ignored his teasing. “Why don’t you come right out and ask for what you want? Or...can’t you admit it?” She smiled sweetly, knowing she was paraphrasing the very words he had spoken to her the night before.

He crossed his arms as he stared down at her. “I’m not shy, Love.” And yet, the thought of actually having to ask for a damn blowjob seemed almost beneath him. He sure as hell had never had to ask before and he didn’t plan to start now.

“You seem a little shy to me.” Shrugging, she held up her hands. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I guess some women might find it cute. Too bad I’m not one of them.” She turned and walked back to the table.

He laughed as he followed her. “I see what this is now.”

“What is it?”

“This is yet again about you not having the guts to ask for what
you
want.”

Love frowned. “What I want?”

“Yeah,” he said, dropping his voice. “You want to suck my dick and you’re just afraid to admit it.”

“Please.”

He nodded. “That’s a start, but you missed a bit in the beginning there. It’s ‘May I suck your dick, please?’” She punched him in the stomach and he laughed again.

“You’re a natural comedian,” she said dryly. Once his laughter died down, she continued. “You asked earlier and I do believe I answered.”

He crossed his arms and she tried not to stare at his biceps. “You said maybe. Maybe’s not an answer.”

“It is where I come from.”

“The pits of hell?”

She smiled. “Shut up. I’m calling it a night since I have to work tomorrow, thanks to some asshole.” She grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair.

Chance looked around. “The asshole may only have you work part of the day and you might not even have to get up all that early.” His gaze came to rest on her face. “I mean, did you ever ask?”

She put her jacket on and narrowed her eyes. “Do I have to get up early?”

Chance smirked. “Maybe.”

She shook her fist in his face. “I’m gonna fuck you up one of these days, Valentine.”

He chuckled. “You do realize I’m technically your boss, right? You should probably tone down the verbal abuse just a hair.” He picked up his jacket. “I could fire you, you know.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

“Are you kidding? You’re the best little assistant a guy could ever want.”

“Kiss my—”

“Yes?” Chance gave her an easy smile.

She licked her lips and his cock stiffened. He could just imagine what she could do with that pretty, little mouth of hers. She was a pro at driving him crazy even when she wasn’t trying to so he couldn’t even wrap his mind around what she would do to him if that were her goal.

Chance had a vision of that sweet tongue of hers running up and down his dick, leaving wetness in its wake, and he damn near groaned. Why wouldn’t she just say that’s what she wanted? “Give me an answer, Love,” he said gruffly, barely recognizing his own voice.

“I did. Now you give me one.” She folded her arms. “What do you want, Valentine?”

My dick in your mouth. Then in your pussy. Maybe even your tight little ass.
Chance stood there, staring back at her. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. He’d never been at a loss for words, especially not when it came to matters of a sexual nature.

Then again, no woman had ever made him speak the words. He was used to being catered to without ever having to ask; this was foreign and unsettling territory for him.

“So you
are
shy. Huh. I never would have pegged you for the meek type, sir.”

He ignored the attempt to goad him into asking. “How are you getting home?”

“Cab.”

“Let me take you.”

“That’s all right.” She turned to go and he gently grabbed her arm to stop her.

“I’ll take you, Love,” he repeated, staring into her eyes.

She pulled her arm from his grasp. “Why do you want to?”

The devil woman was really going to make him do it. Okay, his dislike of her in general was slowly inching its way up to hate. “Why do you think?”

“I don’t know what to think, which is why I’m asking.”